CHAPTER XII. THE MAID OF THE MASQUE
The past life of Mrs. Monte Irvin, in which at this time three distinctgroups of investigators became interested--namely, those of Whitehall,Scotland Yard, and Fleet Street--was of a character to have horrifiedthe prudish, but to have excited the compassion of the wise.
Daughter of a struggling suburban solicitor, Rita Esden, at the age ofseventeen, from a delicate and rather commonplace child began to developinto a singularly pretty girl of an elusive and fascinating type ofbeauty, almost ethereal in her dainty coloring, and possessed of largeand remarkably fine eyes, together with a wealth of copper-red hair, acrown which seemed too heavy for her slender neck to support. Her fatherviewed her increasing charms and ever-growing list of admirers with thegloomy apprehension of a disappointed man who had come to look upon eachgift of the gods as a new sorrow cunningly disguised. Her mother, on thecontrary, fanned the girl's natural vanity and ambition with a successwhich rarely attended the enterprises of this foolish old woman, andRita proving to be endowed with a moderately good voice, a stage careerwas determined upon without reference to the contrary wishes of Mr.Esden.
Following the usual brief "training" which is counted sufficient for anaspirant to musical comedy honors, Rita, by the prefixing of two lettersto her name, set out to conquer the play-going world as Rita Dresden.
Two years of hard work and disappointment served to dispel the girl'sillusions. She learned to appreciate at its true value that masculineadmiration which, in an unusual degree, she had the power toexcite. Those of her admirers who were in a position to assist herprofessionally were only prepared to use their influence upon termswhich she was unprepared to accept. Those whose intentions were strictlycreditable, by some malignancy of fate, possessed no influence whatever.She came to regard herself as a peculiarly unlucky girl, being ignorantof the fact that Fortune, an impish hierophant, imposes identical testsupon every candidate who aspires to the throne of a limelight princess.
Matters stood thus when a new suitor appeared in the person of SirLucien Pyne. When his card was brought up to Rita, her heart leapedbecause of a mingled emotion of triumph and fear which the sight of thebaronet's name had occasioned. He was a director of the syndicate inwhose production she was playing--a man referred to with awe byevery girl in the company as having it in his power to make or mar aprofessional reputation. Not that he took any active part in the affairsof the concern; on the contrary, he was an aristocrat who held himselfaloof from all matters smacking of commerce, but at the same time onewho invested his money shrewdly. Sir Lucien's protegee of today wasLondon's idol of tomorrow, and even before Rita had spoken to him shehad fought and won a spiritual battle between her true self and thatvain, admiration-loving Rita Dresden who favored capitulation.
She knew that Sir Lucien's card represented a signpost at thecross-roads where many a girl, pretty but not exceptionally talented,had hesitated with beating heart. It was no longer a question ofremaining a member of the chorus (and understudy for a small part) orof accepting promotion to "lead" in a new production; it was that ofaccepting whatever Sir Lucien chose to offer--or of retiring from theprofession so far as this powerful syndicate was concerned.
Such was the reputation enjoyed at this time by Sir Lucien Pyne amongthose who had every opportunity of forming an accurate opinion.
Nevertheless, Rita was determined not to succumb without a struggle. Shedid not count herself untalented nor a girl to be lightly valued, andSir Lucien might prove to be less black than rumor had painted him. Aspresently appeared, both in her judgment of herself and in that of SirLucien, she was at least partially correct. He was very courteous, veryrespectful, and highly attentive.
Her less favored companions smiled significantly when the familiarRolls-Royce appeared at the stage door night after night, never doubtingthat Rita Dresden was chosen to "star" in the forthcoming production,but, with rare exceptions, frankly envying her this good fortune.
Rita made no attempt to disillusion them, recognizing that it must fail.She was resigned to being misjudged. If she could achieve success atthat price, success would have been purchased cheaply.
That Sir Lucien was deeply infatuated she was not slow to discover, andwith an address perfected by experience and a determination to avoid theeasy path inherited from a father whose scrupulous honesty had ruinedhis professional prospects, she set to work to win esteem as well asadmiration.
Sir Lucien was first surprised, then piqued, and finally interested bysuch unusual tactics. The second phase was the dangerous one for Rita,and during a certain luncheon at Romanos her fate hung in the balance.Sir Lucien realized that he was in peril of losing his head over thistantalizingly pretty girl who gracefully kept him at a distance, fencingwith an adroitness which was baffling, and Sir Lucien Pyne had set outwith no intention of doing anything so preposterous as falling in love.Keenly intuitive, Rita scented danger and made a bold move. Carelesslyrolling a bread-crumb along the cloth:
"I am giving up the stage when the run finishes," she said.
"Indeed," replied Sir Lucien imperturbably. "Why?"
"I am tired of stage life. I have been invited to go and live with myuncle in New York and have decided to accept. You see"--she bestowedupon him a swift glance of her brilliant eyes--"men in the theatricalworld are not all like you. Real friends, I mean. It isn't very nice,sometimes."
Sir Lucien deliberately lighted a cigarette. If Rita was bluffing, hemused, she had the pluck to make good her bluff. And if she did so? Hedropped the extinguished match upon a plate. Did he care? He glanced atthe girl, who was smiling at an acquaintance on the other side ofthe room. Fortune's wheel spins upon a needle point. By an artisticperformance occupying less than two minutes, but suggesting that Ritapossessed qualities which one day might spell success, she had decidedher fate. Her heart was beating like a hammer in her breast, butshe preserved an attitude of easy indifference. Without for a momentbelieving in the American uncle, Sir Lucien did believe, correctly,that Rita Dresden was about to elude him. He realized, too, that hewas infinitely more interested than he had ever been hitherto, and moreinterested than he had intended to become.
This seemingly trivial conversation was a turning point, and twelvemonths later Rita Dresden was playing the title role in The Maid of theMasque. Sir Lucien had discovered himself to be really in love withher, and he might quite possibly have offered her marriage even if adangerous rival had not appeared to goad him to that desperate leap--forso he regarded it. Monte Irvin, although considerably Rita's senior,had much to commend him in the eyes of the girl--and in the eyes of hermother, who still retained a curious influence over her daughter. Hewas much more wealthy than Pyne, and although the latter was a baronet,Irvin was certain to be knighted ere long, so that Rita would secure theappendage of "Lady" in either case. Also, his reputation promised a morereliable husband than Sir Lucien could be expected to make. Moreover,Rita liked him, whereas she had never sincerely liked and trusted SirLucien. And there was a final reason--of which Mrs. Esden knew nothing.
On the first night that Rita had been entrusted with a part of anyconsequence--and this was shortly after the conversation at Romanos--shehad discovered herself to be in a state of hopeless panic. All herscheming and fencing would have availed her nothing if she were to breakdown at the critical moment. It was an eventuality which Sir Lucien hadforeseen, and he seized the opportunity at once of securing a new holdupon the girl and of rendering her more pliable than he had hithertofound her to be. At this time the idea of marriage had not presenteditself to Sir Lucien.
Some hours before the performance he detected her condition of abjectfright... and from his waistcoat pocket he took a little gold snuff-box.
At first the girl declined to follow advice which instinctively shedistrusted, and Sir Lucien was too clever to urge it upon her. But heglanced casually at his wrist-watch--and poor Rita shuddered. The goldbox was hidden again in the baronet's pocket.
To analyze the process whic
h thereupon took place in Rita's mind wouldbe a barren task, since its result was a foregone conclusion. Daringambition rather than any merely abstract virtue was the keynote ofher character. She had rebuffed the advances of Sir Lucien as she hadrebuffed others, primarily because her aim in life was set higher thanmere success in light comedy. This she counted but a means to a moredesirable end--a wealthy marriage. To the achievement of such analliance the presence of an accepted lover would be an obstacle;and true love Rita Dresden had never known. Yet, short of this finalsacrifice which some women so lightly made, there were few scrupleswhich she was not prepared to discard in furtherance of her designs. Hermorality, then, was diplomatic, for the vice of ambition may sometimesmake for virtue.
Rita's vivacious beauty and perfect self-possession on the fateful nightearned her a permanent place in stageland: Rita Dresden became a "star."She had won a long and hard-fought battle; but in avoiding one mastershe had abandoned herself to another.
The triumph of her debut left her strangely exhausted. She dreadedthe coming of the second night almost as keenly as she had dreaded theordeal of the first. She struggled, poor victim, and only increased herterrors. Not until the clock showed her that in twenty minutes she mustmake her first entrance did she succumb. But Sir Lucien's gold snuff-boxlay upon her dressing-table--and she was trembling. When at last sheheard the sustained note of the oboe in the orchestra giving the pitchto the answering violins, she raised the jewelled lid of the box.
So she entered upon the path which leads down to destruction, andsince to conjure with the drug which pharmacists know as methylbenzoylecgonine is to raise the demon Insomnia, ere long she found herselfexploring strange by-paths in quest of sleep.
By the time that she was entrusted with the leading part in The Maidof the Masque, she herself did not recognize how tenacious was thehold which this fatal habit had secured upon her. In the company of SirLucien Pyne she met other devotees, and for a time came to regard herunnatural mode of existence as something inseparable from the Bohemianlife. To the horrible side of it she was blind.
It was her meeting with Monte Irvin during the run of this successfulplay which first awakened a dawning comprehension; not because sheascribed his admiration to her artificial vivacity, but because sherealized the strength of the link subsisting between herself and SirLucien. She liked and respected Irvin, and as a result began to view herconduct from a new standpoint. His life was so entirely open and freefrom reproach while part of her own was dark and secret. She conceived adesire to be done with that dark and secret life.
This was a shadow-land over which Sir Lucien Pyne presided, and whichmust be kept hidden from Monte Irvin; and it was not until she thuscontemplated cutting herself adrift from it all that she perceivedthe Gordian knot which bound her to the drug coterie. How far, yet howsmoothly, by all but imperceptible stages she had glided down the streamsince that night when the gold box had lain upon her dressing-table!Kazmah's drug store in Bond Street had few secrets for her; or so shebelieved. She knew that the establishment of the strange, immobileEgyptian was a source from which drugs could always be obtained; sheknew that the dream-reading business served some double purpose; but shedid not know the identity of Kazmah.
Two of the most insidious drugs familiar to modern pharmacy were wooingher to slavery, and there was no strong hand to hold her back. Even thepresence of her mother might have offered some slight deterrent at thisstage of Rita's descent, but the girl had quitted her suburban home assoon as her salary had rendered her sufficiently independent to do so,and had established herself in a small but elegant flat situated in theheart of theatreland.
But if she had walked blindly into the clutches of cocaine and veronal,her subsequent experiments with chandu were prompted by indefensiblecuriosity, and a false vanity which urged her to do everything thatwas "done" by the ultra-smart and vicious set of which she had become amember.
Her first introduction to opium-smoking was made under the auspices ofan American comedian then appearing in London, an old devotee of thepoppy, and it took place shortly after Sir Lucien Pyne had proposedmarriage to Rita. This proposal she had not rejected outright; she hadpleaded time for consideration. Monte Irvin was away, and Rita secretlyhoped that on his return he would declare himself. Meanwhile sheindulged in every new craze which became fashionable among herassociates. A chandu party took place at the American's flat in DukeStreet, and Rita, who had been invited, and who had consented to go withSir Lucien Pyne, met there for the first time the woman variously knownas "Lola" and "Mrs. Sin."