Read Online The Glittering Lights (Bantam Series No. 12) by Barbara Cartland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Cartland
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Everyone likes to keep their own secrets. I have three friends waiting for me at a green-baize table who will keep me occupied until it is dinner time.”
To Hannah’s mystification, Cassandra drove not to the shops but to a House-Agent’s just off St. James’s Street.
“What are we stopping here for?” the maid enquired.
“You wait in the carriage,” Cassandra said and disappeared before Hannah could say any more.
An Agent in a smart frock-coat was suitably impressed by Cassandra’s appearance and her expensive fur-trimmed jacket.
“I am looking for a flat or apartment for a friend of mine,” she explained. “She is on the stage.”
“On the stage, Madam?” the Agent exclaimed in astonishment.
Cassandra knew that he thought it almost inconceivable that someone who looked like her should be connected with a woman in such a disreputable profession.
“She is a leading lady,” Cassandra explained sweetly, “and the same type of person as Mrs. Langtry. She therefore wants to live somewhere in the West End so that she will be near the theatre, but it must not be, you understand, in a building with a bad reputation.”
“No, of course not!” the Estate Agent said in shocked tones. “But you’ll appreciate, Madam, it is not every landlord who’ll accept actors and actresses.”
“Presumably because they do not always pay their bills,” Cassandra said with a little smile. “But let me set your mind at rest. My friend has asked me to put down two months’ rent in advance. That should annul any landlord’s fears that financially he might be out of pocket.”
“Yes, yes of course,” the Agent agreed. “It’ll make things very much easier.”
He opened a large Ledger and looked through it with a little frown on his forehead.
Cassandra was quite certain that he was feeling embarrassed because he had so little to offer.
“You will understand,” he said after a moment, “that we do not as a rule keep on our books the type of flat or lodgings which are patronised by your friend’s profession.”
“I understand,” Cassandra said quietly, “but I remember hearing that at one time Mrs. Langtry had a flat in the Albany. Is there nothing available there?”
“I’m afraid not,” the Agent replied, “but there’s a flat in Bury Street. I don’t know whether it would be suitable. The first floor flat was at one time occupied by Miss Kate Vaughan before she married.”
“At least she is respectable now!” Cassandra exclaimed. “Her husband, I understand, is the nephew of the Duke of Wellington.”
“Yes, Madam,” the Agent answered, “and even when she was on the stage, Miss Vaughan would have been acceptable to most landlords.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Cassandra said. “I would not like my friend to feel uncomfortable when she comes to London or believe that she is unwelcome.”
“I’m sure we will find her something which she’ll like,” the Agent said. “What about this flat in Bury Street?”
“You have the particulars?”
He consulted his Ledger.
“It has two bed-rooms, a sitting-room and a small kitchen.”
“That sounds as if it would do,” Cassandra said.
“It also was occupied at one time by someone of importance in the theatrical world,” the Agent revealed. “And so the furnishings should be to your friend’s taste.”
“I should like to see the flat,” Cassandra replied.
She and Hannah drove in the carriage to Bury Street while the Agent hurried after them on foot.
It was only a short distance and Cassandra stared up at the high building. Then having instructed Hannah to say nothing in front of the man, they climbed the staircase to the second floor.
Panting a little because he had been obliged to run in an effort to keep up with the horses, the Agent opened the door and ushered them into the flat.
It was with difficulty that Cassandra prevented herself from laughing.
It was in fact more gaudy and more theatrical than she could possibly
To Hannah’s mystification, Cassandra drove not to the shops but to a House-Agent’s just off St. James’s Street.
“What are we stopping here for?” the maid enquired.
“You wait in the carriage,” Cassandra said and disappeared before Hannah could say any more.
An Agent in a smart frock-coat was suitably impressed by Cassandra’s appearance and her expensive fur-trimmed jacket.
“I am looking for a flat or apartment for a friend of mine,” she explained. “She is on the stage.”
“On the stage, Madam?” the Agent exclaimed in astonishment.
Cassandra knew that he thought it almost inconceivable that someone who looked like her should be connected with a woman in such a disreputable profession.
“She is a leading lady,” Cassandra explained sweetly, “and the same type of person as Mrs. Langtry. She therefore wants to live somewhere in the West End so that she will be near the theatre, but it must not be, you understand, in a building with a bad reputation.”
“No, of course not!” the Estate Agent said in shocked tones. “But you’ll appreciate, Madam, it is not every landlord who’ll accept actors and actresses.”
“Presumably because they do not always pay their bills,” Cassandra said with a little smile. “But let me set your mind at rest. My friend has asked me to put down two months’ rent in advance. That should annul any landlord’s fears that financially he might be out of pocket.”
“Yes, yes of course,” the Agent agreed. “It’ll make things very much easier.”
He opened a large Ledger and looked through it with a little frown on his forehead.
Cassandra was quite certain that he was feeling embarrassed because he had so little to offer.
“You will understand,” he said after a moment, “that we do not as a rule keep on our books the type of flat or lodgings which are patronised by your friend’s profession.”
“I understand,” Cassandra said quietly, “but I remember hearing that at one time Mrs. Langtry had a flat in the Albany. Is there nothing available there?”
“I’m afraid not,” the Agent replied, “but there’s a flat in Bury Street. I don’t know whether it would be suitable. The first floor flat was at one time occupied by Miss Kate Vaughan before she married.”
“At least she is respectable now!” Cassandra exclaimed. “Her husband, I understand, is the nephew of the Duke of Wellington.”
“Yes, Madam,” the Agent answered, “and even when she was on the stage, Miss Vaughan would have been acceptable to most landlords.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Cassandra said. “I would not like my friend to feel uncomfortable when she comes to London or believe that she is unwelcome.”
“I’m sure we will find her something which she’ll like,” the Agent said. “What about this flat in Bury Street?”
“You have the particulars?”
He consulted his Ledger.
“It has two bed-rooms, a sitting-room and a small kitchen.”
“That sounds as if it would do,” Cassandra said.
“It also was occupied at one time by someone of importance in the theatrical world,” the Agent revealed. “And so the furnishings should be to your friend’s taste.”
“I should like to see the flat,” Cassandra replied.
She and Hannah drove in the carriage to Bury Street while the Agent hurried after them on foot.
It was only a short distance and Cassandra stared up at the high building. Then having instructed Hannah to say nothing in front of the man, they climbed the staircase to the second floor.
Panting a little because he had been obliged to run in an effort to keep up with the horses, the Agent opened the door and ushered them into the flat.
It was with difficulty that Cassandra prevented herself from laughing.
It was in fact more gaudy and more theatrical than she could possibly
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