'Bad,' in an a.s.sertive tone, from Polglaze.

'This particular mine, I suppose you mean?' said Gaston, with a yawn, 'very likely it is. However, I'm willing to take the risk. Good day! See you at four,' and with a careless nod, M. Vandeloup lounged out of the office.

He walked along Collins Street, met a few friends, and kept a look-out for Kitty. He, however, did not see her, but there was a surprise in store for him, for turning round into Swanston Street, he came across Archie McIntosh. Yes, there he was, with his grim, severe Scotch face, with the white frill round it, and Gaston smiled as he saw the old man, dressed in rigid broadcloth, casting disproving looks on the pretty girls walking along.

'A set o' hizzies,' growled the amiable Archie to himself, 'prancin'

alang wi' their gew-gaws an' fine claes, like war horses--the daughters o' Zion that walk wi' mincin' steps an' tinklin' ornaments.'

'How do you do?' said Vandeloup, touching the broadcloth shoulder; upon which McIntosh turned.

'Lord save us!' he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, grimly, 'it's yon French body. An' hoo's a' wi' ye, laddie? Eh, but ye're brawly dressed, my young man,' with a disproving look; 'I'm hopin' they duds are paid for.'

'Of course they are,' replied Vandeloup, gaily, 'do you think I stole them?'

'Weel, I'll no gae sa far as that,' remarked Archie, cautiously; 'maybe ye have dwelt by the side o' mony waters, an' flourished. If he ken the Screepture ye'll see G.o.d helps those wha help themselves.'

'That means you do all the work and give G.o.d the credit,' retorted Gaston, with a sneer; 'I know all about that.'

'Ah, ye'll gang tae the pit o' Tophet when ye dee,' said Mr McIntosh, who had heard this remark with horror; 'an' ye'll no be sae ready wi'

your tongue there, I'm thinkin'; but ye are not speerin aboot Mistress Villiers.'

'Why, is she in town?' asked Vandeloup, eagerly.

'Ay, and Seliny wi' her,' answered Archie, fondling his frill; 'she's varra rich noo, as ye've nae doot heard. Ay, ay,' he went on, 'she's gotten a braw hoose doon at St Kilda, and she's going to set up a carriage, ye ken. She tauld me,' pursued Mr McIntosh, sourly, looking at Vandeloup, 'if I saw ye I was to be sure to tell ye to come an' see her.'

'Present my compliments to Madame,' said Vandeloup, quickly, 'and I will wait on her as soon as possible.'

'Losh save us, laddie,' said McIntosh, irritably, 'you're as fu' o' fine wards as a play-actor. Have ye seen onything doon in this pit o' Tophet o' the bairn that rin away?'

'Oh, Miss Marchurst!' said Vandeloup, smoothly, ready with a lie at once. 'No, I'm sorry to say I've never set eyes on her.'

'The mistress is joost daft aboot her,' observed McIntosh, querulously; 'and she's ganging tae look all thro' the toun tae find the puir wee thing.'

'I hope she will!' said M. Vandeloup, who devoutly hoped she wouldn't.

'Will you come and have a gla.s.s of wine, Mr McIntosh?'

Til hae a wee drappy o' whusky if ye've got it gude,' said McIntosh, cautiously, 'but I dinna care for they wines that sour on a body's stomach.'

McIntosh having thus graciously a.s.sented, Vandeloup took him up to the Club, and introduced him all round as the manager of the famous Pactolus. All the young men were wonderfully taken up with Archie and his plain speaking, and had Mr McIntosh desired he could have drunk oceans of his favourite beverage. However, being a Scotchman and cautious, he took very little, and left Vandeloup to go down to Madame Midas at St Kilda, and bearing a message from the Frenchman that he would call there the next day.

Archie having departed, Vandeloup got through the rest of the day as he best could. He met Mr Wopples in the street, who told him how he had found Kitty, quite unaware that the young man before him was the villain who had betrayed the girl. Vandeloup was delighted to think that Kitty had not mentioned his name, and quite approved of Mr Wopples' intention to take the girl on tour. Having thus arranged for Kitty's future, Gaston went along to his broker, and found that the astute Polglaze had got him his shares.

'Going up,' said Polglaze, as he handed the scrip to Vandeloup and got a cheque in exchange.

'Oh, indeed!' said Vandeloup, with a smile. 'I suppose my two friends have begun their little game already,' he thought, as he slipped the scrip into his breast pocket.

'Information?' asked Polglaze, as Vandeloup was going.

'Oh! you'd like to know where I got it,' said M. Vandeloup, amiably.

'Very sorry I can't tell you; but you see, my dear sir, I am not a woman, and can keep a secret.'

Vandeloup walked out, and Polglaze looked after him with a puzzled look, then summed up his opinion in one word, sharp, incisive, and to the point--

'Clever!' said Polglaze, and put the cheque in his safe.

Vandeloup strolled along the street thinking.

'Bebe is out of my way,' he thought, with a smile; 'I have a small fortune in my pocket, and,' he continued, thoughtfully, 'Madame Midas is in Melbourne. I think now,' said M. Vandeloup, with another smile, 'that I have conquered the blind G.o.ddess.'

CHAPTER VII

THE OPULENCE OF MADAME MIDAS

A wealthy man does not know the meaning of the word friendship. He is not competent to judge, for his wealth precludes him giving a proper opinion. Smug-faced philanthropists can preach comfortable doctrines in pleasant rooms with well-spread tables and good clothing; they can talk about human nature being unjustly accused, and of the kindly impulses and good thoughts in everyone's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Pshaw! anyone can preach thus from an alt.i.tude of a few thousands a year, but let these same self-complacent kind-hearted gentlemen descend in the social scale--let them look twice at a penny before spending it--let them face persistent landladies, exorbitant landlords, or the bitter poverty of the streets, and they will not talk so glibly of human nature and its inherent kindness. No; human nature is a sort of fetish which is credited with a great many amiable qualities it never possesses, and though there are exceptions to the general rule, Balzac's aphorism on mankind that 'Nature works by self-interest,' still holds good today.

Madame Midas, however, had experienced poverty and the coldness of friends, so was completely disillusionised as to the disinterested motives of the people who now came flocking around her. She was very wealthy, and determined to stop in Melbourne for a year, and then go home to Europe, so to this end she took a house at St Kilda, which had been formerly occupied by Mark Frettlby, the millionaire, who had been mixed up in the famous hansom cab murder nearly eighteen months before.

His daughter, Mrs Fitzgerald, was in Ireland with her husband, and had given instructions to her agents to let the house furnished as it stood, but such a large rent was demanded, that no one felt inclined to give it till Mrs Villiers appeared on the scene. The house suited her, as she did not want to furnish one of her own, seeing she was only going to stop a year, so she saw Thinton and Tarbet, who had the letting of the place, and took it for a year. The windows were flung open, the furniture brushed and renovated, and the solitary charwoman who had been ruler in the lonely rooms so long, was dismissed, and her place taken by a whole retinue of servants. Madame Midas intended to live in style, so went to work over the setting up of her establishment in such an extravagant manner that Archie remonstrated. She took his interference in a good humoured way, but still arranged things as she intended; and when her house was ready, waited for her friends to call on her, and prepared to amuse herself with the comedy of human life. She had not long to wait, for a perfect deluge of affectionate people rolled down upon her. Many remembered her--oh, quite well--when she was the beautiful Miss Curtis; and then her husband--that dreadful Villiers--they hoped he was dead--squandering her fortune as he had done--they had always been sorry for her, and now she was rich--that lovely Pactolus--indeed, she deserved it all--she would marry, of course--oh, but indeed, she must. And so the comedy went on, and all the actors flirted, and ogled, and nodded, and bowed, till Madame Midas was quite sick of the falseness and frivolity of the whole thing. She knew these people, with their simpering and smiling, would visit her and eat her dinners and drink her wines, and then go away and abuse her thoroughly. But then Madame Midas never expected anything else, so she received them with smiles, saw through all their little ways, and when she had amused herself sufficiently with their antics, she let them go.

Vandeloup called on Madame Midas the day after she arrived, and Mrs Villiers was delighted to see him. Having an object in view, of course Gaston made himself as charming as possible, and a.s.sisted Madame to arrange her house, told her about the people who called on her, and made cynical remarks about them, all of which amused Madame Midas mightily.

She grew weary of the inane gabble and narrow understandings of people, and it was quite a relief for her to turn to Vandeloup, with his keen tongue and clever brains. Gaston was not a charitable talker--few really clever talkers are--but he saw through everyone with the uttermost ease and summed them up in a sharp incisive way, which had at least the merit of being clever. Madame Midas liked to hear him talk, and seeing what humbugs the people who surrounded her were, and how well she knew their motives in courting her for her wealth, it is not to be wondered at that she should have been amused at having all their little weaknesses laid bare and cla.s.sified by such a master of satire as Vandeloup. So they sat and watched the comedy and the unconscious actors playing their parts, and felt that the air was filled with heavy sensuous perfume, and the lights were garish, and that there was wanting entirely that keen cool atmosphere which Mallock calls 'the ozone of respectability'.

Vandeloup had prospered in his little venture in the mining market, for, true to the prediction of Mr Barraclough--who, by the way, was very much astonished at the sudden demand for shares by Polglaze, and vainly pumped that reticent individual to find out what he was up to--the Magpie Reef shares ran up rapidly. A telegram was published from the manager stating a rich reef had been struck. Specimens of the very richest kind were displayed in Melbourne, and the confiding public suddenly woke to the fact that a golden tide was flowing past their doors. They rushed the share market, and in two weeks the Magpie Reef shares ran from four shillings to as many pounds. Vandeloup intended to sell at one pound, but when he saw the rapid rise and heard everyone talking about this Reef, which was to be a second Long Tunnel, he held his shares till they touched four pounds, then, quite satisfied with his profit, he sold out at once and pocketed nearly ten thousand pounds, so that he was provided for the rest of his life. The shares ran up still higher, to four pounds ten shillings, then dropped to three, in consequence of certain rumours that the pocket of gold was worked out.

Then another rich lead was struck, and they ran up again to five pounds, and afterwards sank to two pounds, which gradually became their regular price in the market. That Barraclough and his friend did well was sufficiently proved by the former taking a trip to Europe, while his friend bought a station and set up as a squatter. They, however, never knew how cleverly M. Vandeloup had turned their conversation to his advantage, and that young gentleman, now that he had made a decent sum, determined to touch gold mining no more, and, unlike many people, he kept his word.

Now that he was a man of means, Vandeloup half decided to go to America, as a larger field for a gentleman of his brilliant qualities, but the arrival of Madame Midas in Melbourne made him alter his mind. Her husband was no doubt dead, so Gaston thought that as soon as she had settled down he would begin to pay his court to her, and without doubt would be accepted, for this confident young man never for a moment dreamed of failure. Meanwhile he sent all Kitty's wardrobe after her as she went with the Wopples family, and the poor girl, taking this as a mark of renewed affection, wrote him a very tearful little note, which M. Vandeloup threw into the fire. Then he looked about and ultimately got a very handsome suite of rooms in Clarendon Street, East Melbourne.

He furnished these richly, and having invested his money in good securities, prepared to enjoy himself.

Kitty, meanwhile, had become a great favourite with the Wopples family, and they made a wonderful pet of her. Of course, being in Rome, she did as the Romans did, and went on the stage as Miss Kathleen Wopples, being endowed with the family name for dramatic reasons. The family were now on tour among the small towns of Victoria, and seemed to be well-known, as each member got a reception when he or she appeared on the stage. Mr Theodore Wopples used to send his agent ahead to engage the theatre--or more often a hall--bill the town, and publish sensational little notices in the local papers. Then when the family arrived Mr Wopples, who was really a gentleman and well-educated, called on all the princ.i.p.al people of the town and so impressed them with the high cla.s.s character of the entertainment that he never failed to secure their patronage. He also had a number of artful little schemes which he called 'wheezes', the most successful of these being a lecture on The Religious Teaching of Shakespeare', which he invariably delivered on a Sunday afternoon in the theatre of any town he happened to be in, and not infrequently when requested occupied the pulpit and preached capital sermons. By these means Mr Wopples kept up the reputation of the family, and the upper cla.s.ses of all the towns invariably supported the show, while the lower cla.s.ses came as a matter of course. Mr Wopples, however, was equally as clever in providing a bill of fare as in inducing the public to come to the theatre, and the adaptability of the family was really wonderful.

One night they would play farcical comedy; then Hamlet, reduced to four acts by Mr Wopples, would follow on the second night; the next night burlesque would reign supreme; and when the curtain arose on the fourth night Mr Wopples and the star artistes would be acting melodrama, and throw one another off bridges and do strong starvation business with ragged clothes amid paper snowstorms.

Kitty turned out to be a perfect treasure, as her pretty face and charming voice soon made her a favourite, and when in burlesque she played Princess to f.a.n.n.y Wopples' Prince, there was sure to be a crowded house and lots of applause. Kitty's voice was clear and sweet as a lark's, and her execution something wonderful, so Mr Wopples christened her the Australian Nightingale, and caused her to be so advertised in the papers. Moreover, her dainty appearance, and a certain dash and abandon she had with her, carried the audience irresistibly away, and had f.a.n.n.y Wopples not been a really good girl, she would have been jealous of the success achieved by the new-comer. She, however, taught Kitty to dance breakdowns, and at Warrnambool they had a benefit, when 'Faust, M.D.' was produced, and f.a.n.n.y sang her great success, 'I've just had a row with mamma', and Kitty sang the jewel song from 'Faust' in a manner worthy of Neilson, as the local critic--who had never heard Neilson--said the next day. Altogether, Kitty fully repaid the good action of Mr Wopples by making his tour a wonderful success, and the family returned to Melbourne in high glee with full pockets.

'Next year,' said Mr Wopples, at a supper which they had to celebrate the success of their tour, 'we'll have a theatre in Melbourne, and I'll make it the favourite house of the city, see if I don't.'

It seemed, therefore, as though Kitty had found her vocation, and would develop into an operatic star, but fate intervened, and Miss Marchurst retired from the stage, which she had adorned so much. This was due to Madame Midas, who, driving down Collins Street one day, saw Kitty at the corner walking with f.a.n.n.y Wopples. She immediately stopped her carriage, and alighting therefrom, went straight up to the girl, who, turning and seeing her for the first time, grew deadly pale.

'Kitty, my dear,' said Madame, gravely, 'I have been looking for you vainly for a year--but I have found you at last.'

Kitty's breast was full of conflicting emotions; she thought that Madame knew all about her intimacy with Vandeloup, and that she would speak severely to her. Mrs Villiers' next words, however, rea.s.sured her.

'You left Ballarat to go on the stage, did you not?' she said kindly, looking at the girl; 'why did you not come to me?--you knew I was always your friend.'

'Yes, Madame,' said Kitty, putting out her hand and averting her head, 'I would have come to you, but I thought you would stop me from going.'

'My dear child,' replied Madame, 'I thought you knew me better than that; what theatre are you at?'