Daughters of Thespis. A story of the green-room

Front matter

NOVELS BY JOHN BICKERDYKE. LADY VAL'S ELOPEMENT. Second Edition. i Vol., 6s. London: Hutchinson & Co. ; Copyright U.S.A., J. B. Lippincott Company. "A Novel of outstanding merit . . . the reader is struck by the human Pathos of the story , by thc finisited and charming sketclies of the pretty and romantic sfiots in -which the scenes are set {Thames Vallev, Black Forest, Norway, etc.), and by the strength in •which is depie'ed character and human nature in alt ihe personages" — Scotsman. " A joyous stream of goo i spirits, plenty of ftn, any amount of love, a comedy of errors and a tragedy alongside •it."— Bradford Observer. "One of t/te brightest, most dramatic, and most interesting noi'els that has come under our notice." — Reading Mercury. " The follies of mankind come under trenchant review, and the author does not spare his powerful satire."— ~W esters Morning News.

" Exceptionally readable •" — North British Daily Mail. " Extremely entertaining."-- -Daily Telegraph. A BANISHED BEAUTY: A Story of Love and Sport in the Highlands, i Vol. , 6s. Blackwood & Sons. "No lack of vivacious incident . . . the author is manifestly a lover of field sports, the beauties of nature and •wholesome sentiment." — Daily Tele graph. " Vivid descriptions of scenery and sport . . . clezvr and amusing character sketches." — Morning Post & Story of t\)t (Green-room BY JOHN BICKERDYKE AUTHOR OF "LADY VAL'S ELOPEMENT," "A BANISHED BEAUTY, "WILD SrORTS IN IRELAND," ETC, ETC. LONDON SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & CO., Ltd. V To my BROTHER JOURNALISTS, REVIEWERS, and to the YOUNG PERSON. PLACE aux demoiselles I will take the Y.P. first, and call her PHYLLIS, because it is a pretty name never borne by ajiyone in Fiction over the age of Sweet Seventeen.

This book is too Strong Meat for yoa, PHYLLIS, and I would have you leave it unopened. You have beautiful Ideals culled from the Stories expressly written (by experienced matrons) for girls. Cherish them — the Ideals, I mean — keep them as long as you can, PHYLLIS. Believe that VIRTUE is always TRIUM PHANT, and that VICE— for you I should say NAUGHTI NESS — is always punished as it deserves. Perhaps for you I will some day write a story showing liow LA COCO TO, after attaining the height of her, or her scheming mother's, ambition, did not after all live so happily as if she had married the Honest Young Artis't who worshipped her in the days when she, like you, was an INNOCENT YOUNG PERSON. But, my dear PHYLLIS, if you have a Scheming Mother—which God for bid! — who would sacrifice your Loving Young Heart for an ESTABLISHMENT, legitimate or otherwise, a phrase I trust yoic do not understand, present her with a copy of this Volume.

Preface

. VI with which you once delighted your readers. But tins has not saved you from your Detractors — doubtless incompetent Authors whom you have properly and usefully chastised — who now basely allege that your Wives, Daughters, and even Lady Friends (if you are Bachelors) read the Books (to the great detriment of Messrs. Mudie, Messrs. Smith &> Son, and all and sundry Book Merchants), and TELL YOU THE PLOTS.' Here, then, is the lamentable fact, that however minutely and with painstaking care you describe the Intricacies of the Romances you handle in such Masterful P'ashion, THE TONGUE OF CALUMNY insists that you do not read the Books you so ably used to rezdew. It is, alas! also a fact that those who know " what ihe end is going to be " — to use their own vulgar phrase — are apt to take little further interest in a Work of Fiction unless it is far more brilliant than I can ever hope io produce.

Feeling, therefore, that you could revive your Good Old System of Reviewing, without loss to yourselves, and with absolute gain to Authors and their and your Readers, I come unfalteringly to my MODEST REQUEST. I ask you to Praise or Blame unsparingly, as seemeth good and fust io you, only telling so much (and no more) of the Story as will suffice to elucidate your Criticisms, and incline your Readers to a more intimate knowledge of the Book. One word more : — If you would blame me for my Realism, may I urge in slight extenuation tliat it may serve a useful end to holdup the LOOKING-GLASS OF TRUTH in which the DAUGHTERS OF THESPIS and, may I add, SONS OF BELIAL, may see HUMAN NATURE as it still is, not withstanding our boasted NINETEENTH CENTURY CIVILISATION. At least I have avoided the Modern Custom of teaching that certain forms of IMMORALITY are excusable — nay, even commendable and beautiful.

Herein the PRETTY SINNER may be or seem triumphant, but she is not disguised in the White ROBES OF VIRTUE. f. B. March, /Sipy. CONTENTS. Chap. Pa;,e I. THE LIFE-CLASS .... , II. A LITTLE FLIRTATION - - - 9 III. MADAME COCOTO AT HOME - - - 14 IV. WHICH INTRODUCES THE MANAGER OF THE PICCADILLY 22 V. BEHIND THE SCENES AT THE PICCADILLY - 27 VI. THE ACTRESS AT HOME ... 37 VII. "IN PLAIN ENGLISH SHE IS A FLIRT" - 46 VIII. THE FIRST NIGHT .... 56 IX. DIAMONDS ----- 63 X. ACACIA VILLA, NORTH BANK- - - 73 XI. A GLIMMER OF SHAME - - - 87 XII. GONE ------ 97 XIII. "SOUP" AND SOAPSUDS - - - 108 XIV. THE FLEETWING - - - 120 XV. "WHAT BRIGHT EYES SHE HAD!" - - 128 XVI. THE LAST VOYAGE - - - 1 42 XVII. "LA COCOTO" - - - 157 XVIII. BEAUTY AS A FINE ART - - - 1 70 XIX. "THERE WILL HAVE TO BE AN INQUEST" 178 XX.

FORGIVEN - - - - - 1 86 XXI. "COULDN'T WE GO DOWN TO BRIGHTON TOGETHER?" - - - 196 XXII. BEWITCHED ----- 205 XXIIL A LETTER FROM AMERICA - - - 21.; XXIV. MADAME COCOTO TAKES THE HELM - 224 XXV. "NO FOOL LIKE THE OLD FOOL" - - 233 XXVI. MADAME COCOTO AS THE DISTRESSF.D UOTIU'R 243 XXVII. A LITTLE MUSIC AND DANCING - - 25 1 XXVIII. PLAYING FOR HIGH STAKES - 259 XXIX. CLEOPATRA AT LONGLANDS - - - 269 XXX. IN DARKEST LONDON - - - 284 XXXI. AT THE CHAPEL ROYAL - - - 292 XXXU. OS JBA__X SIDE - - -

Chapter I. The Life-class

In a long, low room in Queen's Square, Bloomsbury, lit byThalf-a-dozen Argand burners, fourteen men, none of whom, with a solitary exception, could have been over thirty, were occupied one November even ing in making studies from the nude. The model was a tall, lithe, round-eyed, white-skinned girl of about fifteen, well developed for her age, who sat uncon cernedly in a swing which depended from a beam crossing the room above the throne. Her long, tapered lingers were clasped round the swing ropes, and her head rested on her left wrist, the pure white of which showed out strongly against a mass of waving brown hair which fell behind it. The position was familiar, and her gaze wandered from one face to the other of the young artists who were drawing her shapely figure. As she looked through the wreaths of smoke which rose from some fourteen pipes, she amused herself by A considering, if she had to select a husband from those present, on which of them her choice would fall.

Her eyes perhaps rested longest on a youthful student, at the most a year or two older than herself : a fair, blue-eyed, sunny-faced boy, who for the thirtieth time had vainly striven to draw the delicate curves of the girl's oval face. Her eyes met his, and she flushed slightly — a rare thing for one to whom the occupation was as second nature. Annoyed with herself for such unprofessional weakness — for she came of a family of models — she avoided looking at the young artist for some minutes, and began to wonder curiously con cerning a new face which she had not hitherto noticed. Its owner was a man, compared with the other artists, of strange appearance. He was drawing at an easel near the delicately-carved Queen Anne fireplace. He had evidently been in full evening dress some time earlier in the evening, but had changed the swallow tail coat for a dark-blue double-breasted jacket, and though round his neck he wore a black silk scarf, which might have been intended to hide his white tie and shining shirt front, the heat of the room had caused him to throw this open, disclosing the character of the dress beneath.

" He's more like a Johnnie than an artist," said the young model to herself, using, even in her thoughts, a slang term of the period. It was in the decade when quick-witted, merry, gamin-voiced Nellie Farren was delighting her " boys " at the Gaiety ; when elegant Kate Vaughan, who had recently discovered the Poetry of Motion, was leading THE LIFE-CLASS. the public taste in the direction of the graceful skirt dance ; when night after night rows of stolid-looking white-breasted youths, with crutch-sticks and tooth picks, worshipped by the light of the Sacred Lamp of Burlesque, which was for ever kept burning for them by " Honest John " ; when two great parliamentary armies ranged themselves and fought battles under the standards of generals Beaconsfield and Gladstone. To those of us who are very young, it is the anti natal time of long ago, of misty tradition.

To those of us who are middle-aged, it is the time of a few years agone, of our Golden Youth. To those of us who are old, it seems but yesterday. Julius Wolff, the man in the blue jacket, watched the glistening white model closely, but drew little, and that little badly. He was a heavy-cheeked, swarthy man, with somewhat sunken eyes, and face deeply lined. The heavy moustache produced in a horizontal line to extreme points, and an Imperial on his chin gave him a slightly foreign appearance, which was increased by his closely-cut, black hair. " It is half -past nine," said a voice. The artists laid down their pencils, crayons, or charcoal, as the case might be, refilled their pipes, and helped themselves to whisky, several bottles of which were arranged on a Chippendale table at the side of the room.

The girl leaped down from the swing, threw her cloak around her, and seated herself on the steps of the dais. The sunny-faced youngster who had met her gaze arose and came to Wolff, who was looking round with an expression of curiosity. " We have an interval now, to rest the model," he said. " Well, are you satisfied ? " " Parfaitement, mon cher. She is even prettier than you led me to suppose." " Ah, but you laughed at the idea of propriety in connection with our life-class, or I should not have brought you here to see what it was like," said the young man, a shade of annoyance passing over his face. " Yes, I remember," said the other, absent-mindedly. " It was the propriety I questioned, not the prettiness of the model. Everything is certainly tres comme il faut. But you must introduce me to our little charmer."

Hugh Halbrough, to give the young man his proper appellation, glanced towards the throne. The girl was now standing with a glass of whisky-and-water in her hand, chatting vivaciously to three young art students. " She is talking with someone," said he, evidently glad of the excuse. " I daresay she doesn't stand much on formality," said Wolff. " I will introduce myself." And he strolled slowly across the room towards the group, Hugh following him reluctantly. " By the way, what is her name ? " " Cocoto." Wolff stopped. " Cocoto. Why — yes, I knew a model of that name who used to sit for old Beaude garde Potts, the academician. It would be strano-e if she proved to be a child of his. He was called — let me see — Guiseppe, I think." THE LIFE-CLASS. " That was her father's name," said Hugh. " He has been dead some years now."

" I am not surprised," laughed Wolff " The old raven was enough to kill any man. Come, sit down, and I will tell you the story. We will not trouble the girl, who seems happy with her friends." " The old raven ? " queried Hugh. "Your pretty model's mother, I expect." " Why, she is my landlady ! " exclaimed thc young man, immediately after having spoken, feeling ir ritated with himself for giving his friend, whose character among women he was acquainted with, such an excellent clue to Miss Cocoto's address. " Capital ! capital ! " laughed Wolff, highly amused. " What a small world this is, to be sure. And to think that you should be under the wing of old Pott's — well, I will tell you the story while the others draw. Leave j-our easel and sit down by the fire ; you have done enough work for this evening."

The girl had removed the cloak from her white body, and had been carefully posed in the swing by Leslie Moody, a tall, gloomy-looking, hollow-eyed, silent man, who had formed his friends into a little club, to bear between them the cost of the model. Hugh and Wolff seated themselves by the fire, the former with his back to the throne, while the other, facing the model, watched her out of his half-shut eyes as he told the story — commonplace enough, but sufficiently interesting to the young man. "Beaudegarde Potts," said Wolff, in a confidential tone, " was not always an academician, that goes without saying ; and when I first knew him he was plain Potts, living in a couple of rooms in Soho, which were extremely airy, on account of their altitude. That girl's mother was a model in those days, as were most of her relations, and Potts conceived a sort of affection for her, which lasted until there seemed some prospect of his being elected an Associate.

Then the worthy fellow decided that Bohemianism must give way to smug respectability. Madame Potts, as she was called in Soho, would have to go, that was clear, and at this part of the story old Guiseppe Cocoto comes in. He used to sit for Potts, and was a hairy, mild-mannered Italian, with hardly courage enough to even put an edge on a razor ; but he posed admirably for brigands, robber chieftains, or a Roman assassin, as the case might be. I daresay you know that before Potts took to portrait painting he was great on subjects of that kind ? " "A brigand picture of his was bought by the Chantry Bequest ; I saw it at the National Gallery the other day," said Hugh. " Exactly ! and I daresay old Guiseppe's hairy visage looks out of the canvas as the leader of the band. Well, Guiseppe was getting old, and Potts said to him one day, ' My friend, you will not be able to sit much longer ; you should settle down in life.

You should take a little business.' ' But I have no mone}', signor,' said Guiseppe. ' And if you had, what busi ness would you like ? ' asked Potts. The Italian, as I have said, being a mild-mannered man, suggested a milk-shop." THE LIFE-CLASS. " Why, her mother keeps a milk-shop now," said Hugh. "And a pump in the back-yard also, I have no doubt ; the business instinct was strongly ingrained in her capacious bosom," continued Wolff. " Well, as I was saying, Guiseppe wanted a milk-shop, but he had no money. Potts offered to, and did help, him ; but there must have been some secret condition, for when old Cocoto began to go round with the cans, the ex-Madame Potts was to be seen in the shop, selling French eg<_*s from a basket on the counter, and retailing ha'porths of milk. And you are lodging with them, and this is their daughter !

Incroyable ! " And Wolff's eyes glistened as he regarded the shapely form of the model once more over his com panion's shoulder. " Potts confided in me," he continued, " that there was a terrible scene with madame before the matter was arranged ; but she was then a woman getting on for middle age, and her common sense was remark able. I should like to see her again. If you are going straight home, I will come with you after the seance, or whatever you call it, is over." An older man would have snubbed Mr. Julius Wolfl", but Hugh, reluctant as he was to bring his acquaintance into contact with the Cocoto family, could think of no remark which would politely convey his feelings on the subject, so was silent. The girl in the swing had been watching the couple at the fire, and had noticed how closely Wolff eyed her from time to time.

After a while, she began to feel fascinated by the gaze of his dark eyes, and felt herself coming under their influence. Was it a presentiment of evil which caused her to shrink away from him and shiver as she sat there ? Halt a-dozen pairs of eyes were regarding her at the moment. " Why don't you keep the fire going, Halbrough ? " " Pile up some more coal," shouted another. " Patta's cold," called out a third. "That's the worst of drawing from the nude," explained Hugh ; " the room has to be kept so very hot for the sake of the models." " So she is called Patta," remarked Wolff, half to himself, as if making a mental note of the name. " Short for Cleopatra, I fancy," said Hugh. "I think I can understand why the name was given," said Wolff. " Her mother once sat to Potts for that extremely virtuous Egyptian queen.

Old Vanderstegen, the American millionaire, bought the picture. I wonder if the woman thought this girl was going to turn out a second Cleopatra. Well, we shall see ! If there is anything in blood, she may be an emperor's mistress yet."

Chapter II

A LITTLE FLIRTATION. It is my turn to see you home, Patta." The sitting was over, and a solitary Argand lamp illuminated the studio, which was deserted, save by Hugh, Wolff, and the youug student who had spoken. Patta smiled brilliantly at the speaker. He was a little, dark, comical-faced man,- of uncertain age, who lodged with Hugh at Madame Cocoto's, and shared his companion's adoration of the budding Cleo patra. Hugh's taste led him in the direction of seascape painting, while his friend, Arnold Cutts, who had no independent means, was forced to devote nearly all his time to drawing on wood for the illustrated papers, and doing miserably-paid hack-work for the publishers of third-rate children's books. Probably neither of the young men would have joined Moody 's life-club had not Patta been the model ; but when Madame Cocoto announced that her daughter had been engaged to sit for Moody and his friends three times a week, Hugh and Arnold suddenly discovered that before they could distinguish themselves in Art, close study of the Human Form Divine was absolutely necessary.

Through their landlady they obtained an introduction to Moody, and a right to an easel and a seat in the Queen's Square studio. Madame Cocoto was not sorry that someone should be present to escort her daughter, at the close of the sitting, through the not very select groves of Bloom sbury. Patta, however, had decided that one cavalier at. a time was sufficient, and ordered that Hugh and Arnold should take it in turns to see her home. She had just come from the little room at the back of the studio, where the models dressed or unrobed them selves, as the case might be, and Wolff was startled to ' O ' see how womanly she looked in her dark, tight fitting dress, and short, smart jacket, with astrakhan collar and cufi's. Her large, dark eyes blazed at him through a tiny gossamer veil, which barely passed the tip of her dainty nose; while above the short, crisp curls which crossed her low white forehead, was a little, cloth-peaked cap, held in place by a diamond headed pin.

Wolff, who felt strongly attracted by her, hoped that the little quartette would have journeyed towards the milk-shop together ; but Patta ran down the wide oak staircase, rapidly followed by Arnold, and was in the street almost before he and Hugh had left the studio. He was careful, however, to show no annoyance, and, turning to the young artist, said : " And now, my boy, take me to see my old friend Madame Cocoto. Does she ever talk to you of old times ? " Hugh hesitated a moment before replying " No, he said, " I think not." A LITTLE FLIRTATION. " That I can well imagine," said the other drily. " I shall seem to her almost like one risen from the dead." They were at the foot of the staircase by this time, and turning out into the foggy night, walked arm in arm out of the square in a southern direction, down Gloucester Street and Kingsgate Street, then stopping just short of Holborn, turned abruptly to the left into Eagle Street.

Patta and her companion were ahead of them, but were returning home by a more circuitous route, both glad of the walk after the heat of the gassy studio. Arnold was proposing for the twenty-fifth time. " You are a dear boy," said Patta, " and I am sure I love you very much, but I should like to know what we are to live on if we were to marry. For the matter of that, I am never going to marry at all ; I have quite made up my mind to be an old maid." " But I made my fortune to-day." " You ? " " Yes ; I kept the secret until to-night to tell you first of all." She drew a little closer to him, and put her arm in his. "What, has the old uncle died at last?" she said. " No ; better than that. Punch has accepted that funny drawing I showed you the other day." " Is that all ? " " It's a very great deal.

And you know I am drawing regularly for the Illustrated London News, and I have had five whole-page drawings in the Graphic this year. If that's not enough to marry on, I should like to know what is." " I daresay you are right," she said, without show ing much interest in the subject, "but there is plenty of time yet." "I should not mind waiting," said he, "if you didn't flirt so much with Hugh and some of those other fellows at the life-class." " Why, what a Johnnie you are ! I don't care for any of them but you. Didn't I promise you not to, when you gave me that little gold bangle the other day ? " " Yes, I know you did," he replied rather dubiously : " but you seem to like Hugh to see you home occasionally." " Oh ! that is only for appearance sake," she said. " Perhaps mother might come herself if she found I always walked home with you."

" Heaven forbid !" he ejaculated piously. They were now in Red Lion Square, which, being mainly given over to business premises, was almost deserted. They were some distance from a gas-lamp, and he took advantage of the situation to place his arm round her waist and kiss her. She accepted his caress passives. " That is another chocolate cream you owe me ; that makes ten." " I will take two more, and make it a dozen," said he. A week before this, she had playfully told him she would charge him one chocolate cream each time his A LITTLE FLIRTATION. lips touched hers, to prevent him kissing her too much, and he had joyfully agreed to the bargain. " Then, you really do not care anything about Hugh ? " he said ; " and do not love anyone else ? and will marry me some day ? " If her face had been visible, he would have seen that she was beginning to look somewhat bored at his repeated interrogations.

" I don't love Hugh ; I don't love anybody ; and if ever I marry at all, I will marry you," she said shortly. " Now, are you satisfied ? " He drew her to him again at this, and dissipated another chocolate cream. A few minutes, more and they reached Eagle Street, and passing through the unlit milk-shop at 5Ga, found themselves in a little back parlour with Madame Cocoto, Wolff, and Hugh. " Where have you been, you naughty girl ? " ex claimed Madame Cocoto, as they entered. " We had to go out of our way, mamma, to a shop, but found it shut," replied Patta unblushingly. And Arnold Cutts felt a little shiver go down his back at the ready falsehood of his divinity.

Chapter III. Madame Cocoto At Home

It had been a curious meeting this between the retired model and Julius Wolff. Both thought they had passed out of each other's lives completely, and a flood of recollections came rushing up, none too pleasant for the woman, who hoped she had left be hind her for ever a somewhat disreputable past. But the man's dark eyes glistened, as her familiar voice brought to his mind pleasant memories of wild life in Bohemian London, when the heart was young, and the fierce, hot blood coursed bravely through his veins. " She has aged, ca va sans dire, but the eyes and voice are the same," he said to himself. " Ah, me ! what a tale I could tell these youngsters, if I chose ! " And he laughed. She eyed him curiously. Why had he sought her out, she wondered. He had never cared for her after she left him to become housekeeper to the em bryonic academician.

" This is my youngest daughter, Cleopatra," she said, pointing to Patta. " I have seen her already ; we met at the studio." She looked at him inquiringly. " It may be the girl, not her mother, who has brought him here," was her conclusion. " I am pleased you have found your way to our humble abode, Mr. Wolff," she said aloud. " It is indeed a pleasure to see you again. You have been out of England, have you not ? " " Yes, in Paris for several years ; but I have come into my fortune at last, and shall settle down in England now." Madame Cocoto's face lit up. " Ah, yes, I remember it was to have been a large one. Has it come up to your expectations ? " " Quite," he answered. " You must stay and have some supper with us. Martha is singing at a hall on the other side of the water, and we always wait for her, though she don't deserve it ; so we shall not sit down until about half past eleven.

Won't you go up into the studio with Mr. Halbrough while the maid is laying the cloth ? " Hugh's studio was a long, narrow attic, which, by an ingenious arrangement of curtains, served also as a bedroom. It had a large north light, and the walls, after the manner of the time, were decorated with Japanese fans and Eastern rugs. There were four low basket chairs covered with Oriental stuffs, a few plaster casts from the antique, and the ordinary paraphernalia of an artist's workshop. Leaning against the wall were a number of landscape studies, and on the easel a clever Cornish seascape. Hugh began to show Wolff a few of his pictures, and presently Patta and Madame Cocoto joined them. Cutts had retired to his room to finish a pressing piece of black-and-white work. The old model was a tall, well-proportioned woman, with a slightly hooked nose and piercing eagle eyes.

Her hair was parted in the middle, and smoothed down decorously over her forehead. A large gold locket rose and fell on a wide lace collarette which half covered her expansive bosom. In days gone by she had been noted for her queenly walk and small feet. In honour of her old friend's visit, she had put on a somewhat short silk dress of many flounces, be neath which showed, whenever their owner recol lected their existence — which was not infrequently — a pair of portly but shapely ankles, covered in pink silk stockings, and feet encased in heavily-beaded, high-heeled, court shoes. " Perhaps Mr. Halbrough will play you a game of Be'zigue, Patta," she said, and the young couple seated themselves at a small table in a corner of the studio. Julius Wolff placed one of the basket chairs for Madame Cocoto by the side of the fire, and threw him self back in another, so that he could watch Patta over her mother's shoulder.

" So you are rich at last," said the woman. " Yes," he replied, " beyond the dreams of avarice. She looked at the fire thoughtfully. " What do you think of Patta ? " she asked. " She is, or will be, a great beauty," he replied. " Is Martha like her ? I think you said you had a daughter of that name." Madame Cocoto 'a face fell. " I have no patience with her," she said ; " she had a great career before her, but has ruined it all." " How was that . " " Well, I don't mind telling you — such an old friend. She is a fine, handsome girl, and having a good voice, and dancing well, I thought she would do better at a music hall than as a model. I used to go with her there of an evening as her dresser, and to look after her. I assure you she had admirers without end. Overtures were made to me by young Lord Jellicoe ; a baronet who had just come into his title ; and Cap tain Menzies, of the Guards — all wealthy men ; but she must needs fall in love with one of the second violins at the hall, and because I would not let her marry him, ran away, and they lived together for a fortnight."