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diff --git a/30286-h/30286-h.htm b/30286-h/30286-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c01a161 --- /dev/null +++ b/30286-h/30286-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11619 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Phantom Lover, by Ruby M. Ayres.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 100%;} + h1 {font-size:1.6em;} + h1,h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h2 {font-size:1.4em;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center;} + + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + hr.tb {border: none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 33%; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + p.center {text-align: center !important;} + p.ralign {text-align: right !important;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30286 ***</div> + +<table style='margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; border: black 2px solid;' summary=""> + <tr><td> + <table style='width:22em; margin: 3px 3px; border: black 1px solid;' summary=""> + +<tr><td> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.8em;margin-top:20px;'>THE</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.0em;margin-bottom:40px;'>PHANTOM LOVER</p> +<p class='tp' >BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;margin-bottom:40px;'>RUBY M. AYRES</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>AUTHOR OF</p> +<p class='tp' >A BACHELOR HUSBAND,<br />THE SCAR, ETC.</p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'> +<div style='margin:60px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/f0001-img.png' /> +</div> +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> +<p class='tp' >NEW YORK</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;letter-spacing:0.2em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:20px;'>PUBLISHERS</p> +</td></tr> + + </table> + </td></tr> +</table> + +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-top:5px;'>Made in the United States of America</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'><span class='smcap'>Copyright, 1921, by</span></p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:40px;'>W. J. WATT & COMPANY</p> +<p class='tp' ><i>Printed in the United States of America</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:10px;'>DEDICATED<br />TO MY FRIEND</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;font-style:italic;'>Janet Moore</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-top:10px;'>THE REAL ‘JUNE MASON’<br />IN THIS STORY</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<h1>THE PHANTOM LOVER</h1> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I' id='CHAPTER_I'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +</div> +<p>Somewhere out in the night a woman was crying, +crying desolately. The sad, rather monotonous +sound broke the silence of the street and floated +through the open window of a room where Micky Mellowes +was wondering how the deuce he should get +through the long evening lying before him.</p> +<p>Micky was in a bad temper. It was not often that he +was in a bad temper, but he had begun the day by waking +with a headache, which was still with him, and which +accounted for the wide open window and the breath of +icy air which was filling the room and fluttering the +curtains; and half an hour ago some people with whom +he had been going to dine had rung up and told him that +the party was off owing to the sudden death of a relative, +thereby leaving the evening long and empty on his +hands.</p> +<p>It was New Year’s Eve, too, which made matters a +thundering sight worse.</p> +<p>He wondered if Marie Deland was feeling as sick +about it as he was. Micky was in the middle of an interesting +flirtation with Marie, which bade fair to develop +into something deeper with careful engineering on +the part of her family, for Micky was a catch, and +though so far he had proved himself singularly adroit +in avoiding mothers with marriageable daughters, the +Delands were beginning to pat each other on the back +and to look pleased.</p> +<p>When the sound of crying reached him he had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span> +feeling so thoroughly fed-up with life that it had seemed +impossible for anything ever to interest him again; but +now he climbed out of his chair with a faint show of +energy and strolled over to the window.</p> +<p>It was a cold, clear night, with myriads of stars in +the dark sky that seemed to shed a faintly luminous +light to earth, bright enough at all events for Micky +to distinguish the figure of a girl walking slowly along +the pathway below.</p> +<p>She was walking so slowly and dispiritedly that a sort +of vague curiosity stirred in Micky’s heart; here, at least, +was some one even more fed-up with life than he himself, +and with a sudden impulse he turned from the window, +and, snatching up a hat and coat which he had +thrown down when he came in an hour earlier, made +for the stairs.</p> +<p>He was half-way down when an apologetic cough at +his elbow arrested him; he stopped and turned.</p> +<p>“Well, what is it?”</p> +<p>“If you please, sir, Mr. Ashton has just sent round +to ask if you could make it convenient to be in at ten +o’clock this evening, as he wants to see you particularly.”</p> +<p>Micky looked surprised; Ashton had been very particularly +engaged for that evening, he knew. Evidently +something had happened to upset his plans as well.</p> +<p>“Ten o’clock? All right; I dare say I shall be in.”</p> +<p>He went on down the stairs.</p> +<p>Out on the path he paused and looked up and down +the street.</p> +<p>The impulse that had sent him out had died away; +it was beastly cold, and much more comfortable by the +fire. He hesitated, and in that moment he saw the figure +of the girl again.</p> +<p>She had stopped now in the light of a street lamp, +and seemed to be looking at something she carried in +her arms––a child! Surely not a child!</p> +<p>Micky’s curiosity was aroused. He buttoned the collar +of his coat more closely round his chin and went on.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span></div> +<p>The girl had moved too, almost as if she felt instinctively +that she was being followed, and as Micky drew +abreast with her she shrank a little to one side as if +afraid.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” asked Micky bluntly.</p> +<p>They were some few yards from the lamp now. But, +as she turned to look up at him with startled eyes, its +yellow light fell on her face; and Micky saw with amazement +that she was quite young and exceedingly pretty, +in spite of the distress in her eyes, and the tears that +were still wet on her cheeks.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” he asked again, more gently, and +waited for the pathetically shaken denial which he felt +sure would come.</p> +<p>“Nothing––nothing at all.”</p> +<p>“Nothing!” There was a note of exasperation in his +voice. “You were crying––I heard you, and people don’t +walk about the streets at this time of night and cry if +there’s nothing the matter. If that’s a baby you’ve got +with you, you ought to know better than to–––” He +broke off. She was laughing, a weak, uncertain little +laugh.</p> +<p>“A baby!” she said tremulously. “It isn’t a baby; it’s +a cat.”</p> +<p>“A cat!” Micky’s voice was full of disgust. He looked +down at her from his superior height with sudden suspicion. +If this was just a hoax?</p> +<p>“Well, what’s the matter anyway?” he asked again.</p> +<p>She looked away from him without answering.</p> +<p>Micky began to feel a bit of a fool; he wished he had +not yielded to the impulse to follow her. After all, it +was no business of his if a stranger chose to walk about +his road and weep; he looked at her impatiently.</p> +<p>Her hair beneath its not very smart hat shone golden +in the lamplight, and the little oval of cheek and rounded +chin which was all he could see of her averted face +somehow touched a forgotten chord in his heart and +made him think of his boyhood and the girl-mother +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +who had not lived long enough to be more than a memory....</p> +<p>“Don’t think I’m interfering or trying to annoy you,” +he said again. “But if there is anything I can do to +help you....”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“There isn’t anything.... I ought to have +known better than to let you hear that I was crying +... there’s nothing the matter, I–––” Then quite +suddenly she broke down again into bitter sobbing. “Oh, +I’m so miserable––so utterly miserable––I wish I were +dead!”</p> +<p>Micky was appalled; he had heard women say that +sort of thing before, and had said it himself scores of +times, but never with that note of tragedy which he heard +in this girl’s voice.</p> +<p>Ten minutes ago he had considered himself the most +miserable of mortals because he had been let down over +a dinner; he was ashamed of his temper now as he stood +there in the starlight and listened to this girl’s sobbing.</p> +<p>“Look here,” he said after a moment, “you’ll never feel +any better if you stay out here in the cold. I don’t +suppose you’ve had a respectable meal for hours either––I +know what women are. Where do you live? You’ll +soon feel better when you get beside a fire and have +something to eat.”</p> +<p>“I’m not going home any more,” she said.</p> +<p>She spoke quite quietly, but with a sort of despair +which there was no mistaking.</p> +<p>Micky was a rapid thinker. He had clean forgotten +his headache. This was adventure with a capital letter. +There was still something of romance in the world which +his jaded palate had not yet tasted.</p> +<p>“I’m sure you’re tired,” he said gently, “and probably +fed-up. So am I. I was just wondering what in the +world to do with myself when I heard you crying. It +made me feel a sort of kinship with you––it did, upon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +my word. If I’d been a woman I dare say I should have +been howling like anything. Will you come along with +me and let me give you some supper? I’m hungry +too....”</p> +<p>She shrank back from him with a little gesture of +fear.</p> +<p>“Oh no––please let me go!...”</p> +<p>She tried to pass him, but Micky barred the way.</p> +<p>“You can’t walk about the streets all night,” he said +determinedly. “The cat will hate it anyway, even if you +don’t mind.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice, +though he had never felt more serious in all his life. +“And if you don’t want me to take pity on you, you +might at least take pity on me ... please don’t think +I’m a bounder trying to annoy you or anything like that +... perhaps I want a friend just as badly as you +do....” He stopped, aghast at his own temerity.</p> +<p>“If you do,” she said tremulously, “I am more sorry +for you than I can say.”</p> +<p>“I’m glad you said that,” Micky answered, “because +now you’ll come along and have that supper with me. +There’s a little café quite near here that I know. If we +are both miserable, we can at least be miserable together.”</p> +<p>Something told him that this girl was at the end of her +tether; that she was desperate, and his first casual curiosity +concerning her deepened in the most surprising +fashion.</p> +<p>He felt in some inexplicable way that a curtain had +been lifted from a phase of life hitherto hidden from +him; as if he were standing on the threshold of a new +world, where women only weep for something real and +tragic, not just butterfly tears of petulance like the women +of his own class.</p> +<p>The girl was silent for a moment; then suddenly she +laughed, a hard little laugh of recklessness.</p> +<p>“Very well,” she said. “I suppose I may as well.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span></div> +<p>Micky was infinitely relieved; somehow he had not +really thought that she would allow him to accompany +her.</p> +<p>They walked along for a few steps in silence. Once +or twice the cat, tucked under the girl’s arm, gave a faint +mieow of protest, and Micky smiled to himself in the +darkness.</p> +<p>It was the cat that seemed to give such a real touch +of pathos to the whole adventure, he thought, and wondered +why. He looked down at her deprecatingly.</p> +<p>“Let me carry it,” he suggested.</p> +<p>“Carry it?” she echoed. “What do you mean?––Oh, +the cat; no, thank you. He wouldn’t like it: he hates +strangers.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” said Micky. He felt chagrined. “Is it a great +pet?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Yes.” She hunched her queer burden more closely +under her arm. “It isn’t really mine,” she explained. +“But they were so unkind to it in the house that I had +to bring it.”</p> +<p>Micky was dying to ask questions, but somehow it +hardly seemed a propitious moment. He did not speak +again till they reached the little café.</p> +<p>It was a quiet little downstairs place, and just now was +almost deserted.</p> +<p>Micky chose a corner table which was partially +screened from the rest of the room. As he stood up to +take off his coat he looked at the girl interestedly.</p> +<p>She was better than pretty, he decided with a little +pleasurable thrill; he could not remember when he had +seen a face that appealed to him so strongly in spite of +its pathos and the tear stains round her eyes.</p> +<p>And such sweet eyes they were!––really grey with dark +lashes and daintily pencilled brows. She looked up suddenly, +meeting his earnest regard.</p> +<p>“Well?” she said. There was a touch of defiance in +her voice; the colour had risen in her white cheeks.</p> +<p>“Well?” said Micky with a friendly smile.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span></div> +<p>He sat down opposite to her; he was thanking his lucky +stars that the Delands’ message had reached him before +he changed into evening clothes; somehow as he looked at +this girl he felt slightly ashamed of his own lazy, luxurious +life and the banking account which, like the cruse of +oil, never failed. That this girl had no surplus of this +world’s goods he was certain, though she was neatly +dressed and was unmistakably a lady. Her gloves were +worn and had been carefully mended, and her coat looked +far too thin for such a cold night.</p> +<p>“Well, what are we going to have?” he asked. It was +surprising how cheerful he felt. “And what about that +wonderful cat of yours? By the way, hasn’t it got a +name?”</p> +<p>She smiled faintly.</p> +<p>“I call him Charlie,” she said.</p> +<p>“Charlie!” Micky’s eyes twinkled. “Well, it’s original, +anyway,” he said with a chuckle. “And Charlie must +have some milk, I suppose. I say, he’s a bit thin, isn’t +he?” he asked dubiously.</p> +<p>She had taken off the shawl which had been wrapped +about it, and the poor animal sat on her lap blinking in +the light, a forlorn enough specimen, with a long tail and +fierce eyes.</p> +<p>The girl stroked its head.</p> +<p>“He’s been half starved,” she said. “You’d be thin if +you hadn’t had any more to eat than he’s had.”</p> +<p>“I’m sure I should,” said Micky humbly. He thought +guiltily of the waste which he knew went on in his own +establishment; it was odd that it had never struck him +before that there must be many people in the world, not +to mention cats, who would be glad enough of the waste +from his table.</p> +<p>He picked up the menu to hide his discomfort. When +the waiter came he ordered the best dinner the restaurant +served. He was conscious that the girl was watching +him anxiously. When the waiter had gone, she said, “I +can’t afford to have a dinner like that.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span></div> +<p>Micky flushed crimson.</p> +<p>“I thought you were dining with me,” he stammered. +“I––I hope you will––I shall be only too honoured....”</p> +<p>Her grey eyes met his anxiously.</p> +<p>“I’ve never done a thing like this before,” she said in +distress. “I don’t know what you are thinking of me +... but ... well, I suppose I was just desperate....” +She broke off biting her lip, then she +rushed on again. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever see me +any more, so it doesn’t really matter much, but....”</p> +<p>“I hope to see you again, many times,” said Micky, +with an earnestness that surprised himself.</p> +<p>She looked away, and her face hardened.</p> +<p>“I suppose men are all the same,” she said, after a +moment. “However....” she shrugged her shoulders +with a sort of recklessness that made Micky frown. She +leaned back in her chair with sudden weariness. “It’s +very kind of you,” she said disinterestedly.</p> +<p>“It’s not kind at all,” he hastened to assure her. “I’m +much more pleased to be with you than you are to be with +me. If it hadn’t been for you I should have spent this +evening alone––New Year’s Eve, too,” he added, with a +sort of chagrin and a sudden memory of Marie Deland.</p> +<p>“New Year’s Eve!” she echoed. She closed her eyes +for a moment, and Micky had an uncomfortable sort of +feeling that she was looking back on the year that was +dying and could see nothing pleasant in the whole of the +twelve months. Presently she opened them again with a +little sigh. “Well, I don’t want another year like the +last one,” she said.</p> +<p>“You won’t have,” he told her promptly. “I’ve got a +sort of feeling that there are lots of good things coming +along for you. The luck has to change some time or +other, and if you’ve had a rotten time in the past you +won’t have it in the future.”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe in luck,” she said.</p> +<p>“Don’t you? I do,” Micky declared. He hated the +despondency in her face; he felt a strong desire to see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +her smiling and happy. He rattled on, talking any nonsense +that came into his head.</p> +<p>The waiter came down the room and set the dishes +on the table. He gave a sort of supercilious sniff when +Micky asked for a saucer of milk for the cat. He looked +at Charlie with scorn––Charlie, curled up on the girl’s +lap now and purring lustily.</p> +<p>“Of course, you know, we really ought to have a bottle +of wine,” Micky said dubiously. “Just something cheap, +as it’s New Year’s Eve.”</p> +<p>He would like to have given her champagne, but dared +not suggest it. He was quite sure that if she knew he +was a rich man she would fly off at a tangent. He ordered +an inexpensive bottle of red wine and filled her +glass.</p> +<p>“Well, here’s luck to the New Year,” he said sententiously. +“And to our delightfully unexpected meeting,” +he added.</p> +<p>She flushed up to her eyes.</p> +<p>“Are you always as kind to people as you have been to +me?” she asked tensely.</p> +<p>Micky blushed.</p> +<p>“Oh, I say!” he protested. “You don’t call this being +kind, do you? I assure you it’s just pure selfishness. I +should have spent my evening alone if we hadn’t met––and +I hate being alone; I bore myself stiff in five minutes. +I’m just––honoured that you should have allowed +me to eat my supper with you. If you knew how beastly +fed-up I was feeling ... the world seemed a positively +loathsome place.”</p> +<p>She laughed; she leaned her elbows on the table and +her chin in her hands, looking at him with thoughtful +eyes.</p> +<p>“Are you poor?” she asked with disarming frankness.</p> +<p>“Poor as a church mouse,” said Micky promptly. “At +least”––he hastened to amend his words––“I’m one of +those unfortunate beggars who spend money as fast as +they get it. I’ve never saved a halfpenny in my life.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></div> +<p>This at least was the truth.</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>“Neither have I––I’ve never had one to save....”</p> +<p>The despondency was back again in her voice; Micky +broke in hastily––</p> +<p>“Before we go any further I think we ought to know +one another’s names.” He fumbled in a pocket for a +card, but changed his mind quickly, remembering that +his cards bore the address of the expensive flat which he +honoured with his presence. “My name is Mellowes,” he +said. “I’ve got several Christian names as well, but people +call me Micky....” He waited, looking at her +expectantly. “Won’t you tell me yours?” he asked.</p> +<p>She was staring down at her plate. He could see the +dark fringe of lashes against her cheeks. Suddenly she +looked up.</p> +<p>“Why do you want to know my name? We shall +never meet again, I–––”</p> +<p>Micky leaned a little forward.</p> +<p>“If we don’t,” he said quietly, “it will be the greatest +disappointment I have ever had.”</p> +<p>She looked at him with a sort of fear.</p> +<p>“You don’t mean that,” she said, with a catch in her +voice. “You don’t really mean that ... you’re just +one of those men who say things like that to every woman +you–––” She broke off, struck by the chagrin in Micky’s +face. “No––I oughtn’t to have said that,” she went on +hurriedly. “I beg your pardon ... I ought not to +have said it, and I will tell you my name if you really +want to know. My name is Esther––Esther Shepstone.”</p> +<p>“Thank you!” said Micky. “And now we’re going to +drink to good resolutions for the New Year ... +have you made one yet?”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“What’s the use? Besides ... I don’t want to +make any.”</p> +<p>“Very well, then, I’ll make one for you.” He refilled +her glass and handed it to her. “Now say after me: ‘I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +resolve that during the coming year I will be good friends +with Micky Mellowes–––’ Oh, I say, don’t––please +don’t....”</p> +<p>She had dropped her face in her hands again, and +Micky had a miserable conviction that she was crying.</p> +<p>But he was wrong, for presently she looked up again, +and her eyes were dry, though a little hard and bright.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe in a man’s friendship for a woman,” +she said. “But I’ll say it, if you like,” and she took the +glass from his hand.</p> +<p>“And to-morrow,” said Micky presently, “I’m going to +take you out to tea or something––if I may,” he added +hurriedly.</p> +<p>He waited, but she did not speak. “May I?” he asked.</p> +<p>She was twisting the stem of her wineglass nervously; +after a moment she began to speak jerkily.</p> +<p>“When I came out to-night I didn’t mean to go back +any more,” she said. Her voice was low and full of a +weary bitterness. “I was so unhappy I didn’t want to live.” +She caught her breath. “If it hadn’t been for +you”––she was looking at him now with shame in her +eyes. “If it hadn’t been for you I shouldn’t have gone +back––ever–––” she added. “But now....”</p> +<p>“But now,” said Micky as she paused, “you’re going +back, and we’re going to start the new year––friends, +you and I! Is that a bargain?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Yes....”</p> +<p>Outside Micky hailed a taxicab.</p> +<p>“You’re much too tired to walk,” he said when she +protested. “And it will be a new experience for Charlie,” +he added with a twinkle.</p> +<p>He put her into the cab, and stood for a moment at +the door.</p> +<p>“And the address?” he asked.</p> +<p>She hesitated, looking away from him; then suddenly +she told him.</p> +<p>“It’s Brixton Road––it’s––it’s a very horrid boarding-house,” +she added with a half-sigh.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>“Boarding-houses are all horrid,” said Micky cheerily. +“But I’ll come down myself to-morrow and see how +bad it really is.”</p> +<p>He tried to see her face.</p> +<p>“Shall you be in if I come in the afternoon?” he +asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“About four, then,” said Micky. He groped for her +hand, found it, and pressed it. “Good-night,” he said.</p> +<p>“Good-night.”</p> +<p>And the next moment Micky was alone in the starlight.</p> +<p>He stood looking after the taxi with a queer sense +of unreality. Had he just dreamt it all, and was there +really no such girl as Esther Shepstone? No Charlie? +He shook himself together with a laugh. Of course it +was real, all of it! He walked on soberly through the +cold night.</p> +<p>To-morrow he would go to the very horrid boarding-house +in the Brixton Road and see her again.</p> +<p>Esther! He liked her name; there was something +quaint and old-world about it. It seemed impossible that +they had only met a few hours ago.</p> +<p>His headache had quite vanished. He was whistling +a snatch of song when he let himself into the house +and went upstairs.</p> +<p>He opened the door of his sitting-room, and then +stopped dead on the threshold. The lights were burning +fully, and a man was ensconced in his favourite armchair +by the fire––Ashton. Lord! he had forgotten all +about Ashton.</p> +<p>Micky looked guiltily at the clock––nearly eleven!––he +began a half-apology.</p> +<p>“Awfully sorry, old man––I was kept.... Been +waiting long?”</p> +<p>“I got here at ten.”</p> +<p>Ashton climbed out of the chair and looked at Micky +with a sort of shamefacedness.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span></div> +<p>“Don’t take your coat off,” he said suddenly. “I want +you to come out again–––”</p> +<p>“Out! Now! Look at the time, man!”</p> +<p>“I know––it’s only eleven.... I’m catching the +midnight to Dover....”</p> +<p>Micky stared.</p> +<p>“Dover! What in the world....”</p> +<p>Ashton turned round and looked down at the fire with +a sort of embarrassment.</p> +<p>“It’s the mater,” he said jerkily. “She’s found out–––”</p> +<p>Micky looked puzzled.</p> +<p>“Found out! What on earth....”</p> +<p>Ashton made an impatient gesture. He was a good-looking +man, with dark eyes that could look all manner +of things without in the least meaning them.</p> +<p>“About that girl at Eldred’s,” he said in a strangled +voice. “You know! I told you about her. Lord, man, +don’t look so confoundedly ignorant! I told you about +her,” he broke off. “Well, some one’s told the mater, +and this morning....” he shrugged his shoulders. +“There’s been old Harry to pay! She told me if I didn’t +give her up she’d cut me out of her will. She would, +too!” he added, in savage parenthesis.</p> +<p>“Well! and what did you say?”</p> +<p>Ashton looked round.</p> +<p>“Hang it all! what could I say? Told her I would, of +course.”</p> +<p>There was a sharp silence.</p> +<p>“I thought you liked the girl,” said Micky bluntly.</p> +<p>The other man winced.</p> +<p>“So I did––so I do.... It’s a rotten shame. If +you’d ever seen her ... you never have, have you?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Neither has the mater.... Women are all the +same; because the girl has to work for her living they +think she isn’t fit for me to marry.... It’s all a lot +of rot.... However––beggars can’t be choosers––and +so I’m off to-night.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></div> +<p>Micky looked at him keenly.</p> +<p>“You mean that you’re going without a word to the +girl?”</p> +<p>“What can I do?––I went and saw her this morning––we +had a rotten scene. I meant to tell her it was all +up, but somehow I couldn’t; I’m too dashed fond of her, +and that’s the truth. I can’t bear to see her cry––it +makes me feel such a cur....”</p> +<p>He waited a moment, but Micky made no comment.</p> +<p>“So the only thing is to clear out,” Ashton went on +jerkily. “I can’t afford to quarrel with the mater, you +know that.... Perhaps some day....” He +stopped. “After all, she can’t live for ever,” he added +brutally.</p> +<p>Micky said nothing.</p> +<p>“So I’m off to-night,” Ashton went on with an effort. +“I wanted to see you––I knew I could trust you....” +He fumbled in a pocket. “There’s a letter here.... +I’ve written––I couldn’t see her again. I know I’m a +coward, but ... well, there it is!”</p> +<p>He threw the letter down on the table.</p> +<p>“Will you go and see her, old chap, and give her +that?” he asked with an effort. “Tell her I––oh, tell +her what you like,” he went on fiercely. “Tell her that +if I could afford it....”</p> +<p>He stopped again, and this time the silence was unbroken +for some minutes.</p> +<p>Then he roused himself and picked up his coat. “Well, +I must be getting along. I left my baggage at the station.”</p> +<p>He looked at Micky. “I suppose you think I’m an infernal +sweep, eh?” he asked curtly.</p> +<p>“No,” said Micky.</p> +<p>He had always expected that Ashton’s romance would +end like this, and he felt vaguely sorry for the girl, +though he had never seen her. She must have expected +it, too, he thought. She must have known Ashton’s position +all along. He followed his friend out of the room.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></div> +<p>“You haven’t told me her address,” he said suddenly.</p> +<p>He decided that it would be better to send the letter––he +did not want to see her. He hated a scene as much +as Ashton did.</p> +<p>Ashton was at the top of the stairs.</p> +<p>“It’s on the letter. What have you done with it?”</p> +<p>There was an irritable note in his voice. “Don’t leave +it lying there for that man of yours to see.”</p> +<p>Micky went back into the room. The letter lay on +the table where Ashton had thrown it down.</p> +<p>He picked it up, glancing casually at the written address +as he did so. Then suddenly his tall figure stiffened, +and a curiously blank look filled his eyes, for the +name scribbled there in Ashton’s writing was––</p> +<p>“Miss Esther Shepstone,” and, below it, the number +of the very horrid boarding-house in the Brixton Road.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II' id='CHAPTER_II'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky stood staring at the envelope in his hand. +He felt as if something had happened to paralyse +all power of action.</p> +<p>Esther Shepstone and Ashton’s girl from Eldred’s were +one and the same; that was all he could grasp, and it +sounded absurd and impossible.</p> +<p>He had heard so much of this girl––Ashton had talked +about her times without number––Lallie he had called +her; now he came to think of it, Micky could not remember +having ever heard her spoken of by any other name; +and Lallie and Esther Shepstone were one and the same.</p> +<p>Was this, then, why she had cried, because of Ashton...?</p> +<p>Ashton called to him impatiently from the stairs.</p> +<p>“What the deuce are you doing? I shall miss my +train.”</p> +<p>Micky roused himself with a start, and, dropping the +letter into his pocket, went slowly out of the room; he +felt as if he could not have hurried had his life depended +upon it; there was an absurdly cold sort of feeling round +his heart.</p> +<p>It was ridiculous, of course; it was nothing to him +if the girl with whom he had dined an hour ago loved +Ashton; he had never seen her before. That sounded +an absurd truth, too; it seemed impossible that until this +evening he and she had never met.</p> +<p>“For heaven’s sake, hurry up, man,” said Ashton again +sharply.</p> +<p>He was at the bottom of the stairs; the face he turned +over his shoulder to Micky looked pale and harassed.</p> +<p>Micky quickened his steps and joined his friend in the +porch below; they stood together out on the path waiting +for a taxicab.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></div> +<p>Micky glanced at Ashton with a curious sense of unreality; +he felt as if he had never seen him before; it +seemed impossible that this Ashton could know Esther––and +Charlie!</p> +<p>A taxicab drew up to the kerb; Ashton banged open +the door and got in. Micky followed, and they drove +some way in silence.</p> +<p>“I’ll take thundering good care I don’t stay away +long,” Ashton said suddenly, with a sort of growl. “And +if the mater thinks it will make me forget Lallie–––”</p> +<p>“I thought her name was Esther,” said Micky quietly. +He was looking out of the window into the starry night.</p> +<p>“So it is––but I always call her Lallie.” He looked +at his friend with a sort of vague suspicion. “How do +you know what her name is?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I saw it on the letter you gave me.”</p> +<p>Ashton grunted.</p> +<p>“I think it would be better if you posted it to her +yourself and have done with it,” Micky said with an +effort. “I’m a rotten hand at this sort of thing. It can’t +do any good if I go and see her.”</p> +<p>“You said you would go––you might be a sport and +stick to your word,” Ashton protested. “I’d do the +same for you any day.”</p> +<p>Micky rather doubted it, but did not like to say so.</p> +<p>“If you knew how sick I am about the whole business,” +Ashton went on jerkily. “You may not believe +me, but I tell you, Micky, that I’d marry that girl to-morrow +if only–––”</p> +<p>“If only––what?” Micky asked as he paused.</p> +<p>“Oh, you know! What the dickens can I do without +a bob to my name except what the mater chooses to +dole out? I tell you,” he went on with a sort of snarl, +“it’ll be very different when I get the money. Gad! if +only I’d got it now!”</p> +<p>“Money isn’t everything,” said Micky sententiously. +“And if you like the girl, why not marry her and face +it out?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></div> +<p>Ashton gave a savage little laugh.</p> +<p>“It’s all very fine for you to say that money isn’t +everything––that’s only because you’ve got it, and are +never likely to be without it. You don’t know what it +feels like to be up to your eyes in debt and not knowing +where to turn for a fiver. Bah! what’s the good of +talking?” He let down the window with a run, turning +his face to the keen night air.</p> +<p>They were nearing their destination, and there was +still something he wanted to say to Micky which so far, +he had been afraid to put into words.</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose I shan’t be seeing you again for a +bit,” he said, with rather a forced laugh. “You’ve been +a good pal to me, Micky–––”</p> +<p>Micky said “Rot!” rather shortly; he frowned in the +darkness; Ashton got on his nerves; he rather wished +he had not come to see him off.</p> +<p>“Oh, but you have––whether you like me to say so +or not,” the other man went on obstinately. “And––and +there’s one last thing I’m going to ask you before I +go....”</p> +<p>He waited, but Micky did not speak.</p> +<p>The taxi was turning into the station yard now, moving +slowly because of the congested traffic.</p> +<p>“If you could give Lallie some money,” Ashton went +on with a rush. “I’d send her some, but I’ve only just +got enough to get out of the way with. I’ll pay you +back as soon as the mater condescends to send me another +cheque....”</p> +<p>Micky’s face felt hot.</p> +<p>“Hasn’t she––hasn’t she got any, then?” he asked with +an effort.</p> +<p>“No––at least I promised her some when I saw her +this morning. She––she’s left Eldred’s. You see”––he +drew a hard breath––“you see, I hoped we’d be able to +get married, and so––well, there was no sense in her staying +on there. She was worked to death, poor kid.”</p> +<p>He glanced at Micky, but could not see his face.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>“You understand, don’t you?” he said, encouraged by +his silence. “She owes them a bit at the boarding-house +where she is living. I promised to wipe it off for her, +but the mater cutting up rough altered everything, and +so ... if you could give her a little–––”</p> +<p>“I’ll see to it,” said Micky. He opened the door of +the taxi and got out before it was at a standstill. He +took off his hat and let the cold air play on his hot +forehead. He could hardly trust himself to speak.</p> +<p>He was thankful when Ashton went off to see to his +luggage. He walked into the station and found himself +aimlessly staring at a notice board. He could not remember +when he had felt so furiously angry.</p> +<p>Had Ashton changed? he was asking himself in bewilderment. +Or was it merely that he had never seen +the man he really was until to-night?</p> +<p>He tried to remember what Ashton had told him about +Esther Shepstone in the past. That she had been at +Eldred’s he knew, and that Eldred’s was a place where +women bought silk petticoats and things he also knew. +He had heard Marie Deland and her friends talking +about it lots of times. Marie had once invited him to +accompany her there when they had been out together, +but he had refused and had waited outside for her. Now +he came to think of it, that was about all Ashton had +ever told him of Esther Shepstone.</p> +<p>He knew that Ashton had been seen about with her a +great deal; knew that he had had to stand a lot of harmless +chaff in consequence; he himself had joked about +Ashton’s “latest” as they had all called her: it seemed a +memory to be ashamed of, when he thought of the way +he had heard her sobbing in the street that night, of the +distress in her eyes, of the hopeless way in which she +had spoken.</p> +<p>Ashton rejoined him.</p> +<p>“Buck up! The train’s in.”</p> +<p>They went along the platform, followed by a porter +with Ashton’s baggage. Micky looked at it resentfully; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +Ashton was evidently prepared to enjoy himself; this was +no rush after mere solitude and forgetfulness.</p> +<p>He stood stiffly at the carriage door while Ashton +stowed his smaller traps on the rack. Presently he came +to the window.</p> +<p>“You’ll do the best you can, won’t you, old man?” +There was a real anxiety in his eyes, but Micky was not +looking at him; he answered stiffly––</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ll do what I can.”</p> +<p>“She’ll soon get another job,” Ashton went on, with +forced confidence. “I’m sorry she left Eldred’s, now it’s +come to this, but how was I to know?” he appealed to +Micky, but he might as well have appealed to a brick +wall for all response he got.</p> +<p>“And when I come back–––” he said again. “Tell +her that when I come back many things may be all right +again ... tell her that, will you?”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell her,” said Micky stolidly.</p> +<p>The guard was blowing his whistle now, doors were +being shut.</p> +<p>Micky roused himself and looked at his friend.</p> +<p>“Are you––er––are you going to write to her?” he +asked constrainedly.</p> +<p>Ashton coloured.</p> +<p>“No––it’s better not––far better let the thing drop till +I come back. I’ve explained it all in my letter––she’ll understand. +It’s no use writing––don’t you think it’s better +not–––”</p> +<p>Micky hunched his shoulders.</p> +<p>“It’s your affair,” he said laconically.</p> +<p>“Yes, well, I shan’t write––I’ll send you my address +as soon as I know where I’m staying, and you can let +me know what she said and how she takes it.... +Oh, confound it!”</p> +<p>A porter had come along and slammed the door; the +train was slowly moving; Micky was vaguely glad that +there had been no time in which to shake hands. A +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +moment, and he was walking away alone down the platform.</p> +<p>His hands were deep thrust in the pockets of his coat; +he took no notice of anything; he walked on and out +of the station.</p> +<p>Well, this had been an eventful New Year’s Eve with a +vengeance; he glanced up at the clock in the dome behind +him––only a quarter to twelve now, and yet so much +had been crowded into the past four hours. Since the +moment when the Delands rang up to cancel his engagement +to dine he seemed to have stepped out of the +old world into a new. He wondered what Esther Shepstone +was doing in the very horrid boarding-house of +which she had told him––if she was thinking of Ashton.</p> +<p>What a cad the man was, what a cad!––he was amazed +that he had not discovered it before––to clear off and +leave a girl like this, without a word of farewell except +the letter. He wondered if he meant to deliver it and +admit that he knew Ashton, or if he meant just to stick +a stamp on and post it to her.</p> +<p>He realised that there was nothing very much to be +proud of in an admission that he knew Ashton, and yet +they had been friends for years.</p> +<p>It was striking twelve when he got home; he stood for +a moment on the doorstep, looking up at the starry sky.</p> +<p>Several clocks were chiming midnight in the distance; +he listened with a queer sense of fatalism.</p> +<p>This was the strangest New Year’s Eve he had ever +spent in his life. At this hour last year he had been +dancing the old year out, and to-night, had things gone +as he had thought, he would have been somewhere with +Marie Deland––he might even have proposed to her by +this time. He smiled faintly, remembering that the intention +had really been somewhere in the background +of his mind; but that, too, had faded out now to give +place to other, more important, factors.</p> +<p>Nine, ten, eleven, twelve! He counted the strokes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +mechanically; there was a breathless pause, then the clash +of bells.</p> +<p>Some irrepressibles in a block of flats near by raised a +cheer; the front door of a house opposite was open, and +Micky caught a glimpse of a crowded hall and black-coated +men and girls in pretty frocks.</p> +<p>He felt strangely removed from all the noise and laughter; +after a moment he turned and went up to his room.</p> +<p>The fire had been carefully made up and his slippers +and dressing-gown put to warm. Micky looked at them +with a sort of disgust; it was sickening for a healthy +grown man to be so pampered; he kicked the slippers +into a corner and tossed the dressing-gown on to the +couch.</p> +<p>He wondered what sort of a room Esther Shepstone +had in the very horrid boarding-house––what odd corner +the thin black cat curled into to sleep.</p> +<p>He took Ashton’s letter from his pocket and stuck it +up against the clock on the mantelshelf.</p> +<p>“Miss Esther Shepstone....”</p> +<p>It was fate, that’s what it was! He wondered if she +would ever have lived to get that letter had fate not +thrown her across his path that night.</p> +<p>She had been desperate––at the end of her tether, and +all for the sake of that cad Ashton.</p> +<p>He turned his back on the letter and lit a cigarette, but +he let it go out almost at once, and turned back again +to stare once more at the name scrawled on the envelope.</p> +<p>What had Ashton written to her? It worried him because +he did not know. Ashton had had other love-affairs––not +quite such serious ones, perhaps, but still serious +enough––and Micky knew that when he had wearied +of them he had set about getting free of them by the +shortest route, caring little if it were also a brutal one. +He thought of the despair he had seen in Esther’s face +that evening; he dreaded that there might be something +in Ashton’s farewell letter that would plunge her back +more deeply into her misery.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span></div> +<p>Out in the night the bells were still ringing joyously.</p> +<p>It was New Year’s morning, and perhaps, if he sent +that letter ... He stood quite still for a moment, +staring at it; then suddenly he threw his cigarette into +the fire and snatched the letter down from the shelf.</p> +<p>He tore it open impulsively and drew out the enclosure. +He unfolded it and began to read. The silence of +the room was unbroken save for the little crisp sound +as Micky turned the paper; then the letter fluttered to +the rug at his feet and lay there, half-curled up, as if it +were ashamed of the words it bore and wished to hide +them.</p> +<p>Micky raised his eyes and looked at his reflection in +the glass above the mantelshelf. The pallor of his face +surprised him, and the look of passionate anger in his +eyes.</p> +<p>He was a man of the world. He was no better and +no worse than many of the men whom he knew and +called his friends, but this letter, in its brutal callousness, +seemed to shame his very manhood.</p> +<p>He had liked Ashton, had been his constant companion +for months, but he had never suspected him of being +capable of this.</p> +<p>He supposed he ought to be ashamed of having opened +the letter, but he was not ashamed; he was glad that he +had been able to spare the girl this last and hardest +blow of all––the knowledge that the man whom she loved +and trusted was unworthy.</p> +<p>Presently he picked the letter up from the rug. He +picked it up with the tips of his fingers, as if it were +something repulsive to him, and threw it down on the +table.</p> +<p>The first few words stared up at him as it lay there.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Dear Lallie</span>,––By the time you get this letter I shall be out of +England, and I hope you won’t make things worse for me than +they already are by trying to find out where I have gone or by +writing to my people and making a scene. The worst of these +little flirtations is that they always have to end, as this must, and +you must have known it.”...</p> +</blockquote> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></div> +<p>Micky drew in his breath hard; not an hour ago in +this very room Ashton had made out how cut-up he was +at the turn his affairs had taken, and yet all the time he +had written this letter.</p> +<p>He flicked over a page and read on:––</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“... I shall never forget you and the good times we’ve had +together. I should try and get back at Eldred’s, if I were you. +It’s a good thing we didn’t get married as matters have turned +out, or the fat would have been in the fire with a vengeance. As +it is, I shall have all my work cut out to put the mater in a good +temper again. I am sending you some money by Mickey Mellowes; +he’s a friend of mine and as rich as Crœsus, and as +selfish as the devil. If he offers to take you out, let him, by all +means. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if he took a fancy to you; he +doesn’t care a hang for any one but himself. If only I’d got half +his money ... but what’s the use of talking about it? Anyway, +this is good-bye; I shan’t write again. Be a sensible girl, +and try to see things from my point of view. It would only have +meant ruin for both of us if I’d stuck to you. Good-bye; I send +you my love for the last time.</p> +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Raymond Ashton</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And this from the man whom she loved; the man who +had pretended to love her!</p> +<p>Micky dragged forward a chair with his foot and sat +down straddlewise. He leaned an elbow on the chair-back +and ran his fingers through his hair with a sort of +bewilderment.</p> +<p>“He’s as rich as Crœsus and as selfish as the devil....”</p> +<p>And this from Ashton, his friend––the man whom he +had helped out of scrapes scores of times; the man to +whom he had lent money without the least hope of its +ever being returned; Micky felt as if he had a blow in +the face.</p> +<p>His thoughts were in a whirl; the whole world needed +readjusting. Was he selfish? he asked himself in perplexity––if +so, it was quite unconsciously, and anyway +Ashton was the last person who should have made the +accusation.</p> +<p>“I am sending you some money by a friend of +mine....”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span></div> +<p>There was no hint that the money was first to be borrowed; +he had evidently been sure of his prey; Micky +swore under his breath.</p> +<p>Of course, Ashton had not dreamed of the letter being +opened, had not dreamed of anything but that his carefully-made +plans would be minutely carried out and nothing +more said.</p> +<p>Micky sat for a long time, lost in thought; the hands +of the clock crawled round to one and the chime struck; +he looked up then, glancing at the clock vaguely.</p> +<p>If he had not met Esther Shepstone there might have +been no Esther in the world at all now; if he allowed +that letter to reach its destination he would be plunging +her back again into the abyss of despair from which he +had dragged her only that evening. She loved Ashton; of +that Micky was sure. Very well then, she should at least +have some part of her ideal left to her.</p> +<p>He went over to his desk and took up paper and pen; +he spread Ashton’s letter out before him and studied the +writing carefully.</p> +<p>Ordinary sort of writing, rather unformed and sprawly, +but after a trial run Micky managed a very presentable +copy of it.</p> +<p>He sat back in his chair and eyed his handiwork with +pride; he had missed his vocation, he told himself with a +chuckle; he ought to have been a forger.</p> +<p>Then he dipped the pen in the ink again and squared +his elbows. He had never written a love-letter in his life, +but he knew positively that he was about to write one +now.</p> +<p>He thought of Esther and the wistfulness of her grey +eyes; she was the girl whom a man could love. He coloured +a little as the thought involuntarily crossed his +mind; she was a girl whom––he began to write rapidly.</p> +<p>“My darling little girl–––”</p> +<p>Micky was naturally rather eloquent with his pen, +though he had never before tried it in this especial direction.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<p>“This is the most difficult letter I have ever had to +write in all my life; first, because I love you so much; +and, secondly, because I am afraid it is going to hurt you +nearly as much as it hurts me. Dear, as it will be some +time before I see you again, and because I cannot explain +everything to you, I am going to ask you to trust +me till we meet again. I am leaving England to-night....”</p> +<p>Micky paused and ran his fingers through his hair +agitatedly before he struggled on once more: “I shall +be thinking of you every minute till we meet again, and +of the happy times we have had together. I will write +to you whenever I can....” The pen paused, and +Micky groaned, recalling that Ashton had said he should +not write at all.</p> +<p>“It’ll have to do, anyway,” he muttered, and again the +pen flew: “I’m not much of a hand at writing letters, +as you know, but you must try and read between the +lines, and guess at all I would say were we together +... All I will say to you when we meet again.”</p> +<p>That last sentence was rather neat, Micky thought with +pride, then a wave of compunction swept through his +heart as he remembered the tragedy behind it all, and he +finished the page soberly enough: “Ever yours, Raymond +Ashton.”</p> +<p>“Damn him!” said Micky under his breath, as he blotted +the signature; then he took two ten-pound notes from +a drawer in his desk, and, enclosing them in the envelope, +sealed and stamped it.</p> +<p>It was half-past one, but Micky climbed into his coat +again. He locked Ashton’s letter into his desk, and, taking +the one he had written, went quietly down to the +street.</p> +<p>The world was sleeping and deserted, and Micky’s footsteps +echoed hollowly along the pavement.</p> +<p>“You’re a fool, you know!” he told himself, with a +sort of humour. “You’re a bally fool, my boy! It won’t +end here, you see if it does.”</p> +<p>But he went on to the pillar-box at the street corner.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></div> +<p>When he reached it he stood for a moment with the +letter in his hand.</p> +<p>“You’re a fool,” he told himself again hardily. “Micky, +my boy, you’re a bally idiot, interfering with what doesn’t +concern you––with what doesn’t concern you in the very +least.”</p> +<p>He looked up at the stars and thought of Esther Shepstone, +of her eyes and her wavering smile, and the soft +note in her voice as she had asked him––</p> +<p>“Are you always as kind to every one as you have +been to me?”</p> +<p>No concern of his! It was every concern of his; he +knew that he was only living for the hours to pass before +he saw her again. No concern of his! when the greatest +miracle of all the world had come to pass during those +last hours of the old year, inasmuch that Micky Mellowes, +heartwhole and a bachelor for thirty odd years, +had been bowled over by a girl without a shilling to her +name––a girl who loved another man, but a girl to whom +Micky had without wishing it, without knowing it, dedicated +the rest of his life!</p> +<p>He was her champion for the future, some one to +stand between her and the callousness of the man of +whom even now she was probably thinking.</p> +<p>“No concern of mine!” said Micky to himself with fine +scorn. “Why, of course it is! Every concern of mine.”</p> +<p>He squared his shoulders and dropped the envelope +into the pillar-box.</p> +<p>And so Micky Mellowes posted his first love-letter.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III' id='CHAPTER_III'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +</div> +<p>In spite of the events of the night Micky Mellowes +slept soundly. It was half-past nine when he woke, +to find his man Driver moving noiselessly about the +room.</p> +<p>When he saw that Micky was awake he approached +the bed.</p> +<p>“Good-morning, sir, and a happy New Year.”</p> +<p>Driver had an expressionless voice; he announced tea +or tragedy in exactly the same tone.</p> +<p>“Eh?” said Micky vacantly; the words opened the door +of memory, and he sat up with a start. It was New +Year’s Day, and last night ... ye gods! what had +not happened last night? Micky tingled to the tips of +his fingers as he remembered the letter he had written +and posted; he had expected to feel rotten about it in +the light of day; it was an agreeable surprise to find +that he did not feel anything of the kind.</p> +<p>When he went in to breakfast there was a pile of letters +waiting for him; he looked them through carelessly––there +was one from Marie Deland, which he opened +with a vague feeling of nervousness.</p> +<p>Marie was a nice little girl; he really was quite fond +of her, and yet ... surely the days of miracles had +not yet passed away, seeing that in a few short hours +his feeling for her had changed from something warmer +to more brotherly affection.</p> +<p>It made him feel uncomfortable to read what she had +written; it was really only quite an ordinary letter of +regret that she had not seen him last night, but Micky +imagined he could read more between the lines.</p> +<p>“... I quite hoped you would drop in, if only +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +for a few moments,” so she wrote. “It’s been so dull. +I am writing this alone in the library.”</p> +<p>Micky knew that library well; he and she had spent a +good deal of time there together talking sweet nothings; +he wondered if he would have been an engaged man by +this time if that relative of the Delands had not so conveniently +died, and if Esther had not chosen his particular +street in which to weep.</p> +<p>He screwed the letter up and tossed it into the fire; +he would answer it some time, or call; there was no immediate +hurry. When he had finished his breakfast he +went to his locked desk and took out Ashton’s letter––somehow +until he actually saw it again he could not quite +believe that the events of last night had not all been a +dream; but the letter was real enough, at all events with +its callous beginning to “Dear Lallie.”</p> +<p>The morning seemed to drag; twice people rang him +up on the ’phone and asked him to lunch, but Micky +was not in the mood for lunch; he felt a suppressed sort +of excitement, as if something of great import were +about to happen.</p> +<p>Driver looked at him woodenly once or twice; his face +was as expressionless as his voice, but his dull eyes saw +everything, and behind them his keen brain wondered +what had happened to make Micky so restless.</p> +<p>Towards one o’clock he ventured a gentle reminder.</p> +<p>“You have an engagement for half-past three, sir––Miss +Langdon’s.”</p> +<p>Micky was yawning over the paper then; he looked up +with an absurdly blank face.</p> +<p>“Oh, I say!––well, I can’t go, anyway. What was it +for? I’m going out––I’ve got an important appointment.”</p> +<p>Driver never showed surprise at anything if he felt it.</p> +<p>“It was a musical ‘At ’Ome,’ sir,” he answered stolidly. +“Shall I ring up and say that you won’t be able to come?”</p> +<p>“Yes, ring up,” said Micky. He coloured self-consciously +beneath the man’s stoic eyes and hurriedly buried +his head again in the newspaper.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span></div> +<p>At three o’clock he changed his clothes for an immaculate +morning-coat and grey trousers; then, remembering +what Esther had said about the very horrid boarding-house, +he changed them again for the oldest tweed suit +in his possession, and a pair of brown boots that had +seen their best days and long since been condemned by +Driver.</p> +<p>“How in the world do I get to Brixton?” Micky asked +the man when he was ready. “I know I could take a +taxicab, but I don’t want to. What other ways are +there?”</p> +<p>Driver told him.</p> +<p>“There’s the train, sir, or a tram.”</p> +<p>Micky jumped at the tramcar. He was sure that people +who lived in Brixton must all use tramcars.</p> +<p>“How long would a tramcar take?” he asked.</p> +<p>Driver considered. Finally he said that he thought it +might be the best part of an hour.</p> +<p>Micky glanced at the clock. It was already a quarter +past three. He took up his hat hurriedly and went out +into the street.</p> +<p>A taxicab would have to do for to-day anyway. He +could dismiss it at the corner of the road and walk the +last few yards. A moment later he was being whirled +through the streets.</p> +<p>He sat leaning back in the corner with his feet up on +the seat opposite, feeling decidedly nervous.</p> +<p>Supposing he did not see Esther––supposing she were +not there? Supposing she had purposely given him the +wrong address? Supposing ... oh, supposing a +thousand and one things! Micky was full of apprehension +when at last the taxicab stopped at the corner of +the Brixton Road and the driver came to the door to +ask what number.</p> +<p>Micky scrambled out.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll walk the rest of the way.”</p> +<p>He paid the man liberally, and set out along the +crowded pathway. There were so many people about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +that he thought it must be a market day or something. +A word with a policeman elicited the information that he +was at quite the wrong end of the street for the number +he wanted. Micky was rather glad. He felt that he +needed time in which to collect his thoughts, and yet +when at last he reached his destination he felt as nervous +as a kitten and strongly inclined to go back. But he +went on and up the bare strip of garden which led to +the front door of the house. It wasn’t such a bad-looking +house, he thought. Not nearly as bad as he had expected +from the girl’s description. In fact, once upon a time it +must have been rather a palatial residence, but all the +windows now were boxed up with cheap, starchy-looking +curtains, and there was a sort of third-rate atmosphere +about the basement and the cheap knocker on the front +door.</p> +<p>Micky looked for a bell, but there wasn’t one, so he +knocked.</p> +<p>It seemed a long time before anybody came. When +at last they did he heard them coming for a long time +before the door was opened, heard slipshod steps on shiny +linoleum, and a husky sort of breathless cough.</p> +<p>The owner of the cough was young and scared-looking, +in shoes several sizes too large for her, and a skirt several +inches too short. When Micky asked for Miss Shepstone +she stared without answering for a moment, then she +turned and slopped back the way she had come, leaving +the door on the chain.</p> +<p>Micky chuckled to himself; she evidently did not like +the look of him.</p> +<p>He waited patiently; then he heard another step along +the shiny linoleumed floor of the hall––a very different +step this time––and, turning eagerly, he saw Esther herself +in the doorway.</p> +<p>“I didn’t really think you would come,” she said breathlessly.</p> +<p>For a moment Micky could not find his tongue. If +he had thought this girl pretty last night with the tears +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +in her eyes he thought her a thousand times prettier now. +She looked as if some magician hand had wiped the distress +from her face and convinced her that the sun still +shone.</p> +<p>She wore the same clothes she had worn last night, but +even they seemed somehow to have changed. There was +a bunch of violets pinned in her jacket. Micky wondered +if it were the violets that were responsible for the +alteration.</p> +<p>“When I make an appointment I always keep it,” he +said.</p> +<p>He had almost added “with any one like you,” but +thought better of it. “And are you going to let me take +you out to tea?” he asked.</p> +<p>She hesitated; she glanced back into the dingy hall +behind her.</p> +<p>“I am leaving here to-day,” she said. “My box has +gone already. If you will wait a moment ... I +would ask you in, but you’d hate it so.”</p> +<p>“I’ll wait outside,” said Micky.</p> +<p>He went down into the street. For the moment he +had quite forgotten all about Ashton and the letter which +must by this time be in Esther’s possession.</p> +<p>“And what about Charlie?” he asked whimsically when +she joined him.</p> +<p>She smiled, shaking her head.</p> +<p>“I sent him on––in a basket. Nobody wants him here––he +only gets badgered about all day long; so I’m taking +him with me. Do you think I ought not to?”</p> +<p>“I think Charlie is a most fortunate cat,” said Micky.</p> +<p>She did not take him seriously.</p> +<p>“I think he will be happier with me anyway,” she said +“I’m going to quite a nice boarding-house now. I went +out this morning and found it.” She looked up at him +with a smile. “I don’t think even you would mind coming +to tea there,” she said.</p> +<p>“I thought you were going to say mind coming there +to live,” Micky told her audaciously. “I’ve been looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +about for fresh diggings; I’m tired of mine.” He stopped +and glanced behind him. “Can we get a tramcar here?”</p> +<p>“I’m not tired,” she said quickly.</p> +<p>“Well, I must admit that I am,” Micky answered. He +hated walking at the best of times, and he did not like +to suggest another taxicab. “Let’s go on top.”</p> +<p>They climbed up and found a front seat; there was a +working man next to them smoking shag in a clay pipe; +he looked at Micky and Esther doubtfully, then asked––</p> +<p>“Does your good lady mind smoke, mister?”</p> +<p>Esther flushed.</p> +<p>“I don’t mind at all,” she said, laughing.</p> +<p>“You got home all right last night, then?” Micky said +presently. “After you had gone I wished I had seen you +safely in....”</p> +<p>“It’s kind of you, but I was quite all right.” There +was a note of constraint in her voice. “I should like to +thank you for what you did for me last night,” she said +hesitatingly.</p> +<p>“If it hadn’t been for you....” She stopped.</p> +<p>Micky did not know what to say.</p> +<p>“Anyway, it’s all right now, eh?” he asked presently, +with awkward cheerfulness. “I thought it would be; +when things look so black that they can’t possibly look +any blacker, they always begin to mend. I’ve found that +out before; I don’t know if you have.”</p> +<p>“I found it out this morning.”</p> +<p>Micky looked down at her. She was sitting with her +hands clasped together in her lap; there was a little flush +in her cheeks, and her lips were curved into a faint +smile.</p> +<p>“It seems so wonderful too,” she went on softly, “that +it should have happened on New Year’s Day–––”</p> +<p>“Fares, all fares, please,” said the conductor beside +them. Micky dived into a pocket and found a shilling.</p> +<p>“Two, please,” he said.</p> +<p>He had paid for and shared taxicabs with Marie Deland +times without number, but it had never given him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +quite the same pleasurable little thrill as he experienced +at this moment.</p> +<p>There was something so pleasantly familiar about this +tramcar ride, the fact of sharing the same uncomfortable +seat with Esther Shepstone.</p> +<p>“Penny ones?” the conductor asked.</p> +<p>Micky looked at the girl.</p> +<p>“Where shall we get off?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Penny ones will do,” she said.</p> +<p>Micky took the tickets and pocketed his change.</p> +<p>“I don’t know if there are any decent teashops round +here,” he said dubiously. “If you would rather go up to +the West End....”</p> +<p>But finally they found a confectioner’s quite close to +where the penny fare ended.</p> +<p>Micky looked round critically.</p> +<p>“Is this all right?” he asked. “I’ve never been here +before.”</p> +<p>“I have, often,” she said. She was drawing off her +gloves.</p> +<p>Micky glanced hurriedly at her hands; she was wearing +a ring. Hardly knowing that he did so, he leaned across +and touched it.</p> +<p>“Is that an engagement ring?” he asked. His voice +sounded a little breathless.</p> +<p>She looked up at him, drawing her hand away.</p> +<p>“Why do you ask me?”</p> +<p>He drew back; he shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon. I suppose I have no right to +ask.”</p> +<p>He ordered tea. He talked rather forced platitudes +for the rest of the time. He was just going to call for +the bill, when Esther Shepstone said suddenly––</p> +<p>“Mr. Mellowes, I should like to tell you something.”</p> +<p>“Yes!” Micky did not look at her. Somehow he could +not trust himself.</p> +<p>“I don’t in the least know why I want to tell you,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +she said again nervously. “But––you’ve been so kind to +me....”</p> +<p>“Yes!” said Micky gently, as she paused. “Yes, what +is it?”</p> +<p>She was twisting her teaspoon, and she kept her eyes +lowered.</p> +<p>“Last night, when I met you––I was very unhappy ... +There didn’t seem anything to live for in the world.... +I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that, or if you have +ever cared for any one––really cared, I mean––but if +you have....” She stopped again.</p> +<p>“I think I understand,” Micky said, with an effort. +“You mean that there’s some one, some man....”</p> +<p>She raised her grey eyes to his face.</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s what I mean.”</p> +<p>“Some man you care for––care for very much,” Micky +went on slowly. “Perhaps some one you have quarreled +with––who hadn’t been quite as ... kind as he +might have been–––”</p> +<p>The soft colour flooded her face.</p> +<p>“Did you guess––last night?” she asked shyly.</p> +<p>Micky smiled.</p> +<p>“Did I? I am not sure, perhaps.” He drew a long +breath that was half a sigh. “Well?” he queried.</p> +<p>“I don’t know why I am telling you this–––” she said +again, with a sort of distress. “It cannot interest you, +but, somehow, I think I should like you to know.”</p> +<p>“It interests me very much––I am honoured that you +should tell me.” Micky looked again at the ring she +wore; quite a cheap little ring, with a couple of inferior +diamonds. “You mean that you are engaged to be married?”</p> +<p>“Yes; at least–––” The words were only a whisper.</p> +<p>Micky sat very still.</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose you will have me for a friend all the +same, won’t you?” he asked with an effort.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></div> +<p>She looked at him in faint amazement.</p> +<p>“I thought if I told you that perhaps you’d rather +not....” She stopped in confusion.</p> +<p>Micky leaned a little closer over the table.</p> +<p>“You said last night that you didn’t believe in a man’s +friendship for a woman,” he said. “Well, I am going to +make you believe in it. I’m going to be your friend. +The fact that you are engaged makes no difference to +me, if it doesn’t to you.”</p> +<p>She looked at him earnestly.</p> +<p>“If you mean that,” she said, “I think I’m very glad.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. I suppose I mustn’t ask who the––the +lucky man is?”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“I can’t tell you. And he’s away now––out of England.”</p> +<p>Her voice changed a little, her eyes looked past Micky +as if for the moment she had forgotten him.</p> +<p>Micky watched her jealously.</p> +<p>“And so whatever was wrong last night is all right +to-day, is that it?” he asked with an effort.</p> +<p>“Yes ... somehow I never thought it would be, +but this morning–––”</p> +<p>“This morning?” he echoed as she stopped.</p> +<p>“I had a letter this morning,” she told him, and her +voice had softened so wonderfully that Micky caught his +breath. “Oh, I wonder if you have ever been as unhappy +as I was last night, and then had a letter, a wonderful +letter like I had this morning? There was something +in it that seemed to put everything right straight away; +something that I’ve always wanted before and never had. +I can’t explain it any better than that, but perhaps you +understand. I’m just telling you because I feel so happy +I must tell somebody, and because I didn’t want you to +misjudge him as I did yesterday. I thought he didn’t +really care, and I wanted to die, but to-day, when his letter +came–––” She broke off into a little happy laugh.</p> +<p>Micky had rammed his clenched hands into his pockets; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +the blood was hammering in his temples; his brain +felt in a whirl; somehow in all his wildest imaginings +he had never dreamed of this.</p> +<p>It was his letter that had brought that new look of +happiness to her eyes! His letter which perhaps even +then lay against her heart; the first love-letter he had +ever written to any woman, and she believed it to have +been written by Raymond Ashton!</p> +<p>He did not realise how long he sat there without speaking +till Esther spoke to him again. There was a little +anxious note in her voice.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid I’ve bored you horribly with all this. I +know it’s no interest to you, but I felt that I must tell +somebody.”</p> +<p>Micky roused himself with an effort.</p> +<p>“It’s of great interest to me,” he said. “And you +mustn’t ever say a thing like that again. We’re going to +be friends, and real friends are always interested in +everything that concerns the other. I’m more glad than +I can say that you’re happy. I only hope it’s going to +last for ever.”</p> +<p>Perhaps there was a dubious note in his voice, for an +anxious gleam crept into the girl’s eyes.</p> +<p>“You sound as if you don’t think that it will,” she said +quickly.</p> +<p>Micky made a hurried disclaimer.</p> +<p>“I do think so, of course I do! You deserve all the +happiness you can get, and whoever the man is, if he +doesn’t make you happy–––”</p> +<p>He stopped, with frowning memory of Ashton and +their parting only last night.</p> +<p>He hoped in his heart that they would never meet +again; if they did, he realised that there would be quite +a few nasty things he would feel called upon to say to +him.</p> +<p>The waitress brought the bill at that moment and put +an end to further conversation, for which he was thankful. +He realised that he was getting rather out of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +depth. He breathed more freely when they were safely +out in the street.</p> +<p>“And where is the new boarding-house?” he asked +presently. He wanted to change the subject; every moment +he was afraid that he would say something to give +himself away. He supposed he had behaved like an impetuous +fool. He ought never to have posted that letter––ought +never to have opened Ashton’s; and yet––if he +had not done so.... He looked down at the girl +beside him, and wondered grimly how she would have +felt if he had allowed that callous farewell to reach her.</p> +<p>“It’s quite close to where we are now,” she told him. +“It’s rather more expensive than the last one, but it’s +well worth the extra money, and”––she glanced up at +him smilingly––“I’m better off to-day than I was yesterday,” +she explained. “And when I go back to work +again–––”</p> +<p>“Are you going back, then?” he asked quickly.</p> +<p>“Of course I am. I must do something, and they will +take me back at Eldred’s, I know–––”</p> +<p>“Eldred’s!” Micky frowned. “That’s the petticoat +shop, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>She laughed.</p> +<p>“Yes; how did you know?”</p> +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“I’ve seen the place lots of times. A girl I know buys +all her–––” He stopped. “Do you want to go back +there?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Not particularly, but it’s easier than looking for a +fresh place, and I know they will take me. I’m in the +workroom, and it’s not really such a hard life.”</p> +<p>Micky did some rapid thinking; it was surprising how +easily his brain had taken to hard work during the last +twenty-four hours.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you get a job as a companion to a nice old +lady or somebody?” he suggested vaguely.</p> +<p>She laughed again.</p> +<p>“It doesn’t sound a bit attractive,” she said frankly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +“I think you need an awful lot of patience. It’s very +kind of you to be interested, but I think I shall go back +to Eldred’s, for a time, at least.”</p> +<p>Micky did not like the idea at all, but he let the subject +drop.</p> +<p>“Are you going back to the Brixton Road?” he asked +after a moment.</p> +<p>“Oh no; I paid them before I left this afternoon, so +I shall go straight to the new place.”</p> +<p>“I should like to walk there with you, if I may,” said +Micky.</p> +<p>“Of course you may.”</p> +<p>“And when shall I see you again?” he asked. “You’re +not going to vanish for days, are you? I’ve got no end +of time to kill, and–––”</p> +<p>“But I haven’t,” she reminded him. “At least, I shan’t +have when I start work. But I should like to see you +again,” she added kindly.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Micky with faint sarcasm.</p> +<p>He felt vaguely disappointed with the whole afternoon. +She was holding him so decidedly at arm’s length. +He supposed it was that infernal fellow Ashton that +stood between them. There was a sort of irony, too, in +the fact that he himself had by his own action established +him more firmly than ever in this girl’s affections.</p> +<p>And the fellow was not worth a thought! That was +the rotten part of it. As he looked at her he felt strongly +tempted to blurt out the truth; to tell her that it was he +who wrote that letter––to undeceive her once and for all.</p> +<p>But the thing was manifestly impossible. She would +probably think it an abominable thing to have opened +Ashton’s letter; she would probably be furious if he let +her know that the money she had received had come from +him. Whichever way he turned he seemed to be in a +corner.</p> +<p>They had reached the new boarding-house now, and +Micky was relieved to see that it was a decided improvement +on the one in the Brixton Road.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div> +<p>The windows were not boxed up, and the steps and +the bell were clean. It was on the sunny side of the +road, too, and had an air of cheerfulness about it.</p> +<p>“It’s much better than the other one, isn’t it?” Esther +asked.</p> +<p>“Streets better,” he assured her. “I shouldn’t mind +living here myself....” He waited, but she made +no comment, and he felt rather snubbed.</p> +<p>There was a little silence.</p> +<p>“Don’t you like the place where you are living now?” +she asked after a moment. “Don’t they make you comfortable +there?”</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s comfortable enough,” said Micky. He wondered +if he looked as guilty as he felt. “But I don’t believe +in sticking on anywhere too long. A change is +good for every one. I shall be shifting out some day +soon, I expect.”</p> +<p>There was a little silence.</p> +<p>“I shall see you again soon,” he said. “And if there is +anything I can do for you–––”</p> +<p>“Thank you, but there isn’t.” She spoke quite kindly, +but Micky had the uncomfortable sort of feeling that +her thoughts were elsewhere. He waited a moment, +then held out his hand.</p> +<p>“Well, good-bye.”</p> +<p>“Good-bye, and thank you for my tea.”</p> +<p>She nodded and smiled and turned away from him.</p> +<p>There was nothing else for Micky to do but to go; +he raised his hat and walked off disconsolately.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV' id='CHAPTER_IV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +</div> +<p>When Esther went upstairs to her room in No. +11 Elphinstone Road, she found the door standing +open, and she could hear some one talking +inside.</p> +<p>She stood still for a moment in amazement; she +thought perhaps she had made a mistake and come to the +wrong room, but a glance reassured her; the number of +her room was 23, and this one was 23; she pushed the +door wider and went in.</p> +<p>Her boxes were there, standing one upon the other, so +as to make more space in the small room, and on the +rather shabby rug by the fireplace a woman was kneeling +with her back to the door.</p> +<p>She did not hear Esther enter, and for a moment the +girl stood staring at her in blank amazement. She could +not see her face, but she could see that the woman was +small and slightly built, with a wealth of jet black hair +coiled in becoming carelessness with a couple of yellow +pins to fasten it.</p> +<p>She wore a yellow blouse, which Esther would have +thought hideous on any one else, but somehow against +that dark coil of hair it looked decidedly picturesque.</p> +<p>Esther moved a little, deliberately knocking against a +chair to attract attention, and the girl on the hearthrug +looked round with a startled exclamation; then scrambled +to her feet.</p> +<p>“I heard there was a cat,” she explained. “Lydia told +me that he was shut up here alone, so I just had to come +in and see him. I hope you don’t mind. I brought him +some milk.”</p> +<p>For a moment Esther was too taken aback to answer. +She looked from the little woman in the yellow blouse to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +Charlie, sprawled on the rug and purring lustily, and then +back again to the little woman.</p> +<p>She was very attractive looking, that was Esther’s +first thought, and her next that she had never seen any +one with such a beautiful complexion.</p> +<p>“You’re Miss Shepstone, aren’t you?” her visitor queried +in the friendliest of tones. “You see, I know quite a +lot about you already. Lydia told me––Lydia’s the housemaid––you’ll +like her; she’s a really nice girl. My name +is June Mason––I live here, too, and I hope we will +be great friends.”</p> +<p>There was something so breezily disarming about her +that Esther held out her hand.</p> +<p>“You’re very kind. I hardly know what to say....”</p> +<p>“Don’t say anything,” Miss Mason answered airily. +“I’m going to like you; I knew I should somehow when +I first heard your name. I believe in that sort of thing––I +don’t know if you do, but as soon as Lydia told me +who it was that had taken this room I knew I should +like you. I think your name is sweet––Esther! So +quaint and old-world. Have you had your tea?––yes, oh, +what a shame! I’ve got some ready for you in my +room. Oh, I hope you don’t think it’s awful cheek,” she +broke out with a sort of embarrassment. “I’ve got a +sitting-room here as well as a bedroom, and I always +make my own tea, it’s better than you can get downstairs. +I’ve got a fire there too, and if you’re ever cold +I hope you’ll come and sit with me. I’m out a good +deal but you can always use my room when I’m not +there, if you care to. Take off your hat and come and +see it now, or are you too tired? I don’t want to worry +you.”</p> +<p>“I’m not a bit tired,” Esther said, laughing; she felt a +little bewildered by this sudden offer of friendship, but +June Mason interested her, and after a moment she took +off her hat obediently.</p> +<p>“We’ll bring the cat too,” Miss Mason said; she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +swooped down with a quick movement and caught the +cat up in her arms. “I love cats,” she said. “What’s +his name?”</p> +<p>“Charlie,” said Esther shyly. “He’s very thin, but they +weren’t kind to him where he belonged before....”</p> +<p>“What a shame! I simply loathe people who are not +kind to animals. Never mind, he’ll soon get all right. +Now come along––I’ll help you unpack your boxes presently.”</p> +<p>She led the way downstairs, and Esther followed.</p> +<p>She had been feeling a little scared of this new boarding-house. +She felt grateful for this girl’s unaffected overture.</p> +<p>“Mine’s the best room in the house,” Miss Mason informed +her. She pushed open the door of a room immediately +below Esther’s. “Sit down and make yourself +at home. I’ll get the tea in half a minute. I know you’ll +have another cup. I shall, anyway. Do you smoke?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Esther.</p> +<p>“Well I do. I hope you’re not shocked. I find it’s so +soothing when you’ve got nerves; and I’m a frightfully +nervy person. I am hardly ever still; I’m always on +the go.”</p> +<p>Esther could well believe it. She looked on with a +slightly dazed feeling while June Mason lit a cigarette +and bustled about the room.</p> +<p>It was a very comfortable room, with plenty of easy-chairs +and lots of cushions all in the same pale shade of +mauve.</p> +<p>“I didn’t think there would be any rooms as comfortable +as this in the house,” Esther said. “I suppose you +pay a great deal for it, though.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know about that. Most of the furniture is +mine and all the cushions. Do you like my cushions?”</p> +<p>She put down the teapot, which she had been about to +fill, and caught up one of the cushions, plumping its softness +together with her white hands.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></div> +<p>“Mauve is my lucky colour,” she rattled on. “Everything +I do in mauve turns out well. But perhaps you +don’t believe in a superstition like that?”</p> +<p>Esther was rather bewildered.</p> +<p>“I’m not sure. I never thought about it,” she said +hesitatingly. “But it’s a very pretty colour.”</p> +<p>Miss Mason dropped the cushion to the floor, and +stooping picked Charlie up and deposited him on it.</p> +<p>“Doesn’t he look sweet?” she demanded. “And a black +cat is lucky too, you know, so that’s a comfort.”</p> +<p>She went back to the teapot, made the tea, and poured +out a cup for Esther.</p> +<p>“Is that chair comfy?––yes, lean back! What are you +looking at? Oh, my photographs! Yes. I have got a +lot, haven’t I? Lydia dusts them for me! Lydia’s a +treasure! You’ll love her. When I get married she’s +going to leave here and come with me–––”</p> +<p>Esther looked interested.</p> +<p>“Are you going to be married?” she asked.</p> +<p>Miss Mason laughed.</p> +<p>“Am I? No, I’m not. I’m too fond of my independence. +Not that I don’t like men. I do like them, and +I’ve got some awfully good pals amongst them, too. +Look!”</p> +<p>She turned with one of her rapid movements, caught +up a photograph from the shelf and handed it to Esther.</p> +<p>“There! that’s one of the nicest men I ever met in my +life,” she said enthusiastically. “Don’t you think he’s got +a ripping face?”</p> +<p>Esther took the portrait laughingly––she thought June +Mason one of the most amusing people she had ever +met––then she caught her breath on a little smothered +exclamation as she found herself looking straight into +the pictured eyes of Micky Mellowes.</p> +<p>June Mason was too occupied with a fresh cigarette +to notice the blank look that filled Esther’s eyes.</p> +<p>She sat there in the big chair, staring at Micky’s portrait +with a sense of foreboding. Surely it was something +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +bigger than just chance that had introduced him +into her life for the second time.</p> +<p>“He’s one of the best,” June Mason went on. She +dragged forward another chair and plumped down into +it comfortably.</p> +<p>“Don’t you admire him?” She opened her eyes wide, +looking across at Esther.</p> +<p>“Yes, oh yes! I think he’s quite nice,” Esther said +stiltedly. “But not a bit good-looking, do you think?” +she asked, with a sort of hesitation.</p> +<p>Miss Mason took the portrait from her and held it +at arm’s length.</p> +<p>“Um!” she said critically. “Perhaps he isn’t, but I +like him so much, you see, that I’m not a fair judge. +He’s been a good friend to me, at all events.”</p> +<p>She got up, replaced the frame on the shelf, and +plumped back once more amongst her mauve cushions.</p> +<p>“My people wanted me to marry him at one time,” +she went on airily. “I might have done so only I liked +him too well. He didn’t care for me, except as a friend, +and it seemed a shame to spoil it, so I put my foot down.”</p> +<p>“You mean that you refused him?”</p> +<p>Esther was interested; she was remembering how +Micky had told her that he had never really cared for +any woman in all his life.</p> +<p>“He never asked me, my dear,” Miss Mason answered +candidly. “I let him see that it wouldn’t be any good if +he did, and I know he was frightfully relieved. We were +never so nearly in love with one another as we were +when we both knew that we didn’t mean to get married.” +She chuckled reminiscently. “It finished me with my +people, though,” she added, “so I cleared out and came +here.”</p> +<p>“And––Micky?” Esther asked. “I––I mean Mr. Mellowes....”</p> +<p>Miss Mason looked faintly surprised.</p> +<p>“How did you know his name?” she asked. “Did I +tell you? I suppose I did. Oh, he’s all right; he’s the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +kind of man who always will be all right. He’s got another +girl on the tapis now. I don’t know if it will come +to anything, though. Anyway, she’s not good enough for +him.”</p> +<p>“You seem very fond of him,” Esther said.</p> +<p>“I am. He’s a dear! I should love to see him happily +married to a girl with a heart of gold like his own. +I think I know him better than most people, and his +little corner of the world would be amazed if they knew +the amount of good Micky manages to do.”</p> +<p>She had flushed up with her own enthusiasm. Her +curious eyes (Esther could not decide if they were grey, +blue, or green, or a mixture of all three) were very +bright and expressive.</p> +<p>“I’ve heard lots of rotten things said about him,” she +went on, “and I know that none of them are really deserved––at +least most of them are not. He isn’t a saint––but +what man is, I should like to know? But Micky’s the +sort who would give his life for a friend or any one little +and weak. Do you know”––she flung away the half-smoked +cigarette and leaned forward with her elbows +on her knees––“last winter, down in the country, I saw +Micky go into a dirty pond in evening dress to rescue +a drowning cat. What do you think of that?”</p> +<p>“A––a––cat!” said Esther faintly. She looked at Charlie, +and remembered how Micky had paid for milk for +him the night of their strange meeting.</p> +<p>“A miserable drowning cat!” Miss Mason went on +with tragic emphasis. “He heard it mewing from the +road, and he went in after it without stopping to think. +Now, I call a man a hero who will do a thing like that +when he is on his way to a dance he is very keen about, +don’t you?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Esther. Her heart warmed towards Mellowes. +Kind as he had been to her, she had not been +quite sure of him; it made her feel happier to hear him +so warmly championed.</p> +<p>“You’ll be sick to death of my chatter,” June Mason +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +broke out with sudden change of voice. She helped herself +to a third cigarette. “I hope you don’t mind smoke,” +she apologised. “I’m always at it; I think I smoke dozens +a day–––”</p> +<p>“Or throw them away half smoked,” Esther thought +amusedly. “I don’t mind at all,” she answered.</p> +<p>“You haven’t told me a thing about yourself,” Miss +Mason reminded her reproachfully. “And it’s not fair +that I should do all the talking. I know your name, +and that’s about all. Have you got any people? Where +do you come from?”</p> +<p>Esther flushed a little.</p> +<p>“There isn’t much to tell you. I haven’t any people. I +was born in India, and my mother died there. I don’t +know anything about my father. I was sent home to an +aunt, and she looked after me till about three years ago, +when she died. I came to London then, and they took +me on at Eldred’s––do you know Eldred’s?”</p> +<p>“Do I not?” said Miss Mason fervently. “Scrumptious +things they make; but what prices! I can’t afford +them very often, but I go in there a good deal. I know +the manager, and he’s going to do some business for me––at +least I hope he is. If I can get my stuff into his +place it will be a splendid thing. All London shops +there, you know; all London with any money, that is!”</p> +<p>Esther looked mystified.</p> +<p>“Your stuff!” she echoed. “What do you mean?”</p> +<p>June Mason laughed merrily. She had a very infectious +laugh and a trick of covering her face with her +hands while she was laughing.</p> +<p>“I forgot that you didn’t know!” she said. “I seem +to know you so well, I can’t remember that we never +saw one another before to-day. My dear, I make face +cream. Wait a moment.”</p> +<p>She sprang up and disappeared behind a mauve curtain +into an adjoining room. Esther heard her moving +about, opening and shutting boxes and singing a snatch +of song all the time. Presently she came back with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +tray crowded with little pots and phials of all sizes and +descriptions. She plumped down on her knees beside +Esther’s chair.</p> +<p>“There you are!” she said lightly, though there was +an odd dash of pride in her voice. “Face cream, night +and day cream, eyelash tonic, and all the rest of it! Of +course, I’m only just starting––I’m not like those people +who advertise in all the papers and charge about a guinea +for a shilling jar; but my stuff is as good as theirs any +day, and better, because it’s pure. Look!” She took a +lid off a little white pot with a mauve label and held it +to Esther.</p> +<p>“Isn’t that a glorious perfume?” she demanded. She +sniffed it herself with relish. “And it’s all my invention, +and I’m as proud of it as a cat would be of nine +tails. When I’ve got things a little more ship-shape, +Micky’s going to put it on the market for me. It wants +a man behind all these sort of things you know. I can +do all the donkey work, but I’ve got no head for business. +I never know the difference between a loss and a profit. +It was partly over this that I quarrelled with my people––they +said it was low-down to make face cream and sell +it––they’re awful snobs! So I just cleared off and +changed my surname and came here. I’m quite happy, +and if I haven’t got as much money as I had, I don’t +mind––I’ve got my liberty, and that’s worth every thing.”</p> +<p>“I think you’re just wonderful,” Esther said. She +picked up a lid from one of the little pots and looked at +the mauve and white label.</p> +<p>“June Mason’s natural beautifier....”</p> +<p>She looked at the glowing face opposite to her.</p> +<p>“Do you use it for your own skin?” she asked shyly.</p> +<p>Miss Mason chuckled; she pushed the tray to one side +along the floor.</p> +<p>“I don’t mind telling you that I’ve never used cream +to my skin at all,” she said. “But people think I do, and +so there you are! Have some more tea?”</p> +<p>She refilled Esther’s cup and lit another cigarette. “So +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +that’s what I am,” she said. “And now go on, and tell +me about yourself. You said you were at Eldred’s!”</p> +<p>“Yes, I was there for two years. I rather liked it! +I love pretty things, and I was in the workroom. They +paid me quite well, too, though it was hard work, and +then––well, then I left–––” her voice changed subtly.</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>The query was only interested, and not at all impertinent.</p> +<p>Esther flushed.</p> +<p>“Well––well––I thought I was going to be married. +He––well, he asked me to leave to marry him, and so +I did....”</p> +<p>“But you’re not married?”</p> +<p>“No–––” Esther was looking away into the fire. “No, +I’m not married,” she said in a stifled voice. “He––my +fiancé––has had to go away on business––abroad, and I +don’t know when I shall see him again.”</p> +<p>Her voice sounded sad and dispirited.</p> +<p>“You poor little thing!” said June Mason. She leaned +over and laid her hand on Esther’s. “Never mind! The +time will soon pass, and then he’ll come back and you’ll +live happily ever after–––”</p> +<p>Esther smiled.</p> +<p>“I know. I keep on telling myself it’s foolish to worry. +I felt quite happy this morning. I had a letter from +him, and somehow when I read it things didn’t seem half +so bad; but–––”</p> +<p>“And you’ll have another to-morrow, I expect.” Miss +Mason insisted. “And another the next day, and one +every day while he’s away. There! That’s better,” she +added cheerily as Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“I don’t like to see you look so sad. I’m going to +cheer you up. I shan’t allow you to be miserable. And +anyway,” she added, with a sudden softening, “you’ve got +some one who loves you, and that’s worth everything else +in the world.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Esther. Her eyes shone and she thought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +of the letter which was even then lying against her heart. +Somehow she had never realised how much he really +cared for her till to-day.</p> +<p>“And what are you going to do till he comes home?” +Miss Mason asked interestedly. “If you had something +to do you’d find the time pass ever so much more +quickly.”</p> +<p>“It’s a question of having to do something rather than +how to pass the time,” Esther said. “I haven’t any money +except what I can make. My aunt left me a little when +she died, but it was only a very little, and I spent most +of it at first while I was looking for work. So I’m going +back to Eldred’s––if they will have me, and I think they +will.”</p> +<p>Miss Mason said “Humph!”</p> +<p>“I think you’re too good for a petticoat shop,” she +said bluntly. “You’re wasted there! Nobody sees you, and +you’re so pretty–––”</p> +<p>“Oh, what nonsense!” Esther exclaimed. She laughed +in sheer amusement. To her it seemed absurd for this +girl to call her pretty; she considered June Mason such +a personality––so attractive!</p> +<p>She really did make a picturesque figure as she sat +there with her mauve cushions all around her. Her +yellow blouse and dark hair and wonderful rose-leaf +skin reminded one of some brilliant portrait painted by +a master-hand.</p> +<p>Esther would have been surprised could she have +known the thought in June’s mind at that moment.</p> +<p>“She’s just sweet! I don’t know when I’ve seen a face +I admire more. Micky would adore her! She’s just the +sort of woman he always raves about. I must ask him to +tea to meet her one day.”</p> +<p>“There are heaps of other berths going besides Eldred’s, +you know,” she said earnestly. “However, you +must do as you like, of course.” She threw away another +unfinished cigarette. “Do you think we are going to be +friends?” she asked.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></div> +<p>“I am sure we are,” Esther said. She really did think +so; she had never met any one in the least like June +Mason before. She began to feel glad that she had come +to this house. It was much more expensive than the +Brixton Road, certainly, but it was well worth it, even if +only because she had met this quaint little woman.</p> +<p>It was nearly seven o’clock before she thought of going +back to her own room, and then it was only the chiming +of a clock on the shelf that roused her.</p> +<p>“Nearly seven!” She started up in dismay. “I had +no idea it was so late. I am sorry for having stayed so +long.”</p> +<p>“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” June declared. “You +may go shares with this room if you like. I’m out so +much, it isn’t used half the time. Think it over, will you?”</p> +<p>Esther flushed nervously.</p> +<p>“It’s awfully kind of you; I should love to, but I +couldn’t afford it. I’m really paying more money now +than I ought to. I want to save, too–––”</p> +<p>Miss Mason laughed.</p> +<p>“For the wedding! Lucky girl! I hope you’ll ask me +to come and see you married––and I hope he’s very nice,” +she added.</p> +<p>“He is,” said Esther eagerly. “And he’s very handsome,” +she added shyly.</p> +<p>But Miss Mason was not impressed.</p> +<p>“I don’t care a fig if a man is handsome or not,” she +said bluntly. “If he’s just manly and straightforward and +kind, that’s all I expect him to be. Now look here––we +have dinner at half-past seven in this establishment. It’s +only supper really, but we all put on our best blouses––if +we’ve got any––and call it dinner. I’ll call for you on the +way down and we’ll go in together. I’ll tell Mrs. Elders +you are going to share my table, if you like; it’s deadly +dull sitting alone.”</p> +<p>“I should like to sit with you very much,” Esther said +eagerly. “But I really haven’t got a ‘best’ blouse.” She +glanced down at the plain white silk shirt she wore; it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +had been washed many times, and had lost its first freshness.</p> +<p>“Come down as you are, then,” Miss Mason urged, +“and I will too! I hate changing. This yellow rag is good +enough for the old tabbies we get here.”</p> +<p>Esther went half-way down the stairs and came back.</p> +<p>“Charlie––I’ve forgotten Charlie.”</p> +<p>“Charlie can stay where he is till bedtime,” June declared. +“You can come up and fetch him then. Hurry, +or you’ll be late.”</p> +<p>Esther went down to her room, feeling more light-hearted +than she had done for a long time.</p> +<p>As she unpacked her boxes and tidied her hair she +could hear June Mason moving about upstairs, singing +cheerily.</p> +<p>“I’m going to like her––I’m going to like her awfully,” +she told herself. She hurried to be ready in time, but the +rather unmelodious dinner-bell had clanged through the +house twice before June came to the door.</p> +<p>“You’ve unpacked, then?” she said. She looked round +the small room approvingly. “I can see you’re one of the +tidy ones,” she said. “I’m not; I wish I were. However, +we can’t all be the same. Are you ready?”</p> +<p>She took Esther’s arm and they went downstairs together.</p> +<p>“Every one knows you’re coming,” June said as they +neared the dining-room. “Every one always knows everything +that goes on here. Don’t take any notice if they +stare a lot; they must stare at something, poor darlings. +I’ll tell you who they all are and all about them.”</p> +<p>The dining-room was a long, narrow sort of room that +looked as if it once had been two rooms recently thrown +into one; the floor was covered with slippery green linoleum, +and there was a long table running almost the +length of the room, with a few smaller ones on either +side.</p> +<p>A grey-haired woman with pebble glasses stood at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +head of the long table; Esther recognised her as the +proprietress, Mrs. Elders.</p> +<p>She said good-evening to Esther and stared frigidly at +June, as if she did not like to see the two girls together. +She did not approve of the little face cream lady, though +she was careful never to say so, as June was one of her +best paying propositions.</p> +<p>Esther was glad when they reached their own table; +glad, too, that she was more or less out of the way of +curious glances.</p> +<p>The dinner was plain, but infinitely superior to the fare +she had had to put up with in the Brixton Road.</p> +<p>“Do you have all your meals here?” she asked June +presently.</p> +<p>“No––only breakfast and supper––and not always supper. +I go out with friends sometimes. Every one hasn’t +given me up just because my family have. But the food +is quite good here. They’re rather too fond of rice and +stewed apples; but it might be worse. Turn round presently +and look at the man behind you with the grey hair. +Isn’t he handsome? We call him the colonel, though I +don’t believe he’s a colonel at all. He’s a dear, but he +always complains about everything. I know he gives notice +regularly on Saturday morning and takes it back +again on Saturday night. Mrs. Elders would think he +wasn’t well if he missed giving her notice.”</p> +<p>She laughed, and turning in her chair spoke to a young +man who was sitting alone at one of the smaller tables +behind her.</p> +<p>“Is your cough better?” she asked. “I’m going to give +you some special stuff to-night for it. No, it isn’t at all +nasty.” She turned back to Esther. “May I introduce +Mr. Harley––he’s the most interesting person in the +whole house. He writes stories and things, Mr. Harley, +this is Miss Shepstone––a great friend of mine.”</p> +<p>Harley bowed. He was pale, delicate-looking young +man with fine dark eyes.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></div> +<p>“You never told me that you knew Miss Shepstone,” he +said to June.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know her till this afternoon,” she answered +promptly; “but I make friends quickly, as you know.”</p> +<p>“You’ll like Harley,” she told Esther presently in an +undertone. “He’s very clever, but so delicate, poor boy! +He ought to live in the country instead of in London. +He’s the sort of person I should love to help if I were +rich.”</p> +<p>“It must be wonderful to be rich,” Esther said. There +was a little flush in her cheeks; she was really enjoying +herself. “It’s the dream of my life to have enough money +to be able to do anything I like,” she added earnestly. +“Just for a month! If I could be really rich just for one +month I wouldn’t mind going back to being poor again.”</p> +<p>Miss Mason said “Rubbish!” briskly. “Money can’t +buy happiness, my dear, and don’t you forget it. My +people think it can, and lots of other people think the +same. It only shows what fools they are. It was the +money my people couldn’t get over when I declined to +marry Micky Mellowes....” She made a little wry +face. “I remember my mother coming into my room one +night in her dressing-gown––poor soul!––when she heard +I’d told Micky there was nothing doing, and saying tragically: +‘June, you must be mad––stark, staring mad! Why, +the man’s as rich as Crœsus!’”</p> +<p>“Rich!” Esther was conscious of an odd little sinking +at her heart. “Is Mr. Mellowes rich, then?” she asked +constrainedly.</p> +<p>Miss Mason was helping herself to a pat of butter. +She held it poised for a moment on the end of her knife +while she answered––</p> +<p>“Rich? I should think he is! He’s one of the richest +men in London.”</p> +<p>“One of the richest men in London!––but he–––” Esther +had been going to add “But he told me that he was +poor;” she only just checked the words in time.</p> +<p>June nodded.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span></div> +<p>“He’s the despair of all the match-making mammas,” +she said lightly. “Over thirty, he is, and still a bachelor! +I’m not sure if he isn’t on the verge of being caught +now, but you never can tell! With a little luck he may +escape––she isn’t good enough for him, anyway. Have +you finished? I’m dying for a cigarette, and we aren’t +allowed to smoke here. Come up to my room and I’ll +make you some coffee; the stuff they give us here isn’t +fit to drink.”</p> +<p>She pushed back her chair and rose, and Esther followed.</p> +<p>She kept her eyes down as she walked the length of +the room; the colour rose in her cheeks as she realised +how every one was staring at her. The colonel, whom +June had declared was not a colonel at all, rose and held +the door open for them to pass out.</p> +<p>June chuckled as they went upstairs.</p> +<p>“You’ve made an impression, my dear! It isn’t often +he does that for any one.” She slipped an arm through +Esther’s. “Why are you frowning so? Have I said anything +to annoy you?”</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“Of course not. I was only thinking.... Do +you––do your friends ever come here to see you?”</p> +<p>She was thinking of Micky Mellowes, and wondering +if he ever came to the boarding-house, and if so, why he +had not told her that he knew somebody living here. +After all, if he had deceived her in one instance he would +do so in many others––she felt a curious sense of hurt +pride; why had he gone out of his way to tell her he was +a poor man, when all the time–––?</p> +<p>“To tell you the truth,” June said frankly, “none of my +friends know where I am living. Call it false pride if +you like, but there you are. I have all my letters, except +business ones, sent to my club––I belong to an unpretentious +club––I’ll take you there some day––and not even +Micky knows that I live here. You see, when I flew +in the face of providence, otherwise my noble family, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +they stopped my allowance, so as I’m entirely self-supporting, +I had to be careful and live inexpensively, so I +came here. And I’m very comfortable. If I want to +meet any of my friends we meet out somewhere. I think +it’s better; it leaves me quite free....”</p> +<p>They were back in her room again now, and Charlie +had looked up with one eye from his mauve cushion, and +purred, by way of a greeting.</p> +<p>June lit a cigarette and rushed about in pursuit of +the coffee-pot. All her movements were quick. She +seemed to breathe life and energy.</p> +<p>Esther walked over to the fireplace, and found herself +looking at Micky’s photograph.</p> +<p>After all, he was just like all the other men she had +ever known; apparently none of them could be simple +and sincere; she supposed it had been his way of condescending +to her, to pretend that he was poor and in +similar circumstances to herself; perhaps he had guessed +that she would never have allowed him to pay for her +supper or tea, or have talked to her as he had done, if she +had known him to be a rich man.</p> +<p>She need never see him again, that was one thing; her +heart hardened as she met the frankness of his pictured +eyes; he was not as honest as he looked.</p> +<p>She had mistaken condescension for kindness. She +bit her lip with mortification as she recalled the confidence +she had made to him only that afternoon. He was probably +laughing at it now, and no doubt would repeat all +she had said to his friends as a good joke.</p> +<p>She went to her own room as soon as she had had the +coffee. She made the excuse that she was tired, but +when she went upstairs she sat down on the side of the +bed and made no effort to undress. A sort of shadow +seemed to have fallen on her spirits. She felt mortified +that Micky should so deliberately have lied to her; her +cheeks burned as she thought of the despair she had +been in last night when she met him. She hoped she +would never see him again.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span></div> +<p>She looked round the little room with angry eyes. If +only Fate had set her feet in sunnier paths. She looked +at the plain furniture and cheap carpet; the wallpaper +was hideous; there was a frightful oleograph of two +Early Victorian women with crinolines and ringlet curls +hanging over the mantlepiece. They both looked smug +and self-satisfied. There was an enlarged photograph of +a bald-headed man wearing a Masonic apron on another +wall. He was fat and had his right hand plastered carefully +along a chair-back to bring into prominence a large +signet ring. Esther looked at him and shivered. She felt +utterly alone and cut off from the world. She longed for +Raymond Ashton with all her soul. She hated Micky +Mellowes because his kindly condescension had made her +feel her position more acutely now she knew him to be +what he was.</p> +<p>In spite of the new friend she had made in June Mason +she felt lonely and unwanted; she began to cry like a +child, as she sat there on the side of the iron bedstead; +the tears ran down her cheeks and she made no effort to +wipe them away.</p> +<p>She wanted to be happy so badly, and it seemed as if +she never was to be happy. The elation that had come to +her when she read Micky’s letter that morning had faded +miserably; after all, what was a letter when it was a real, +living personality she wanted, and not mere words?</p> +<p>Downstairs she could hear June Mason moving about +and singing; she at least was happy with her little mauve +pots and her cheery optimism.</p> +<p>Esther cried all the time she undressed; she crept into +bed sobbing miserably, like a child who sleeps at a boarding-school +for the first time.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V' id='CHAPTER_V'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky passed three days before he made any attempt +to see Esther Shepstone again; days that +seemed like a month at least, and during which +he lost his appetite and forgot to smoke.</p> +<p>That she did not particularly care if she saw him again +or not, he was miserably sure. She had no thoughts for +any one but Ashton. He felt as if he could not settle +to anything. On the third morning Marie Deland rang +him up. He had told her many times that her voice on +the telephone cheered him, but to-day it made him frown.</p> +<p>He tried to answer her cheery “That you, Micky?” as +cheerily, but he knew it was a failure.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” she asked quickly. “Aren’t you +well? Or are you cross?”</p> +<p>There was a hint of laughter in her voice. She had +never known Micky cross; he was always the cheeriest of +mortals.</p> +<p>Micky grabbed at the excuse she offered him.</p> +<p>“I’ve got a brute of a headache,” he said.</p> +<p>“Poor old boy!” The pretty, sympathetic voice irritated +him. “Come out for a walk; it will do you good.”</p> +<p>“Thanks––thanks awfully, but I don’t think it would. +I’m a perfect bear––you’d hate me. Some other time.”</p> +<p>There was a little pause. Micky could have kicked +himself as he remembered on what terms they had parted. +It was not her fault that a miracle had happened since +then to metamorphose the whole world. He supposed uncomfortably +that she was just the same as she had been +when he last saw her. He knew she must be wondering +why he had stayed away so long. He tried to soften his +words.</p> +<p>“I’ll look in to-night, if I may. Sorry to be such a +bear.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span></div> +<p>She answered rather dispiritedly that it was all right, +that she was sorry he felt ill. It was a relief when she +rang off. He took his hat and went off to call on Esther.</p> +<p>He felt that he could settle to nothing till he had seen +her again; there was a curious jealousy in his heart about +Ashton; he would have given anything he possessed to be +able to disillusion her, but knew it was impossible without +hopelessly compromising himself.</p> +<p>It was a bitter disappointment to find that she was out +when he reached the boarding-house; his face fell absurdly +when he turned and walked away.</p> +<p>He wondered if she really was out, or only out to +him.</p> +<p>After a moment he laughed at himself. A few days +ago he had not known there was such a person as Esther +Shepstone in the world, and yet now here he was, consumed +with jealousy because she was not in when he +called.</p> +<p>He took a taxicab back to the West End; he walked +about for half an hour staring aimlessly into shop windows, +then went back to his rooms. He could not understand +his extraordinary restlessness; he had only once +before felt anything like it in all his life, and that had +been the first time he ever backed a horse, and was waiting +a wire from the course to say if the brute had won.</p> +<p>He recalled the fever of impatience that had consumed +him then, and laughed; after all, it had been nothing +compared with this.</p> +<p>Driver came into the room.</p> +<p>“If you please, sir, Miss Mason has been on the ’phone. +She said would I ask you to meet her for tea.”</p> +<p>Micky did not look enthusiastic; he liked June awfully, +but to-day every one and everything seemed a bore.</p> +<p>“Tea! Where?” he asked vaguely.</p> +<p>“Miss Mason said that you would know, sir; the same +place as usual.”</p> +<p>“Oh, all right!”</p> +<p>Micky looked at the clock and sighed. After all, June +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +was always amusing; he went off almost cheerfully to the +unpretentious club of which she had spoken to Esther. +He had to wait in the lobby while a boy in buttons fetched +June to him. She came downstairs looking very much +at home, and smoking the inevitable cigarette. It was +one of June Mason’s charms that she always managed to +look at home wherever she was.</p> +<p>She had taken off her coat, but she wore a green hat +with a gold ornament that suited her to perfection, set +on her dark head at rakish angle.</p> +<p>“I began to think you were not coming,” she said.</p> +<p>She gave him her left hand, and Micky squeezed it in +friendly fashion. They went upstairs together to a small +tea-room, which was just now deserted save for two +waitresses who were giggling together over a newspaper.</p> +<p>June walked over to a table in the window, and Micky +followed.</p> +<p>He had been here with her scores of times before, and +the two waitresses smiled at one another knowingly; they +were quite sure that this was romance.</p> +<p>Micky was sitting with an elbow on the table, absently +smoothing the back of his head; he was wishing it was +Esther sitting opposite to him; he looked up with a little +start when June spoke to him.</p> +<p>“What’s up, Micky? I’ve never seen you looking so +depressed.”</p> +<p>He roused himself with an effort.</p> +<p>“Oh, nothing, nothing! It’s the beastly weather, I +expect.”</p> +<p>She looked at him quizzically with her queer eyes.</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t have thought the weather would depress +you,” she said. “However, if you say it does–––”</p> +<p>He shook himself together.</p> +<p>“I’m not depressed any longer,” he declared. “Well, +and how are you? And how is the swindle?” It was +Micky’s pet joke to call June’s invention the “swindle,” +though in his heart he was almost as proud of it as she +was.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span></div> +<p>She laughed.</p> +<p>“It’s very well, thank you; but that isn’t what I want +to talk to you about to-day. Micky, would you like to +come to tea with me one afternoon?”</p> +<p>Micky stared.</p> +<p>“Tea! Haven’t I come to tea with you to-day?”</p> +<p>“Silly! I don’t mean here; I mean where I live. It’s +a boarding-house. I dare say you’ll hate it, but it’s really +quite a nice place, and beggars can’t be choosers, anyway. +I’ve got a very comfortable sitting-room and most +of my own furniture, and I can give you a good cup of +tea, or anything else, if you prefer it.”</p> +<p>“I shall be delighted,” Micky looked puzzled. “But isn’t +this rather a breaking of rules? It’s not so very long +ago that you made me swear never to try and find out +where you lived. I thought it was all to be a deadly +secret.”</p> +<p>“So it was, but I’ve decided to admit you. I know +you’re safe, and, Micky, wouldn’t you like to meet the +dearest, prettiest, most attractive little girl....”</p> +<p>Micky moved his chair back in mock alarm.</p> +<p>“June! You’re not turning match-maker! If you are, +I give you fair warning that our friendship will have +to end once and for ever. I’ll put up with a lot from you, +but not this––not....”</p> +<p>“Don’t be an idiot!” said June calmly. “There isn’t +the slightest fear! And anyway–––” she added, with a +half sigh, “she’s engaged, so it wouldn’t be any good. But +I want you to help her.... Oh, I know I’m always +bringing you foundlings to help and look after, but you’ve +got such a big heart––and such a big banking account,” +she added audaciously.</p> +<p>“Well, go on–––” he said resignedly. “Who is the +foundling this time, and what am I to do?”</p> +<p>Micky laughed.</p> +<p>“She’s a darling,” June said warmly. “I’ve only +known her for four days––she lives in the same house. I +took a fancy to her from the first moment I saw her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +No, it was before that––it was when I first heard her +name....”</p> +<p>Micky raised his brows.</p> +<p>“What a creature of impulse! My dear, you’ll burn +your fingers badly some day.”</p> +<p>“And when I do,” said Miss Mason sharply, “I shan’t +come crying to you for sympathy; however ... Well, +she’s poor! she’s one of those horribly poor, frightfully +proud people whom it’s impossible to help. I’ve tried all +ways! I asked her to go shares with my sitting-room, +and she said she couldn’t afford it; she’ll hardly let me +give her a cup of tea or coffee for fear I should think +she is sponging on me. She seems most frightfully alone +in the world. She says she engaged to a man, but he’s +abroad, and I’m sure he’s not nice, anyway. He’s only +written to her once since I’ve known her, at all events, +and this morning when there wasn’t a letter, I know she +went back to her room and cried. I knocked at the +door, but she wouldn’t let me in.”</p> +<p>She paused, and looked at Micky for sympathy.</p> +<p>He half smiled; he knew how enthusiastic June always +was about everything.</p> +<p>“Well, and what do you want me to do for this damsel +in distress?” he asked gently.</p> +<p>“I want you to get her a berth somewhere,” he was +told promptly. “No, it’s no use saying you can’t! My +dear man, you must know scores of people who’d take her +in. She thought she was fixed up all right, but now it +appears that the people she was with before haven’t got +a vacancy for her, and so that’s knocked on the head. +She told me that she’s have to just take the first thing that +came along. I don’t believe she’s hardly got a shilling to +her name. I offered to take her into partnership with +me. I said we’d go travelling together for my beauty +cream, but she wouldn’t hear of it.... She’s so +proud!”––and here a sound of tears crept into June Mason’s +voice. “I ask you, Micky, what can be done with +any one like that?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span></div> +<p>Micky shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“If she’ll take anything that comes along, she ought to +get a job pretty soon,” he said laconically. “I’ll speak to +a man I know––can she write a decent hand and all that +sort of thing?”</p> +<p>“Of course she can! But I want a good berth, mind +you! I’ve never been so fond of anybody as I am of her. +She’s awfully worried about this horrid man she’s engaged +to. She doesn’t say much about him, but this morning +she said that there didn’t seem to be anything to live +for, and her eyes looked so sad....”</p> +<p>Micky smiled at her serious face.</p> +<p>“You’d make an eloquent appeal in a court of law,” he +said. He took a pencil from his pocket and an envelope. +“Give me her name and address, and I’ll see what I can +do. I don’t promise anything, mind you, but I’ll do what +I can....”</p> +<p>“You’re a dear,” said June warmly. “I know you were +the one to come to. I’m quite sure when you’ve seen +Esther you’ll ... why, what’s the matter, Micky?”</p> +<p>Micky had looked up sharply. His face had paled a +little.</p> +<p>“What name did you say?” he asked. He never knew +how he managed to control his voice. His heart seemed +to be thumping in his throat. “What name did you say?” +he asked again, with an effort. “I did not catch it–––”</p> +<p>“It’s Esther,” said June, “Esther Shepstone.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI' id='CHAPTER_VI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky’s pencil jerked suddenly, sending an aimless +scrawl across the paper; for an instant he +stared at his companion with blank eyes. Fortunately +June Mason was too intent on the relighting of her +cigarette to have any attention to spare for him; she went +on talking as she puffed.</p> +<p>“Yes....”––puff––“that’s her name....” Another +puff. “Isn’t it a change from your eternal Violets +and Dorothys?”... Puff, puff. “Oh, bother!” She +threw the cigarette into an empty grate behind her and +prepared to give Micky her undivided attention once +more. “Well, what do you think about it? You haven’t +written her name down. Esther Shepstone, I said.... +Write it down,” she commanded.</p> +<p>Micky obeyed at once. He was beginning to recover +himself a little.</p> +<p>“I shall be able to help her all right,” he said quickly. +“Only, of course, you won’t let her know I’m mixed up in +it at all; she’d hate it if she knew, she....”</p> +<p>“How do you know she would?” June demanded with +suspicion.</p> +<p>Micky met her eyes squarely.</p> +<p>“Well, you said she was proud or something, didn’t +you? And anyway I don’t want to pose as a blessed philanthropist; +I’m not one either, but I’ll see what I can do +for––for this new friend of yours. You say she’s poor?”</p> +<p>“Horribly poor, I’m afraid,” said June with a sigh. +“Micky, it’s rather pathetic––somebody sent her some +money––not very much, but still, it was money she evidently +didn’t expect. I’ve got a sort of idea that it was +from this man she’s supposed to be engaged to–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span></div> +<p>“Why do you say ‘supposed’––she is engaged to him, +isn’t she?”</p> +<p>June shrugged her shoulders.</p> +<p>“She says so, and she wears a ring, but I’ve a sort of +instinctive feeling that there’s something funny behind it. +Anyway, I know she’s not happy; but don’t interrupt. +About this money––well, it was partly my fault! I persuaded +her to go and buy herself some clothes––she had +such a few things, poor child! And I even went with her +and she bought a frock and a new coat....”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Micky eagerly; he was glad she had bought +a new coat; he remembered how thin hers had been on +that memorable night, and how she had shivered in the +cold night air.</p> +<p>“She was as pleased as a child with a new toy,” Miss +Mason went on. “She brought them all up to my room +to show me when they came home, and we both tried +them on ... and you’ve no idea how sweet she +looked,” she added with enthusiasm. “Of course, I suppose +this is boring you horribly,” she said deprecatingly.</p> +<p>“No,” said Micky honestly. “It’s not boring me at all, +I promise you.”</p> +<p>“Well, anyway, she got the clothes, and now the place +where she was before say they can’t take her back––it’s +Eldred’s, the petticoat shop. I don’t suppose you know +it, but–––”</p> +<p>“I know it very well,” said Micky.</p> +<p>“Oh, do you?” She laughed. “Well, they either won’t +or can’t take her back, and now she feels that she ought +not to have spent the money on the new frock and coat, +and this morning she told me that she was afraid she +would have to leave Elphinstone Road, as it was more +than she could afford.” June’s eyes flashed. “Micky, +what can one do with people who are poor and proud? +It’s a most difficult combination to fight. I blundered in +and offended her by offering to lend her some money, +and, of course, she wouldn’t hear of it, and there you +are!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span></div> +<p>She sighed, and leaned back in her chair despondently.</p> +<p>“Have a cake,” said Micky absently; he pushed the +plate across to her. “The ones with the white sugar are +nice.”</p> +<p>Miss Mason ignored him.</p> +<p>“If that’s all the interest you take–––” she said offendedly.</p> +<p>Micky started.</p> +<p>“My dear girl, I’m full of interest––chock full to the +brim! But we came here for tea, so we may as well eat +something while I try to think of a plan.” He wrinkled +his forehead. “Of course,” he ejaculated, “that chap––what +did you say his name was?”</p> +<p>“What chap? Oh, the fiancé! I don’t know; she +hasn’t even let me see his photograph yet; but she says +he writes dreams of letters. I haven’t seen them either, +of course.”</p> +<p>“He may send her some more money. After all, you +say it’s only four days since she heard from him. That’s +not very long; men are always rotten letter writers.”</p> +<p>Miss Mason looked wise.</p> +<p>“Four days is a long time when you’re in love,” she +said. “If you were engaged to Esther Shepstone I’ll bet +you’d write to her every day. You’re just the kind. Oh, +I know what you’re going to say––that you’re cut out +for a bachelor, and rubbish like that, but you wait and +see, Micky––it’s never too late.”</p> +<p>“I’ve never written a love-letter in my life,” Micky declared +indignantly. “And, anyway–––”</p> +<p>June leaned across the table and looked at him with +accusing eyes.</p> +<p>“Never? On your word of honour, Micky?”</p> +<p>Micky laughed and coloured.</p> +<p>“Well, perhaps––once!” he admitted. “But that’s beside +the point, isn’t it?... I’ll think things over and +write to you.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but soon, Micky, soon! It’s not a case where +you can sit down with your feet on the mantelpiece and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +give yourself a week to turn things over in your mind. +I want to know at once, to-morrow––to-night, if possible. +I know what Esther is––she’ll be gone before I can turn +round, and I should hate her to go. I haven’t got many +friends, and I do feel that she and I are going to be real +friends––great friends ... I don’t know when I’ve +taken such a fancy to anybody–––”</p> +<p>“You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say +that,” said Micky. His eyes were shining. Then he +realised that he had displayed rather unnecessary warmth +and hastened to amend his words. “I always said that +what you wanted was a real woman friend,” he added +more quietly.</p> +<p>June was drawing on her gloves; she had very white +hands and beautifully-kept finger-nails, and she was very +proud of them.</p> +<p>“Never mind me,” she said briskly. “You bustle about +and find a post for Esther, and I’ll love you for ever. +Are we ready?”</p> +<p>She rose and gathered up her various belongings. +Micky declared that she was always laden with small, +oddly-shaped parcels.</p> +<p>“Samples, my dear man, samples!” she said briskly +when Micky asked if he might not be allowed to carry +some. “And they’re much too precious to risk you dropping +any.”</p> +<p>“There’s just one stipulation,” Micky said as he followed +her downstairs again. “You’re not to tell Miss +Shepstone anything about me––I’m going to be very strict +on this subject. Will you promise?”</p> +<p>“Bless your heart, yes––and if you come to tea one +day–––”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t think I’ll come to tea,” Micky said hastily. +“I should only feel rotten––self-conscious and all the rest +of it, even if I was quite sure she didn’t know anything––not +that there’s anything to know yet,” he added quickly. +“I may not be able to help her.”</p> +<p>Miss Mason laughed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></div> +<p>“Oh, you’ll help her right enough,” she said breezily. +“I know you.”</p> +<p>She dismissed him when they reached the street. “No, +I don’t want you to come with me; I’ve got some business +to see to and you’d only be a nuisance.” She gave his +hand a squeeze. “Good-bye, and thanks ever so much +Micky. You’ll write to me––or wire?”</p> +<p>“As soon as there is anything to report.”</p> +<p>He raised his hat and turned away, and June dived +across the road, perilously near to a motor-omnibus, +clutching her samples jealously to her heart.</p> +<p>“It’ll be all right now,” she told herself, with a sense +of comfort. “Everything’s always all right as soon as +Micky gets hold of it.”</p> +<p>A soliloquy which made it seem all the more curious +that she should have hesitated to trust herself to him for +life. Perhaps, as she had told Esther, she cared too much +for him to take the risk for them both. He had told her +candidly that he did not care for her as a man should +care for the woman he marries.</p> +<p>“And he makes a ripping friend! Ripping!” she told +herself as she scurried along to interview another beauty +specialist about the “swindle,” as Micky politely called it.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII' id='CHAPTER_VII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky went straight home when he left June. +What he had heard about Esther had disturbed +him very much. He loathed to think that she +was unhappy.</p> +<p>The question was, how best to help her, and quickly. +He was thankful she had made a friend of June. June +was one of the best, the loyalest pal a man could ever +have.</p> +<p>But, as June had said, Esther was too proud to take +help unless it was most tactfully offered. He racked his +brains in vain. It was a sickening thought that, with all +his wealth, he could give her nothing. Even the few +paltry pounds she had unconsciously taken from him +would have been indignantly rejected had she known who +was the donor.</p> +<p>With sudden impulse he sat down and wrote to her. +After all, she had accepted his friendship; there was no +reason on earth why he should not write and ask to be +allowed to see her again. He wrote most carefully lest +she should discover some likeness to the letter he had +written to replace Ashton’s.</p> +<p>Might he take her out to dinner one night? Any night +would suit him. And did she like theatres? He had a +friend who sometimes gave him a couple of seats for a +show. He would arrange for any night she liked to +mention.</p> +<p>He thought that was a neat stroke of diplomacy––of +course, she would not think he could afford to buy seats, +and anyway it was true that he had a friend who often +gave him boxes and things––he would have to be careful +that Phillips did not send along a box this time though.</p> +<p>He ended up by hoping formally that she and Charlie +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +were quite well and comfortably settled into their new +home, and he signed himself: “Yours very sincerely, +Micky Mellowes.”</p> +<p>When he had finished the letter, he realised that he had +written it on his own heavily embossed writing paper, so +he had to dig Driver up and borrow a cheap sheet of unstamped +grey paper and write it all out again. Then he went out and +posted it himself.</p> +<p>As soon as it had gone he wished he had sent it by +hand; it meant such a deuce of a time to wait for a reply; +he calculated that he could not possibly hear before to-morrow +night.</p> +<p>But in this he was pleasantly disappointed, for his own +letter reached the boarding-house in Elphinstone Road +that night, and Esther’s reply was waiting for him with +the kidney and bacon in the morning.</p> +<p>Micky’s heart began to thump when he saw the letter +beside his plate; he had never seen Esther’s handwriting, +but he knew by instinct that it was hers. He scanned the +first lines eagerly, and his face fell.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Dear Mr. Mellowes</span>,––Thank you for your letter. I am sorry, +but I cannot come out with you, either to dinner or to a theatre.––</p> +<p class='ralign'>Yours very truly, <span class='smcap'>Esther Shepstone</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Micky’s face was pathetic in its disappointment. He +read the few curt lines through again and again, vainly +trying to find something more behind the unmistakable +refusal, but there it was in all its bald decision.</p> +<p>She did not want to go out with him any more; she +did not care if she saw him again or not.</p> +<p>Micky left his breakfast, he no longer had any appetite. +He had never had such a snub in all his life––out +of his disappointment anger was rising steadily; she had +no right to snub him like that without a reason.</p> +<p>Driver, coming into the room at that moment, saw the +untouched breakfast and halted midway between door +and table to stare at his master.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></div> +<p>Micky stood with his hands deep thrust into his pockets, +glowering into the fire. Driver advanced a step.</p> +<p>“Beg pardon, sir––but wasn’t you well?” he asked stoically.</p> +<p>Micky began to swear, then his mood changed and he +laughed.</p> +<p>“Yes, I’m all right–––” He hesitated. “Driver, would +you like to go to Paris?”</p> +<p>Driver raised wooden eyes.</p> +<p>“Anywhere you wish, sir,” he answered, in his usual +expressionless voice. “When were you thinking of starting, +sir?”</p> +<p>“I’m not thinking of starting at all,” said Micky. “I +want you to go––alone! You’ve been often enough now +not to get lost. Do you think you can manage it?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, if you think you can manage without me +here.”</p> +<p>There was the faintest touch of amazement in the man’s +even voice; he knew how helpless Micky was, or pretended +to be––knew how he hated being left to do for +himself.</p> +<p>But Micky only laughed.</p> +<p>“Oh, I can manage all right. I shall probably go away +somewhere myself for a few days. Besides, you won’t +be gone long–––” He paused.</p> +<p>“No, sir,” said Driver.</p> +<p>Micky was leaning against the mantelshelf; his eyes +were all crinkled up into a laugh as if he had heard some +excellent joke which he was about to repeat.</p> +<p>“No, you won’t be gone long,” he said again. “A +couple of days, I should think. You can put up at the +hotel we stayed at last time; they’ll look after you, and +the manager speaks English.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir–––” Driver hesitated. “And––what were +you wanting me to do when I get there, sir?” he asked, +after a moment.</p> +<p>Micky clung to his joke for an instant longer, then +suddenly he let it go.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></div> +<p>“I want you to post a letter for me,” he said.</p> +<p>Driver was too well trained to show amazement at +Micky’s instructions, but just for a fractional second he +forgot to answer with his usual “Yes, sir,” and stood immovable. +Then he recovered himself, and said it twice +with hurried apology.</p> +<p>“And am I to go at once, sir?”</p> +<p>“To-morrow morning will do,” Micky said. “You can +go by the first boat train.” He looked at the man anxiously. +He had a sort of uncomfortable feeling that +Driver must be thinking he was not quite right in the +head. After a moment he dismissed him.</p> +<p>Then Micky went over to his desk and rummaged +amongst the many papers and letters there till he found +a sheet of paper embossed with the name of an hotel in +Paris. It had not been used, and Micky heaved a sigh +of relief.</p> +<p>He went to bed late that night. He forgot all about +his promise to go round to the Delands. He spent the +time writing letters and tearing them up again till the +wastepaper basket was full; then he carried it over to +the fireplace and burnt every scrap of paper it contained.</p> +<p>There were two finished letters lying on his desk. One +was sealed and addressed, but not stamped, and the other +was written on a sheet of Driver’s plain notepaper, which +Micky folded and unfolded with a sort of nervous dissatisfaction.</p> +<p>Its contents were not very long, but they had taken a +good deal of composing.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Dear Miss Shepstone</span>,––I received your note in reply to my +letter and cannot help saying that I feel very hurt at your decided +refusal to allow me to take you out. I thought we were to +be friends? Have I been so unfortunate as to offend you? If +so, I can only assure you that it has been utterly unintentional. +Won’t you let me see you, if only for a moment? I will meet you +at any time or place.–– + Yours sincerely, MICKEY MELLOWES.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He gave a dissatisfied growl as he finished reading it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +Not a very eloquent epistle. There was so much more +which he wanted to say, but did not dare to. He folded +it again and thrust it into an envelope; then he addressed +it and laid it beside that other on his desk, comparing the +two handwritings with complacence.</p> +<p>Not in the least alike! Nobody would ever suspect that +they had been written by the same person.</p> +<p>He rang for Driver and gave him the unstamped envelope. +“This is what I want you to post in Paris. Mind +you put enough stamps on. You’d better have it weighed.”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.” Driver looked at the other letter. “And––is +that for the post too, sir?”</p> +<p>Micky put his hand behind him with a guilty gesture.</p> +<p>“No; I’ll post that myself,” he said, and he went out +then and there into the cold night and did so.</p> +<p>As it dropped into the letter-box Micky looked up at +the stars and sighed.</p> +<p>What the dickens could he have done to make her so +distant? At any rate he would let her see that he was not +to be so easily snubbed. If she didn’t answer his letter he +would go boldly round to Elphinstone Road, and stay +there till he saw her.</p> +<p>He was half way to bed before he remembered that he +had promised to go to the Delands that evening. He +stopped short with his necktie half undone and swore.</p> +<p>What the deuce would they think of him?</p> +<p>Well, he would have to plead that headache still, that +was all, and if Marie chose to cut up rough.... +Micky felt mean because he rather hoped that she would. +He knew that he wanted their friendship to cease, but, +man-like, he did not altogether like having to take the +initiative. Marie was a nice little girl, and if it hadn’t +been for that relative of hers dying on New Year’s Eve––well, +he would probably have been engaged to her by +this time.</p> +<p>He went to bed feeling miserable.</p> +<p>Driver had just left the house to catch the boat train +the following morning when June Mason rang Micky up.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></div> +<p>“Any news for me?” she demanded. “I hate worrying +you so soon, but Esther’s given notice. She’s told Mrs. +Elders that she can’t afford to stay on. I nearly shook +her this morning. I asked her to let me help her for the +time being. I even said that I would take five per cent. +interest on the hateful money if she was so abominably +proud, and she laughed! She cried the next minute and +said I was much too kind to her, but she wouldn’t listen. +What have you done?”</p> +<p>“Everything,” said Micky promptly. “In a couple of +days––”</p> +<p>“My good man, that’s much too long to wait.”</p> +<p>“It’s the best I can do,” said Micky rather shortly. +“And you’ll find it’s a good best if you’ll be patient.”</p> +<p>He heard the sigh she gave.</p> +<p>“Honest Injun!” he said seriously.</p> +<p>“Oh, very well. If you let me down, Micky–––”</p> +<p>“You won’t be let down,” Micky said.</p> +<p>June went back to Elphinstone Road with a heavy +heart.</p> +<p>She was very thorough in her friendships, and it really +seemed a terrible thing to her that Esther would not +accept help.</p> +<p>She felt so genuinely fond of the girl herself that she +could not understand the feeling of affection and confidence +not being reciprocated; she went up to her room +and tucked herself into the big armchair amongst the +mauve cushions and smoked innumerable cigarettes. Charlie +was asleep by the fire; he found his way upstairs now +without invitation; he was beginning to get quite respectable-looking; +he had lost his wild, scared look, and even +his purr had taken on a sleekier, smoother sound.</p> +<p>June stared at him for some time, then suddenly she +got up and went downstairs.</p> +<p>She knocked at Esther’s door, but there was no answer, +and she went back to her own room dejectedly.</p> +<p>If only Esther were not so proud they might have such +good times together! If only Esther had a little money +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +and could go shares with this room; but what was the +good of wishing? She hurled one of the mauve cushions +across the room, and after that she felt better.</p> +<p>She went down to lunch because she hoped Esther +would be there, but she was not. The long room was +rather empty, and June ate her cold meat and pudding +hurriedly and went back upstairs.</p> +<p>It was getting dusk when she heard Esther come in; +she waited eagerly, but the footsteps did not come on to +her door. June threw another cushion across the room +to keep the other company; it was her chief vent for +anger or irritation.</p> +<p>“Confounded pride,” she said under her breath. She +paced up and down for some minutes, then she caught +Charlie up from his cushion and went downstairs to Esther’s +room with him in her arms.</p> +<p>Her knock was answered immediately and Esther stood +there in the doorway.</p> +<p>June spoke without looking at her.</p> +<p>“I’ve brought Charlie down––I thought if he stayed up +in my room any longer you’d be wanting to pay me for +his board and lodging.”</p> +<p>She thrust the cat into Esther’s arms and turned away.</p> +<p>She was feeling very sore; hers was such a generous +nature that she could not understand why Esther could +not see how glad she would have been to help her; she +went back to her own room and slammed the door.</p> +<p>A moment later she was sorry for what she had done; +twice she went half way down the stairs to apologise, +then came back again.</p> +<p>“Do her good,” she told herself snappishly. “I’ve no +patience with such silly pride, and as for you, my boy,” +she stopped and shook her fist at Micky’s photograph, +“if you don’t buck up and find her something....”</p> +<p>The two days dragged away. June purposely avoided +Esther; she never went into the dining-room to meals, +and Esther never came upstairs to June’s room; there +was a kind of armed neutrality between them.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></div> +<p>Charlie, too, seemed to have been told to keep away, +and June missed his lusty purr in the silent room.</p> +<p>She shed a few tears into the mauve cushions; she +thought Esther was wilfully misunderstanding her; she +wrote to Micky on the second day with a great deal of +emphasis.</p> +<p>“Are you dead or asleep? Here am I, just living to +hear from you, and you leave me without a word! Esther +and I haven’t spoken for two days, not that you care, of +course. You don’t believe in my friendships, I know, but +it’s a very serious thing for me. I’m more fond of that +girl than I’ve ever been of anybody, and now she’ll walk +out of this house and my life, and it will be your +fault....”</p> +<p>She knew this was unfair to Micky, but she knew that +Micky would understand––Micky always understood.</p> +<p>But Micky frowned over the letter. Did she imagine +he enjoyed sitting down here doing nothing? What pleasure +did she suppose he was getting out of the whole +thing?</p> +<p>He threw the letter into the fire. Something ought to +happen to-morrow, anyway. The last two days had +seemed like months.</p> +<p>To kill time he went round to the Delands. He felt a +little nervous as he reached the house. It seemed an unconscionable +time since he was last here. When the butler +opened the door he felt an insane desire to say, “Good +evening, Jessop! You’re still here, then.” Such a decade +ago it seemed since Jessop had been wont to admit him +without question and take his hat and coat.</p> +<p>But Jessop did not smile to-night, and did not move +back an inch when he saw who was the caller.</p> +<p>Micky was nonplussed.</p> +<p>“Er––anybody in?” he asked awkwardly.</p> +<p>“No, sir; the mistress and the young ladies are all out, +sir....”</p> +<p>“Oh!” There was a little silence; then Micky turned +on his heel. “Well, good-night!” he said jerkily.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div> +<p>He walked away, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed. +A few yards down the road he almost cannoned +into a man he knew.</p> +<p>“Hullo, Philips! Where are you off to?”</p> +<p>Philips stopped.</p> +<p>“Hullo, Micky! Not coming my way? I’m going to +the Delands. What’s up with you? Haven’t seen you for +a week or more.”</p> +<p>“I’ve been seedy,” Micky said hurriedly. “And the +Delands are out. I’ve just called there myself.”</p> +<p>“Eh?” Philips tried hard to see his face through the +darkness. “Rot,” he said at last. “They’ve got a musical +evening on––I had a special invite.”</p> +<p>Micky said nothing. This was a nasty blow; apparently +the Delands were only “not at home” to him. Jove! +he must have behaved caddishly. He walked on feeling +very subdued. Had he quite lost his wits, he wondered, +that for the sake of a girl who would have none of him +he was willing to offend all his old friends? He tried +to look at his behaviour from Marie Deland’s point of +view. Yes, it must look pretty rotten, he was forced +to admit.</p> +<p>He thought about it all the time he walked home. He +asked himself honestly if this new game was worth the +candle.</p> +<p>Esther loved another man.</p> +<p>Already she had shown him that she cared nothing for +him or his friendship, and yet––yet––– Micky set his +teeth. He had never wanted anything really badly in +all his life before, but now he wanted this girl.</p> +<p>“I’m not done yet, anyway,” he told himself. “After +all––let the best man win.”</p> +<p>He felt that he had decided a question of great importance +as he went back to his rooms; it was a pleasant +surprise to find Driver there; Micky beamed.</p> +<p>“You’ve got back, then?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>The man took Micky’s hat and coat, and turned to go.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></div> +<p>Micky stared.</p> +<p>“Everything all right?” he asked, with a touch of anxiety.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“You posted the letter?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir, and had it weighed....” There was a +little pause.</p> +<p>“Is that all?” Micky asked. “Nothing else happened?”</p> +<p>The man raised his expressionless eyes.</p> +<p>“I should have got in this morning, sir, but we had a +rough crossing, and I was ill–––”</p> +<p>Micky smiled.</p> +<p>“Poor old Driver!––anything else?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir––I met Mr. Ashton in Paris. He seemed very +surprised to see me there without you, sir.”</p> +<p>Micky’s face changed; he had not counted on this.</p> +<p>“Good Lord!” he said. “You didn’t tell him you–––?”</p> +<p>Driver raised his eyes.</p> +<p>“I never tell anybody anything, sir,” he said woodenly.</p> +<p>Micky breathed a sigh of relief.</p> +<p>“Good man.... He was alone, of course?”</p> +<p>“Alone at the hotel, but I saw him out driving twice +with the same lady, sir.”</p> +<p>“You saw him out twice––driving with the same lady?” +Micky echoed the man’s words vaguely. “All right––you +can go.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir.” Driver departed, closing the door +noiselessly.</p> +<p>Ashton had soon found consolation, Micky thought +savagely. He wondered what Esther would say if she +could know. What was Driver thinking about it all? +Driver was safe as the Bank of England; but, all the +same, it was not altogether pleasant to feel that he had +had to give himself away to his valet.</p> +<p>He looked up at the clock. Past nine! So there +would not be another post in to-night.</p> +<p>Esther had not answered his note, and two whole days +had elapsed.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></div> +<p>Micky began pacing the room. Why had she so suddenly +thrown him over, he wondered miserably.</p> +<p>He could not imagine what he had done to offend her.</p> +<p>He hardly knew how the days had passed since New +Year’s Eve. He had not visited any of his old haunts or +seen any of his friends. It almost seemed as if he had +opened the book of a new life and forgotten about the old.</p> +<p>She might have answered his letter. Dash it all! he +wasn’t just a bounder who had spoken to her for his +own amusement. He kicked a hassock out of his way +and went to bed.</p> +<p>If he didn’t hear in the morning, he would risk it and +go round to see her. At the worst she could only have +the door shut in his face....</p> +<p>“And even then–––” he told his reflection in the mirror +fiercely, as he struggled with a stud. “Even then I’m +not done––and I’ll show her that I’m not....”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>June Mason was mixing perfume the following morning +when a little knock came at her door.</p> +<p>She looked up from her work and listened; after a +second she resumed her occupation briskly.</p> +<p>“Come in,” she said.</p> +<p>She did not raise her eyes when the door opened, +though she knew quite well who had entered the room, +and for a second Esther Shepstone stood on the threshold +hesitatingly, then she spoke.</p> +<p>“May I come in?”</p> +<p>June Mason looked up with an exaggerated start; she +was a picturesque figure at that moment in a big white +overall, and with a scarf of her favourite mauve tied +over her dark head.</p> +<p>She held a little phial in either hand, and there was +a delicious faint smell of rose perfume in the room.</p> +<p>“You!” she said. “Gracious! I thought you were dead +and buried long enough ago. Oh yes, come in.... +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +You don’t mind me going on with my work, do you? +I’m up to my eyes in it.... Sit down.”</p> +<p>But Esther stood where she was, the eagerness died +out of her pretty face.</p> +<p>“I won’t stay if you’re busy,” she said. “I’ll come +another time, but–––” she hesitated. Across the room +the eyes of the two girls met, and June Mason promptly +put down the two little phials.</p> +<p>“Come in and apologise, and so will I,” she said heartily. +“There!” She reached up––Esther was taller than +she––and gave the younger girl a sounding kiss. “There! +I don’t often kiss people, so you can consider yourself +flattered.” She dragged forward a chair and pushed +Esther into it. “Now, what do you want, and where’s +that Charlie? You’ve no idea how I’ve missed him. +No––you stay there, and I’ll go and fetch him up.”</p> +<p>She darted off, and returned a moment later with +Charlie in her arms. There were yards of mauve ribbon +lying on the table and she cut off a length and tied +it in a bow round his neck; then she kissed his head +and dropped him on to his cushion. “There! Now, we’re +quite at home again,” she said. “And now, fire away and +tell me why you’re here.”</p> +<p>She packed all the dishes and boxes on to a tray, put +them out of sight behind a screen and came back to the +fire.</p> +<p>“Do you like this perfume? It’s something new! I’m +trying to blend it with white rose. Isn’t it gorgeous?”</p> +<p>“Beautiful!” said Esther. She consented to have her +chin dabbed. “What are you making now?” she asked.</p> +<p>Miss Mason chuckled.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m only experimising, as Micky calls it,” she +said lightly. “We don’t want to talk shop. You’ve got +some news; I can see by your face that you have.”</p> +<p>Esther laughed and flushed.</p> +<p>“Oh, I have,” she said tremulously. “Such wonderful +news.”</p> +<p>“Humph!” said June drily. “From the young man, of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +course? Well, is he on his way home, and have you got +to get a wedding dress in the next five minutes or something?”</p> +<p>“Oh no, it isn’t anything like that,” said Esther. There +was a shade of regret in her voice. “But he’s in Paris––he +says he’s not staying there, but he had to pay a business +call.”</p> +<p>June gave a rather unladylike sniff, but Esther was too +engrossed to notice.</p> +<p>“He seems to have been very lucky,” she went on. +“He hadn’t got very much money when he went away, +but he’s got some appointment now; he does not say +what and....”––she gave a little excited laugh––“he +says that he’s going to send me £3 a week for as long +as he is away.... Isn’t it wonderfully good of +him? I suppose I ought not to take it, but he says that +if things had turned out as he hoped, we should have +been married, and so ... you don’t think it’s +wrong of me to take it, do you?” she asked anxiously.</p> +<p>June rose to her feet. She looked chagrined; she had +been so sure that this man was a rotter, that it was a +bit of a set-back to hear this news.</p> +<p>“You take it, my dear, and don’t be a goose,” she said +promptly. “As he says, if you were his wife you’d take +it, and as you’re going to be married, it’s quite the right +thing if he’s well off that he should help you! I hope +you won’t let your silly pride make you send it back; +you’d only hurt his feelings.”</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t do that for anything,” Esther said quickly. +“But it’s such a lot of money.”</p> +<p>“Rubbish!” said June. “Why, Micky Mellowes +wouldn’t even stop to pick it up if he dropped it in the +road.”</p> +<p>“We are not all millionaires like Mr. Mellowes,” Esther +said sharply. “And he ought to be ashamed of himself +if he really wouldn’t stop to pick it up.”</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>“Don’t you take things so literally, my dear,” she said. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +“I know you don’t like Micky, though you’ve never seen +him, but I’m going to ask him here to tea one day, if he’ll +come–––”</p> +<p>“I don’t suppose he will,” said Esther. “Elphinstone +Road wouldn’t be good enough for him, would it?”</p> +<p>June frowned.</p> +<p>“I don’t like to hear you talk like that about Micky! +It’s not fair, when you don’t know him. I tell you he’s +one of the best––and, anyway, as he’s a friend of +mine–––”</p> +<p>Esther flushed.</p> +<p>“I’m sorry––I’d no right to have said anything about +him at all; please forgive me.”</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s all right,” June said laconically. “But he isn’t +a bit of a snob; he’d do anything in the world for anybody.”</p> +<p>Esther glanced up at his portrait on the shelf. She felt +a trifle ashamed of what she had said; after all, Micky +had been good to her in his own way, even if his own +way had been patronising.</p> +<p>“And so I shall stay on here,” she said, after a moment. +“And if you think you would still like me to share +this room–––”</p> +<p>June pounced upon her.</p> +<p>“You darling! It’s too good to be true. Of course, I +should love it! I’ll go and tell old Mother Elders straight +away; it will put her in a good temper for a month.”</p> +<p>“She’s out,” Esther said quickly. “I went to tell her +myself as soon as I got my letter.... It only came +this morning.” She coloured sensitively beneath June’s +quizzical eyes.</p> +<p>“And of course you’ve been devouring it ever since,” +June said. “Well, and very nice too! There’s nothing +to be ashamed of. I’ll admit that I didn’t think somehow +that he could be a very nice sort of person, this young +man of yours. No, I don’t know why I thought so––just +an idea of mine. I get hold of ideas like that. But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +I’ve changed my mind now; I’m sure he’s a dear, or +you’d never look so happy.”</p> +<p>“I should love you to see him,” Esther said with enthusiasm. +“I’m sure you would like him. I don’t know +his people, of course––I suppose if they thought he cared +for me they’d be angry––but it doesn’t really matter, and +I know he doesn’t care at all for his mother....”</p> +<p>June looked up from stroking Charlie.</p> +<p>“Now, I wish you hadn’t said that,” she said frankly. +“No man can be really nice who doesn’t love his own +mother.”</p> +<p>Esther looked distressed.</p> +<p>“But she’s horrid!” she said eagerly. “He has told me +how horrid she is to him––really she is––and as he’s her +only son–––” She stopped. “After all,” she went on, +“there’s no law to make you like a woman just because +you happen to be her son, is there?”</p> +<p>“It’s unnatural not to,” June answered shortly. “However, +as neither of us know his mother, we’ll give him +the benefit of the doubt. She may be a perfect old cat. +Some women are.”</p> +<p>She wandered round the room to find a cigarette, and +Esther sat looking into the fire.</p> +<p>She could not remember her own mother. But somehow +she felt sure that, had she been living, she would +have adored her.</p> +<p>She had never heard Raymond say anything nice of +Mrs. Ashton––he had always spoken about her in a bitter, +half sneering way.</p> +<p>She looked across to June timidly.</p> +<p>“Do you always judge people by what you call ‘instinct’?” +she asked. “When I first knew you you told +me that you felt sure you would like me before ever you +saw me, and–––”</p> +<p>“And I was right,” June said triumphantly. “I nearly +always am right when I get an instinct about anything. +Micky says it’s all rot!––there I am, talking about him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +again––it’s a habit, so don’t notice it! But even he has +to admit how often I am right; I could give you dozens +of instances.”</p> +<p>Esther did not pursue the subject; she was remembering +how June had said that she had an “instinct” that +Raymond was not nice.</p> +<p>“I think you’re the most original person I’ve ever met,” +she said with a little smile.</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>“Eccentric, Micky says I am–––” she answered, then +broke off with a comical look of despair. “You really +must excuse me for everlastingly dragging him in,” she +apologised. “As I said before, it’s a habit––and there +goes the dinner gong. Are we going to feed here to-day?”</p> +<p>Esther rose from the chair.</p> +<p>“I am,” she said. “And I’m hungry, so I do hope there’s +something nice.”</p> +<p>They went down together.</p> +<p>“Curry,” said June, sniffing the air critically. “The +colonel will be pleased; he’s always telling us how they +used to make curry in India, poor old chap! Though +I don’t think any of us really believe that he’s ever been +there.”</p> +<p>But the colonel was not there.</p> +<p>“He’s ill,” so young Harley told the two girls as they +sat down at their table. “I went up to see him this morning, +and he really looks ill.”</p> +<p>“You don’t look in exactly rude health yourself,” said +June in her blunt fashion. She noticed that Harley +looked at Esther a great deal, and she made up her mind +to tell him at the earliest opportunity that Esther was +engaged. June scented romance everywhere.</p> +<p>“They are the first violets I have seen this year,” Esther +was saying, looking at a little bunch the young man +wore in his coat.</p> +<p>He took them out eagerly and laid them down beside +her plate.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></div> +<p>“Do have them, will you? I never wear flowers really, +but a girl in the street begged me to buy them.”</p> +<p>Esther took them up eagerly.</p> +<p>“They are my favourite flowers,” she said. “And I +haven’t had any given to me for––oh, for ever so long.”</p> +<p>It gave her a little pang to remember that Ashton had +always brought her violets in the first days of their acquaintance. +It was one of the many little attentions which +he had gradually dropped.</p> +<p>“You’re not to let Mr. Harley fall in love with you, +mind,” June said severely as they went upstairs after +dinner. “He’s much too nice to be made unhappy––even +by you,” she added affectionately.</p> +<p>Esther stared.</p> +<p>“Why, whatever do you mean?” she cried. “I never +see him or speak to him, except at meal times.”</p> +<p>“I mean what I say,” June insisted. “Didn’t you see +how he looked at you when you took his violets?”</p> +<p>Esther flushed with vexation.</p> +<p>“Why, what perfect nonsense!” she protested.</p> +<p>But June only laughed.</p> +<p>“Onlookers see most of the game,” she declared. +“Aren’t you coming up to my room? Our room, I +mean.”</p> +<p>“I’ve got to go out––I had an appointment at half-past +two, but I’ll love to come to tea with you,” she +added, seeing the disappointment in June’s face.</p> +<p>“Very well, then, four o’clock. But who is the appointment +with? You won’t need to find a berth now. +You’re a lady of leisure.”</p> +<p>“But I shall try all the same. I don’t mean to be +lazy just because he’s so good to me. I shall save all +I can. I went to an agency yesterday–––”</p> +<p>“They’ll rob you,” June protested. “They always do. +I know what agents are,” she added darkly.</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>But if she had hoped great things from her call that +afternoon she was disappointed. The thin, aristocratic-looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +person who owned the “Bureau,” as it was called, +looked at her with coldly critical eyes, and said that she +had no vacancies likely to suit her.</p> +<p>“But you told me to call,” Esther protested.</p> +<p>“Certainly; there might have been something,” was all +the answer she received. “Call again to-morrow, if you +please.”</p> +<p>Esther went out dispiritedly. There were so many +girls of her own class and age in the bare waiting-room; +she felt quite sure that they would all get berths before +she had a chance.</p> +<p>She felt glad that she had June Mason to go back to. +June was always sympathetic. She went straight upstairs +to the sitting-room with the mauve cushions.</p> +<p>June opened the door before she had time to knock.</p> +<p>“I thought it was you. I heard your step. What’s +the matter? You sounded dispirited as you came upstairs.”</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“I believe you must have second sight, or whatever +they call it. But you’re right this time; I am rather down +on my luck. They haven’t anything at the agency to +suit me. I–––” She stopped, looking past June into +the cosy room to where a man had just risen from a +chair by the fire––a tall man––who looked across at her +with eyes that were half-abashed, half-defiant. Micky +Mellowes.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII' id='CHAPTER_VIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +</div> +<p>June introduced Micky and Esther with a sort of +hurried self-consciousness. It was not by her invitation +that Micky was here this afternoon, and the +fact that she had asked him to help Esther embarrassed +her.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mellowes––Miss Shepstone; you’ve both heard of +each other, so I can leave you to entertain one another +while I get tea.”</p> +<p>And she bolted out of the room.</p> +<p>Esther looked after her with angry eyes; she thought +June might have stayed––she took a quick step forward +to call her back, but Micky stopped her; he put a hand on +the door above her head, shutting it fast.</p> +<p>“I’m going to speak to you, whether you like it or not,” +he said.</p> +<p>She faced him angrily; she was very flushed.</p> +<p>“I don’t know what you mean. You’ve no right to +speak to me like that. If Miss Mason has asked you +here to meet me–––”</p> +<p>“June didn’t know I was coming. She has no more +idea than the dead that we have ever met before. I +haven’t told her, and I don’t suppose you have––or will,” +he added grimly. “However, as we are alone, will you +tell me what I’ve done to offend you? It’s not fair to +take me for a friend and then fling me over as if I were +an old glove.... If I’ve annoyed you, the least you +can do is to tell me how and give me a chance to explain.”</p> +<p>Esther had walked back to the fire and Mellowes followed +her. He knew that he had only got a few moments, +and he meant to make the most of them.</p> +<p>“You refuse to see me or to allow me to take you out,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +he went on urgently. “And you haven’t even answered +my last letter. If I have offended you–––”</p> +<p>“You haven’t,” said Esther, as he paused. “I’m not at +all offended.”</p> +<p>“Then why, in the name of all that’s holy–––” he began +again, in exasperation. She cut him short.</p> +<p>“You didn’t tell me the truth about yourself. You made +out you were poor! You pretended to be some one quite +different to what you are. You’ve a perfect right to, I +suppose, if you wish, but I hate being deceived and +treated like that. I suppose you think anything is good +enough for me! Perhaps it is, but–––”</p> +<p>Micky brought his fist down with a bang on the back +of the big armchair.</p> +<p>“I give you my word of honour, Miss Shepstone, that +what I said was only because it seemed the best way to +make you trust me. I had absolutely no other reason for +pretending to––to––be anything but what I am. I know +you’d have gone off at a tangent if I’d said I was unfortunate +enough to be rich, I know–––”</p> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> +<p>“You didn’t even write to me from your real address––you +just put a number.” She broke into an angry little +laugh. “I suppose you thought I shouldn’t understand +that a number can also be an expensive flat.”</p> +<p>Micky turned pale with anger.</p> +<p>“You’re deliberately trying to make out that I’m a +bounder. It’s not fair––I don’t deserve it; and as to thinking +anything good enough for you––I suppose you’d only +take it as a fresh insult if I told you that there is nothing +in the world I consider good enough for you.... I +... oh, what’s the good of arguing,” he broke out +with sudden rage.</p> +<p>“It’s no good at all, and there’s nothing to argue about,” +Esther said stiffly. She had taken off her gloves and was +flattening them out nervously. “You offered me your +friendship, and now I decline it. I suppose I am free +to do so?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></div> +<p>“No,” said Micky violently, “you’re not ... I––I +...” He turned away sharply, realising with +dismay how nearly he had blurted out the truth about +Ashton. After a moment he spoke more quietly.</p> +<p>“It is pure chance that brought me here. I have known +June Mason for years; we are old friends. She has no +idea that I have ever seen you before, but I will tell her +this moment if you wish it–––”</p> +<p>She raised passionate eyes to his face.</p> +<p>“I will never forgive you as long as I live if you dare +to,” she said stormily.</p> +<p>Micky frowned till his brows nearly met above his +kind eyes.</p> +<p>“Whatever I say or offer to do is wrong, of course,” +he said savagely. “If I had not offered to tell her, you +would probably have said that I was ashamed of knowing +you ... oh, good Heavens! whatever have I said +now?” he added as he saw the hot blood rush to her face.</p> +<p>He went over to her and tried to take her hand. “Do +forgive me; I beg of you to forgive me––I’m a clumsy +idiot––but you don’t know how hurt I’ve felt about being +turned down in this way.”</p> +<p>“It’s absurd to feel hurt––I haven’t turned you down; +I wish you wouldn’t keep saying that I have. Why I––I +hardly know you,” she added with a little angry laugh.</p> +<p>Micky turned away; he stood staring down into the +fire; neither of them spoke again till June returned.</p> +<p>She carried a tray of cakes and hot toast; she set it +down with a thump on the round table by the fire.</p> +<p>“I coaxed it out of Mrs. Elders,” she explained breathlessly. +“I generally keep some cake up here myself, but +I haven’t got a bit to-day. Esther, fetch the cloth, there’s +a dear; and, Micky, you put the kettle on––I have filled +it.”</p> +<p>She bustled about, talking the whole time; if she noticed +the constraint between the other two she said nothing +till tea was ready, and she sat down amongst the +mauve cushions with a breathless sigh.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></div> +<p>“Now we’re going to be cosy. Well, and how have +you two been getting on? Micky, I’ve told Esther so +much about you, she’s sick to death of the sound of your +name.”</p> +<p>“I never said so,” Esther protested quickly.</p> +<p>“Have some cake,” Micky said; he deposited a slice on +June’s plate and adroitly changed the subject. He was +furiously angry; he had not believed that Esther had it +in her to turn on him as she had done. But the more she +snubbed him, the more determined he was not to be +snubbed. As he sat there stirring his tea and listening to +June’s chatter he was watching Esther all the time.</p> +<p>She had taken off her coat now. He wondered if it was +the coat his money had bought her; it was not half good +enough, anyway. He thought of the furs and expensive +gloves which Marie Deland wore, and he longed to be able +to give some to this little girl who sat there with such +angry defiance in her eyes.</p> +<p>He realised that this pride of hers was going to be +the hardest barrier of all between them.</p> +<p>She could not forgive him because he was a rich man +and had pretended to be poor; she could not forget that +he had paid for her dinner and a saucer of milk for the +cat. He looked down to where Charlie sat blinking in +the firelight, and a little smile crossed his face. He wondered +if perhaps some day soon she would offer to repay +him for that night––if she would insist on doing so, as +she had insisted on paying her share of everything with +June.</p> +<p>“More tea?” June demanded across the table, and +Micky said, “Oh––er––yes, thanks,” hurriedly. As long as +the meal was unfinished Esther would have to stay in the +room, he thought; she could not very well leave before; +but in this he was mistaken, for Esther put her cup down +almost at once and looked at June.</p> +<p>“Will you think me very rude if I run away?” she +asked. “I’ve got to see Mrs. Elders and tell her I am staying +on––I think she has been trying to let my room.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></div> +<p>June looked disappointed. “Oh, well, if you really must +go,” she said. “Come back when you’ve seen her.”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said Esther. She turned to Micky, who +had risen. “I won’t say good-bye, then,” she said with an +effort to speak lightly.</p> +<p>He held open the door for her, and a moment later +she had gone. As soon as he came back to his chair June +rounded on him.</p> +<p>“What have you said to annoy her?” She looked quite +angry! “I wanted you to like each other. Really, Micky, +you are the limit! She won’t come back again, you see +if she does.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Micky. “I don’t think she will.” He +laughed a rather chagrined laugh. “I haven’t said anything +as far as I know,” he added. “It’s what you’ve +said, I fancy. You’ve fed her up with accounts of what +a wonderful person I am.”</p> +<p>“So you are,” said June.</p> +<p>He frowned.</p> +<p>“It’s kind of you to think so, but I don’t know anybody +else who shares your opinion.”</p> +<p>“Well, I can’t help the world being full of idiots, can +I?” she demanded in exasperation. “And, Micky, why +did you come here to-day? When I asked you before you +said you didn’t want to come; you’ve soon changed your +mind.”</p> +<p>“I came to tell you about Miss Shepstone. You asked +me to get her a berth....”</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>“My dear boy, you’re too late! She doesn’t want your +help now, or mine either, for that matter,” she added +ruefully. “She’s a lady of means––that wonderful man +of hers who’s tucked up in Paris having the time of his +life is going to allow her three pounds a week.”</p> +<p>She paused and looked across at him expectantly.</p> +<p>“Well, why don’t you look surprised?” she asked.</p> +<p>Micky swallowed hard.</p> +<p>“I am surprised!” he said. “Too jolly surprised for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +anything. It’s good news, eh? I suppose she was +pleased....”</p> +<p>“Of course she was! She’s staying on now, and is +going to share my room. She had a qualm just for a +moment, as to whether she ought to take the money, but +I soon put her mind at ease. ‘Take all you can get, my +dear,’ I said. After all, I dare say if the man’s giving +her three pounds he could afford to give her about double +that amount; men are not particularly generous from +what I know of them––except you, Micky....”</p> +<p>Micky got red.</p> +<p>“But three pounds a week is enough to live on? Don’t +you think it is?” he asked, with a touch of anxiety in his +voice.</p> +<p>“It’s enough to live here on,” June admitted. “But it’s +not great wealth. Still, she’s going to get a berth as +well, so perhaps, after all, the one you’ve heard of will +suit her. What is it?”</p> +<p>Micky was stooping, patting Charlie’s head.</p> +<p>“It’s in an office,” he said, after a moment; his voice +sounded a little uncertain. “I don’t think it would really +suit her, though––now I’ve seen her,” he hastened to add. +“It would be too hard work––late hours and all the rest +of it, dontcherknow.”</p> +<p>June looked at his bent head shrewdly.</p> +<p>“Humph!” she said. “Perhaps it’s just as well this +phantom lover of Esther’s has turned up trumps, if that’s +all you’d got to offer her.”</p> +<p>“Phantom lover!” said Micky; his voice sounded as if +he were annoyed. “Whom are you talking about?”</p> +<p>“Esther’s beloved,” June said airily. “She won’t tell +me his name, so I call him the phantom lover, because +I’ve got an eerie sort of feeling in my mind about him +that he doesn’t really exist. What do you think, Micky?”</p> +<p>“My dear girl, how can I possibly know?”</p> +<p>June produced some cigarettes.</p> +<p>“If he were all that she’d like me to believe he is,” +she said shrewdly, “she’d tell me more about him. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +certainly got a bit more confidential to-day, and said that +he had a cat for a mother and a few things like that. +She had another letter from him this morning; he’s in +Paris––on business, so he tells her.” She laughed, turning +her face for a moment against the mauve cushion. +Suddenly she sat upright again, “Micky, I should hate +that man if I knew him!”</p> +<p>Micky smiled.</p> +<p>“Another of your ‘instinctive hates’?” he asked whimsically.</p> +<p>She nodded.</p> +<p>“I know you don’t believe in them, but....”</p> +<p>“Don’t I?” said Micky thoughtfully. “I’m not so sure.” +He looked at his watch. “Well, I must be trotting. +There’s nothing else I can do for you, I suppose? No +more waifs who want billets...?”</p> +<p>“You’re laughing at me.”</p> +<p>“I’m not––I never laugh at you.” He laid his hand on +her shoulder for a moment. “Don’t bother to get up; +you look so comfortable ... Good-bye–––”</p> +<p>“Good-bye––and, Micky, don’t make up your mind not +to like Esther just because of this afternoon.”</p> +<p>“My dear, I never thought of such a thing,” he protested +lamely.</p> +<p>June snuggled more cosily into the cushions.</p> +<p>“Ah, but I know what you are,” she said, for once +hopelessly on the wrong track.</p> +<p>Micky laughed to himself as he went down the stairs; +he wondered if he was getting clever, or if June was not +so quick to see a thing as he had believed, that she had +not noticed the constraint between himself and Esther.</p> +<p>He looked about him eagerly as he went out, hoping +to catch a glimpse of Esther, but the house seemed deserted, +quite different from what he had pictured it to be. +He had always thought that a London boarding-house +must be noisy and crowded and perpetually smelling of +soap and cabbage water; he was relieved to find that this +was fairly comfortable and quiet.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></div> +<p>He picked up a taxicab at the corner of the road and +was driven back to his flat. He felt very depressed. +Everybody seemed to have interests in life except himself. +He wished he had got married years ago and settled +down. He thought of Marie Deland with remorseful +affection. Here was another woman who must be +thinking him a positive outsider. How in the world did +a man put an end to a flirtation that was growing rapidly +into something else without hurting a woman’s feelings, +he wondered.</p> +<p>Ashton had accomplished it quite successfully several +times. Micky sighed, and let himself into his flat.</p> +<p>There were several letters lying on the table; he flicked +them through disinterestedly; then he stopped––the last +one was from Ashton.</p> +<p>Micky stood for quite a minute staring down at the +handwriting, which he had been at such pains to copy. +Then he ripped open the envelope.</p> +<p>Ashton wrote from Paris:––</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Dear Mickey</span>,––Just a line to send you my address, as promised. +Hope things are going well with you. I am staying on +here for the present, as I have run up against Maisie Clare––you +remember her, Tubby Clare’s little widow? My son, she’s got +pots of money, and at the present moment things are looking +promising! The mater would be pleased if I could manage to +pull it off. By the way, I dare say Driver told you I met him +the other day––he was very mysterious and hadn’t a word to say! +Surely he wasn’t joy-riding over here by himself? Remember +me to every one.––Yours, <span class='smcap'>R. F. Ashton</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And not one word about Esther! Not a single mention +of the girl who was thinking of him night and day, +and only living to see him again.</p> +<p>Micky crushed the letter and tossed it into the fire. +That settled it, he told himself; he no longer had the +slightest compunction in cutting Ashton out; the fellow +was not worth a moment’s consideration.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX' id='CHAPTER_IX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther trudged to and fro from the agency where +the stiff and stately lady presided so many times +during the next few days that she began to hate the +sight of the tall building and the dark stairs covered with +worn linoleum.</p> +<p>Every day the waiting-room seemed crowded with +girls, many of whom were a great deal more shabby and +hopeless looking than she was, and they all sat patiently +on the wooden chairs and eyed one another with a sort of +jealous suspicion till their turn came to pass within the +magic portal which guarded the stiff and stately lady +from the vulgar gaze.</p> +<p>“I told you an agency wouldn’t be any good,” June +Mason said when Esther came home after another fruitless +journey. “They take your money and forget you +till you turn up to remind them that you’re still in existence. +Give it up, my dear, and come into partnership +with me. I should love to take you round to all the big +stores and tell them that you owe your milk and rose +complexion to my famous cream.” She burst out laughing. +“Can’t you imagine it! Esther, you and I ought to +tour the country in a caravan or something. Call ourselves +the new Sequah.” She rolled over in the big chair +and hid her face in the cushions.</p> +<p>Esther laughed; she felt quite at home now in June’s +room. There were a few of her own possessions lying +about, and she had bought Charlie a new cushion of his +own. It gave her a sense of independence to know that +she was paying her share of everything.</p> +<p>“I shall get something if I wait long enough,” Esther +said presently. “Do you know, I rather think I should +like to be a companion, after all. I told Mr.–––” She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +stopped; she had been about to add that she had once +told Micky how she would hate it.</p> +<p>“It might not be so bad,” June admitted; “but you +want some one with pots of money and a good temper.”</p> +<p>She looked at Esther consideringly.</p> +<p>“There wouldn’t have to be any eligible sons either,” +she said bluntly. “You’re much too pretty–––”</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“What nonsense!”</p> +<p>June dragged Esther to her feet and made her look in +the glass.</p> +<p>“Now dare to call it nonsense––look at yourself,” she +commanded.</p> +<p>But Esther only looked at June.</p> +<p>“Next to you,” she began, but June cut her short.</p> +<p>“If you’re going to try blatant flattery,” she said.</p> +<p>They both laughed at that.</p> +<p>Some one tapped at the door; Lydia, the smiling housemaid, +appeared; she looked at the two girls with a sort of +parental expression; she was very fond of them both, +and never minded how late or how hard she worked to +do little extra jobs for either of them. It was her greatest +pride to stay in when her “evening out” came and +help June label the little mauve pots; she recommended +the famous cream to all her friends; she was as proud +of it as if it were her own invention.</p> +<p>She carried a note on a tray now, which she handed +to Esther.</p> +<p>“I found it on the hall table, Miss,” she said. “It must +have been left by messenger.”</p> +<p>She waited a moment to make up the fire and tidy the +hearth; she was always glad of an excuse to stay in the +room; she was never tired of telling her friends what a +pretty room it was––she loved the mauve cushions and +the many photographs.</p> +<p>She went away with a reluctant backward look. June +yawned.</p> +<p>“Another love-letter?” she asked chaffingly. She looked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +across at Esther, and was surprised to see the embarrassment +in the girl’s face.</p> +<p>“It’s from Mr. Harley,” she said, in distress. “Oh, I’m +sure I’ve never let him think I–––” She handed the +letter to June. “He wants me to go to a theatre with +him,” she added in confusion.</p> +<p>“Well, I should go,” said June promptly. “You don’t +get much fun, and the man knows you’re engaged, and if +he likes to chance it–––”</p> +<p>“But how does he know I’m engaged? I’ve never +told him.”</p> +<p>“I did,” June said calmly. “I saw the way the wind +was blowing and told him to save complications.” She +made a little grimace at Esther. “And after this note are +you still going to declare that he isn’t more than ordinarily +interested? Esther, you’re the most unsuspecting +baby––– Say you’ll go, of course. There’s no harm +in it.”</p> +<p>“I certainly shall not go,” Esther said; “I don’t want +to, for one thing, and, for another, it would not be +fair–––”</p> +<p>“You mean to Mr. Harley?” June asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, and to–––”</p> +<p>“To the phantom lover! Oh, I see!” said June drily.</p> +<p>Esther coloured.</p> +<p>“I don’t know what you mean,” she said with a touch +of dignity.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, you do,” June declared. “Don’t look so angry! +What am I to call him, pray? You haven’t told me his +name.” She waited, but Esther did not speak. “Of +course, if you’d rather not,” she added, rather stiffly.</p> +<p>Esther got up and came over to sit on the arm of her +chair.</p> +<p>“It isn’t that I don’t want you to know, but––well, I +promised him not to tell any one; you see, his people +would be furious if they knew. After all, I suppose I’m +not anybody, and–––”</p> +<p>June pushed her away.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span></div> +<p>“Oh, you make me tired!” she said crossly. “Why will +you insist on belittling yourself? Who on earth is this +wonderful man that he sets himself up for such a model +of superiority? He can’t be anybody if he’s ashamed of +you. You don’t like Micky, I know, but, with all his +money and position, if he loved you he’d be only too +proud to shout it from the housetops, and not care a +hang what the world thought. There’s no rotten pride +about Micky––if he loved a beggar girl he’d be proud of +it.... No, don’t say any more, it makes me boil!”</p> +<p>She lit another cigarette and puffed at it furiously.</p> +<p>“Do you––do you think I should go with Mr. Harley, +then?” Esther asked presently. Her pretty face was +flushed and troubled.</p> +<p>“No, I don’t,” said June emphatically. “I think you +ought to please yourself. I don’t want to advise you, +but it does seem to me that you’re throwing away any +chance of real happiness for a––for a, what do they call +it?––something beginning with a ‘c’....”</p> +<p>“Chimera,” said Esther. She sat with downcast eyes +for a moment, then suddenly she began to cry. Perhaps +in her heart she felt in some mysterious way that June +was right, that this girl, with her odd instinct, had put +her hand right on the heart of things, and that her happiness +did not really lie with Raymond Ashton.</p> +<p>And yet she loved him. Night and day he was never +out of her thoughts. She slept with his letters under her +pillow. Since he went away he had done much to blot +out all that had gone before. And yet sometimes the +memory of that past unhappiness, of its disagreements +and quarrels and petty unkindnesses would raise its ugly +head and look at her with a sort of leer as if daring her +to forget entirely.</p> +<p>June was all remorse in a moment.</p> +<p>“I’m a pig!” she said disgustedly. “I ought to be +kicked. Why do you let me talk so much? It’s awful +cheek of me to dare to criticise you. I’ll never do it +again. He may be an angel for all I know. Esther, if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +you don’t stop crying I shall cry too, and then there’ll be +a nice sort of noise.”</p> +<p>Esther dried her eyes and laughed shakily.</p> +<p>“I’m silly; I don’t know why I cried. There’s nothing +to cry for,” she protested.</p> +<p>“That’s why women always cry,” said June hardily.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X' id='CHAPTER_X'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther climbed the stairs of the agency again the +following morning. There was a little feeling of +despondency in her heart. She had slept badly, +and she had not been able to forget what June had said +about Ashton.</p> +<p>Esther was influenced by June’s “instincts,” as she +chose to call them; she knew it was foolish, but the fact +remained all the same.</p> +<p>When she opened the waiting-room door she felt half +inclined to turn and go away again. She would only +meet with the same answer: “Nothing that will suit you +to-day, Miss Shepstone.”</p> +<p>But for a wonder the room was almost empty, and the +tall and stately one was standing at the communicating +door.</p> +<p>When she saw Esther she came forward.</p> +<p>“I was hoping you would call, Miss Shepstone. Will +you come into my room?”</p> +<p>Esther’s heart leapt. She obeyed eagerly.</p> +<p>A lady was sitting at the table looking rather bored and +irritated.</p> +<p>She was grey-haired and handsome, and most beautifully +dressed. She turned slightly when Esther entered, +and stared at her through her lorgnette, then she looked +at the stiff and stately one.</p> +<p>“Is this––er––the young lady?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, madam––this is Miss Shepstone.” The stately +one introduced Esther with a wave of her hand. “This +lady, Miss Shepstone, is looking for a companion. Some +one who can work well––and read aloud.” She looked +at Esther sharply. “Can you read aloud?” she asked.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span></div> +<p>Esther stammered out that she supposed she could, +but ...</p> +<p>“That is a minor detail,” the lady with the lorgnette +interrupted. “Miss Shepstone, I am not wanting a companion +in the ordinary sense of the word. That is to +say, I do not want you to be constantly with me. You +will have your own bedroom and sitting-room––and I +shall only want you at certain hours of the day. You +will write letters for me and make yourself generally +useful.” She paused, she searched the girl’s eager face +through her glasses.</p> +<p>“How old are you?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Twenty-four,” said Esther.</p> +<p>“Humph! And what have you done up till now?”</p> +<p>Esther flushed.</p> +<p>“I was in the workroom at Eldred’s. The manager +has promised to give me a reference, but–––”</p> +<p>“Eldred’s!” the sharp gaze wavered a little. “And +why did you leave there, may I ask?”</p> +<p>“I left to get married, but–––”</p> +<p>“But you are not married, of course.”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Nor going to be?”</p> +<p>“Not for the present, but–––”</p> +<p>She was cut short again.</p> +<p>“I don’t want to get used to you and to get you used to +my ways and then for you to leave me,” she was told. +“And I don’t want a young man constantly dangling +round the house.” Her voice was sharp, but not unkind, +and there was a smile in the keen eyes.</p> +<p>“No,” said Esther. “I quite understand.”</p> +<p>There was a little silence.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the owner of the lorgnette then, “what +do you think about it? Do you think you would like to +come? Do you think you would like me?”</p> +<p>Esther smiled, there was something in this blunt questioning +that reminded her of June Mason.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said. “I think I should, but–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></div> +<p>“I hate that word,” she was told promptly. “I don’t +want any ‘buts’ in the question. You either wish to come +or you do not. I will give you fifty pounds a year, and +your keep, of course. It’s too much for an inexperienced +girl like you, but I think I shall rather like you. Well, +what do you say?”</p> +<p>Esther did not know what to say. The offer was +tempting enough, but she thought of June Mason and the +room with the mauve cushions where she was settling +down so happily, and her heart sank.</p> +<p>“I should like to think it over,” she said, stammering. +“I have a friend I should like to talk it over with if you +don’t mind. If you will give me just a day or two....”</p> +<p>“Take a week by all means. I am going away myself +for a few days, and I shan’t want you till I come back. +Write and tell me what you decide to do. Here is my +card....” She took one from a heavy silver case +and laid it on the table. She looked at Esther quizzically, +then suddenly she held out her hand.</p> +<p>“Good-bye, Miss Shepstone. I hope I shall see you +again,” and the next moment she had gone.</p> +<p>The stiff and stately owner of the agency was smiling, +well pleased.</p> +<p>“You are most fortunate, Miss Shepstone,” she said. +“You have secured one of the best posts I have on my +books. If you take my advice you will not hesitate. +Make up your mind at once.”</p> +<p>Esther did not answer. She took up the card from +the table, then she drew in her breath with a hard sound, +for the name printed there was Mrs. Raymond Ashton.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI' id='CHAPTER_XI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther never knew how she got out into the street. +She walked along like some one in a dream; her +cheeks were burning hot.</p> +<p>Mrs. Raymond Ashton! Raymond’s mother! The +woman of whom he had spoken so often and so bitterly. +The woman who had raised such a fierce objection to +her marriage with Raymond.</p> +<p>There was not much resemblance between mother and +son; they were both handsome, but there was a sort of +humour in Mrs. Ashton’s face which Raymond’s lacked. +Esther tried vainly to find some likeness between them.</p> +<p>She realised how different this woman was to what +she had pictured her, remembered that spontaneously offered +hand. Had Mrs. Ashton known who she was? +Oh, surely not, or she would never have appeared so +anxious to engage her.</p> +<p>How angry Raymond would be. Angry that the woman +he loved was to go to his mother as a paid companion. +Esther could not help smiling. For her own sake +she would not mind it. At least she would be with his +mother and in his home; but, of course, the thing was +impossible––such a situation would not be tolerable. She +would have to write and refuse.</p> +<p>“Good afternoon!” said a voice, and, turning hurriedly, +Esther found Micky Mellowes beside her.</p> +<p>He looked as if he were not quite sure of his reception; +but to-day Esther had other thoughts to occupy her +which were more interesting than he was––and the smile +she gave him was almost friendly.</p> +<p>“Good afternoon! Isn’t it cold?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span></div> +<p>“Very.... Where are you hurrying off to?”</p> +<p>He tried to speak casually, but his heart was beating +uncomfortably.</p> +<p>“I’m just going back home,” Esther said. “I’ve been +to an agency looking for a berth.”</p> +<p>“A berth!” A frown came between his eyes. “What +sort of a berth?” he asked quickly.</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“Well, I’m think of taking your advice––and going as +companion to an old lady––not that she’s very old,” she +added doubtfully, with sudden memory of Raymond’s +mother.</p> +<p>“You mean that you have decided?”</p> +<p>She hesitated.</p> +<p>“Well, I have the refusal of it.” She looked at him +with defiant eyes. “I am only just hesitating––I want +to talk to Miss Mason about it––she is much more worldly +wise than I am.”</p> +<p>“June is a very sensible woman,” he said. “I am glad +you like her.” He hesitated. “And the––er––post?” he +asked with an effort. “Will it be in town?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes.”</p> +<p>She was obviously not going to tell him any more, but +Micky persevered.</p> +<p>“I wonder if it is likely to be any one I know. I have +quite an extensive acquaintance in London.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Esther. “But I don’t suppose you will +know these people, anyway,” she added with an unconscious +touch of loftiness in her voice. “The name is +Ashton––Mrs. Raymond Ashton.”</p> +<p>There was the barest possible silence before Micky +answered, a silence during which the blank dismay and +anger that crossed his face would have been amusing had +it not also had something of pathos in it.</p> +<p>“Ashton?” he said. “Oh, yes, I know Raymond Ashton +very well.” He was watching her with jealous eyes, +and she turned her head sharply and looked up at him.</p> +<p>Just for a moment a traitorous eagerness crossed her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +face; he could almost see the quick question on her lips, +then she laughed.</p> +<p>“Really! How funny! But, of course, as you say, you +must know a great many people.”</p> +<p>“I have known the Ashtons for years. You will like +Mrs. Ashton.”</p> +<p>There was a sort of quiet insinuation in the words, and +Esther bit her lip.</p> +<p>“And––the son?” she asked. “I think you said you +knew the son.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I know him––he is in Paris, I believe.”</p> +<p>Micky was conscious of a queer tightening about his +throat; it was a tremendous effort to force himself to +speak lightly.</p> +<p>“And shall I like him as well, do you think?” Esther +asked deliberately.</p> +<p>Micky did not answer.</p> +<p>“Do you like him?” she persisted.</p> +<p>Micky’s restraint broke its bonds; if he had died for it +he could not have checked the words that rushed to his +lips.</p> +<p>“I detest the fellow!” he said. “He’s a beastly outsider!”</p> +<p>He dared not look at her. He held his breath, waiting +for the storm to break, but if he had lost his self-control +she kept hers admirably.</p> +<p>“Really,” she said. Her voice was a little breathless, +but quite calm. “What does a man mean when he calls +another man––such a name?”</p> +<p>Her face was quite colourless, even to the lips, and her +hands were clenched in the shabbiness of the cheap little +muff she carried.</p> +<p>He blunderingly tried to make amends.</p> +<p>“I ought not to have said that, just because he’s not the +sort of man I care about,” he said stammeringly. “He’s +quite all right––it all depends from what point of view +you regard him. I hope you will forget that I said that, +Miss Shepstone. It––it was unpardonable.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span></div> +<p>“It’s a matter of complete indifference to me what you +say about––Mr. Ashton,” she told him.</p> +<p>She stopped. They had been walking along together.</p> +<p>“Which way are you going?” she asked.</p> +<p>Micky flushed up to his eyes; he knew this was a dismissal.</p> +<p>“I was coming along to see June,” he said. “I hoped +you would allow me to walk along with you––if I am not +intruding.”</p> +<p>Esther forced a smile, but her lips felt stiff.</p> +<p>“Oh, but I am not going back,” she said. Her voice +sounded as if it were cut in ice. “So I won’t detain you. +Good-bye.”</p> +<p>She turned and left him, walking quickly away again +in the direction from which she had just come.</p> +<p>Her eyes were smarting with tears that had to be restrained.</p> +<p>“How dare he––oh, how dare he?” she asked herself +passionately. “What does he know about Raymond?”</p> +<p>She could not trust herself to go back home. She +walked about in the cold till she was tired out. She +wanted to be sure that Micky would have left Elphinstone +Road before she got there. She wondered if June +knew the Ashtons too. She probably did, as Micky Mellowes +knew them. They were both of Raymond’s own +world, these two. It was only she, who loved him best, +who was outside the magic circle of his friends.</p> +<p>It was nearly supper time when she got in. She paused +for a moment in the hall and looked anxiously at the +rows of coats and hats hanging there. She thought she +would know Micky’s if she saw them there. She forgot +that he might have taken them up to June’s room. She +turned away with a little sigh.</p> +<p>At the foot of the stairs she met young Harley. He +coloured sensitively when he saw her and stood aside +for her to pass.</p> +<p>Esther flushed too. She wondered what he thought of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +her note refusing the theatre. With sudden impulse she +spoke––</p> +<p>“I hope you are not angry with me, Mr. Harley, but––but +perhaps you do not know that I am engaged to be +married, and so ... so I don’t think I should accept +invitations from any one else, though––though it was kind +of you to ask me,” she added.</p> +<p>“I should have been delighted if you could have come,” +he said. “But, of course, if your fiancé would not care +about it–––” He broke off as if there was nothing more +to be said.</p> +<p>Esther wondered if Raymond really would mind; at +first he had been very jealous, and could not bear her +to speak to another man, but latterly––she hated it, because +she could not forget that once he had told her she +could marry a man with money if she only played her +cards carefully––the man who had said that seemed a +different personality altogether from the man whose letters +she had only lived for during the last fortnight.</p> +<p>Was she mean and unforgiving that she continually +found herself remembering the quarrels and scenes they +had had? She wanted so earnestly to forget them; she +went up to June’s room with dragging steps.</p> +<p>The door of the room opened before she reached the +landing, and June came out.</p> +<p>“I knew it was you,” she said. “Poor soul! how tired +you sound. Another day of miserable failure, I suppose. +Never mind, come and sit down in the warm, and you’ll +soon forget it.”</p> +<p>Esther laughed rather shamefacedly.</p> +<p>“It’s been a day of success, strange to relate,” she said. +“But I’m tired, dead tired––I must have walked miles.” +She suddenly remembered Micky; she looked round with––a +quick suspicion. “Have you been alone all the afternoon?” +she asked.</p> +<p>“Yes, quite alone,” June laughed. “Who did you expect +to find here, pray?” she demanded.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></div> +<p>“Nobody––I only wondered if you had had any visitors.”</p> +<p>“I might have known it wasn’t the truth that he was +coming here,” she told herself vexedly.</p> +<p>“Well, and what about the success?” June asked; she +was sitting on the hearthrug stroking Charlie. “You +don’t mean to say that the old dear at the agency really +had something to offer you this time?”</p> +<p>Esther nodded.</p> +<p>“Yes, and she’s desperately anxious for me to take it, +too. It’s quite a good offer, but it means leaving here +and living in; and I don’t believe I want to leave here,” +she added ruefully.</p> +<p>June looked dismayed.</p> +<p>“I shan’t let you go,” she said promptly. “Just as we +are settling down so cosily.” She put her white hands +over her ears. “No, I don’t want to hear another thing +about it, if that’s it,” she said. “I shan’t listen––write +and refuse it––write and refuse it at once.”</p> +<p>Esther laughed; she pulled June’s hands down and +held them firmly.</p> +<p>“Tell me,” she said. “Do you know any people named +Ashton?”</p> +<p>She was longing to find out if June did know them; +it seemed such a lifetime since she had seen Raymond +or spoken to him, she was hungry to hear him spoken +of, even if only by this woman who probably had merely +known him as an ordinary acquaintance.</p> +<p>“Ashton!” June wrinkled up her nose. “I know some +Ashtons who live in Brayanstone Square,” she said at +last. “A mother and son. A very handsome woman +she is, with white hair, she has a sort of grande dame +look about her––the sort of woman you can imagine in +a powdered wig and a crinoline, curtsying to the queen.” +She scrambled up, and, snatching a paper fan from the +shelf, swept Esther a graceful curtsy to illustrate her +meaning.</p> +<p>But Esther was too much in earnest to be amused.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span></div> +<p>“It must be the same Mrs. Ashton,” she said eagerly. +“This is her card––she gave it to me to-day––Mrs. Raymond +Ashton.”</p> +<p>June glanced at the card and nodded briskly.</p> +<p>“Yes, it’s the same. I don’t know her frightfully well; +she’s rather reserved, too; but I admire her immensely––well, +go on.”</p> +<p>“She wants me to go to her as a sort of companion––she +has offered me fifty pounds a year.”</p> +<p>June whistled.</p> +<p>“Not bad, is it? But you’ll refuse, of course?”</p> +<p>“I asked her to let me think it over; I said I should +like to talk it over with you first.”</p> +<p>June clasped her hands round her knees and stared +into the fire thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“She’s a widow, isn’t she?” Esther said hesitatingly. +“At least––she didn’t say anything about a husband.”</p> +<p>“Yes, she’s a widow right enough,” June said. “And +delighted to be, I should think,” she added bluntly. “I +never knew the departed spouse, but from all accounts he +was a perfect terror.”</p> +<p>Esther said nothing. Raymond had always spoken of +his father as being a “rare old sport.”</p> +<p>After a moment––</p> +<p>“There’s a son, too,” June said. “A kind of Adonis to +look at, beautiful eyes and all that sort of thing.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Esther. She tried hard to keep the eagerness +from her voice. “Do you––do you know the son +too?” she asked nervously.</p> +<p>June gave a queer little laugh.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I know him. That is to say, I say ‘How +d’ye do’ to him when I have the misfortune to meet him, +but–––”</p> +<p>Esther’s hands were clasped in her lap.</p> +<p>“Why––why––misfortune?” she asked.</p> +<p>June Mason shrugged her shoulders.</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know––it’s hard to explain––he’s never +done me any harm, but there are some people one hates +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +by instinct, and Raymond Ashton is one of the people +I hate.” She smoothed a crease in the skirt of her frock. +“He’s such a––such an awful outsider,” she added, unconsciously +choosing the word Micky Mellowes had used +a few hours before.</p> +<p>Esther sat very still. Twice she tried to speak, but +no words would come. She knew that it was unfair +to June to sit there and allow her to go on talking about +Raymond, but something in her heart seemed to have +set a seal on her lips.</p> +<p>“He’s that insufferable kind of creature who thinks +himself irresistible,” June went on. “Micky has often +told me the way he brags about his so-called ‘conquests.’ +Conquests, indeed! What are they but a few poor ignorant +girls hoodwinked by his handsome face and +smooth tongue? Dozens of girls he’s had, my dear, literally +dozens! Only the other day some one told me +that Mrs. Ashton had to threaten to cut him off with a +shilling if he didn’t give up some little person he was +supposed to be going to marry! I don’t know how true +it is, mind you, but that’s the sort of man he is––I’ve no +time for him at all,” she finished vigorously.</p> +<p>She turned to look at Esther, and gave a little exclamation +of alarm. “How pale you are! Don’t you feel +well?”</p> +<p>“I’m quite all right––I’m just tired––I don’t think I’ll +go down to supper to-night. I’ll just stay here and be +quiet. I wanted to hear what you had to say about my +future employer.”</p> +<p>“Future fiddlesticks!” June retorted. “You’re not going +to her, my dear; I shan’t let you. If Raymond came +home while you were there, you’d never have any peace.”</p> +<p>Esther was lying back now with closed eyes. Over and +over again in her mind she was saying to herself––</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it––I don’t believe a word of it; it’s all +cruel lies––first Mr. Mellowes and now June. They both +hate him, that’s what it is; but I don’t believe a word +of what they say.” June was bustling about the room +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +fetching cushions and a light rug which she had laid over +Esther.</p> +<p>“You have a little sleep, and you’ll feel heaps better,” +she said.</p> +<p>She went away, shutting the door quietly; and Esther +hid her face in her hands.</p> +<p>She hardly knew why she was crying, she only knew +that she was utterly miserable.</p> +<p>She took Ashton’s last letter from her dress and read it +through again––how could any one, reading it, doubt that +he loved her? How could any one, knowing his careful +thought for her, believe that he was the detestable personality +June and Micky had described?</p> +<p>She kissed the signature passionately. Nobody in all +the world counted but this one man.</p> +<p>She got up and went over to June’s desk, which both +girls used; she felt that she must write to him and tell +him how much she wanted him.</p> +<p>When she had finished writing she looked to the head +of the paper on which she had written for the address, +and then she saw a postscript scribbled in a corner which +she had not noticed before.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Don’t write to me here––I shall have left this hotel by the +time you get my letter. I will write again as soon as possible.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It was like a door with iron bars being closed in her +face; she could not write after all! She could have no +relief for all her longing and unhappiness; she must just +wait and wait, eating her very soul out, till he wrote +again.</p> +<p>She tore up what she had written and threw it into the +fire.</p> +<p>“The phantom lover”––June’s half playful, half mocking +words came back to her with foreboding. Was he indeed +only a phantom lover? Just a creation of her own +brain and desire? She tried to thrust the thought from +her; she was tired and fanciful; in the morning she would +be all right; it was not fair to him, it was not fair to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +herself to be so doubting. She went back to June’s +couch and curled up amongst the mauve pillows; life was +so hard, so disappointing; it gave so little of all that one +desired; the tears fell again, presently she cried herself +to sleep.</p> +<p>June came back on tiptoe; she stole across the room +and looked at Esther, then she went back to the hearthrug +to keep Charlie company.</p> +<p>The fire had died down and she replenished it as quietly +as she could, putting a knob on at a time with her +fingers.</p> +<p>As she leaned over to poke them softly together she +caught sight of a scrap of paper lying in the grate. It +looked like part of a torn letter, and without thinking +June picked it up––the one word “dearest” stared up at +her in Esther’s writing.</p> +<p>June looked at it for a long moment, then she turned +her head and glanced at Esther, still sleeping.</p> +<p>June frowned; she hunched her shoulders impatiently.</p> +<p>“More phantom lover, I suppose,” she told herself +crossly; she threw the little scrap of paper into the fire +and watched it burn with a sort of vixenish delight.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII' id='CHAPTER_XII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +</div> +<p>“I’ve decided to accept Mrs. Ashton’s offer,” said +Esther suddenly.</p> +<p>It was the following afternoon, and she had +been helping June paste labels on to the little mauve pots. +She looked up as she spoke, with the paste brush still in +her hand and her fingers all sticky.</p> +<p>“Did you hear what I said?” she demanded guiltily.</p> +<p>“Yes, I heard,” June said rather tartly. “And I think +you’re a mean pig. However, go on! Have your own +way! Don’t mind me.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t that at all,” Esther declared. “But I must +do something––I’ve been idle quite long enough. I shall +be sorry to leave you, but I shall still pay for my half +of the room.”</p> +<p>“Thank you––thank you very much,” said June drily. +Esther flushed in distress.</p> +<p>“Don’t be so unkind! It’s not that I want to leave +you. I’ve been happier here with you than anywhere +else, but I must work, I can’t live on nothing....”</p> +<p>“You could live on three pounds a week if you wished +to. What do you suppose the phantom lover will say +if he knows that his money hasn’t helped you, and that +you’re going to make a drudge of yourself?”</p> +<p>“I shan’t be a drudge––I–––”</p> +<p>June broke in impatiently.</p> +<p>“Oh, very well––I don’t want to argue, but I think +it’s mean of you. If you really liked me you’d stay....”</p> +<p>“I shall come to see you whenever I get any time off.”</p> +<p>“Yes, once a week for two hours, I suppose––and when +I shall probably be out.”</p> +<p>“I shall write first and let you know when I’m coming.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></div> +<p>June took no notice; she screwed the lid on to a perfume +bottle and wiped her fingers on the white overall.</p> +<p>“You needn’t put any more labels on,” she said shortly. +“I can do the rest myself.”</p> +<p>She took the tray away from Esther and carried it into +her bedroom; when she came back there was a suspicion +of tears in her eyes. Esther looked distressed. She felt +that she was behaving meanly, and yet she meant to +go to Mrs. Ashton’s.</p> +<p>“Micky Mellowes is coming directly,” June said tartly. +“If you don’t want to see him you’d better go. I know +you hate him....”</p> +<p>Esther turned scarlet. She took off the apron she +had borrowed from June and turned to the door.</p> +<p>Before she reached it June followed.</p> +<p>“I’m a pig. I apologise humbly! Please stay. Why +don’t you box my ears when I speak to you like this?” +She dragged Esther back to the fire. “I’m wild because +you’ve made up your mind to leave me. Our friendship +doesn’t mean anything to you.... There’s Micky––he’ll +want to know why I’ve been crying. Amuse him +for five minutes, there’s an angel, and I’ll come back.”</p> +<p>She was gone in a flash.</p> +<p>A smiling Lydia showed Micky into the room. Lydia +liked Micky; he was always courteous, and he had been +generous with his tips on each occasion that he had visited +the house.</p> +<p>Micky looked a little embarrassed when he saw Esther. +He glanced quickly round the room. “June ... I–––”</p> +<p>“She’s coming in a moment,” Esther explained. “Won’t +you sit down?”</p> +<p>Micky sat on the arm of the big chair; he was cold; +he leaned forward, rubbing his hands vigorously. Esther +watched him critically.</p> +<p>She had told June that she did not consider him in +the least good-looking, but now the thought crossed her +mind that this had not been quite a fair thing.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></div> +<p>He was tall and well made, and he had brown hair +that grew well about his temples, and waved slightly +where it parted.</p> +<p>His nose was nothing particular and slightly crooked, +and his eyes were nondescript in colour, but kind ... so +kind! Esther remembered it was the first thing she had +noticed about him the night they met.</p> +<p>He looked up.</p> +<p>“Well,” he said, “have you found another berth yet?”</p> +<p>“I’m going to Mrs. Ashton’s,” Esther said.</p> +<p>She was amazed at the sudden change in his face; a +look of furious anger flashed into his eyes; he rose to +his feet.</p> +<p>“You’re not serious?” he said quietly.</p> +<p>Esther laughed; she felt painfully nervous without +knowing why.</p> +<p>“Serious? Indeed I am!” she answered. “Mr. Mellowes, +what are you doing?...”</p> +<p>Micky had caught her hands. Jealousy was driving +him with whips of fire––jealousy of this phantom lover, +whom he himself had created.</p> +<p>“You’re not to go,” he said hoarsely. “I––I––I can’t +bear to think of you having to work for your living. +There’s no need––it’s all nonsense. You’d hate being at +the Ashtons.... Esther–––”</p> +<p>She wrenched herself free; she was white to the lips.</p> +<p>“You must be mad!” she said. “How dare you speak +like this? What is it to you what I do? How dare you +try to interfere? What business is it of yours?”</p> +<p>Micky laughed shakily; he had recovered himself a little +now.</p> +<p>“It’s everything to me,” he said rather hoarsely. “You +must know that it is. Esther, will you marry me?”</p> +<p>If only premeditated proposals were made, there would +be few marriages in the world. Ten minutes ago, when +Micky Mellowes walked into the room, he had no intention +of asking Esther to marry him, but now it seemed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +as if he had come for that express purpose as he stood +there, grimly obstinate.</p> +<p>There was a moment of silence; then Esther drew +herself up.</p> +<p>“I think you must be mad,” she said. “I’ve only seen +you once or twice in my life. I have told you that I +am already engaged.”</p> +<p>“I know, but it makes no difference,” said Micky. +“I ask you to marry me––will you marry me?”</p> +<p>She drew back from him.</p> +<p>“You must be mad.”</p> +<p>Micky laughed. “You’ve said that two or three times +already, but I assure you that I’m quite sane. I loved +you the first moment I ever saw you, but, of course, you +won’t believe it. However, that doesn’t matter––you +haven’t answered my question. Will you marry me?”</p> +<p>“You know I am engaged––how dare you?...” +She backed away from him till she was close to the door. +Micky laughed savagely.</p> +<p>“You needn’t be afraid––I’m not going to hurt you––I’m +not going to move from this hearthrug, but I should +like you to answer my question. Once again, will you +marry me?”</p> +<p>“No–––”</p> +<p>He forgot his promise and took a step towards her.</p> +<p>“I can make you happier than any other man possibly +could. I’ve never cared for a woman in my life till I met +you....”</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t marry you if you were the only man in +the world––I––I don’t even like you....” Her voice +shook with anger now. “My answer is no––no––no! I +shall never change my mind if I live to be a hundred +...” she added vehemently. The words seemed +forced from her by something in his eyes.</p> +<p>“You will,” said Micky calmly, though he felt anything +but calm. “Women always do; but if you don’t feel like +changing it just at this moment, will you please tell June +I am here? I came to see her, and I’m tired of waiting....” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +He turned away and went back to his seat on +the arm of the big chair as if nothing had happened, but +his hand shook when he tried to light a cigarette.</p> +<p>When June came back he was absently turning the +pages of a magazine; she looked at him for a moment, +then began to laugh.</p> +<p>“Micky! What in the world has happened to you lately? +Do you always read a paper upside down?”</p> +<p>Micky started, looked down at the magazine, and said a +bad word; then he laughed too, and flinging the magazine +across the room got to his feet, stretching his long arms.</p> +<p>“Where’s Esther?” June demanded. “I asked her to +stay and amuse you till I came back....”</p> +<p>“She did her best,” said Micky drily. “But I am +afraid I bored her.”</p> +<p>June looked annoyed.</p> +<p>“I do think you two might try and like one another, if +only for my sake,” she said. “It’s so perfectly obvious +that you hate one another, and I cannot see why for the +life of me.”</p> +<p>“One of your instinctive hates, perhaps,” Micky submitted, +with a touch of irony. He went back to the +chair.</p> +<p>“Miss Shepstone tells me she has found a berth,” he +said, after a moment. June nodded.</p> +<p>“Yes. Did she tell you with whom?”</p> +<p>“Yes; Mrs. Ashton.”</p> +<p>Something in the tone of his voice made June look up +quickly.</p> +<p>“Well?” she said.</p> +<p>Micky shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Nothing––I dared to suggest that perhaps she would +not like the place, and she flew at me.”</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>“That’s just like Esther; she asks for your advice, and +then–––”</p> +<p>“She didn’t ask for mine,” Micky cut in. “I very kindly +volunteered the information.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></div> +<p>“Oh!” June was on her knees now toasting buns.</p> +<p>“They’re stale,” she informed Micky candidly. “But +you won’t know it when they’re toasted.”</p> +<p>Micky watched in silence. He was wondering if June +had heard anything of his conversation with Esther; they +had both spoken rather loudly. He was also wondering +whether he should tell June the whole story.</p> +<p>“You must make allowances for her,” June said briskly, +as he was still hesitating. “I know she’s worried about +this man. I discovered another thing this morning, +Micky”––she turned with a sudden jerk to look at him, +and the bun fell off the fork into the fire.</p> +<p>Micky laughed.</p> +<p>“Well, what have you discovered now?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Why, that she can’t write to him––he doesn’t give +her an address––or, if he does, he takes good care to +move on before she has time to answer his letters. It +looks to me, Micky, as if that young man is shirking +his responsibilities. If you ask my candid opinion, Esther +won’t ever see him again.”</p> +<p>Micky said “Rot!” rather uncomfortably. “If the fellow +is travelling––moving about....”</p> +<p>“He could give her an address and have the letters +sent on, couldn’t he?” June demanded.</p> +<p>Micky rubbed his chin.</p> +<p>“What’s she want to write to him for?” he asked presently.</p> +<p>June swung round, and a second bun almost shared +the fate of the first, but she grabbed it back in time.</p> +<p>“What does she want to write to him for?” she echoed +with scorn. “My poor child, what does any one want to +write to any one for? She’s in love with the man, and +when you’re in love you simply have to write it down––at +least, that’s what I understand from people with wide +experience. Esther’s bursting to write and tell the phantom +lover how much she loves him and what a wonderful +man he is; as a matter of fact she does write to him, +and tears the letters up again, and that’s no satisfaction. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +I wish to goodness he’d get run over and done with,” she +added exasperatedly.</p> +<p>“I don’t suppose she wishes it,” said Micky.</p> +<p>“That’s because she doesn’t know what’s good for her; +he was probably the first man who had ever paid her any +attention, and from what she says he’s a bit of a swell, +and I suppose she was flattered....”</p> +<p>“Rot!” said Micky violently; it made him boil to hear +June say things like this. Ashton superior to Esther? It +was like the man’s confounded impudence to even think +such a thing.</p> +<p>“Not such rot,” June said wisely. “And that’s what all +the trouble is about, or my name’s not what it is. He +has a stuck-up old cat of a mother who won’t condescend +to know Esther.... What did you say?”</p> +<p>“Nothing,” said Micky. He got up and began strolling +about the room with his hands in his pockets, and June +finished toasting her buns and made the tea.</p> +<p>“I’ll just go up and tell Esther,” she said. She went +out of the room and upstairs.</p> +<p>“Tea,” she announced cheerfully, knocking at Esther’s +door; she turned the handle and went in. Esther was +standing by the window looking out into the neglected +garden at the back of the house; she turned.</p> +<p>“I’m not really hungry, and if you’d like to have Mr. +Mellowes to yourself–––” she began.</p> +<p>June stared at her.</p> +<p>“My dear,” she said then drily, “if I’d wanted to have +Mr. Mellowes to myself I should have married him long +ago; so don’t pretend you’re not dying for one of the +stale but toasted buns.”</p> +<p>She linked her arm in Esther’s, and they went downstairs +together. Esther did not want to come, but it +seemed easier to give way than to make excuses. She +took the chair which Micky brought forward; she felt a +little nervous and ill at ease. Once, when their eyes +met, she found herself colouring sensitively.</p> +<p>Micky let her alone in a marked fashion and talked to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +June. He had found the man he had been looking for +for months, he declared, a good business man, honest–––</p> +<p>“Really honest, Micky?” June asked, laughing.</p> +<p>“Really honest,” Micky maintained. “Do you think I’d +put you on to him else? I’ve told him all about you. I +went out to lunch with him yesterday and we talked face +creams and vanities till my head reeled. He’s full of +ideas, bursting with fresh notions for advertising. He +didn’t say so in actual words, but he thinks you’ll be a +little gold mine if you’ll put yourself in his hands.”</p> +<p>June’s eyes sparkled; she jumped up from her chair, +put her arms around Micky’s neck, and gave him a sounding +kiss.</p> +<p>“You’re a dear,” she said, “and I just love you!”</p> +<p>Esther glanced up quickly. June need not have done +that, she thought with a touch of irritation, but Micky +only laughed.</p> +<p>“Come here and you shall have that back with compound +interest,” he said, but June shook her head.</p> +<p>“That’s enough for to-day, and Esther’s looking +shocked to death.”</p> +<p>“I’m not––I never thought about it,” Esther protested +indignantly. June laughed.</p> +<p>“Well, you looked angry anyway,” she declared. +“Didn’t she, Micky?”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid I didn’t notice,” he answered coolly, but he +had, and for a moment his pulses had leapt at sight of +the anger in Esther’s eyes; she could not surely hate +him as much as she pretended if it annoyed her that +June should kiss him.</p> +<p>But she was indifferent enough now at all events; she +was leaning back listlessly, her eyes fixed on the flames, +her face sad and thoughtful.</p> +<p>She was thinking about Ashton, Micky told himself +savagely, wishing he were here, no doubt––Ashton, who +even at that moment was probably running round Paris +with Tubby Clare’s little widow.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></div> +<p>June was packing the tea things on to the tray and +humming a snatch of song. Esther rose.</p> +<p>“Let me do that––you cleared away yesterday.”</p> +<p>She took the tray.</p> +<p>June asked Micky for a cigarette.</p> +<p>“I’ve got heaps somewhere,” she said vaguely. “But +I never know where they are.” She looked over to Esther. +“Don’t bother to put the cups away now,” she said. +“Come back and be cosy.”</p> +<p>She was rather surprised that Esther obeyed; she had +quite expected her to go off and not return.</p> +<p>Fond as she was of Esther, she could not quite make +her out; she was full of surprises. It was getting dusk, +and the room was full of shadows.</p> +<p>“Shall I light up?” Micky asked. “Or do we like the +firelight?”</p> +<p>“We like the firelight,” June said promptly; she nestled +down amongst her mauve cushions.</p> +<p>Micky was sitting straddle-ways across a chair between +the two girls, and Esther had drawn back a little so that +her face was in shadow. Micky glanced at her once, but +could only see the glint of firelight on her hair and her +hands clasped listlessly in the lap of her frock. He +glanced at them; she still wore Ashton’s ring, with its +three inferior stones; he wondered how long the farce +was going to be kept up and what would happen to bring +it to an end.</p> +<p>“If some one doesn’t talk,” June said drowsily, “I +shall go to sleep.”</p> +<p>There was a quiet peacefulness in the cosy little room. +Micky crossed his arms on the chair back and leaned +his chin on them, staring into the fire, and Esther, from +her place in the shadows, looked at him unobserved.</p> +<p>Not in the least good-looking, she told herself again, +and yet in common fairness she had to admit to herself +that there was something about Micky Mellowes that was +undeniably attractive.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></div> +<p>She liked the obstinacy of his chin––she liked the way +his hair grew, and the shape of his hands––strong, manly +hands they were, in spite of the fact that they had probably +never done a day’s useful work in their lives. Of +course he was too well dressed. To begin with, there +was no need to wear grey spats over his shoes, or to have +his trousers so immaculately creased. She forgot that +she had liked Ashton to indulge in both these weaknesses.</p> +<p>Micky was whistling a snatch of a love-song under his +breath. Esther did not know what it was; she had never +heard the melody before, but something in the softly +sentimental notes brought the tears to her eyes; before +she was aware of it they were tumbling down fast.</p> +<p>June sprang suddenly to her feet.</p> +<p>“Why are we all mooning like this? Micky, give me +a match.” She almost snatched the box from him and +lit the gas; the yellow flare flooded the room. Micky, +glancing at Esther, saw the tears on her cheeks and the +way she averted her head.</p> +<p>He scowled and rose to his feet, standing so that his +tall figure shielded her.</p> +<p>“Well, I must be getting along,” he said. He pulled +out his watch and looked at it, but he never noticed what +the time was.</p> +<p>He was thinking of Esther and the tears he had surprised.</p> +<p>“And when are you going to introduce me to this man +who is to make my fortune?” June demanded crisply. +She was standing on a footstool, trying to see herself in +a glass above the mantelshelf.</p> +<p>“Esther, you might have told me what a sight I look! +My hair is all over the place.”</p> +<p>“I thought it looked nice,” Esther said hurriedly. She +knew Micky had seen her tears, and was silently hating +him for it.</p> +<p>Micky answered hesitatingly, “I’ll let you know––I’ll +fix it up and let you know. There’s no hurry, is there? +I don’t want him to think we are too keen.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></div> +<p>“But I am keen,” June insisted. “Wouldn’t you be +keen if some one had told you you would be a gold mine, +properly handled?” she laughed. “Oh, I forgot! money +is no object to you. Well, bide your own time, my dear, +but don’t let it be too long.... Must you really +go?”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid so; and, June–––”</p> +<p>“Um!” said June, intent on another cigarette.</p> +<p>Micky fidgeted. He looked down at the carpet.</p> +<p>“If you don’t hear anything of me for a few days +you’ll know I’m out of London....” He looked at +Esther, but she was kneeling down by the fire stroking +Charlie.</p> +<p>“Out of London!” June said in surprise. “Where are +you going?”</p> +<p>Micky cleared his throat.</p> +<p>“I thought of running over to Paris for a day or two,” +he said.</p> +<p>“Paris!” They were both looking at him now. Micky +was painfully aware of the eagerness in Esther’s face.</p> +<p>“Yes; I haven’t been since September. Anything I +can do for you while I’m there?”</p> +<p>June raised her brows comically.</p> +<p>“Not for me, but perhaps Esther ... Esther has +a great friend over there, haven’t you, my child?”</p> +<p>Esther turned crimson from chin to brow.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mellowes is not at all likely to meet any friend +of mine,” she said stiffly.</p> +<p>Micky felt horribly sorry for her.</p> +<p>“Don’t be too sure, Miss Shepstone,” he said lightly. +“It’s a small world, you know, and it’s the most unexpected +things that happen.”</p> +<p>But Esther seemed not to have heard.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII' id='CHAPTER_XIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky went to Paris. “No, I shan’t want you, +Driver,” he told his man awkwardly. “I’m only +going for a day or two. I––er––I shan’t want +you,” he said again lamely.</p> +<p>He looked at the man guiltily, but Driver was as impassive +as ever. “Very good, sir,” he said. He could +not understand what had happened to Micky; as a rule, +he refused even to take his own railway ticket or speak +to a porter. This new independence worried him.</p> +<p>But Micky went off cheerfully enough. He rang June +up at her club the morning he started and told her he +was really going. He heard her cheery laugh across the +telephone. “Micky, you’re not up to any mischief?”</p> +<p>“As if I should be!” he answered with dignity.</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t trust you,” she said promptly. “However, +have a good time, and if you see the phantom lover, you +might push him into the Seine for me.”</p> +<p>“I’ll remember,” Micky said grimly. He hesitated. +“Everything all right?” he asked.</p> +<p>She echoed his words, not understanding. “Everything +all right? Do you mean the swindle? Oh, yes, it’s going +fine, thank you. I had another order from those American +export people this morning.”</p> +<p>“Good.... And––Miss Shepstone gone?”</p> +<p>“No, she’s going on Saturday. Sickening, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“I don’t think she’ll stay long,” Micky said soothingly. +“It won’t do her any harm to see how she likes it. Well, +good-bye.”</p> +<p>He stood for a moment after he had hung up the receiver, +staring at it. He wished he had not arranged +to go to Paris. Supposing Ashton took it into his head +to come back while he was away? Supposing he went +home and found Esther there?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></div> +<p>He tried to believe that it was not at all likely, but at +the last moment, as he got into the train and received +his ticket from the solemn Driver, Micky said––</p> +<p>“You know where to find me if anything happens––if +anything should be the matter?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.” Driver raised wooden eyes to his master’s +face. “Was you expecting anything to happen, sir?” +he asked stolidly.</p> +<p>Micky got red. “No, you fool!”</p> +<p>“Very good, sir,” Driver retorted unmoved.</p> +<p>And so Micky went to Paris. It was dark when he +got there, and he drove at once to a small and unpretentious +hotel in a narrow side street, where he had never +been before, but of which he had heard from Philips.</p> +<p>After all, it was only for a few nights. He did not +want to stay in Paris long––Paris always bored him, but +he made a little grimace as he looked up at the windows +of the hotel. It certainly was a rotten-looking little +show, he thought as he followed the concierge into the +hall. This, too, was small and unpretentious, with a polished +floor and wicker chairs scattered about. There +was a kind of winter garden leading from the lounge, +where a few neglected palms and ferns were struggling +for an existence, and the whole place was silent, almost +deserted.</p> +<p>Micky was too late for dinner, but a smiling host, +with a short dark beard, assured him that he could have +a most excellent supper in less time than he would enumerate +of what that supper would consist. Micky said +he didn’t care what it was. He followed his suit-case +up the wide, shallow stairs to a quaint little room with +a low ceiling and polished floor.</p> +<p>He was beginning to feel more at home after all; one +could be quiet here and not be eternally running up +against people whom one knew; he felt more cheerful +when he went down to his supper.</p> +<p>He asked the waiter if there were many people staying +there. His tone of voice sounded as if he sincerely hoped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +there were not, and the waiter tactfully submitted that +the place was almost empty.</p> +<p>Micky proceeded with his supper.</p> +<p>It was nearly ten o’clock, but he went out into the +lounge when he had finished and sat down at a table in +one of the most secluded corners.</p> +<p>There were pen and ink and a supply of hotel note +paper, which Micky looked at with great satisfaction, +before he took up a pen, carefully examined the nib, +squared his elbows and began to write.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“My darling–––”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Micky wrote the words hurriedly and covered them +over with a sheet of blotting paper as if they made him +feel guilty.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“I thought I should have been leaving Paris before now, but +have been delayed. I shall be staying here till the end of the +week and am writing this so that you can let me have a letter +before I leave. I hope you have received both my other letters +safely, and are quite well and as happy as possible, seeing that +we cannot be together–––”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He sat back for a moment and looked at this frowningly, +then he wrote on hurriedly.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“I want you to miss me, you see––I want you to feel as I do, +that there is only one thing to look forward to and that is when +we shall be together again. Dearest, it seems now that I have +never really told you how well I love you. Some day, if all +that I wish for comes true, I will tell you the many things you +would not let me say when we were last together....”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Micky’s pen flew easily enough. For the moment he +had forgotten why and for whom he was writing, and +thought only of Esther as she had looked when he last +saw her with the tears wet on her cheeks.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Write to me as soon as you get this, so that I may have +a letter to take with me when I leave. I shall watch for every +post and count the minutes till it comes. I have arranged with +my bankers to send the money to you every week. Dearest, if +this is not enough, please let me know, and I will send some +more....”</p> +</blockquote> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></div> +<p>Micky scratched out the last five words, finally rewriting +the whole page to add</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“... Let me know and we must see what can be done. +I cannot bear to think that you are wanting anything which it is +in my power to give you. Tell me all about yourself; if you +are well and happy––and how often you think of me. I shall +write again soon, perhaps to-morrow ... and till then, and +for ever, I am always yours, Micky ....”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He added his own signature without noticing it, then +realised what he had done and rewrote the last page in +a panic.</p> +<p>Supposing he had sent it!––it made him hot all over +to think what would have happened. He would have to +be more careful, he told himself severely. He carefully +directed the letter and went out to post it, then he went +to bed in the little room with the low ceiling and lay +awake half the night.</p> +<p>Now the letter had gone he wished he had never sent +it; after all, it was cheating Esther. It was not fair to +make her write to him; he felt that he had behaved like +a cur ... he tossed and turned from side to side. +Perhaps she would not write! He almost hoped she +would not. When at last he dozed off it was almost +daybreak; when he woke it was eleven o’clock and the +sunshine was pouring into his room.</p> +<p>He had a bit of a headache and felt wretched; he drank +four cups of strong coffee and went out.</p> +<p>He avoided the popular thoroughfares; he sauntered +about till lunch time and then went back to the hotel. +Apparently the waiter had spoken the truth when he said +the place was almost empty, for only two of the twenty +tables were occupied beside his own.</p> +<p>Micky felt bored; he made up his mind to tell Philips +what he thought of his recommendation when he got +back to London. He slept all the afternoon, then dressed +and went off to dinner at the hotel where he and Driver +stayed when they were last in Paris. Here at least was +a welcome; most of the waiters recognised him; the attention +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +was excellent, and he got a decent dinner. The +hotel was full, but though Micky looked suspiciously at +every one who came in, he recognised nobody.</p> +<p>He wondered how long he had got to stay in Paris. +Esther could not get his letter and send a reply that +would arrive in less than three days; he calculated that +he could not get back to London before Sunday morning.</p> +<p>And Esther was going to Mrs. Ashton’s on Saturday.</p> +<p>He had just finished his dinner when the swing doors +opened and a man came into the room with a lady in +evening dress.</p> +<p>Micky looked at them, and his heart began to race––for +the man was Raymond Ashton, and the woman, +Tubby Clare’s little widow.</p> +<p>Ashton saw Micky at once, and his face fell into almost +comical lines of dismay, but he pulled himself together +at once and spoke to the woman beside him.</p> +<p>Micky knew Mrs. Clare slightly; he rose and went +towards them.</p> +<p>“I heard you were in Paris,” he said. He shook hands +with Mrs. Clare; she was rather a pretty little woman, +small and plump, with round, meaningless eyes and a +friendly smile.</p> +<p>“We’re going to the opera,” Ashton said. “Mrs. Clare +is not staying here, but she very kindly consented to come +and dine with me. Are you staying here, Micky? When +did you come over?”</p> +<p>“Last night; and I’m not staying here. Just dropped +in for some grub.”</p> +<p>“You’d better dine with us,” Ashton said, but he did +not sound very enthusiastic.</p> +<p>Micky laughed. “Thanks, but I have dined. I was +just leaving when you came in.” He thought of Esther, +and his face hardened. This was the man of whom she +was thinking all day and every day; this man who was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +so obviously going to try and marry Tubby Clare’s little +widow.</p> +<p>He stood talking to them for a few moments, then excused +himself.</p> +<p>“You haven’t told me where you are staying,” Ashton +said.</p> +<p>“No––and I’m going away to-morrow anyway.... +When are you coming back to town?”</p> +<p>Ashton looked quickly at his companion. “Oh, not yet +awhile,” he said.</p> +<p>“I see.” Micky met his eyes steadily. “By the way, +I got your letter,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t +ask about that letter you gave me. I posted it–––”</p> +<p>Raymond turned crimson. “The letter––oh yes, thanks––thanks, +very much. You didn’t take it then?”</p> +<p>“No, I posted it.” Micky’s voice was flinty.</p> +<p>“Er––thanks awfully!” Ashton said again. He twisted +his moustache nervously. “I’ll see you some other time,” +he said with a rush. “I’ll drop you a line.”</p> +<p>“Right oh!” said Micky laconically.</p> +<p>“I hope I shall see you again too, Mr. Mellowes,” Mrs. +Clare said. She thought she was saying the right thing. +She thought these two men were friends, and she was +sufficiently in love with Raymond to wish to be liked by +his friends.</p> +<p>“Thank you, Mrs. Clare,” Micky said stolidly. “But I +am going back to London to-morrow; I am afraid I shall +have very little time, though I should be delighted, of +course–––”</p> +<p>He felt rather sorry for this woman. After all, she +was harmless and good natured, she deserved a better +fate than to be snapped up by a good-looking fortune-hunter.</p> +<p>He was getting into his coat in the lounge when Ashton +came after him. He looked worried and abashed; he +asked a hurried question.</p> +<p>“Everything’s all right, eh, Micky?––Lallie, I mean––I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +thought from the way you looked just now––she––she’s +all right––eh?”</p> +<p>“My dear chap––how should I know? She never answered +my letter, though I sent the money, as you +wished. I thought you would have heard.”</p> +<p>“I told you I didn’t mean to write––I said that I wanted +the whole affair cut out,” Ashton said irritably.</p> +<p>Micky made no response.</p> +<p>“She sure to be all right, anyway,” Ashton said after a +moment. “If she hadn’t I should have heard––eh?”</p> +<p>Micky looked at him coolly.</p> +<p>“You rather sound as if you were expecting to hear +she’d done something foolish––jumped off Waterloo +Bridge or something–––” he said drily.</p> +<p>Ashton laughed. “Well, you never know,” he said +heartlessly. “Women are such queer creatures––and +Lallie was so excitable; she said more than once that +she’d do away with herself––it’s all rot, of course, but +... what did you say?”</p> +<p>“Nothing,” said Micky curtly. “Good-night.” He +turned on his heel and went out.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV' id='CHAPTER_XIV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky stayed in Paris four days; the four longest +days of his life.</p> +<p>He wandered about killing time and wishing +everything and every one at the bottom of the sea.</p> +<p>It seemed impossible that he had ever managed to +have a good time over here––the noise and bustle of the +streets got on his nerves; the things that had always +amused him before bored him and left him cold; he +thought of London with a deadly sort of home-sickness.</p> +<p>Esther did not mean to write to him, he was sure, and +in some ways he hoped she would not; he realised that +he was playing a mean trick on her, cheating her out of +fond words and a love-letter to which he had not the +smallest claim.</p> +<p>He tried to salve his conscience by making up his mind +to leave on the Monday morning whatever happened; if +there was no letter by that time there would never be +one. Esther would have gone to Mrs. Ashton’s. It was +surprising how much he hated the thought of her being +with Raymond’s mother. During the interminable hours +when he walked about Paris trying to kill time he thought +out all manner of possibilities that might result from this +unforeseen contingency. Mrs. Ashton might get fond of +Esther––and if she got fond of Esther, well––who knew +what might happen in the future in spite of Tubby +Clare’s little widow? He had not run across Ashton +again, and he sincerely hoped that he would not.</p> +<p>When Monday morning came he packed his portmanteau +before he left his room––there would be no letter +for him, so he might as well clear out and go home without +making a further fool of himself. There was not +the least hope in his heart when he went to the bureau +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +and asked for letters; the reply came as it had done each +morning: “Nothing for monsieur....”</p> +<p>Micky turned away. He was half way to the dining-room +before it suddenly dawned upon him that they did +not know he was expecting letters in the name of Ashton––that +he had forgotten to tell them. He went back +hurriedly to the bureau.</p> +<p>“Any letters for Ashton?––I am expecting one for a +friend of mine of that name....”</p> +<p>He waited breathlessly while the girl sorted through +the pigeon-holes on the wall; he felt as if he could hardly +breathe when she came back with a grey envelope in her +hand.</p> +<p>“Mais oui....” she said smilingly. “I did not +know it was for monsieur....”</p> +<p>Mickey almost snatched it from her; he had not even +glanced at the writing, but he knew it must be from +Esther. He sat down at the breakfast table with his +thoughts in a whirl; he was sure that the waiter must +know how excited he felt. He ordered coffee and rolls +before he opened the envelope; he laid it down on the +cloth beside him and stared at it very much as a sentimental +girl might stare at her first love-letter, hesitating +to open it, wishing to prolong the ultimate delight.</p> +<p>Finally he cut it open carefully and drew out the contents. +His pulses were racing, he did not know if shame +or delight were the greatest emotion in his heart; he +glanced at the first two words and the blood rushed to +his face.</p> +<p>It seemed almost sacrilege to read what she had written +to the man she loved––he pushed the paper back into +its envelope––he did not look at it again till he had +finished his pretence of a meal, then he took it out with +him into the rather dingy winter garden and sat down in +the quietest corner he could find.</p> +<p>There he faced the greatest moment of his life; as to +whether he should go on with this thing or wipe it out +of his life once and for all.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></div> +<p>Ashton had done with Esther; he was as sure of that +as he was sure that Ashton meant to marry Mrs. Clare. +This being so, was it wrong of him to try and give Esther +some happiness in place of what she had lost? She had +refused to marry him––she had said that she could never +care for him; could he hope to make her change her +mind? In his heart he was sure that he could; he wanted +her so badly that it seemed to him as if the very force +of his desire must compel some return from her.</p> +<p>He sat staring down the dismal garden with moody +eyes. He knew it was a big risk; he thought of her as +he had first seen her and as he had last seen her. He +had never once really thought that she looked happy––she +had never quite lost the shadow in her eyes or the +droop to her lips which he had at first noticed, and he +wanted her to be happy. He wanted her happiness far +more than he wanted his own.</p> +<p>He took the letter from his pocket and looked at the +address on the envelope. “Raymond Ashton, Esq....”</p> +<p>He hated the sight of that name––some day Esther +would hate it too, when she knew how he had deceived +her.</p> +<p>It was a great risk––but ...</p> +<p>“I’ll chance it,” said Mickey under his breath, and +drew out the letter again.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>My Darling Boy</span>,––You can never know how glad and happy +I was to get your letter to-night and to know that I can really +write to you at last. I have been so miserable during these weeks +in spite of all your goodness––and you have been good. It makes +me feel mean and ungrateful now when I remember how horrid +I often was to you before you went away. When you come back +I will make it all up to you, and show you how nice I really can +be, because I do love you––I have never loved any one but you. +Thank you so much for the money you have sent me––I was very +much down on my luck when it came. They haven’t a vacancy +for me just now at Eldred’s, or else they did not want me back, +and I am going to try and find another berth. I am living in a +new boarding-house, as you will see; it’s ever so much nicer than +the Brixton Road, and I shall be able to stay on now you are so +generously sending me money. I have made a nice friend +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +here, too, a girl named June Mason––she tells me that she knows +your mother, and you, too!––I did not let her know how well I +knew you, dear, as I thought perhaps you would rather I said +nothing about it. She has a man friend who sometimes comes to +see her––a Mr. Mellowes––she thinks the world of him, but I +think he is detestable....”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mickey caught his breath hard. After a moment he +went on reading:</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“June tells me he is very rich, and quite a ‘somebody,’ but I +cannot see anything out of the ordinary about him, and he isn’t a +bit good looking. He knows you, too––but he does not say much +about you. Dearest, it seems such a long time since I saw you––and +I cannot help wondering if you really miss me and want me +as much as I want you.... Sometimes I would give just +anything to lay my head on your shoulder and say how much I +love you. I’m very lonely, really; though June is so kind she +isn’t any one of my very own, is she? And now I wonder if you +will be very angry with me if I ask you something? I don’t +think I should have dared to, only your last letters have been so +dear and kind. Raymond, why can’t I come out to you and be +with you? We could get married, and we should be ever so happy +even if we have to be poor––at least, I know I could, and from +your letters, somehow I think it sounds as if you, too, have realised +that there isn’t much happiness away from me. I have had +the offer of a good post––I won’t tell you what it is, as I want +it to be a surprise to you if I do take it. But if you would like +me to come, I will just leave everything and come to you. Couldn’t +you send me a wire when you get this letter? I shall be longing +and waiting to hear from you. I am a little bit afraid in my +heart, really, now I have written this, but your last letter is lying +beside me, and I keep peeping at it and reading what you say +there, and somehow I feel that it’s going to be all right.––</p> +<p class='ralign'>With all my love for ever and ever, <span class='smcap'>Lallie</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mickey sat there staring down at her signature a long +time after he had reached the end.</p> +<p>Then he moved slowly as if it cost him an effort. He +was rather pale now, and there was a hard line round +his mouth. So that was how she thought of him! Somehow +he had not imagined how much it would hurt to +read the fond words and to know all the time that they +were written to another man. And to a man so unworthy! +He thought of Ashton as he had seen him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +three nights ago with Mrs. Clare; of his callous questioning +about Esther; of his almost brutal remarks, and +it made his blood boil.</p> +<p>He could picture her so well––waiting for a wire that +would never come.</p> +<p>He hated Ashton at that moment. His brows almost +met above his eyes in a scowl as he went up to the bureau +and asked for his bill. The smiling French girl sobered +a little meeting his gaze; for once she did not dare to +smile or dimple; she gave him his account silently.</p> +<p>“Ah, but they are funny, these English;” she told her +father afterwards. “To-day he had no smile, the tall +monsieur––not even one little smile!”</p> +<p>She watched Micky across the lounge with interested +eyes as he sat down at one of the tables and proceeded to +write a letter. It took him a long time, and twice she +saw that he tore up what he had written and flung it +into the wastepaper basket, but at last he had finished, +and getting up, stalked away.</p> +<p>Celeste ventured out then––there was nobody about, +and tiptoeing across the lounge, took the torn papers +from the paper-basket. They were torn across and +across, but on one or two slips the writing was visible, +and she carried them back with her to the shelter of the +bureau.</p> +<p>She spread them out on the desk before her, carefully +piecing them together. She knew English quite well, +and she soon made out one sentence:––</p> +<p>“It is not that I do not love you––I have never loved +you better than at this moment––but....”</p> +<p>Celeste was sentimental. She gave a big sigh of +sympathy for the big Englishman. “No wonder he has +no smile!” she told herself. “<i>C’est si triste!</i>”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV' id='CHAPTER_XV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +</div> +<p>It was raining and miserable when Micky arrived in +London. The roads were wet and slippery, and every +taxi and omnibus splashed pedestrians with mud.</p> +<p>Micky shivered as he stood waiting while a porter +lugged his traps down from the rack. He had felt +depressed in Paris, but now London seemed a thousand +times worse. The sight of Driver waiting on the platform +annoyed him. He answered the man’s stolid greeting +snappishly. He had wanted to come home, and yet +now he was here he wished himself a thousand miles +away. He leaned back in a corner of the taxi and shut +his eyes.</p> +<p>The last four days had got on his nerves; Esther’s +letter in his pocket was like an eternal reproach.</p> +<p>Why had he come back at all? She did not want +him––nobody wanted him in the whole forsaken world. +The silence of his flat seemed a thing to be dreaded in +his present mood. Driver’s inscrutable face would, he +felt, drive him mad. With sudden impulse he leaned +forward and called to the chauffeur, “Stop––I’ve changed +my mind––drive me back to the Savoy....”</p> +<p>There would be life there, at any rate––life and people +and music––something to make a man forget the depression +that sat like a ton weight on his shoulders.</p> +<p>He felt utterly at a loose end; he stalked moodily into +the lounge. There were many people there, girls in pretty +dinner frocks, with their attendant cavaliers. Micky +glanced at none of them, till suddenly a girl who had +been sitting on a couch listening rather listlessly to the +conversation of a youth beside her, rose to her feet when +she saw Micky, the hot colour flying to her cheeks.</p> +<p>For a moment she hesitated, waiting for him to look +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +at her, to speak––but Micky had stalked by without turning +his eyes, and after the barest second she followed +and touched his arm.</p> +<p>“Micky....” she said breathlessly, and again +“Micky,” with an odd little catch in her voice.</p> +<p>Micky turned as if he had been shot, then stopped +dead, colouring up to the roots of his hair, for the girl +was Marie Deland.</p> +<p>She smiled tremulously, reading the distress in his +eyes.</p> +<p>“I thought I was never going to see you any more,” +she said. She tried hard to speak casually, but her voice +quivered a little. “Where have you been hiding all this +time, Micky?”</p> +<p>Micky stammered out that he really didn’t know––that +he’d only just come back from Paris––that he did +call to see her one night, but that they told him she +wasn’t in. She broke in there impetuously––</p> +<p>“I know; I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my fault. I was +there all the time. Mother–––” She stopped, biting her +lip, but there was no need to explain further. Micky +could well imagine that it was by Mrs. Deland’s orders +that the butler had said “Not at home.”</p> +<p>His heart was full of remorse as he looked down at +Marie. Such a little while ago he had thought of her +as his wife. He had fully meant to marry her.</p> +<p>He broke out again agitatedly––</p> +<p>“I know you must think I’m an awful sweep. I––I––oh, +I can’t explain.” He glanced past her to where the +rather vapid-looking youth to whom she had been speaking +sat tugging at an incipient moustache.</p> +<p>“What are you doing here?” he asked again. “Who +are you with?”</p> +<p>She told him that she was with her married sister +and some friends.</p> +<p>“We’re going to have dinner here,” she said. She +was longing to ask Micky to dine with them, but was +obviously afraid to do so.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span></div> +<p>After a moment––</p> +<p>“I suppose I ought to be going,” she said. “Violet +will wonder where I am, Micky.” She looked up at him +with abashed eyes. “I––I suppose––you wouldn’t––will +you come out to tea with me to-morrow?”</p> +<p>Micky’s face reflected the flush in her own; he looked +away in miserable embarrassment. He knew that she +felt the same towards him as she had done before that +memorable New Year’s Eve, and he knew that whatever +happened now he could never feel the same to her any +more.</p> +<p>He answered that he would be pleased, very pleased. +Where should he meet her––or should he call for her?</p> +<p>“I’ll meet you,” she said quickly. “You know where +we always used to go––I’ll be there at four, Micky.”</p> +<p>She put out her hand and Micky was forced to take +it; he felt how her fingers shook in his, and he cursed +himself for a brute as he turned away and left her.</p> +<p>In a way he was glad they had met. Any other +woman would have given him the snubbing which he +knew he so richly deserved. Deep down in his heart he +wished that she had done so; anything would have been +easier to meet than this trembling overture of friendship. +He knew that the little abashed expression in Marie’s +dark eyes could only mean one thing, that he had cut +her to the soul and that she still cared for him.</p> +<p>He left the Savoy without having any dinner; he +went back to his rooms, where the imperturbable Driver +was brushing and refolding his master’s clothes. It had +almost broken Driver’s heart to see the way in which +Micky had packed his things; he raised eyes of wooden +reproach as Micky entered the room.</p> +<p>There was a pile of letters on the table. Micky flicked +them through carelessly; nothing of interest––a few bills +and a good many invitations; nothing from Esther––not +even a note from June.</p> +<p>He sat down by the fire and proceeded to cut the +many envelopes open. He kept thinking of Marie and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +wondering if it would be kinder not to meet her to-morrow, +after all; if he could possibly write her a note that +would tactfully explain the situation.</p> +<p>He just glanced at each of the notes as he opened +them, and let them drop to the carpet at his feet. They +could be answered later; there was nothing of importance, +nothing he ... his attention was arrested:––</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Dear Mr. Mellowes</span>,––I wonder if it will be asking too much +of you to come round and see me one afternoon for half an +hour?––</p> +<p class='ralign'>Yours sincerely, <span class='smcap'>Laura Ashton</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Micky glanced quickly at the address at the top of +the paper––it was from Raymond’s mother.</p> +<p>What in the world could she want with him, he +wondered blankly. He looked across at Driver.</p> +<p>“This note––the one that came by hand––when did +it come?” he asked.</p> +<p>Driver replied that it had been there for two days. +He waited a moment, then went on brushing Micky’s +coat.</p> +<p>Micky felt rather disturbed.</p> +<p>Raymond’s mother! What in the wide world could +she want with him? Supposing it were anything to do +with Esther ...</p> +<p>He wrote a note in reply at once and said he would +call the following afternoon; he could just look in early +for half an hour and go on afterwards to meet Marie; +it was strange how he dreaded both these appointments.</p> +<p>He felt ridiculously nervous when he reached Mrs. +Ashton’s house. For the first time it occurred to him +that possibly Esther would be here too.</p> +<p>He was kept waiting some minutes in the drawing +room––minutes during which he wandered restlessly +about staring at the pictures and the photographs.</p> +<p>There were many portraits of Raymond––Raymond +at all stages of his chequered career, smiling and handsome. +Micky turned his back on them with a feeling +of disgust.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span></div> +<p>The door opened behind him, and, turning sharply, +he found himself face to face with Mrs. Ashton.</p> +<p>She came forward with outstretched hand.</p> +<p>“This is kind of you, Mr. Mellowes. I did not know +you had been away till I got your note this morning. +I was wondering why I had had no reply to mine.”</p> +<p>Micky blurted out that he had been in Paris––that he +only came back yesterday evening.</p> +<p>Mrs. Ashton’s face changed a little.</p> +<p>“Paris! Have you been with that son of mine?” +she asked sharply.</p> +<p>Micky coloured. “I met him––quite by chance, though. +We were not together more than a few minutes.”</p> +<p>She smiled rather ironically.</p> +<p>“Have you got tired of him at last, then?” she asked. +She moved over to the fire. She looked back at Micky +quizzically. “I have often wondered how you put up +with his friendship so long, Mr. Mellowes,” she added +rather sadly.</p> +<p>Micky felt embarrassed. He had always liked Mrs. +Ashton. He stammered out that he and Raymond had +always been very good friends.</p> +<p>She drew her chair a little closer to the fire.</p> +<p>“Very well––then, perhaps, you will be kind enough +to answer a question I am going to ask you. Mr. Mellowes, +what was the name of that girl at Eldred’s whom +Raymond was always about with before Christmas?”</p> +<p>The question was so unexpected that Micky was utterly +taken aback. Before he was aware of it he had told a +lie.</p> +<p>“I don’t know––at least, he always spoke of her as +‘Lallie.’ I never once saw him with her, Mrs. Ashton––he +never introduced me to her.”</p> +<p>She looked rather incredulous.</p> +<p>“And yet you were such friends,” she said.</p> +<p>Micky coloured.</p> +<p>“Our tastes were not always identical,” he said rather +stiffly. “I am not very interested in women, and he–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<p>“And he is,” she finished for him. “There is no need +to tell me that––I know my son. So you cannot tell +me the name of this girl? I had hoped that you would +be able to do so.”</p> +<p>Micky met her eyes unflinchingly.</p> +<p>“I dare say I could find out,” he said. “If she is +still at Eldred’s.”</p> +<p>“She is not there.” Mrs. Ashton looked up at Micky +with an anxious line between her handsome eyes. “Mr. +Mellowes, I have always prided myself on my sense of +justice, and somehow lately I have got an uncomfortable +feeling that when I forbade Raymond to have anything +more to do with that girl it would have been better if +I had advised her to have nothing more to do with him. +He is my son, and perhaps it seems strange for me to +speak about him like that, but you cannot have been +friends with him all these months without finding him +out, so I need not apologise. Raymond is just his father +over again....” She paused, and a painful little +smile curved her lips.</p> +<p>She looked at Micky rather pathetically. “There is no +need for me to say any more, is there?” she asked.</p> +<p>Micky did not answer. He had heard many stories +about Raymond’s father, all more or less unsavoury, and +he knew that from all accounts Mrs. Ashton had been +greatly to be pitied during his lifetime.</p> +<p>“So if you can’t help me in this,” she went on +presently, “I am afraid I have brought you here for +nothing. I want to find out who this girl is, and see +her for myself.” She paused, but Micky’s face was +inscrutable.</p> +<p>In his heart he was convinced that she did not believe +him, but he had no intention of telling her Esther’s +name; he longed to know if Esther were in the house, +but, of course, it was impossible to ask.</p> +<p>It almost seemed as if Mrs. Ashton could read his +thoughts, for she said suddenly––</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></div> +<p>“Do you know, Mr. Mellowes, that I am going to +have a companion?”</p> +<p>Micky echoed her last word vacantly.</p> +<p>“Companion?––I––er....”</p> +<p>“Yes, a girl,” Mrs. Ashton went on; “I have always +envied people with daughters; a daughter is so much +more to a mother than a son; but as I was not fortunate +enough to have one of my own I am going to try having +a companion. Raymond will be annoyed, I dare say––he +has always pooh-poohed the idea when I have mentioned +it to him, but now–––” she shrugged her shoulders +and sighed impatiently. “Well, he can no longer +object, I think, seeing that he is to be married himself....”</p> +<p>Micky made a little quick movement, almost knocking +over a vase of flowers standing at his elbow; he +recovered himself with an effort.</p> +<p>“Married?” he said. “Why, I thought....” he +broke off. “He did not say anything about it to me +when I met him in Paris,” he said lamely.</p> +<p>“No?” Her handsome eyes searched his agitated face +critically. “Well, he is to be married all the same,” +she said. “I heard from him only this morning. He +is engaged to Tom Clare’s widow––Tubby Clare, I +believe he was always called.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI' id='CHAPTER_XVI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +</div> +<p>When Micky left Mrs. Ashton he raced off to +meet Marie.</p> +<p>She was looking quite her prettiest, in dark +furs with a bunch of violets in the breast of her coat, +but Micky would not have noticed if she had been +shabby, his thoughts were elsewhere. He did not even +see that she wore the bracelet he had given her for a +Christmas present, or remember that he had once told +her violets were his favourite flowers.</p> +<p>He apologised breathlessly for being late.</p> +<p>“I had an appointment,” he explained. “Raymond’s +mother; she wrote and asked me to call this afternoon.” +He hesitated, then added, “Did you know that Raymond +is going to be married? Oh, but, of course, you cannot +know, as Mrs. Ashton only knew this morning.”</p> +<p>Marie’s dark eyes opened; like most women, she +loved to hear of an engagement or marriage.</p> +<p>“Really?” she said. “At last!––not to––surely not to +that little girl at Eldred’s?”</p> +<p>Micky flushed angrily. Did every one know about +Esther? he asked himself savagely. He answered shortly +that it was to Mrs. Clare, Tubby Clare’s little widow.</p> +<p>Marie looked amazed.</p> +<p>“But we all thought–––” she said, then stopped, +remembering that Micky and Raymond had been great +friends. “I hope he’ll be happy,” she said lamely.</p> +<p>Micky laughed shortly.</p> +<p>“I don’t,” he said. “He doesn’t deserve to be.”</p> +<p>She made no comment.</p> +<p>There was an excited flush in her cheeks, and a nervous +note in her voice when she spoke; it was like old times +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +to be here with him again, until she met his eyes across +the little table, and then it seemed as if she were looking +into the face of a stranger, a man who was like Micky––enough +like him to hurt, and yet not Micky at all.</p> +<p>She aroused herself to amuse him. Micky had always +told her she cheered him up in the old days, but this +afternoon he answered her in monosyllables, and she +saw with bitter mortification how often he looked at the +clock. At last she was driven to remark on it.</p> +<p>“Micky, are you in a hurry to get away?”</p> +<p>She asked the question lightly, but there was a strained +note in her voice.</p> +<p>Micky did not look at her.</p> +<p>“No––no, not at all,” he said hurriedly. “But I suppose +we ought to be moving soon....” There was +a little pause. “It’s been nice seeing you again,” he +added with an effort.</p> +<p>She sat staring down at her plate. Her pretty colour +had faded; she was very pale, and she bit her lip hard +to hide its trembling.</p> +<p>Suddenly she looked up at him.</p> +<p>“Micky––may I ask you a question?...”</p> +<p>“A hundred if you like.”</p> +<p>She picked up a teaspoon and twisted it nervously. +Micky watched her with apprehension; he knew what +was coming, and his heart sank.</p> +<p>If only she would be content to leave things as they +were; if only she would accept the friendship he was +willing to give and close the book of the past for ever.</p> +<p>He did not understand that it was because she cared +for him so much that at the risk of losing her self-respect +and pride she must ask him for the truth, must +know ...</p> +<p>He heard her catch her breath, then suddenly she +spoke:</p> +<p>“Micky ... why was it? What have I done?”</p> +<p>There was a quiver in her voice that set him on edge; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +he could not stand the sound of unhappiness in any +woman’s voice, and he had once thought he loved +Marie....</p> +<p>He answered without looking at her, realising that +it was kinder to tell the truth out and have done with +it.</p> +<p>“I meant to have written to you––I hope some day +you will try and forgive me, but ... but....” +He could not go on for the life of him, but he had said +enough, and he knew that she understood.</p> +<p>“You mean ... you mean that there is some one +else?” she asked with stiff lips.</p> +<p>“Yes.” He looked at her white, stricken face, and +felt himself a brute.</p> +<p>It seemed an eternity before she could steady her +voice enough to speak.</p> +<p>“Is it––is it some one I know?”</p> +<p>“No, dear,” said Micky very gently. “It isn’t any +one you have ever seen–––”</p> +<p>She picked up her big muff suddenly and held it so +that her face was hidden; the little word of endearment +that had escaped Micky’s lips had almost broken her +down. This was the end of all she had ever hoped for, +and for the moment she could not choke the anguish in +her heart.</p> +<p>The following silence seemed unending; then she +looked round for her gloves, and put them on, buttoning +them with shaking fingers.</p> +<p>“I am ready if you are,” she said. She did not look +at him, but it felt like dying to walk beside him out +of the shop and into the cold air and know that perhaps +this was the last time they would ever be alone, he and +she. Once her steps faltered a little, and Micky put +out his hand to steady her, but she drew away from him.</p> +<p>“Please don’t,” she said in a whisper.</p> +<p>There was a taxi waiting at the roadside, and Micky +called to the man. There was a slight cold drizzle of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +rain falling as he held open the door. He would have +followed but she stopped him. “I should like to go +alone, if you don’t mind.”</p> +<p>He looked up, and for a moment he saw her face in +the light of the taxi lamp; such a white, quivering face +it was.</p> +<p>“Marie!...” said Micky in a choked voice, but +she waved him away.</p> +<p>He stood there on the kerb till the taxi had whirled +out of sight, and once again he asked himself desperately +if it were all worth while, if he were not throwing away +the real thing for a chimera.</p> +<p>There was probably a no more unhappy man in London +at that moment than Micky Mellowes.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII' id='CHAPTER_XVII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther had spent a week indoors with a cold, +and it was the longest she could ever remember. +June was kindness itself, and fussed and petted +and made much of her, but the days dragged.</p> +<p>There was only one thing to live for––the post! And +though the rat-tat rang through the house three or four +times a day, there was never anything for Esther.</p> +<p>Her own letter to Paris remained unanswered. The +telegram for which she longed never came.</p> +<p>June watched her with a mixture of sympathy and +impatience.</p> +<p>What was the good of putting all one’s eggs in the +same basket? she asked herself crossly. What was the +good of falling in love if nothing better than unhappiness +ever came of it? She began to hate the phantom +lover, as she called him, with increased hatred.</p> +<p>“I don’t think you’re strong enough to go yet, you +know,” she said to Esther one afternoon when they were +sitting together in the firelight. “Write and tell Mrs. +Ashton you can’t come for another week, or that you +can’t go at all. I do wish you would.”</p> +<p>Esther shook her head.</p> +<p>“I promised to go, and I must do something. I shall +be all right by Monday. Mrs. Ashton has waited long +enough as it is.”</p> +<p>She looked pale and ill, June thought angrily, and +put it all down to “that man.”</p> +<p>“Has Mr. Mellowes come back from Paris yet?” +Esther asked suddenly. June was faintly amazed; Esther +never spoke of Micky. She answered rather dubiously +that she did not know.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div> +<p>“I expect he’s having such a good time that he’ll stay +for weeks,” she added. “I wish he would come back, +I want him to get on with my business....”</p> +<p>“Mr. Mellowes....” announced Lydia at the door.</p> +<p>June scrambled to her feet with a scream of delight.</p> +<p>“Micky! you villain! we were just talking about you. +When did you come back? Why haven’t you been before? +What have you been doing?”</p> +<p>She dragged him over to the fire; she fussed over him +and told him he was just in time for tea.</p> +<p>“Esther’s been indoors a week with a cold,” she explained. +“No, don’t you get up, Esther. Micky won’t +mind....” She pushed Esther back amongst the +sofa pillows. “Poor darling! She’s really been quite ill,” +she declared.</p> +<p>Micky said formally that he was sorry that she was +not well, but that the weather was enough to kill anybody; +he added that he had been in town since Sunday, +but ...</p> +<p>“Four days, and you’ve not been to see me!” said June. +“What a shame, to neglect us so!”</p> +<p>“I’ve been busy,” Micky defended himself; “I expected +to hear you had gone to Mrs. Ashton’s,” he said to +Esther.</p> +<p>She raised her eyes.</p> +<p>“No––I am going on Monday.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Micky blankly.</p> +<p>June had opened the door and was calling over the +balusters to Lydia for hot water.</p> +<p>“And bring lots of it,” she said. “We’re thirsty....” +She came back into the room. “The postman’s just +come,” she said with a nod and a smile to Esther. “Lydia +will bring our letters up if there are any.” She turned +again to Micky. “Well, truant! And what have you +been doing? Having a good time?”</p> +<p>“No, I have not,” Micky said decidedly. “Paris is +not what it used to be, or I am not!” He laughed. +“How’s the swindle?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span></div> +<p>June began to answer, but stopped as Lydia came into +the room. She brought a jug of hot water. June danced +up to her.</p> +<p>“No letters? I thought I heard the postman.”</p> +<p>“One for Miss Shepstone,” Lydia said smilingly.</p> +<p>Micky looked across at Esther––her whole face was +transformed as she turned eagerly with outstretched +hand.</p> +<p>There was a moment of silence, then she gave a little +sigh of utter contentment. June sniffed inelegantly––Micky +looked hard into the fire; his heart was thumping; +that letter ought to have been delivered yesterday, he +knew; it was cursed bad luck that it should arrive while +he was here.</p> +<p>There was a little silence in the room while Esther +opened it. She seemed to have forgotten that she was +not alone. Her pale cheeks were flushed and her whole +face tremulous.</p> +<p>June was bustling about, making a great clatter with +the teacups. Micky got up and began to prowl round +the room; his nerves felt jumpy. Because he knew so +well who had written that letter he was sure every one +else must know it too. Presently June nudged him as she +passed. When he looked at her she made a little grimace.</p> +<p>“Isn’t it awful?” she said in a stage whisper.</p> +<p>Micky smiled stiffly.</p> +<p>“Can’t I help get the tea?” he asked. “Toast some +buns or something?”</p> +<p>“There aren’t any to toast,” she told him. “Sit down +and make yourself at home. Esther!”––she raised her +voice elaborately––“are you going to have any tea, my +child?”</p> +<p>Esther had come to the end of her letter; she folded +it hurriedly and put it away; she cast a quick look at +Micky, but he did not see it. June was chattering away.</p> +<p>“So Esther is going on Monday,” she informed Micky, +“and I shall be left once more to my lonesome. I’m +not at all sure that I shall stay on myself,” she added. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +“It’s been so jolly having some one to share this room +with me that I’m not looking forward to my own eternal +company.”</p> +<p>There was a little silence.</p> +<p>“I may not go after all,” Esther said suddenly. There +was a note of nervousness in her voice. She coloured, +meeting June’s amazed eyes.</p> +<p>June screamed.</p> +<p>“Not go! Well, I never!” She sat down in a heap +on the hearthrug staring at Esther. “I never knew such +a girl,” she complained. “Micky, I appeal to you....”</p> +<p>But Micky was not going to be appealed to; he was +stolidly stirring his tea.</p> +<p>“I suppose I can change my mind if I like?” Esther +said.</p> +<p>“Oh, it isn’t you who have changed your mind,” June +cut in ironically. “It’s something that phantom lover +of yours has said in his letter. Own up, now.”</p> +<p>“Well, and if it is?” Esther demurred. “I suppose +he has a right to say what he likes, hasn’t he?” But +she was laughing as she spoke; she felt wonderfully +happy and light-hearted. “I believe you’re jealous,” she +declared.</p> +<p>“Jealous, indeed!” said June indignantly. Then suddenly +she sighed. “Well, perhaps I am; who knows? +What does he say? or mayn’t we ask?”</p> +<p>Micky had stopped stirring his tea; there was a sort +of intentness about his big figure.</p> +<p>Esther looked at him, and suddenly she stiffened.</p> +<p>“Never mind what he says,” she answered defensively.</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>“Oh, all right––sorry if I was inquisitive.” She deliberately +turned and began talking to Micky; Esther was +left to herself, but she did not mind, she had enough +now to think about. The longed-for letter had come +at last.</p> +<p>She woke from her reverie with a start when Micky +rose and said he must be going.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div> +<p>“And don’t you be so long before you come and see +me again,” June said in her downright way. “And don’t +go without that sample, Micky––it will go in your pocket +quite easily.” She darted off to her room to fetch it, +and Micky moved a step nearer to Esther.</p> +<p>“You have had good news?” he said.</p> +<p>She looked up startled.</p> +<p>Micky’s eyes flamed.</p> +<p>“That being so, of course, it is useless for me to ask +if you have changed your mind yet?” he said again.</p> +<p>Esther gave a stifled cry.</p> +<p>“Are you trying to insult me?” she asked under her +breath.</p> +<p>He half smiled.</p> +<p>“I am, if it’s an insult to ask you to marry me.”</p> +<p>There was no time for more. June came back then +with her hands full of samples, which she proceeded to +stuff into Micky’s pocket.</p> +<p>He submitted laughingly.</p> +<p>“Supposing I get run over!” he said resignedly. +“People will think I’ve been robbing a beauty shop.”</p> +<p>“It will be a fine advertisement for me, anyway,” +June declared. “Can’t you see all the halfpenny papers +coming out with great headlines? Tragic Death of a +Young Millionaire! Pockets Stuffed with June Mason’s +Skin Food!” She laughed merrily. “That would be +worth something, eh, Micky?”</p> +<p>“Heartless woman!” he answered. He turned to +Esther. “Good-bye, Miss Shepstone.”</p> +<p>Esther was glad that he did not offer to shake hands +with her; she was glad that June went to see him off. +As soon as the door had closed on them she took her +letter out again; she pressed the paper to her lips.</p> +<p>It was worth waiting for, worth the heartache and +disappointment; she closed her eyes for a moment and +thought of Raymond Ashton. How she must have misjudged +him in the past. It did not seem true now that +they had ever quarrelled, or parted in anger; that she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +had ever been so unhappy that she did not want to +live....</p> +<p>June came running up the stairs; she was singing +cheerily; Esther smiled as she listened ... it must be +wonderful to be always as happy and light-hearted as +June.</p> +<p>“Well, dreamer?” said June. She shut the door with +a little slam and came over to where her friend sat. +“A penny for your thoughts.”</p> +<p>She looked at Esther’s flushed face in the firelight.</p> +<p>“And so everything is all right after all, eh?” she +asked.</p> +<p>Esther nodded.</p> +<p>“And I’m not really going to Mrs. Ashton’s after all,” +she said with a sort of shamefaced delight. “Only I +didn’t want to say so in front of Mr. Mellowes.... +Oh, aren’t you glad?” she asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“My dear, of course I am!” said June heartily. “But +for the life of me I can’t understand how it is that this +man of yours has got such an influence over you. He’s +only got to hold up his little finger and you’re on your +knees. I’m beginning to think he must be a kind of +wonder after all.”</p> +<p>Esther did not answer for a moment.</p> +<p>“No,” she said. “He isn’t at all wonderful, really, +except to me, and––and I love him, you see,” she added +shyly. “I suppose every man is wonderful to the woman +who loves him.”</p> +<p>“Until she’s his wife,” said June tartly. “And then +she thinks he’s all sorts of an idiot, and tells him so.”</p> +<p>But Esther was too happy to take her seriously.</p> +<p>“You’ve never been in love,” she said, “or you wouldn’t +talk like that.”</p> +<p>“And I never wish to be in love, thank you,” said +June. “If you and Micky are samples of objects who +are in love....” She made a little grimace, screwing +up her nose in disgust.</p> +<p>Esther coloured.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></div> +<p>“Micky!” she said, surprised into using his Christian +name. “Is he in love? How do you know he is?”</p> +<p>“I’m not a bat, and I haven’t known Micky years +for nothing. He hasn’t been himself for a long time. +I’ve seen it, though I haven’t said a word. He’s in love +right enough, there can’t be any other explanation, seeing +that he’s too rich to ever be in debt, and they are the +only two things that ever make a man miserable,” she +added.</p> +<p>Esther wondered if June was trying to sound her.</p> +<p>“I don’t know who the wretched female is,” June +went on, puckering her brows. “I’ve tried to guess, but +it’s no good. There was a Miss Deland he used to go +about with at one time, but I know that’s all off.”</p> +<p>“Was he engaged to her?”</p> +<p>“No––not really! But her people wanted it, and Micky +didn’t mind; he’d have drifted into it sure enough if +something very tremendous hadn’t happened to make him +change his mind. I know Micky––he’d have slipped into +matrimony as easily as he gets into a taxi, unless some +one had turned him away from it.” She glanced down +at the letter in Esther’s lap. “Tell me what he says,” +she coaxed. “Take pity on a poor creature who hasn’t +a phantom lover of her own, or a real one either,” she +added laughing.</p> +<p>Esther hesitated.</p> +<p>“I’m never quite sure whether you’re laughing at me +or not,” she said nervously. “I know you don’t mean +to, but–––”</p> +<p>June laid her hand on Esther’s lap.</p> +<p>“I laugh at every one and everything,” she said. “But +it’s only my way, and doesn’t mean anything. Perhaps +I’m a bit jealous––because you love this phantom lover +so much better than you love me,” she added.</p> +<p>Esther drew the letter from its envelope.</p> +<p>“I’ll read you just a few little bits,” she said shyly. +The blood surged into her pretty face.</p> +<p>June leaned back in a corner and closed her eyes. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +held a cigarette between her lips and puffed at it lazily. +There was a little silence; then Esther said suddenly––</p> +<p>“I can’t. It makes me feel too self-conscious. But +he just says that he doesn’t want me to go into any berth +just yet. He says that he may be home very soon +now....”</p> +<p>“Oh!” said June chagrined. “And then, of course, +you’ll be married and live happily ever after....”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Esther. “I hope so.”</p> +<p>June opened her eyes.</p> +<p>Charlie, curled up on his cushion, started to purr lazily. +Presently June flopped down on her knees beside him +and began stroking his head.</p> +<p>“You’ll let me have Charlie when you’re married, won’t +you?” she said suddenly. “I am sure the phantom lover +won’t want him.”</p> +<p>Esther did not answer; she hated herself for remembering +that Raymond had once said he loathed cats.</p> +<p>“I told you how Micky went into a pond after a +drowning kitten, didn’t I?” June asked reminiscently. +“I should have loved him for that alone, if for nothing +else....”</p> +<p>Esther made no comment. She moved a little, and +the letter slipped from her lap to the floor.</p> +<p>June picked it up.</p> +<p>“Or is it sacrilege to touch it?” she asked teasingly. +She laid it on Esther’s lap.</p> +<p>“Well, I couldn’t help seeing the writing,” she said, +after a moment. “And, do you know, it’s awfully like +Micky’s! If I hadn’t known it wasn’t his I should have +declared it was,” she said rather disconnectedly.</p> +<p>Esther grabbed the letter up.</p> +<p>“Well, it isn’t his, anyway,” she said sharply.</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII' id='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther wrote to Mrs. Ashton that same night and +told her she must regretfully decline the offered +position; she gave no reason, but she permitted +herself a little sigh of regret when the letter was dispatched.</p> +<p>She would like to have gone; she would like to have +seen Raymond’s home and to have got to know his +mother, but it was his wish that she should not go.</p> +<p>She tried to believe that she was happy in the knowledge +of his love, but in her heart she knew that she was +restless and dissatisfied.</p> +<p>“If I had something to do I should be ever so much +happier,” she told June again and again, and June quite +agreed.</p> +<p>“It must be awful, killing time,” she said. “When I +think of the life I used to lead at home before I started +trying to improve people’s complexions, I wonder I didn’t +go mad. Nothing but silly tea-parties and scandal.... +Ugh! But all the same Micky and I agreed that you +wouldn’t like being at Mrs. Ashton’s.”</p> +<p>“Micky!” said Esther scornfully. “As if I care what +he thinks....”</p> +<p>June looked mildly amazed.</p> +<p>“Oh, all right,” she said smoothly. “I suppose I may +mention his name sometimes, mayn’t I?” She began +to laugh. “Do you know that for once in my life I’ve +been totally wrong with regard to you two? I was so +sure you’d more than like each other––I even thought it +quite possible that Micky might fall in love with you––you’re +so exactly suited to him.”</p> +<p>“I’m glad you think so,” said Esther drily. “I’m sorry +I can’t oblige you by agreeing.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></div> +<p>June said “Humph!” She yawned. “All the same,” +she added after a moment, “I’m convinced that things +would have been different if it hadn’t been for that +phantom lover of yours; you’re so crazy about him.” +There was a touch of exasperation in her voice.</p> +<p>Esther flushed angrily.</p> +<p>“It’s absurd of you to talk like this,” she said. “Mr. +Mellowes is the last man on earth I should ever have +looked at, even supposing Raymond....” She had +spoken the name before she was aware of it; in her +momentary flash of temper the secret she had so carefully +guarded escaped her.</p> +<p>It was too late to attempt to cover what she had said; +she knew by the sudden expression of June’s face that +she had heard.</p> +<p>There was a poignant silence, then June sat up with +a little jerk.</p> +<p>“Of course, that’s let the cat out of the bag,” she said +curtly. “And you let me run him down! How mean, +how unutterably mean of you, Esther!... I can’t +think now why I never guessed! Raymond Ashton!”</p> +<p>Esther had flushed scarlet.</p> +<p>“I never said that was his name,” she tried to defend +herself. “It’s purely your imagination. And even supposing +it is, do you think I mind what you say about him, +or Mr. Mellowes either? Neither of you know him as +I do, or you would never say such cruel, wicked things.” +She stopped with a sob in her voice.</p> +<p>“Then it is Raymond Ashton?” June said gently. She +got up and came over to where Esther was sitting. “Oh, +I am sorry I said anything about him!” she cried impulsively. +“You ought to have stopped me. How on +earth was I to know?”</p> +<p>“I don’t care what you said; it’s all untrue,” Esther +protested stormily. “Nothing you could ever say about +him would influence me or make me feel any differently.”</p> +<p>June got up for a cigarette; when she was nonplussed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +she invariably had to smoke; she took several agitated +puffs before she looked at her friend again.</p> +<p>“Well, anything I said was in absolute innocence, you +know that,” she said in distress. “I’d no more idea than +the dead that you and he.... So that’s why he +doesn’t want you to go to his mother?”</p> +<p>“He doesn’t know; I never told him it was to Mrs. +Ashton’s––I just said I had had an offer of a berth. I +suppose you are trying to make out now that he–––”</p> +<p>“Heaven bless the child!” June cried. “I’m not trying +to make out anything! I’m struck all of a heap like! +as Lydia says. So he’s the phantom lover, is he?... +Well––I can’t find any words to suit the case.”</p> +<p>“He’s not a phantom lover,” Esther protested. “He’s +a real lover, a very real lover.”</p> +<p>June stopped and took her hand.</p> +<p>“I’m not going to let you quarrel with me over him, no +matter how badly you want to,” she said. “No man is +worth two friends having a row over. I’m quite prepared +to take him to my arms and love him if you do.... +Oh, Esther, don’t look like that!”</p> +<p>There were tears in Esther’s eyes, and her lips were +trembling. “You’re making fun of me,” she protested. +“It’s unkind of you.”</p> +<p>June turned away; she wondered if perhaps, after all, +she and every one else had thoroughly misunderstood +Raymond, and if this girl’s warm championing of him +was deserved.</p> +<p>“He’s not nearly good enough for her,” she was telling +herself indignantly. “She’ll never really be happy with +him.”</p> +<p>“I hope you won’t tell Mr. Mellowes, or any one else,” +Esther was saying defiantly. “I don’t want my affairs +talked over by every one.”</p> +<p>“I shall not tell any one,” June said quietly.</p> +<p>She stood looking down into the fire, and her face was +troubled.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></div> +<p>Presently she walked to Esther, and, stooping, kissed +her.</p> +<p>“I’m awfully glad I know,” she said. “It makes our +friendship seem so much more real.”</p> +<p>Esther smiled faintly.</p> +<p>But June was ill at ease. She felt instinctively that +things were not all right.</p> +<p>“It isn’t the man himself,” she told herself obstinately. +“It’s some foolish, mistaken ideal of him that she has +created.”</p> +<p>She wondered what he really was doing in Paris. +Micky would know––he and Micky had been such great +friends. There would be no harm in speaking of him +to Micky, at least that would not be betraying any secret +or confidence.</p> +<p>She rang Micky up the following morning. She made +the excuse that she wanted to see him on business. She +took him to lunch at her club.</p> +<p>“You don’t look well,” was her greeting. “What’s +the matter, Micky?”</p> +<p>Micky frowned. If there was one thing he hated it +was for any one to remark on his appearance. He +answered brusquely that he had never been better in +his life.</p> +<p>“By the way, I was going to write when you rang +up,” he said. “I’ve got some tickets for a first night +to-morrow. Would you care to come along and––and +bring Miss Shepstone?”</p> +<p>June beamed. She liked going out with Micky.</p> +<p>“I should love it,” she said with enthusiasm. “I can’t +answer for Esther, though.”</p> +<p>“Try to persuade her,” he urged carelessly. “I don’t +suppose she’s been about much; it would do her good.”</p> +<p>“She told me she loves theatres,” June admitted; “but +the trouble will probably be that she hasn’t got a dress.”</p> +<p>“A dress?” Micky echoed vaguely. “Can’t you lend +her one of yours?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span></div> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>“My dear boy, she’s much taller than me and slimmer. +... However, I’ll see what can be done. Where shall +we meet you?”</p> +<p>“I’ll call for you at seven. We’ll have some grub first.”</p> +<p>“Good! And if Esther won’t come?”</p> +<p>“Oh, well, if she won’t, you come along, of course; +but try and persuade her.”</p> +<p>“She’s refused Mrs. Ashton’s offer, you know,” June +said presently. She kept her eyes lowered; she felt self-conscious +and guilty.</p> +<p>“Has she?” Micky did not sound particularly interested.</p> +<p>“Yes; the phantom lover objected, or something, and +I think it’s just as well.”</p> +<p>“She said something about it when I had tea with you +the other day.”</p> +<p>June nodded.</p> +<p>“So she did. I dare say that wretched Raymond would +have tried to make love to her if she had gone,” she +added deliberately.</p> +<p>“He’s away just now,” Micky said quickly. “I ran +across him when I was over in Paris last week.”</p> +<p>June looked up quickly.</p> +<p>“Did you? What’s he doing there?”</p> +<p>“Nothing particular; he often goes over, you know.”</p> +<p>“I can’t stand that man,” June said, after a moment.</p> +<p>“No?” Micky’s voice was casual.</p> +<p>“I never could see why you were so thick with him,” +she went on.</p> +<p>Micky laughed lazily.</p> +<p>“Perhaps because I haven’t your gift of second sight, +my dear,” he said.</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t have thought it would need second sight +to see what he is,” June declared.</p> +<p>She looked across at Micky and was surprised by the +hard expression of his face. “I hate men who flirt,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +she added. “Micky, do you know that I’ve got a kind +of feeling about Esther’s phantom lover that he doesn’t +really exist?”</p> +<p>Micky sat up with sudden attention.</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” he asked.</p> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders.</p> +<p>“I mean that he isn’t really a tangible man,” she explained +haltingly.</p> +<p>Micky laughed.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, he is,” he said.</p> +<p>June caught her breath.</p> +<p>“You don’t mean––oh, do you mean that you know +him?” she asked excitedly.</p> +<p>Micky met her eyes with a faintly ironical smile in +his own.</p> +<p>“Yes, I know him,” he answered hardily. “And so +do you. My dear, I may be very green, but your careful +questioning wouldn’t deceive a mouse.”</p> +<p>“Micky!” said June indignantly. She flushed all over +her face, and her queer eyes blazed angrily. She really +felt that she had a done a dreadful thing in having +allowed him to guess.</p> +<p>“You needn’t look so upset,” Micky said. “You’ve +not told me anything; I knew it long before you did.”</p> +<p>“When? How––oh, Micky, do tell me!”</p> +<p>“There’s nothing to tell. Ashton often spoke about +her to me. I knew she was at Eldred’s, and––well that’s +all,” he added lamely.</p> +<p>“All!” said June disappointedly. “But surely you know +more than that! What do you think of him? Do you +think he really cares for her? Oh, Micky, do you think +he’s good enough for her?”</p> +<p>Micky looked away.</p> +<p>“I don’t know that it matters very much what I think,” +he said drily. “She––she loves him apparently, and that’s +all that counts, I imagine.”</p> +<p>“Yes, she loves him right enough,” June admitted +gloomily. “It was quite an accident that she told me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +his name, of course, and she made me promise not to +tell any one, particularly you. I suppose because she +knows that you and he were friends.”</p> +<p>“Possibly, if she does know. I rather doubt if Ashton +said much to her about me, though. He used to keep +things to himself a good deal.” He picked up the menu. +“Aren’t you going to have anything more to eat? I +thought you were hungry.”</p> +<p>“I’m not now; I’m too excited. Micky, when you saw +him in Paris, didn’t he say anything, ask you anything? +Oh, it all seems so extraordinary!”</p> +<p>“My dear girl, what could he ask me?” Micky objected +gently. “I never discuss––Miss Shepstone with him, and +he is not in the least likely to tell me his private affairs, +and I’m sure I don’t want to know them.”</p> +<p>June was silent for a moment.</p> +<p>“Esther is laying up trouble for herself,” she said then. +“Don’t you think she is?”</p> +<p>“I haven’t thought about it,” Micky maintained stolidly. +“And if you take my advice, you won’t either. It never +does to meddle with other people’s affairs.”</p> +<p>“But she’s my friend,” June objected hotly. “And do +you mean to say that I have got to stand by and see her +ruin her life?”</p> +<p>Micky shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“She’s not married yet,” he said laconically. “Have +some tipsy cake, will you?”</p> +<p>“No––I don’t want any more.”</p> +<p>“Well, I do. Waitress....”</p> +<p>It was a deliberate attempt to change the conversation, +and June knew it; she sat back in her chair frowning.</p> +<p>She supposed Micky would not talk about Ashton because +he was his friend; men were so absurdly loyal to +one another.</p> +<p>“If you loved Esther as much as I do,” she said suddenly, +“you wouldn’t stand by and say nothing while she +goes and marries that man.”</p> +<p>Micky was prodding the tipsy cake with a fork.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></div> +<p>“She hasn’t married him yet,” he said stoically. “And +if she’s happy–––”</p> +<p>“She isn’t, my good man! at least only in theory!” +June declared. “It’s not Raymond Ashton she really +cares for, but some wonderful person she thinks he is. +She is looking at him through rose-coloured glasses.”</p> +<p>Micky smiled.</p> +<p>“That’s what most women do, isn’t it?” he asked. +“My dear girl, don’t get so upset; I thought you wanted +to bring me out to talk business.”</p> +<p>“This is business, my business at least, even if you’re +not interested. No wonder you didn’t want her to go +to Mrs. Ashton’s!”</p> +<p>Micky coloured.</p> +<p>“Well––I thought it would be better not, certainly.”</p> +<p>June regarded him severely.</p> +<p>“You’re a deep soul,” she said. “I never even guessed +that you knew anything.”</p> +<p>“Why should you? And I don’t know anything. Can’t +we talk about something else?” he asked plaintively.</p> +<p>It was getting on his nerves, this constant conversation +about Esther.</p> +<p>“So you’ll come along to-morrow, eh?” he asked +presently. “It’s a long time since we went for a little +jaunt together.”</p> +<p>“I shall love it.” But June answered absently; her +thoughts were still with Esther.</p> +<p>Silence fell. Micky had finished his tipsy cake and +was leaning back in his chair, a cigarette hanging dejectedly +between his lips. He had lit it, but it had gone +out, and though matches stood beside him he made no +effort to light it again.</p> +<p>June watched him across the table. He didn’t look a +bit well, she thought. What was the matter with him?</p> +<p>“You know, Micky,” she said impulsively, “I had quite +made up my mind that you and Esther were to fall in +love with one another. It would have been ideal, wouldn’t +it?” she asked wickedly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></div> +<p>A little spasm crossed Micky’s face, but it was gone +so quickly June could never be quite sure if she had not +imagined it.</p> +<p>“Ideal,” he said quietly. “Shall we go?”</p> +<p>“I’ll let you know about to-morrow,” June said, as +they parted. “I shall have to wear the same old purple +frock I wore when you took me out last time; you won’t +mind?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit, as long as you come; and ... let me +know about Miss Shepstone. If she won’t come I’ll give +the ticket away.”</p> +<p>“I’ll let you know,” said June vaguely.</p> +<p>She walked home deep in thought. So Micky had +known all along? She was not quite sure that she was +pleased with him for keeping the fact from her. They +had been such pals, he and she; surely he might have +trusted her and told her!</p> +<p>“I suppose I’m not to be trusted with a secret, though,” +she thought with a comical sigh. “Look how easily I +gave Esther’s away!”</p> +<p>Tea was ready when she got in, and Esther and Charlie +sat curled up together in the firelight.</p> +<p>“I’ve got an invitation for us both to-morrow night,” +June said, even as she opened the door.</p> +<p>Esther looked up eagerly; she had had rather a dull +day of it.</p> +<p>“A theatre,” said June. “It’s from Micky. I tell you +at once, so you shan’t throw cold water on it. He’s got +some seats for a first night, and asks us both to go. What +do you say?”</p> +<p>“I haven’t a dress,” said Esther promptly.</p> +<p>“I told him you’d say that,” June answered calmly, +“and he said it didn’t matter––or something to that effect. +Micky never notices what you wear,” she went on airily. +“I’m going to wear an old purple rag that I’ve had for +about forty years.”</p> +<p>Esther laughed. “I dare say I can buy one in time,” +she said; she did not intend Micky to think she could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +not afford a frock. “I think I should rather like to go,” +she added shyly.</p> +<p>“Good!” June hid the amazement she felt. “Well, +Micky’s going to call for us and take us out to dinner +first. It’ll be a scrumptious dinner––Micky always does +the thing in style!”</p> +<p>“It’s kind of him to ask me,” Esther said.</p> +<p>“Why?” June demanded. “Oh, you mean because you +don’t like one another? But that wouldn’t trouble Micky; +he’d take you out if he hated the sight of you, he’s so +kind-hearted.”</p> +<p>“Thank you for a doubtful compliment,” said Esther.</p> +<p>She was making plans rapidly in her mind. Micky +had never seen her well dressed.</p> +<p>“I had another cheque from Raymond this morning,” +she said flushing. “So it will come in useful. I can get +a ready-made frock––I shan’t look so bad.”</p> +<p>“You’ll look an angel whatever you wear,” said June +affectionately. “I know a little woman just off the Brompton +Road who’ll fix you up,” June said eagerly. “She’s +got the tiniest shop, but it’s cram full of the sweetest +things. She’s awfully nice, too.”</p> +<p>“I can’t afford much,” Esther said dubiously.</p> +<p>“She won’t charge you much,” June declared. “She’s +a friend of mine. She has my creams on her counter. +It’s a fine advertisement, you see. She gets lots of +actresses and smart people in, and they ask what it is, +and try a jar and send for more, and, there you +are!”</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“If she’s too expensive–––” she protested.</p> +<p>But she ended by paying much more than she had +originally intended. There was such a gem of a frock––black +velvet and a white transparent bodice.</p> +<p>“You look a duck!” June declared. “Doesn’t she, +Fifine?”</p> +<p>But the mirror told Esther how charming she really +looked without any further words.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span></div> +<p>“I really ought not to have spent so much,” she said +as they went home. “But it is rather nice, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Micky will be absolutely bowled over,” June declared. +“I shall have to take a back seat all the evening.”</p> +<p>And Micky apparently was “bowled over,” judging by +the look that crept into his eyes when he arrived and +found Esther alone in the sitting-room.</p> +<p>June was late, as usual; she called out to him from +her room that she wouldn’t be half a minute.</p> +<p>“There’s no hurry,” Micky answered quickly. He went +over to where Esther stood, a little flushed and shy in +her new frock.</p> +<p>“It’s very kind of you to come,” he said rather agitatedly. +She looked up.</p> +<p>“It’s very kind of you to ask me,” she answered. She +felt much more at her ease with him now. She knew +that she was looking particularly pretty. “And it isn’t +the first time we have had dinner together, is it?” she +asked.</p> +<p>He answered eagerly that he was glad she remembered; +he had almost thought she must have forgotten.</p> +<p>“No, I shall never forget that, though it seems so long +ago since that night. I was unhappy then, but now....”</p> +<p>“But now?” he asked as she paused.</p> +<p>“Now everything has come right,” she told him. “You +said you were sure it would, if you remember.”</p> +<p>His face changed a little.</p> +<p>“I am glad I was such a good prophet,” he said.</p> +<p>June came bustling in; she was flushed and breathless, +and laden with flowers, fan, and gloves, all of which +she dropped to the sofa.</p> +<p>“I’m quite ready. Esther, where’s my cloak? Do find +it, there’s an angel. Oh, and my slippers––I’ve got everything +else....”</p> +<p>But it was at least another ten minutes before they +were in the taxi and racing away through the night.</p> +<p>“I’ve booked a table at Marnio’s,” Micky said. “I hope +you like Marnio’s, June?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span></div> +<p>“I like anything to-night,” she told him. “I’m going +to enjoy myself thoroughly, whatever happens.”</p> +<p>Micky glanced at Esther.</p> +<p>“And you, Miss Shepstone?” he asked rather nervously.</p> +<p>“Esther’s too excited to speak,” June answered for her. +“Oh, are we here already?”</p> +<p>She led the way into the lounge of the big restaurant; +Micky was well known here apparently.</p> +<p>“Every one in London knows Micky,” June whispered +to Esther with a sort of pride. “Look at the attention +he gets!”</p> +<p>Esther glanced at him; probably anybody with Micky’s +money could get the same attention, she thought.</p> +<p>There were a good many people in the lounge; Esther +looked at them interestedly. Some of the women were +beautifully dressed, but the black and white frock held +its own bravely.</p> +<p>“You look nicer than any of them,” June told her. +“I knew––hullo!––Micky’s found a friend.” She looked +across to where he was standing, and Esther followed +her gaze.</p> +<p>Micky was talking to two ladies––one of them was +young and rather pretty, and the other––Esther’s face +flushed suddenly, and she bit her lip hard, for the other +was Mrs. Ashton, Raymond’s mother.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX' id='CHAPTER_XIX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther unconsciously put out her hand and +grasped June’s arm; she would have given anything +had it been possible to run away. She saw Mrs. +Ashton turn and look towards where they were standing, +and in another moment she had crossed the lounge and +was shaking hands with June.</p> +<p>“I was just inviting Mr. Mellowes to come and dine +with us,” she said. “But he tells me he already has an +engagement.” Her eyes smiled at June. “I suppose you +are the engagement?” she submitted.</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>A string band was playing a ragtime tune when they +entered the restaurant. To Esther’s unaccustomed eyes +the room with its flowers and many lights was the most +wonderful place she had ever seen. She kept close to +Micky as he threaded his way through the small tables +till he found their own, rather at the end of the room +and away from the noisy band.</p> +<p>He put Esther into a comfortable chair and himself +took her cloak.</p> +<p>“You don’t mind being left while I go back for June?” +he asked hurriedly; “she seems to have got lost.”</p> +<p>Esther looked after him as he went quickly back down +the length of the room. She liked him in evening dress. +If only it had been Raymond instead!––she stifled a little +sigh; she meant to enjoy herself this evening; she was +not going to allow one single despondent thought.</p> +<p>June and Micky rejoined her almost at once.</p> +<p>“I thought some one had eloped with you,” June said +laughingly. “Where did you get to? Micky, how hot +this room is––I’m just stifling!”</p> +<p>She threw off her wrap and snatched up a paper fan +from the table. Micky sat down between the two girls.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></div> +<p>“Miss Shepstone didn’t want to see Mrs. Ashton, I +rather fancy,” he said coolly. He looked at Esther with +a slight smile in his eyes. “I believe she was afraid Mrs. +Ashton would demand a reason for having had her kind +offer so cavalierly refused,” he went on banteringly.</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“Yes, I believe I was,” she admitted. “I’m an awful +coward over explaining things to people.”</p> +<p>“So am I,” said Micky drily. He was wondering +how he was ever going to explain the most difficult occurrence +of his whole life, and if, when he had done so, it +would ever be believed.</p> +<p>He looked at Esther a great deal during dinner; he +had never seen her so animated; her eyes were sparkling, +and her cheeks were flushed; she talked a great deal, +and was particularly friendly to him; he was quite sorry +when it was time to go on to the theatre.</p> +<p>As they left the restaurant he noticed that she kept +close to him again, and that she looked anxiously round +for Mrs. Ashton.</p> +<p>“It’s all right,” he said. “She’s upstairs in the gallery.”</p> +<p>She smiled. She thought he was very quick to understand +her. Raymond had never seemed to understand +things without an explanation. She wished he had been +rather more like Micky in some ways; she wished––she +looked up at Micky guiltily; how could she compare the +two men?––the one whom she loved, and the other +whom she did not even like!</p> +<p>They were late, and the curtain had risen when they +were shown into their seats. The theatre was dark, and +Esther could hardly see her way. She put out her hand +with a smothered laugh and felt for Micky’s. “I can’t +see,” she said.</p> +<p>His fingers closed about hers; such a little hand it +felt. He wondered why she was being so kind to him +to-night. He did not realise that she was enjoying +herself so much that she felt on good terms with the +whole world.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></div> +<p>Esther sat between him and June, and Micky hardly +looked at the stage at all. His eyes turned again and +again to her rapt face and the eagerness of her eyes.</p> +<p>She had been to theatres lots of times, so she told him +in a whisper, but never in the stalls before. She asked +him if he didn’t like some of the frocks worn by the +people close by.</p> +<p>Micky’s eyes flashed.</p> +<p>“Not so well as yours,” he said.</p> +<p>She drew away from him a little, and he wished he +had not said it. In that one moment he felt that he had +broken down all the friendliness she had shown him that +evening. She did not speak again for some time.</p> +<p>In the interval June leaned over to him.</p> +<p>“Are you bored, Micky? You look bored to death.”</p> +<p>Micky stifled a sigh.</p> +<p>“No,” he said rather wearily.</p> +<p>His eyes wandered round the crowded house. There +were several people in the stalls whom he knew. He +noticed that people were looking at Esther, and he felt +a little thrill of pride.</p> +<p>They were wondering who she was, of course. He +wished with all his heart that he could stand up in his +seat and announce to an interested world that she was +the woman he intended to marry.</p> +<p>When the light went down again Esther leaned a little +closer to him.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mellowes–––” she said.</p> +<p>“Yes.” Micky bent his head towards her eagerly. He +could hear her agitated breathing, hear too the little +quiver in her voice when she spoke.</p> +<p>“Did you see who was in that box on the right?––the +lower box.... I thought it was Mrs. Ashton.”</p> +<p>Micky answered casually that very likely it was.</p> +<p>“Odd, eh,” he said, “that we should dine at the same +place and have tickets for the same show?”</p> +<p>Esther said “Yes––yes” twice in nervous hurry.</p> +<p>There was something strained and unnatural about her, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +and though Micky could not see her face clearly he knew +that something had happened to distress her.</p> +<p>“What is it?” he asked anxiously. “Is anything the +matter?”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“No.... No.”</p> +<p>She sat very still till the curtain fell again, but Micky +had the feeling that she was not paying the least attention +to what was going on on the stage, and he knew that her +eyes turned again and again to the stage box. What +was she afraid of, he asked himself in perplexity, even +if Mrs. Ashton did see her and recognize her, surely––then +in a flash he knew ... the light had been turned +up suddenly, and in that moment he saw the figure of +a man move quickly from the front of the box to the +screen of the curtains.</p> +<p>Micky gripped the arms of his seat; for the moment +he could not move.</p> +<p>It was Raymond––he knew it as certainly as if he had +been told.</p> +<p>No doubt he had seen Esther, whilst she ... poor +child! Had she seen him too?</p> +<p>He looked down at her; she was sitting up stiffly, +her hands clasped in the lap of the new frock of which +she had been so innocently proud; her face was as white +as the soft tulle of her sleeves, and her eyes were fixed +on the box with its velvet curtains where Mrs. Ashton +sat laughing and chatting with a girl in a pink frock.</p> +<p>They both turned from time to time to some one who +stood behind them in the shadow; once the curtains +moved a little and a man’s hand and arm showed distinctly.</p> +<p>Micky could bear it no longer; he touched Esther’s +clasped hands.</p> +<p>“Are you ill?––would you like me to take you out?”</p> +<p>But she shook her head.</p> +<p>“No, no ... please leave me alone.”</p> +<p>June had discovered a friend in a seat a row or two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +ahead with whom she was trying to carry on a conversation; +she had no eyes for Micky or Esther. Micky gave a +sigh of relief when the lights were lowered again; he +could feel all that Esther was suffering, he could put +himself in her place so thoroughly.</p> +<p>If he went round to the box and made sure if it were +Ashton, perhaps that would be the best way; he could +manage to give him the tip then to keep out of the way. +He half rose in his seat, but Esther moved at once, laying +her fingers on his arm.</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t go––don’t leave me here,” she said tremulously.</p> +<p>It was not the man himself she wanted, but his presence +somehow gave her a feeling of confidence; if, indeed, +it was Raymond up there in the box. She tried to argue +herself out of the fancy; he would have let her know if +he had come to London––surely she would have been the +first to whom he would have come; she was mad to ever +think the man up there in the background could be Raymond.</p> +<p>But the conviction was there in her mind.</p> +<p>“It is he––I know it’s he,” something in her heart was +saying over and over again obstinately.</p> +<p>The rest of the play seemed endless; she rose with a +quick breath of thankfulness when it was over.</p> +<p>“You are in a hurry,” June said. “Haven’t you enjoyed +it?”</p> +<p>“Yes, oh yes, but it’s hot––I want to get out.”</p> +<p>Micky was deliberately being as slow as he could––he +blocked the way out obstinately; the stalls were almost +empty when at last they left them.</p> +<p>June touched his arm.</p> +<p>“Micky––is––Esther ill? Look how white she is.”</p> +<p>Esther was some little way ahead of them; she seemed +to be trying to get out as quickly as possible.</p> +<p>“It’s too hot for her, poor darling!” June said. +“Micky–––”</p> +<p>Micky laughed savagely.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></div> +<p>“It’s not that,” he said, “but Ashton was up in that +box with his mother, and she saw him.”</p> +<p>“Micky–––” He silenced her with a frown. He followed +Esther as quickly as he could, but she was outside +in the cold night air before he overtook her. There +was a crowd here too––rows of cars and carriages outside, +and women in thin evening frocks and furs shivering +in the cold wind.</p> +<p>Micky drew Esther’s hand through his arm.</p> +<p>“We shall find our cab this way, I think,” he said +evenly.</p> +<p>He had seen Mrs. Ashton only a few yards away, and +he dreaded every moment that Esther would see her, and +see, too, who was with her.</p> +<p>A sudden block in the crowd momentarily hindered +them, and in that second a man’s light laugh rang out +above the noise and chatter of voices.</p> +<p>Micky felt the girl beside him give a convulsive start. +She tried to drag her fingers from his, but he held them +fast.</p> +<p>The crowd was moving again now; a second, and +Raymond and his mother were lost to sight.</p> +<p>Micky had slipped an arm round Esther; he was white +to the lips. He knew now how near he had been to +discovery and the wreck of all his hopes. He tried to +pretend that he did not understand the cause of her +agitation. He looked down at her.</p> +<p>“Better now you’re in the air?” he asked. “It was hot +in the theatre. I––Esther–––”</p> +<p>She had swung heavily against him, and looking down +in sudden alarm, Micky saw that she had fainted.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX' id='CHAPTER_XX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +</div> +<p>Looking back to that night at the theatre it always +seemed to June Mason that she had been most +extraordinarily blind in not seeing before that it +was Esther for whom Micky Mellowes cared.</p> +<p>One glance at his face as he lifted the girl in his arms +told her more than any words would have done; there +was a sort of indescribable rage and pain in his eyes as +he looked down at the white face lying against his shoulder.</p> +<p>People gathered about them, curious and sympathetic. +June heard some one say that it had been so “deuced +hot in the theatre, no wonder people fainted,” but she +knew all the time that it was nothing to do with the +heat; she stooped mechanically and picked up Esther’s +gloves which had fallen from her nerveless hand before +she followed Micky back into the foyer, where he laid +Esther down on one of the long velvet lounges.</p> +<p>Afterwards she realised that the sudden discovery that +Micky loved her friend had been something of a shock +to her, that she had even been faintly jealous; she did not +want to marry him herself, and yet they had been such +good friends, it gave her an odd little pain to think that +there was somebody else whom he placed a long way +ahead of her in his heart.</p> +<p>Most of the people had gone, one or two of the theatre +attendants lingered; it seemed a long time before Esther +opened her eyes. She lay for a moment, looking vaguely +about her, then her eyes came back to Micky, who was +bending over her, his face scarcely less white than her +own.</p> +<p>She made an effort to lift herself from his arm; then +quite suddenly she burst into tears.</p> +<p>The little sound of sobbing broke the spell that seemed, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +to have held June; she went down on her knees beside +her, both arms round the slender, shaking figure.</p> +<p>Micky had risen to his feet. June glanced up at him.</p> +<p>“Go and find the taxi and leave her to me,” she said +sharply. The look of suffering in his face hurt her. +Micky went out into the cold night bareheaded. He +hardly knew what he was doing. He stood for some +minutes on the path forgetting why he had come out at +all, before some one, jostling against him, brought him +back to a sense of time and place.</p> +<p>He went down the road to look for a taxi. When +he came back Esther was sitting up, wrapped in her +cloak. She was not crying now, but she looked like a +child who wants to cry but is determined not to.</p> +<p>June was standing beside her.</p> +<p>“We’re quite ready,” she said. She kept an arm about +Esther, and Micky followed them silently.</p> +<p>He saw them into the cab, but did not follow. June +asked a sharp question: “Aren’t you coming?”</p> +<p>“No––at least, not if you can manage without me.” +His voice sounded unnerved; he looked away from June +to where Esther was huddled into a corner beside her, +and suddenly, as if urged by an impulse he could not +control, he leaned forward, groped for her hand in the +darkness, and, bending, kissed it passionately.</p> +<p>A moment later he had stepped back and shut the door.</p> +<p>He stood looking after the cab till it vanished round +a corner, then he went back to the theatre for his hat +and coat, and set off again down the road.</p> +<p>He was not conscious of any real emotion; but he +walked swiftly as a man does who has a set purpose, and +he did not stop till he found himself outside the Ashtons’ +house.</p> +<p>It was not far off midnight, but lights burned in many +of the windows, and after a swift glance at the face of +the house he went up the steps and rang the bell.</p> +<p>It was some moments before the door was opened by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +a mildly amazed-looking servant; Micky asked for Mr. +Ashton.</p> +<p>“My name is Mellowes,” he said, as she obviously +hesitated. “If you tell him my name he will see me. I +know he is in, I saw him at the Comedy Theatre +to-night.”</p> +<p>He stepped past the girl into the hall, and after a +slightly scared glance at him she shut the door and +departed upstairs.</p> +<p>A moment later Micky heard Ashton’s voice.</p> +<p>“You old night-bird! What an ungodly hour to call +on any one! I was just going to bed; come in.”</p> +<p>He spoke easily, but there was a slightly anxious look +in his eyes; he led the way into the library.</p> +<p>The fire was nearly out there and the room felt chilly; +he shivered, and, stooping, tried to rake the cinders into +a blaze.</p> +<p>Micky watched him silently; after a moment Ashton +turned.</p> +<p>“Lord, man! what’s the matter? You look as cheerful +as Doomsday.”</p> +<p>Micky was standing stiffly against the table.</p> +<p>“I saw you in the theatre to-night,” he began without +preamble. “I was with Miss Shepstone, and she saw you, +too––at least she believes it was you, and I am going to +tell her that she was mistaken. How soon can you get +out of town and back to Paris?”</p> +<p>Ashton stared; the colour had rushed to his face; +after a moment his eyes fell.</p> +<p>“I don’t know what the devil you’re driving at,” he +said irritably. “I suppose I can come to London without +asking you first, can’t I? And, as for Lallie”––he +grinned nervously––“well, you know as well as I do that +that’s all been off for weeks.”</p> +<p>Micky stood immovable.</p> +<p>“You haven’t answered my question,” he said flintily. +“How soon can you get out of London?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></div> +<p>Ashton swore under his breath.</p> +<p>“I’m dashed if I know what you’re driving at,” he said +sulkily. “If you like to take Lallie to theatres, that’s +your business; she’s a nice little girl, I admit, but–––”</p> +<p>Micky took a step forward.</p> +<p>“If you want to make me forget that this is your +mother’s house, you’re going the right way to do it,” he +said between his teeth. “And I don’t want any of your +bluff. Miss Shepstone thinks she saw you at the Comedy +to-night; she’ll probably write to you or try to see you +in the morning, and you’ve got to be out of London by +then––do you hear?”</p> +<p>Ashton laughed; he shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Must?” he said nastily. “How long have you been +Lallie’s champion?... Oh, all right, all right,” he +broke off hurriedly, as he saw the ugly light in Micky’s +eyes. “But it’s a bit thick, you know,” he resumed injuredly. +“I’ve done with her; you know that. You sent +my letter on to her yourself. It’s absurd if I can’t come +back home for a few days in case she should see me +and get upset. I’m sorry if she’s still fond of me, but, +dash it all–––”</p> +<p>“You haven’t answered my question,” said Micky +again.</p> +<p>He was controlling himself with a mighty effort, but +the veins stood out like cords on his forehead and his +hands were clenched.</p> +<p>The two men looked at one another, and it was Ashton’s +eyes that fell.</p> +<p>“If you’re going to bullyrag me....” he began +blusteringly, “I may as well tell you that I’m not going +back to Paris till I please, and–––”</p> +<p>“Very well,” said Micky. He turned on his heel.</p> +<p>Raymond watched him cross the room anxiously. +When he reached the door he called to him––</p> +<p>“Micky! What the devil are you going to do?”</p> +<p>And Micky answered without turning––</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></div> +<p>“I’m going to tell Mrs. Clare the way you’ve treated +Miss Shepstone, and if she’s half the decent sort I think +she is she’ll throw you overboard as you’ve thrown +scores of others....”</p> +<p>Ashton followed and clutched his arm. “Come back; +don’t be such a firebrand! I’ll go––I’ll clear out by the +first train to-morrow.... I’m sorry if Esther was +upset, but....”</p> +<p>Micky cut him short. “The first train leaves Victoria +at 9.40; I’ll be there to see you off.”</p> +<p>Ashton scowled. “It’s a nice way to treat a friend,” +he grumbled. “If there’s really anything up with Lallie +...”</p> +<p>Micky stood like a statue.</p> +<p>“It’s decent of you to take her out,” Ashton went on +uneasily. “I’m much obliged to you, I’m sure. She’s +never had much of a time. If I’d had any money....”</p> +<p>Micky broke out then. “Oh, hold your infernal +tongue,” he said furiously.</p> +<p>He walked out of the room, shutting the door hard +behind him. He passed the astonished maid in the hall +and let himself out into the night. The blood was pounding +in his veins, he felt in actual need of physical +violence; he did not know how he had managed to keep +his hands off Raymond. He walked on at a furious pace; +presently he laughed with a sort of self-pity.</p> +<p>What was the good of what he had done after all? +At best he had only succeeded in staving off the inevitable +for a little while; Esther would have to know +sooner or later.</p> +<p>Such wasted love it was! All for a man who was not +worth one thought, or even a tear!</p> +<p>When he got back to his rooms he told Driver to call +him early, as he was going to see somebody off by train. +He was at Victoria long before Ashton; the greeting +between the two men was constrained.</p> +<p>“I was going back to-day, anyway,” Ashton said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +jauntily. “I’m going to be married the day after to-morrow–––” +He looked at Micky with triumphant eyes. +“To Mrs. Clare,” he added.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>When Micky got back to his rooms, Driver met him; +Driver with a spark of unwonted animation in his dull +eyes, and who closed the sitting-room door mysteriously +behind him as he came forward.</p> +<p>“If you please, sir––there is a lady to see you.”</p> +<p>“A lady!” said Micky blankly; then he laughed. “Rubbish! +You’re dreaming, man.”</p> +<p>“No sir,” said Driver stolidly.</p> +<p>Micky stared at him for a moment, then he passed him, +and threw open the door of the sitting-room.</p> +<p>It was Esther who rose from a chair by the fire as +he entered.</p> +<p>For an instant Micky was unable to believe his own +eyes, then he shut the door and took a step forward.</p> +<p>“You!” he said. “I never thought....”</p> +<p>She broke in agitatedly.</p> +<p>“Oh, I know; I suppose I shouldn’t have come; I +don’t know what June would say if she knew; but––but +there wasn’t anybody else I could come to, and you +said ... you said....” She flushed up nervously. +“Oh, you did say you would be a friend to me, +didn’t you?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Micky.</p> +<p>He might have reminded her that she had declined his +friendship; he might have reminded her of all the not +very kind things which she had said to him, but it was +such happiness to see her here in his room that he was +in no mood to be critical.</p> +<p>“Do sit down ... there’s no hurry, is there?” +He wanted to put her at her ease; he did not like to +see the nervous agitation in her face; but she shook her +head.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></div> +<p>“I’m not going to stay, only ... only I....” Her +voice changed suddenly. “Oh, Mr. Mellowes, will +you tell me how I can get to Paris?”</p> +<p>“Paris!” Micky echoed the word helplessly. “Paris!” +he said again. For the moment he stared at her with +blank eyes.</p> +<p>She rushed on impetuously.</p> +<p>“I have a friend there––some one I ... some +one I ... oh, it’s the man I’m engaged to, and I +want to see him––I must see him! I’ve got the money +to get there. I hope you don’t think I was going to +ask you to lend me that....” she added in distress.</p> +<p>“Miss Shepstone ... I––I....” Micky was +horribly upset. “I never thought anything of the sort. +And––and even if you were going to ask me, you know +quite well that anything I have, anything....”</p> +<p>She stopped him hurriedly.</p> +<p>“Oh, I know, it’s very kind of you.” Her blue eyes +sought his face with a sort of abasement. “I don’t think +I’ve ever really realised how kind you’ve been to me,” +she said. “But ... but I’ve been so worried and +unhappy ... I––I do hope you’ll forgive me if I +was rude or unkind.”</p> +<p>Micky did not answer; so it had come at last, the +explanations which he had always dreaded; he racked +his brains in vain to think of a way out of it––to make +out the best story he could.</p> +<p>She seemed to realise his perturbation, she came a step +nearer to him.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mellowes,” she said earnestly, “will you tell me +something?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Micky inaudibly, but he did not look at +her.</p> +<p>She looked up at him, trying to see his face before +she asked her question.</p> +<p>“Do you––do you know who the man is that I am +going to marry?”</p> +<p>In the silence that followed her timid question, Micky +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +felt that he lived through years. Should he tell her the +truth, or should he not? Ashton was out of London by +this time; in another forty-eight hours he would be married +to another woman; he raised his head with a sort of +desperation. “No,” he said.</p> +<p>He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that +at least it was substantially the truth; she was not going +to marry Ashton––she never could marry him now.</p> +<p>He heard the sigh of relief she gave.</p> +<p>“I’m glad,” she said. “Somehow, lately, I have thought +that you did know. Mr. Mellowes ... last night ... I +thought I saw him in the theatre last night. +I know now that I was mistaken.” She paused a moment +and looked past him to the window and the cold grey +street outside. “I couldn’t have seen him,” she said +again, as if to convince herself rather than him. “Because +he is in Paris––I found out this morning that he is still +in Paris.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Micky. His voice sounded choked. “And +so––so you want to go out there to him, is that it?”</p> +<p>Her face brightened.</p> +<p>“Yes. I should have told June only––only she isn’t +very sympathetic. You see”––she smiled faintly––“she +hates my ‘phantom lover,’ as she calls him, and so––so I +know she would only do her best to keep me from going +to him; but you–––”</p> +<p>“I am afraid,” said Micky quietly, “that I shall try +and do the same thing.”</p> +<p>He turned and looked at her squarely.</p> +<p>“You’ve never been to Paris,” he said, “and probably +you can’t speak a word of French. You’ve probably +never travelled any distance alone. Miss Shepstone, it’s +impossible for you to go. I am only advising you for +your own good. Why not write to––to––your fiancé and +ask him to make arrangements for you?”</p> +<p>He broke off helplessly. The poor little letter in which +she had already done so lay in his pocket at that moment.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></div> +<p>It turned him sick to think of the tissue of lies and deceit +his own actions were forcing upon him.</p> +<p>“I––I have asked him,” she said almost in a whisper, +“but he said he couldn’t have me––then! But that’s +quite a long time ago,” she added hopefully. “And I +thought if he saw me––if I got there and surprised +him–––”</p> +<p>Micky turned away. He could imagine so well what +would happen if indeed she found Ashton. He walked +over to the window and stood looking into the street +with unseeing eyes.</p> +<p>“Have a little patience,” he said presently. “Take +my advice and stay here. If he––if he can, he will send +for you, I am sure.” She looked up quickly, a spark +of anger in her eyes.</p> +<p>“You sound as if you think that will never be,” she +said sharply.</p> +<p>Micky met her gaze unflinchingly.</p> +<p>“I don’t think anything of the sort. I know––I know +if I were in his place, whoever he is––I should be counting +the moments till I could ... could have you +with me.” He smothered the momentary seriousness of +his words with a little laugh. “And now, after that +pretty compliment, aren’t you going to reward me by +taking my most excellent advice?”</p> +<p>The ghost of a smile crossed her face.</p> +<p>“I wanted you to say something so different,” she told +him wistfully.</p> +<p>“I know––but I’m not going to. Any one would advise +you as I have. It isn’t ... it isn’t that I’m prejudiced, +or anything like that. I would give a great deal +to see you happy. I hope you believe me.”</p> +<p>She sat twisting her hands together nervously. After +a moment she looked up at him.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” she said.</p> +<p>She rose and began to pull on her gloves.</p> +<p>“I hope you don’t think it’s very dreadful of me to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +have come,” she said deprecatingly. “But ... but +this morning, somehow, I felt I must have someone to +talk to––some one to advise me....”</p> +<p>“I am honoured that you came,” said Micky gravely. +Her eyes fell before his.</p> +<p>“And––and you won’t tell June?” she appealed.</p> +<p>He smiled rather sadly.</p> +<p>“I am not likely ever to tell any one,” he said.</p> +<p>“No, I know. Mr. Mellowes”––she held out her hand +to him suddenly, her fair face flushing––“I should like +to take back something I said to you one day. Perhaps +you don’t remember, but I do, and lately––especially since +last night, when you were so kind––I’ve felt that I wasn’t +just to you; and so ... if you will forgive me, I +should like to be friends with you after all.”</p> +<p>She was crimson by the time she had finished, but +Micky took her hand without answering, held it for a +moment, then let it go.</p> +<p>“I suppose I mustn’t offer you anything?” he said +with forced lightness. “No coffee––or tea? It’s cold +out this morning. If you would care for anything, my +man would bring it at once.”</p> +<p>She laughed and shook her head.</p> +<p>“I don’t want anything, thank you.” She looked round +at Micky’s luxuriously furnished room. “Isn’t it beautiful?” +she asked him.</p> +<p>He smiled. “Do you like it? I am glad.”</p> +<p>“I think it’s lovely.” She looked up at him. “I seem +to have been climbing a ladder lately,” she said. “Since +I left that awful place in the Brixton Road––where I +am now is heaps better than that was, but this–––”</p> +<p>Micky was silent. It trembled on his lips to say that +everything he had in the world was hers if only she +would take it, but he knew the utter futility of it. Money +and possessions counted very little with her. She would +not have minded the house in the Brixton Road at all +with the man she loved.</p> +<p>He went downstairs with her.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span></div> +<p>“So we’re really friends now?” he said when he bade +her good-bye. “And you’ll promise to let me advise you +again when you’re not quite sure what you ought to +do?” There was a note of anxiety in his voice.</p> +<p>She flushed nervously.</p> +<p>“It’s kind of you to be interested.” It seemed strange +to her that after all that had happened they should have +so easily got back to their old footing of friendliness. +But Micky was not at all happy. When she had gone +he stood for a long time at the window staring moodily +out.</p> +<p>When Driver brought lunch, he found Micky poring +over a Bradshaw; he spoke to the man with elaborate +carelessness.</p> +<p>“You’ll have to take another trip to Paris––to-morrow +will do.”</p> +<p>“Yes sir.” Driver smoothed a crease in the cloth. “To +post another letter, sir?” he asked expressionlessly.</p> +<p>Micky looked up sharply, but Driver met his eyes +innocently.</p> +<p>Micky coloured.</p> +<p>“No; it isn’t a letter this time,” he said. “It’s to buy +a fur coat.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI' id='CHAPTER_XXI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +</div> +<p>“The phantom lover,” said June Mason lugubriously, +“is certainly turning up trumps.”</p> +<p>It was a week later, and she was giving Micky +tea.</p> +<p>Esther was out. She knew now that it was to see +Esther he came. She was quite reconciled to the fact, +and had got over her first pang of jealousy, but Esther’s +indifference to him enraged her.</p> +<p>“Can’t the girl see what she’s throwing away?” she +asked herself furiously. “What on earth is she made of +that she can’t see what’s waiting for her to take? If +Micky had adored me as he adores her ... well––my +name wouldn’t have been June Mason to-day.”</p> +<p>But she kept such thoughts to herself and treated +Micky very much the same as usual, though unconsciously +there was a slight restraint in her manner, especially +when Esther was present.</p> +<p>“I’m beginning to think that I’ve misjudged our Raymond,” +she went on laughingly. “Perhaps some one has +converted him. Anyway, he’s treating Esther handsomely. +First the money, and last week the fur coat....” +Micky looked up with sudden interest.</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s come, then, has it!” he said eagerly.</p> +<p>“Come! It’s been here two days. How did you +know?” she asked with sudden suspicion.</p> +<p>“I heard you talking about it. Wasn’t it you? No? +Then it must have been Miss Shepstone.”</p> +<p>“I dare say,” said June easily. “I never saw any one +so delighted with a thing as she was with that coat. And +it is a beauty, Micky. I only hope it’s paid for,” she +added practically.</p> +<p>“Why shouldn’t it be paid for?” Micky said.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span></div> +<p>She made a little grimace.</p> +<p>“Because Raymond Ashton never paid for things if +he could help it; and you know he didn’t,” she told him. +“However, as he seems to be a reformed character, we’ll +give him the benefit of the doubt.” Suddenly she began +to laugh. “And that isn’t all,” she said again. “This +morning a collar arrived for that blessed cat–––” She +indicated Charlie sleeping peacefully on the rug. “A +silver collar, too my boy, with Esther’s name on it....”</p> +<p>Micky stooped to examine the collar; his face was red +when, after a moment, he looked up again.</p> +<p>“Esther declares she never told him we’d got a cat,” +June told him doubtfully. “But, of course, she must +have done so or else the man’s got second sight.”</p> +<p>Micky was drinking his tea; he choked suddenly.</p> +<p>A feeling of panic closed upon him. Never told him +she’d got a cat! of course she hadn’t! What a fool he +had been to make such a blunder––what an utter blockhead.</p> +<p>“I expect she did tell him,” he managed to say.</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s what I think.” June lit a cigarette and +passed the lighted match over to Micky.</p> +<p>“Anyway, Esther goes about the place singing all day,” +she added drily. “There’s no doubt at all that she’s up +in the seventh heaven of happiness. Reams of letters +the man writes her. Perhaps, as the novels tell us, love +is a wonderful thing–––” She looked at Micky with a +comical expression in her queer eyes. “I should say it +must be if it’s reformed that man,” she added cynically.</p> +<p>Micky said nothing. He had been very uncomfortable +about things during the last few days. As far as he +could find out, Ashton had not yet been married. Supposing +it had all been bluff when he said he was going to +be married––supposing he turned up again in London?</p> +<p>Micky stayed as long as he could in case Esther came +in; it was only when he began to feel sure that June +knew why he was dragging his visit to such a length that +he said he ought to be going.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></div> +<p>“There’s no hurry,” she said kindly. “Why not wait +till Esther comes in?”</p> +<p>Micky shook his head; he said he couldn’t spare the +time, but in his heart he knew quite well that he intended +to wait.</p> +<p>“I suppose she––er––she never talks any more about +taking a job now, eh?” he asked after a moment.</p> +<p>“No, I don’t think so; that man’s word is law to her, +you know. I believe if he said ‘Come out here and marry +me at once,’ she’d fly off by the next train. As a matter +of fact, I’m expecting something of the sort almost daily.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think she’ll do that,” Micky said. He stood +back to the fire, with his hands in his pockets, staring up +at the ceiling.</p> +<p>“No!” June watched him quizzically. “Do you know, +Micky,” she said at last, “that I consider you’ve altered +a lot lately?”</p> +<p>He swung round at once, and scrutinised himself in +the glass over the mantelshelf.</p> +<p>“For the worse, or the better?” he asked anxiously. +“I know I never was exactly an Adonis.”</p> +<p>She laughed merrily.</p> +<p>“I don’t mean your face, stupid, but yourself. You’re +quieter, you don’t go about so much; in fact”––she challenged +him deliberately––“I believe you’re in love.”</p> +<p>“So I am,” said Micky stolidly.</p> +<p>She pretended not to take him seriously.</p> +<p>“It’s no joking matter––I mean what I say.”</p> +<p>“So do I,” said Micky. He laughed. He came over +to where she was sitting, and stood behind her chair so +that she could not see his face. “I’ve tried to make up +my mind to tell you lots of times,” he said. “But I +thought perhaps you’d have guessed before now....” +He stopped and moved away restlessly.</p> +<p>June sat very still; presently––</p> +<p>“It’s Esther,” she said quietly.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Poor old Micky!...”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span></div> +<p>“You needn’t be sorry for me; I walked into it with +my eyes wide open. I knew she was engaged––I knew +it all the time.”</p> +<p>“And Esther ... does she know? Have you told +her?”</p> +<p>“Yes.... She took it as an insult. Perhaps it +was; I don’t know. You see, I knew she was engaged +to that other fellow.”</p> +<p>“An outsider! who isn’t worth a thought,” June cried +indignantly. “Micky, however could she have refused +you?”</p> +<p>He laughed. He looked down at her with a comical +expression in his eyes.</p> +<p>“She’s not the first woman who’s done that,” he reminded +her.</p> +<p>She sat up with sudden haste.</p> +<p>“That wasn’t anything, but this....”</p> +<p>“This,” said Micky, “isn’t anything either, except on +my side. You always told me that some day I shouldn’t +be able to have what I wanted. You were right.”</p> +<p>“I should like to slap her!” said June viciously.</p> +<p>He laughed outright.</p> +<p>“If you did I should slap you, my dear.” He went +back to his chair by the fire. “It’s only between ourselves, +June,” he said.</p> +<p>“Of course ... and, Micky––do you think she +will marry Ashton?”</p> +<p>Micky did not answer for a moment.</p> +<p>“No,” he said at last. “I don’t think so.”</p> +<p>June stared at him.</p> +<p>“Then––then do you mean–––” But he would not +tell her anything.</p> +<p>“You’ve heard quite enough for one day,” he said +teasingly. “Don’t worry your head about me. I don’t +know why I told you––somehow I thought you’d +guessed.”</p> +<p>June threw her cigarette into the fire.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></div> +<p>“I did. I’ll be honest––I did guess,” she broke off. +“Here is Esther,” she added.</p> +<p>She got up and opened the door.</p> +<p>“The lady with the fur coat,” she announced drily. +“Pray come in, madame!”</p> +<p>“June,” said Esther protestingly.</p> +<p>She seemed to guess who was there. She looked past +her friend at once to Micky.</p> +<p>She coloured faintly as he rose to greet her.</p> +<p>He had not seen her in the fur coat before. The dark +fur suited her fairness admirably; the heavy folds hung +gracefully about her slim figure; her face rose like a +flower from the big, upstanding collar.</p> +<p>“And where have you been all the afternoon?” June +demanded. “We waited tea for you till nearly five.”</p> +<p>Esther made a little grimace. “I’ve had my tea out––with +Mr. Harley.”</p> +<p>“Harley?” said Micky sharply.</p> +<p>June laughed.</p> +<p>“He’s one of the tribe who live here,” she explained. +“He’s a great admirer of Esther’s. And he’s quite a +nice boy too, isn’t he?” she appealed to her friend.</p> +<p>“Very nice,” Esther agreed. “I met him quite by +chance, and so we went and had some tea.”</p> +<p>Micky was frowning; it was odd that he felt more +jealous of this man whom he had never seen than he +had ever done of Ashton. He hated to feel that Esther +had gone out with him wearing her new coat.</p> +<p>He stood by silently while the two girls chattered +together; he felt very much out of it and unwanted.</p> +<p>“I’m glad everybody likes my coat,” Esther said. She +had taken it off and was holding it at arm’s length, +admiring its beauty.</p> +<p>“It was a lovely present, wasn’t it?” She appealed +to Micky.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said.</p> +<p>She laid her cheek to the big, soft collar.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></div> +<p>“It’s something I have wanted all my life,” she told +him.</p> +<p>Micky put out his hand and took it from her. He +hated to see her standing there looking so happy because +she believed it had come from Ashton; he threw it +down on the couch.</p> +<p>“I shall have to be going,” he said abruptly. He shook +hands with June, but he walked out of the room without +speaking to Esther.</p> +<p>“I don’t want any dinner,” he told Driver when he +got in. “I’m going to bed.”</p> +<p>Driver opened his mouth to say something and closed +it again; he brought the evening papers and his master’s +slippers and turned to leave the room. At the door he +stopped and looked back.</p> +<p>“Have you seen the evening paper, sir?” he asked +deprecatingly.</p> +<p>“No,” said Micky. Something in the man’s voice arrested +his attention; he turned in his chair. “Why?” +he asked curtly.</p> +<p>Driver came back a step.</p> +<p>“There’s a notice of Mr. Ashton’s marriage in it, that’s +all, sir,” he said woodenly. “I thought that you’d be +interested.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII' id='CHAPTER_XXII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +</div> +<p>So it had come at last. Micky sat staring down at +the small paragraph which briefly announced the +marriage of Tubby Clare’s wealthy widow to Mr. +Raymond Ashton.</p> +<p>The ceremony, so the paper declared, which had taken +place quietly in Paris would be a complete surprise to +everybody. Mrs. Clare, as all the world knew, inherited +something like £90,000 under the will of her late husband.</p> +<p>Micky whistled softly. Raymond had done well for +himself. He would be able to live in luxury for the +rest of his life; to discharge all his debts, if his wife +chose to allow him to do so; all but one debt––the greatest +of them all, and one which he could never hope to +liquidate––a woman’s broken heart.</p> +<p>Esther––what would she say if she knew? And supposing +she knew now–––! It was quite likely that a copy +of this same paper had fallen into her hands. The +thought turned Micky cold; he looked up hurriedly at the +clock––not yet eight! On what pretext could he go back +to Elphinstone Road?</p> +<p>He threw the paper down and rose to his feet. His +gloves! He would make them the excuse––he could go +back for his gloves. He taxied down the whole way; +he sent his name up to June and waited in the hall. +After a moment she came flying down the stairs.</p> +<p>“Micky! Is anything the matter? What in the +world....”</p> +<p>He explained in stammering haste.</p> +<p>“Have you seen the evening paper? No, well, take +care not to let Miss Shepstone see it. I had to come +back and tell you. Ashton––the damned outsider....” +He ground his teeth.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></div> +<p>“Not dead!” said June with a gasp.</p> +<p>“No––he was married yesterday in Paris.”</p> +<p>June sat down on the bottom stair; she felt as if all +the strength had gone out of her.</p> +<p>“It can’t be true,” she said at last. “Why, she had +a letter from him only yesterday. Are you sure? It +must be another Ashton.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t––I knew it was coming. He’s married Tubby +Clare’s widow––for her money, of course. If Esther +knows....”</p> +<p>“It will break her heart,” said June.</p> +<p>There were footsteps on the landing above; Micky +glanced up hurriedly.</p> +<p>“Can’t we go somewhere and talk? Everybody will +hear if we stay here. Where is Miss Shepstone?”</p> +<p>“She’s in my room; she’s writing to him at this +minute–––” She broke off, drawing in her breath hard. +“Oh, Micky, are you quite, quite sure? I can’t believe +it.” She stared at him for a moment, then she laughed +incredulously. “Why, it’s only three days ago he sent +her that fur coat––and the collar for Charlie. Oh, I’m +sure it’s a mistake!”</p> +<p>“It’s not a mistake,” said Micky fiercely; he looked +away from her. “Confound it, isn’t there a room where +we can go and talk?” he broke out again.</p> +<p>She got up from the stairs and led the way across +the hall.</p> +<p>“There’s the drawing-room. Nobody uses it now because +it’s so cold.” She opened the door and peeped +in. “There’s nobody there.”</p> +<p>Micky followed her, shutting the door behind him. +The room was chilly and uninviting, with a lofty ceiling +and a hideous wallpaper. There was a gas stove at the +far end of the room, turned very low, and hissing softly +as if in protest.</p> +<p>June knelt down and turned the tap on to its fullest +extent.</p> +<p>“The thing is,” Micky said hurriedly, “what are we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +going to do? If she stays in London, she’s bound to +hear about it. All the papers will be full of it to-morrow. +They’ll probably publish his confounded portrait. Can’t +you get her out of London? We’ve got to do something.”</p> +<p>June did not look at him. The odd little twinge of +jealousy tore her heart again. Even though she did not +love Micky, she quite realised what she was losing. After +all it must be a very beautiful thing to be cared for as +Micky cared for Esther.</p> +<p>She raised her eyes with a little ghost of a smile.</p> +<p>“I’ll do anything I can, Micky. If you’ve got anything +to suggest–––”</p> +<p>“I thought out crowds of plans coming along in the +cab, but they’re all rotten,” Micky admitted dolefully. +“I thought you’d be able to help me. Can’t you be +called off to a relative in the country or something, and +ask Miss Shepstone to go with you?”</p> +<p>June started up.</p> +<p>“Of course I can. I’ve got an aunt down at Enmore. +She’s always asking me to go and see her. I’ll send +her a wire. It’s too late to-night, but in the morning....”</p> +<p>Micky felt in his pocket for a pencil.</p> +<p>“Give me the address and I’ll send it first thing.” He +paused. “Supposing Miss Shepstone won’t go, though?”</p> +<p>“Oh, she’ll go,” said June quickly. “I’ll tell her it +means business for me. I’ll do the pathetic. I wonder +what time there’s a train.”</p> +<p>“I’ll look up all the trains, and arrange everything. +Does Miss Shepstone know I’m here now?”</p> +<p>“No–––”</p> +<p>“Very well, tell her one of your business agents called, +and that you’ve got to go off early to-morrow. You +can write me a note and post it to-night, asking me to +see you off. It’s quite a usual thing for you to do, you +know–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span></div> +<p>June smiled rather sadly.</p> +<p>“Poor old Micky!” she said.</p> +<p>Micky frowned.</p> +<p>“Don’t talk rubbish,” he said rather shortly. “I’d +do the same for any one.”</p> +<p>June knew it would be useless to contradict.</p> +<p>“If you can keep her out of town for a week it may +all have blown over,” he went on. “I’ll run down and +see you if I may–––”</p> +<p>“You know you may; but, Micky––don’t you think all +this is rather mistaken kindness? She’ll have to know +sooner or later; why not tell her at once? When the +letters stop coming she’ll begin to worry, and then–––”</p> +<p>Micky shook his head obstinately.</p> +<p>“I’ve my own reasons; be a pal and help me, June.”</p> +<p>“Very well, old boy.”</p> +<p>She gave him her hand.</p> +<p>“I think you’re making a mistake, but I suppose you +know your own business best. At any rate, I’ve warned +you.”</p> +<p>“You’re a dear,” said Micky gratefully.</p> +<p>June went to the front door with him; in spite of her +promise she was not feeling happy. Esther would have +to know. She went slowly back up the stairs.</p> +<p>“It’s a mistake,” she told herself again, with a sense +of foreboding. “Micky’s making a mistake.”</p> +<p>But she determined to act up to her part. She ran +up the last flight of stairs with a great noise and show +of excitement. She burst into their sitting-room breathless.</p> +<p>“Such news, Esther! Are you game for a dash down +into the wilds of nowhere? I’ve got to go off on business. +One of my agents has just been here. He’s made +a mess of things, as usual, and I’ve got to go down and +put things right. Oh, it’s quite country! I don’t know +if you like the country. I adore it myself. A place +called Enmore. I’ve got an antediluvian aunt who lives +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +there, and we’ll go and foist ourselves on her. She’s +always asking me to go and see her, so she’ll be delighted. +Well, what do you say?”</p> +<p>“You haven’t given me a chance to say anything,” +Esther protested laughing. “You’re like a whirlwind, +sweeping every one off their feet. Where is Enmore +to start with? And how can I go? Your aunt doesn’t +know me.”</p> +<p>“She’ll love you because I do,” said June promptly. +“Now don’t spoil everything. The greatest fun of it +all is rushing off at a moment’s notice. I shall send +Micky a note to-night and tell him to look up trains for +us and come and see us off. Micky’s always to be relied +on. If I look trains up myself I always go by the wrong +ones and never get there.” She was sitting down to her +desk as she spoke; she looked across at Esther, pen in +hand. “Well?” she queried.</p> +<p>Esther looked down at Charlie sprawling in the firelight.</p> +<p>“What’s going to become of Charlie?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Lydia will look after him,” June said promptly. “She +adores cats. That’s one excuse surmounted. Any more?”</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“I should like to come, but–––”</p> +<p>“Then that’s settled. We’ll stay a week if we’re not +bored to death. It’s a desolate spot––just a handful of +houses and a haystack and a few things like that, but +if you like the country we ought to have a good time. +I wish I’d got a car....”</p> +<p>“Isn’t it rather a funny place to go to for business?” +Esther asked innocently.</p> +<p>“Not in the least,” June declared. “All the ingredients +for my skin food came from the country––herbs and +attar of flowers and all the rest of it. Besides”––she +swallowed hard before uttering the biggest fib of all––“my +agent lives down there, you see.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” said Esther. She was rather pleased at the +idea of a change.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></div> +<p>“I suppose we can have letters sent on?” she asked +after a moment.</p> +<p>June’s scratching pen stopped for a moment; then +flew on again faster than before.</p> +<p>“Oh, of course!” she said airily.</p> +<p>Her kind heart gave a little throb of pity as she realised +that there would never be any letters to send on––not +any, at least, of which Esther was thinking.</p> +<p>The phantom lover had gone for ever.</p> +<p>She looked round at the girl pityingly. She looked so +happy and unconscious sitting there in the firelight, and +all the time if she knew what had just happened over +in Paris her heart would surely break.</p> +<p>“Beast!” said June under her breath.</p> +<p>Esther turned.</p> +<p>“What did you say?” she asked.</p> +<p>“I was only talking to the pen,” June answered irascibly.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII' id='CHAPTER_XXIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky turned up at Paddington the following +morning laden with papers and chocolates.</p> +<p>“Any one would think we were going to the +other side of the world,” June told him. “Do you know, +my good man, that it’s only a couple of hours’ run to +Enmore?”</p> +<p>“Is it?” said Micky guilelessly. “Well, any way, I’m +sure you won’t be able to get De Bry’s chocolates down +there, so they’ll come in useful.” He looked at Esther. +She was wearing the fur coat and a bunch of violets.</p> +<p>“I think it’s awfully exciting,” she said, meeting his +eyes. “We never thought about going till quite late last +night, did we, June?”</p> +<p>“Things done in a hurry are almost the most enjoyable,” +June answered sententiously. “I’m quite bucked +at the idea of living the simple life for a few days.”</p> +<p>“Pity you haven’t got a car down there,” Micky said. +“There ought to be some fine runs round about.”</p> +<p>“So there are,” said June promptly. Her queer eyes +twinkled as she looked at him. “Micky, would you like +to be a perfect dear and come down in yours, and take +us out? You can stay at the local inn and play the +heavy swell–––”</p> +<p>Micky flushed eagerly.</p> +<p>“That’s a ripping idea,” he said. He turned to Esther: +“I’ll come like a shot if I shan’t be in the way,” he added.</p> +<p>Esther smiled; she was surprised to find that the idea +was not at all distasteful to her.</p> +<p>“Oh yes; do come!” she said.</p> +<p>June had got into the carriage, and was busy arranging +her various possessions.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></div> +<p>“You’ll be left behind, Esther,” she said warningly.</p> +<p>Esther turned at once.</p> +<p>“Good-bye, Mr. Mellowes.”</p> +<p>Micky took her hand in a hard grip.</p> +<p>“Good-bye––but only till to-morrow....”</p> +<p>He stood back as the train started; the last glimpse +the two girls had of him was his radiantly smiling face.</p> +<p>“Do you know,” said June, settling herself in a corner, +“I believe I’m half in love with that man, after all. Isn’t +he just a dear?”</p> +<p>“He’s awfully kind,” Esther agreed.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>When the train drew into the little station at Enmore +June looked at Esther with a sort of apprehension.</p> +<p>“It’s a most awful one-eyed hole, you know,” she said. +“I do hope you won’t be bored to death. It won’t be +so bad if Micky keeps his promise and comes down, but +if he doesn’t....”</p> +<p>“Don’t you think he will?” Esther asked quickly.</p> +<p>“Oh, I dare say he will. I hope he will, I’m sure; +somebody has got to amuse you while I go and see to +my business.”</p> +<p>“I can amuse myself.”</p> +<p>June sniffed.</p> +<p>“Can you? Well, it’s more than I could when I used +to stay down here. There’s only a church and a village +inn and a handful of cottages. My aunt has by far +the most distinguished-looking house in the village, and +I dare say you won’t think much of that.”</p> +<p>They were on the platform now, and June eyed their +two suit-cases ruefully.</p> +<p>“We shall have to carry them,” she said. “No porters +or taxicabs here, my dear. Come along.”</p> +<p>She grabbed her own, and Esther followed her out +into the road.</p> +<p>It was cold but sunny, and the fresh air of the country +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +was something quite different from the chilly, damp atmosphere +they had left behind in London.</p> +<p>Esther drew a deep breath.</p> +<p>“It’s lovely,” she said. “Do you know”––she looked +ahead of her down the winding road with a little frown––“I’ve +got the sort of feeling that something is going to +happen to me here.”</p> +<p>“Goodness!” said June. “Don’t you start having instincts +too! It’s bad enough for me to have them. What +can happen to you, pray, unless you get melancholia or +something?”</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>It was only a little way into the village; as soon as +they came in sight of it June pointed excitedly to a red +gabled house just visible through the trees.</p> +<p>“That’s where my aunt lives. She’s an old maid, you +know, and incidentally she thinks I’m a most heaven-born +genius. She’s nearly sixty, but I’ll bet anything you +like she uses June Mason’s Skin Beautifier.”</p> +<p>She paused to open the iron gate of the little garden, but +before there was time to ring the bell the door opened +and a little lady with grey hair and a wonderful complexion +very much like June’s stood there with outstretched +hands.</p> +<p>“My dears! I never was so delighted! June––after +all these months you really have come to see me.”</p> +<p>She kissed June heartily and turned to Esther. June +introduced them.</p> +<p>“My friend, Esther Shepstone––my aunt, Miss Dearling. +I don’t know what you think of us for arriving +on top of our wire like this,” she said, laughing. “But +I like to do things in a hurry––so here we are, and we’re +just starving.”</p> +<p>They followed Miss Dearling into a quaint little square +room, where the table was laid for lunch. June talked +away all the time.</p> +<p>“There’s another member of the party coming down +to-morrow,” she said. “No; a man this time––Micky +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +Mellowes! You remember him? Yes; I thought you +would.” She flushed a little. “He’s going to bring his +car down and take us all out for rides; so we’re in for a +good time.”</p> +<p>“I remember Mr. Mellowes quite well,” Miss Dearling +said. When she was alone with Esther for a moment +she whispered to her––</p> +<p>“We all hoped June meant to marry him, you know, +my dear. Perhaps she has changed her mind, as she +is allowing him to come down. Such a very charming +man––have you seen him?––and so rich.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ve seen him,” Esther said. “He is nice––very!”</p> +<p>“It would be the dream of my life fulfilled if I could +see June married to him,” the old lady went on. “June +wants a firm hand. She is wonderfully high-spirited +and clever, you know, but I always feel that she would +be so much happier with some one to look after her, +and he is just the man to take care of a woman.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Esther.</p> +<p>She felt Miss Dearling glance at her hands.</p> +<p>“Are you––are you engaged to be married?” she asked, +after a moment. “Please forgive my curiosity, but I am +always so interested in young people’s love-affairs....”</p> +<p>Esther coloured.</p> +<p>“Yes, I am engaged,” she said. “But he is away just +now––abroad. I hope we shall be married as soon as he +comes home again.”</p> +<p>Miss Dearling said that she hoped so, too; later, when +she got a moment alone with June she asked interestedly +about the man to whom Esther was engaged.</p> +<p>“I do hope he is nice,” she said anxiously. “Such a +very charming girl! such a sweet-looking girl! Is he +nice, my dear?”</p> +<p>June crossed the room and shut the door; then she +turned round with a little grimace.</p> +<p>“He’s a pig!” she said.</p> +<p>Miss Dearling screamed.</p> +<p>“Oh, my dear!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></div> +<p>“He is,” June maintained stoutly. “She doesn’t think +so, of course, but he is, all the same.” She broke off +as Esther came back.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Esther woke in the morning with a pleasurable sense +of something going to happen. She lay still for a moment +looking round her at the heavy, old fashioned furniture +and flowered chintz curtains.</p> +<p>Miss Dearling’s house was essentially Early Victorian, +from its wool mats and stuffed birds in the sitting-room +to the high four-posted bedsteads and faded Brussels +carpets.</p> +<p>But there was something very old-world and charming +about it too, in spite of rather ugly furniture, and +Esther was just admiring the dressing-table, with its +petticoat of spotted muslin and pink ribbons, when the +door opened and June thrust her head round.</p> +<p>“Can I come in?” She did not wait for an answer, +but came in, her long mauve silk kimono making a little +rustling sound as she walked.</p> +<p>“I’m really dressed,” she explained, sitting down on +Esther’s bed. “All but my frock, at least, and as the +post has just come, and a letter from Micky, I thought +I’d come and tell you that he’ll be down to-day––after +lunch, and he wants us to meet him. I can’t go, as I’ve +got a business appointment at three, so you must. He’s +going to drive up to the station and wait there for one +of us to come and show him where we live.”</p> +<p>There was a little silence. Esther flushed beneath the +elder girl’s shrewd gaze.</p> +<p>“I should have thought he could have found out where +we live,” she said rather awkwardly. “And it’s such +a little way–––”</p> +<p>June rose with a great show of dignity.</p> +<p>“Oh, very well, if you don’t want to be obliging, but +I do think you might....”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></div> +<p>“Silly––of course I will.” Esther caught her hand. +“I’ll go; the station at three o’clock, and then what am +I to do? Bring him here, or what?”</p> +<p>“Do what you like, my child––I shan’t be in till five. +Don’t let him be bored, that’s all, or he’ll go back to +town––the one thing Micky cannot stand is being bored.”</p> +<p>Esther made a little grimace.</p> +<p>She felt nervous when at five minutes to three exactly +she walked down the winding road to the station.</p> +<p>June ought to have come herself, she argued; it was +a most silly thing to send her––she hoped he would not +come at all; but all the time she was listening for the +sound of a car or a motor-horn. The sleepy-eyed factotum +of the station walked up and stared at her curiously. +After a few turns he ventured to ask if she +wanted to go by train.</p> +<p>“No, I’m waiting for a gentleman––I––oh, here he is.”</p> +<p>“’Twas her young gentleman for sure,” the sleepy-eyed +one told his colleague afterwards. “She blushed +up like a rose when she saw him.”</p> +<p>Micky noticed that blush, too, as he turned the car +with a fine sweep and came to a standstill.</p> +<p>Esther greeted him with a torrent of explanation.</p> +<p>“June couldn’t come, so she made me––she had to go +out on business. She would make me come!”</p> +<p>“It’s very kind,” Micky said. “I’m later than I expected––the +roads are bad down in this part of the world. +Well, and how do you like Enmore?”</p> +<p>“It’s very quiet, but I like it for a change, and June’s +aunt is ever so kind.”</p> +<p>“Yes, a dear old lady; I know her well. Did you tell +her I was coming?”</p> +<p>“June did....”</p> +<p>His eyes swept her face anxiously. No trace of tears +or sadness to-day, at all events.</p> +<p>“Are we supposed to go straight home?” he asked +after a moment. “Because, if not, what do you say to +a run round first?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span></div> +<p>Esther’s eyes sparkled.</p> +<p>“I should love it!” She got in beside him, and the car +started away.</p> +<p>“I only brought the two-seater,” Micky explained +audaciously. “I hate a crowd. This will take three at +a pinch, but it’s much more comfortable for two.”</p> +<p>“It’s lovely!” Esther agreed.</p> +<p>She leaned back luxuriously.</p> +<p>“It must be splendid to be able to have a car like this +of your very own,” she said suddenly.</p> +<p>Micky laughed rather ruefully.</p> +<p>“There are other things I would far rather have,” he +said.</p> +<p>“Are there?” She looked up at him innocently. “What +things?” she asked.</p> +<p>Micky’s hands tightened over the wheel.</p> +<p>“Am I really to answer that question?” he asked.</p> +<p>“No,” said Esther hurriedly.</p> +<p>She could not think why she had been so stupid as +to say such a thing. She felt very vexed.</p> +<p>They went some way in silence. Esther glanced at +the man beside her timidly.</p> +<p>Would he end up by some day marrying June? she +wondered. Lucky June, if he did––lucky ... she +checked the thought with a little sense of shame. Only +a few days ago she had declared that she disliked him. +Perhaps it was the car that made her feel so suddenly +envious of the woman who would one day be this man’s +wife.</p> +<p>Micky glanced down at her.</p> +<p>“Are you cold?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I am a little”––she smiled up at him––“in spite of my +new coat,” she said. “I think we had better go home.”</p> +<p>June came to the door to meet them.</p> +<p>“I got home earlier than I thought,” she told Esther. +“Well, Micky?”</p> +<p>“Are there any letters?” Esther asked. She felt a +swift feeling of envy as she looked at these two, so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +openly and unfeignedly glad to see one another. “I suppose +it’s expecting too much though,” she added with a +sigh.</p> +<p>June did not answer, and Esther went on and up the +stairs.</p> +<p>“There is one for her,” June said in an undertone to +Micky as soon as she had gone. “And one from Paris, +too––from that man! Micky, are you sure it isn’t all a +mistake about him being married?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” said Micky stolidly.</p> +<p>“Then shall I––what shall I do about that letter––it +was sent on from London. Ought I to let her have it?”</p> +<p>Micky was taking off his coat, his back was turned.</p> +<p>“Oh, let her have it,” he said casually. “It may be +the last she’ll ever get.”</p> +<p>He turned swiftly. “Let me look at it.”</p> +<p>June took it from her dress and handed it to him.</p> +<p>He glanced at the writing and gave it back to her.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, I should let her have it,” he said again.</p> +<p>But June still hesitated.</p> +<p>“Micky––supposing it’s to tell her about––you know +... about this marriage?”</p> +<p>There was a moment’s silence.</p> +<p>“Oh, it would hardly be that,” Micky said positively. +“At least––well, if it is, we must chance it.” But his +voice did not sound as if he were at all anxious.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV' id='CHAPTER_XXIV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +</div> +<p>June raked up another appointment for the following +day. “I’m behaving like an angel to you,” she +told Micky. “Yesterday I tramped about the fields +till I was worn out so that I should be out of the way +and Esther could meet you. Oh, she didn’t want to go +at all,” she hastened to add as she saw the look of pleasure +that filled his eyes. “I had to make her go.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I quite believe that,” Micky said.</p> +<p>He was standing beside the car at Miss Dearling’s +gate, and Esther was upstairs putting on her hat. She +had protested twenty times that she did not really want +to go; she had begged June to take her place; she had +implored Micky to take June instead; but they had both +refused.</p> +<p>“I’m not keen on motoring when it’s cold,” June declared. +“Besides, I’ve got my business to see to, and +I don’t want Micky. You go, Esther, and amuse the +poor soul!––just to please me.”</p> +<p>Esther said “Very well,” and tried to look as if she +were not anxious at all, but she was really looking forward +to another drive.</p> +<p>“Didn’t you really want to come?” Micky asked as +they drove away.</p> +<p>Esther laughed. “Of course I did; I wanted to come +so badly I had to pretend that I didn’t just for decency’s +sake.”</p> +<p>There was a little silence.</p> +<p>“Did you have good news from Paris yesterday?” he +asked deliberately.</p> +<p>He felt as if he must speak of Ashton to in some way +check the wave of joy that had filled his heart at her +words; it was not to be with him that she had wished +to come, but for the drive and the comfort of the car.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></div> +<p>He saw how her face clouded at his question.</p> +<p>“Yes, thank you,” she said, but her voice did not sound +very enthusiastic. Presently: “Mr. Mellowes,” she said +suddenly, “do you know that I have always been sorry +that I did not go to Paris that day when I wanted to?––I +wish I had now.”</p> +<p>“Why now?” Micky asked.</p> +<p>She gave a little troubled laugh.</p> +<p>“I don’t know. I really can’t explain.” She did not +understand herself what she really meant, but last night +when she had read Raymond’s letter, it had suddenly +come over her with a sickening feeling of dismay that in +some indefinite way he was really getting to be what +June had always called him––a phantom lover! It seemed +so long since she had seen him. After all, what were +letters and words? But she could not explain this to +Micky.</p> +<p>“I think I know what you mean,” he said after a +moment. “You are getting tired of this separation. Is +that it? Letters are all very well, but they are not +enough....”</p> +<p>She looked up at him in surprise.</p> +<p>“Why, that is just what I do mean? How did you +know?”</p> +<p>He laughed rather ruefully.</p> +<p>“Perhaps I’ve felt like it myself,” he said.</p> +<p>“Have you?” There was a little note of wonderment +in her voice.</p> +<p>“I said ‘perhaps,’” he reminded her.</p> +<p>She changed the subject; she drew his attention to the +country through which they were passing. It was bare +and wind-swept, but there was a sort of rugged picturesqueness +about it that appealed to Esther.</p> +<p>“I believe I should like to live in the country, after +all,” she said suddenly. “You seem to be able to really +breathe down here; it’s not shut in like London is.”</p> +<p>“Dear old London,” Micky said. “We all run it down, +but we’re all glad to get back there when we’ve been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +away for more than a few days.” He leaned forward, +wrapping the rug more closely round her. “Where do +you think you will live when you are married?” he asked.</p> +<p>The hot colour flooded her face; she looked up at him +in a scared sort of way.</p> +<p>“What a question! How do I know? I’ve never +even thought about it.”</p> +<p>“Haven’t you?” said Micky. “I have, crowds of times. +I’ve worked it all out to a nicety. I shall have a house +in London and a place in the country as well, so that +if my wife doesn’t like town we can divide our time +and stay six months at each.”</p> +<p>“We are not all rich like you are, you know,” Esther +said drily. “I dare say when I get married––if I ever +do––I shall just have a little flat somewhere and stay +there for the rest of my life, and be very happy too,” +she added with a sort of defiance.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Micky after a moment. “I think I could +be very happy in a flat, too, for the rest of my life––with +the right woman.” He looked down at her, smiling +thoughtfully “The only trouble is, that I shall probably +have to marry the wrong one.”</p> +<p>“If you do, it will be your own fault, I should think,” +said Esther, laughing. She could not quite understand +this man. Had he ever really loved her, or had it all +just been a pretence?</p> +<p>“No,” said Micky promptly. “I think it will be your +fault.”</p> +<p>Esther raised her eyes slowly. Micky was smiling.</p> +<p>“Yes, I mean it,” he said seriously. “The first time +I ever saw you I thought to myself, ‘Here she is! That +right woman I’ve been waiting for all my life’––but, of +course, you didn’t think I was the right man, and so +that ended it,” he added philosophically.</p> +<p>Esther did not like to hear him speak so lightly. She +would have been surprised if she could have known the +desperate unhappiness in his heart, the bitterness that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +drove him to speak so flippantly of all that he held best +and dearest.</p> +<p>She made no attempt to answer him, and presently +he said again with change of voice––</p> +<p>“Are you hungry, I wonder? Because I am! And +I’ve got a firm conviction that we’re coming to a wayside +inn. Do you see the chimneys through the +trees?...”</p> +<p>He slowed the car a little.</p> +<p>“There’s another car outside––what do you say? Shall +we risk it?”</p> +<p>“It would be rather nice,” Esther admitted. She was +feeling cold; she was rather glad when the car stopped +and Micky gave her his hand.</p> +<p>“They’ve got a fire anyway,” he said cheerily. “I +saw it through the window, and we’ll ask for some +coffee.”</p> +<p>He led the way into the parlour. Two men wrapped +in heavy coats stood by the fire; they moved to make +way for Esther. After a moment they went out of the +room, and she saw them in the road bending over the +car next to Micky’s.</p> +<p>“We can have coffee and buns,” Micky said, coming +back after a moment. “I don’t know what they’ll be +like, but–––”</p> +<p>“I shall enjoy them anyway,” she told him. “I really +am hungry.”</p> +<p>He pulled off his gloves and dragged a chair up to +the fire for her.</p> +<p>“This is fine,” he said. “Have you ever thought what +a novelty a honeymoon would be touring through villages +like this? I should like to just start away and go on +driving for miles and miles, just staying anywhere and +getting meals anyhow.”</p> +<p>Esther laughed. “I should have thought it was just +the sort of thing you would hate,” she said.</p> +<p>“That’s where you’re mistaken,” he told her. “I live +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +in town and in the way I do because people expect it +of me, and I’m too lazy to bother to change. It’s not +a bit the life I should choose if I had my way. I hate +dressing for dinner, and wading through six or seven +courses, and being bored stiff half the time by some +dressed-up woman beside me....”</p> +<p>He looked at her with a comical expression.</p> +<p>Esther leaned her chin in her hand and raised serious +eyes to his face.</p> +<p>“Well, how would you really like to live, then?” she +asked.</p> +<p>Micky sat down on the edge of the table and stuck +his long legs out before him. He kept his eyes fixed +on his boots as he answered––</p> +<p>“Well, I should like a place in the country, as I said, +and a garden––a ripping garden, with lots of roses and +grass––walks like you see in old-fashioned pictures, +and a high box hedge––that’s one of the things I simply +must have! Have you ever smelt a box hedge after +a hot sun has been on it? No? well, you ought to; +it’s fine!”</p> +<p>He paused reflectively.</p> +<p>“I should like to look after the roses myself, I think,” +he went on presently. “I dare say I should make a mess +of it, but I should like to have a try, anyway. And I +should like to keep lots of animals, horses and dogs and +chickens. Do you know”––he half turned to her––“I’ve +always had a fancy for great Danes––you can’t keep +’em in town, only in the country. Some people I once +stayed with down in Lincoln had a couple––ripping dogs +they were––almost as big as ponies, and they used to let +the kids play with them and pull them about. Old Lancing +had a boy, you know––a ripping little kid of five––a +real sport he was, too––Uncle Micky he used to call me.” +Micky chuckled reminiscently. “It must be jolly fine to +have a youngster of your own like that,” he added.</p> +<p>This was a new Micky, indeed! Esther watched him +with fascinated eyes. She had not known that he was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +fond of children; she had taken it for granted that men +hardly ever were. She supposed drearily that she had +got that idea from Raymond. He had always said he +would not stand “kids.” It was odd that, though Micky +had used the same word, it had sounded somehow quite +different when he said it.</p> +<p>Micky raised his eyes suddenly. “What are you thinking +about?” he asked.</p> +<p>She shook her head; her lip quivered a little.</p> +<p>Micky half rose to go to her, when the two men who +owned the second car came back into the room again. +Micky turned on his heel.</p> +<p>“I suppose we ought to be getting on,” he said constrainedly. +“I’ll go and start up; you stay here.”</p> +<p>He went out, leaving Esther by the fire.</p> +<p>Her thoughts were a little confused. What had he +been going to say, she wondered. It seemed hardly +possible that she had really had that little glimpse of the +other Micky whom she had never seen before; the Micky +who was not at all a man about town, but just an ordinary +person who thought it must be fine to have a +home in the country and lots of roses and a little son +of his own.</p> +<p>The two men behind her were talking together; one +of them was laughing a good deal in a sneering way.</p> +<p>“She must be a fool, you know,” he said drily. “I’m +surprised at any woman being caught like that. It was +only her money he was after, of course.”</p> +<p>“I’ve never seen her myself,” the other said disinterestedly––he +sounded rather bored––“and I only know him +slightly. You met them in Paris, you say?”</p> +<p>“Yes––last week.” There was the sound of a match +being struck and a little pause while he puffed at a +cigarette.</p> +<p>Esther turned in her chair; it was odd how the mention +of Paris always seemed to grip her heart. She +looked at the two men, but they were both strangers +to her.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span></div> +<p>“Perhaps he won’t really marry her,” the elder one +said yawning. “There’s many a slip you know, and +from what I know of Raymond Ashton–––” He +shrugged his shoulders eloquently.</p> +<p>The girl by the fire sat very still. She was staring +at the two men with piteous grey eyes; she felt as if all +the blood in her body had ebbed to her heart, where +it was hammering enough to kill her.</p> +<p>Like some one in a dream she heard the laugh the +other man gave–––</p> +<p>“Not marry her! My dear boy, he must! It’s his +last chance, and he knows it! He’s up to his neck in +debt and borrowed money. As a matter of fact, I +shouldn’t be at all surprised if Tubby Clare’s little widow +hasn’t already changed her name for Raymond Ashton’s.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXV' id='CHAPTER_XXV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +</div> +<p>Outside in the road Micky suddenly started up +the engine of his car. The dull throb, throb, came +faintly to Esther as she sat there as motionless +as if she had been carved in stone.</p> +<p>The little vibrant noise sounded like the beating of +some one’s heart, she thought dully; she found herself +listening to it subconsciously.</p> +<p>The two men behind her had moved out to the doorway; +she could still hear them talking and laughing together. +Something within her urged her to get up and +follow them to tell them that she had heard what they +said, to tell them that it was all a lie––a shameful lie. +But she could not move.</p> +<p>She told herself that if she kept quite still for a few +moments she would wake and find that she had just +dreamed it all. She stared hard into the glowing fire, +trying to believe that it was all part of her dream, that +it was not real warmth which she felt on her face at +all, that those leaping flames were only pictures of her +imagination, that even if she thrust her hand into them +they would not burn her, but would just melt away +into the silence around like phantoms.</p> +<p>The phantom lover! June’s half-mocking words beat +dully against her brain. June had always hated Raymond; +she would be glad if this thing were true.</p> +<p>She suddenly realised that she was shivering in every +limb. With an effort she dragged her chair closer to +the fire. She put out her hands to the flames....</p> +<p>“Good heavens! what are you doing?” said Micky’s +voice at her shoulder. She had not heard him come into +the room; it was only when he bent and caught her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +hand back from the flames that she realised what she +had been going to do. She looked up at him with a +sick smile.</p> +<p>“I thought it wouldn’t burn,” she said stupidly.</p> +<p>A flash of alarm crept into his eyes; she looked so +white.</p> +<p>He kept her hand in his holding it firmly.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter?” he asked gently.</p> +<p>There was something so kind in his voice that for a +moment she felt as if she would have given her soul +to have been able to lean her head against his shoulder +and sob out the truth; all she had just heard and all +the miserable hope and fear that had tortured her for +the past few weeks.</p> +<p>“What is it?” Micky said again anxiously.</p> +<p>She dragged her hand free of his; she remembered +that he, too, had hated Raymond, that he, too, would +be glad when he knew of this nightmare that had suddenly +swooped down upon her.</p> +<p>She rose to her feet, holding fast to the chair-back +to steady herself.</p> +<p>“There isn’t anything the matter; but I should like +to go home––I’m tired, that’s all; I’m only tired.”</p> +<p>She moved away to the door. The cold air beating on +her face gave her a grip of herself again. She stood for +a moment looking down the deserted street, her hands +clenched.</p> +<p>It was only for a little while, just until they got back +to Enmore, that she had got to keep up appearances, and +then––then....</p> +<p>A sudden wave of tragedy swept through her soul; +oh, it could not be true! It was some other man of +whom they had been speaking, some other Raymond!</p> +<p>She heard Micky laughing with the landlady as he paid +for the coffee and buns, and she felt that she hated him +for not guessing how she suffered. She walked down +to where the little car stood waiting. If only he would +be quick and take her back; she could do nothing till +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +she got back to Enmore, and each moment was so +precious.</p> +<p>It seemed an eternity until Micky joined her. He +avoided looking at her, though he bent and wrapped the +rug carefully over her knees before he took his seat.</p> +<p>The other car with its two occupants had vanished +down the road some minutes since; only a small cloud +of grey dust on the horizon showed which way they +had gone.</p> +<p>Micky drove back faster than he had come. Once or +twice he looked down at Esther with an anxious pucker +between his eyes.</p> +<p>What had happened in those few minutes to make this +sudden change? he wondered.</p> +<p>She had been happy and smiling enough this morning; +now all that he could see of her face, half hidden +in the big upstand collar of the coat he had given her, +were two piteous blue eyes staring steadily ahead of +her down the road.</p> +<p>They had gone some miles almost silently when he +felt that he could bear it no longer. He stopped the +car almost savagely and turned in his seat.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter? What have I done now?” he +asked roughly. “You weren’t like this when we came +out. If I’ve done anything to annoy you....”</p> +<p>She forced herself to laugh. It would be the last +straw if she broke down now.</p> +<p>“How absurd!” she said in a high-pitched voice. +“Nothing is the matter. I’m tired, that’s all; I shall be +glad to get home.”</p> +<p>He was not satisfied.</p> +<p>“You’re not telling me the truth,” he said. His mind +searched anxiously back to the short time they had +stayed in the inn. What could have happened? They +had seen nobody there except the two men with the racing +car.</p> +<p>“Those two fellows who came in––they didn’t annoy +you, or anything like that, when I was out of the room?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></div> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“Of course not; they never spoke to me.”</p> +<p>“If you won’t tell me what I’ve done, how can I hope +to put things right?” he said.</p> +<p>It was always like this, he told himself savagely; one +little step onward and a dozen back. He did not speak +again till they got home.</p> +<p>Esther got out of the car without waiting for him, +and went on into the house.</p> +<p>After a moment Micky followed.</p> +<p>Esther was in the hall; she turned to him impatiently.</p> +<p>“Every one is out,” she said. “Miss Dearling and +June are both out.”</p> +<p>There was a sort of strain in her voice which Micky +could not understand. She looked as if she had had +some bad shock, and yet what could have happened? +He had not left her for more than a few minutes.</p> +<p>“Very well, I won’t wait,” he said formally. He spoke +curtly; he felt sore enough; he raised his hat stiffly and +turned away.</p> +<p>He looked back once at the little house. He thought +perhaps Esther might be standing at the door in case he +should turn, but the door was shut, and it was impossible +for him to guess that upstairs in the room over the +porch Esther had shut and locked the door and was +pacing up and down the room, her hands pressed hard +against her eyes, sobbing––great tearless sobs that seemed +to rend her very heart.</p> +<p>“It’s not true––it’s not true,” she said over and over +again under her breath. “It’s not true––it’s not +true....”</p> +<p>The striking of a church clock in the village seemed +to rouse her. June would be back soon, and Miss Dearling.</p> +<p>She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief; they felt +hot and burning. She looked at herself anxiously in the +little mirror––such a white face; she turned away impatiently.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span></div> +<p>Twelve o’clock; there was a train up to town at half-past, +she knew. The confusion in her brain seemed to +have passed all at once; she felt quite calm and clear.</p> +<p>She would go to Paris––she would see Raymond, and +hear from his own lips what a lie it was. She ought to +have gone before. She had been a fool to listen to +Micky; of course he would not wish her to go.</p> +<p>She put a few things into a bag. She took the last +letter she had had from Raymond, and kissed it before +thrusting it back into her dress; she scribbled a pencil +note to June and fastened it to the pincushion.</p> +<p>With the little suit-case in her hand she went downstairs +and out into the street.</p> +<p>There was nobody about, and she almost ran to the +station. The porter who had witnessed her meeting yesterday +with Micky stared at her wonderingly.</p> +<p>The London train was due now, he told her. She’d +have to hurry.... She was gone before he finished +his slow speech.</p> +<p>She found an empty carriage and got in, sitting as far +away from the door as possible in case any one should +come along the platform and recognize her. It was only +when the train started away that she leaned back and +closed her eyes.</p> +<p>“I am going to Paris; I can’t live without him any +longer. Please don’t worry.” Over and over she found +herself repeating these words in her brain. She wondered +where she had heard them and what they really +meant.</p> +<p>“I am going to Paris; I can’t live without him any +longer.”</p> +<p>They were true anyway. She was going to Paris because +she felt she could no longer live without Raymond.</p> +<p>She opened her eyes with a little gasp; they were her +own words. She remembered that she had written them +in the note she had left on the pincushion for June.</p> +<p>Poor June! She would be angry. And Micky.... +A little throb touched her heart. She had not been very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +kind to Micky. She hoped he would soon forget her. +Her eyes closed again.</p> +<p>How long did it take to get to Paris? She had not +the least idea. She had not got much money with her; +she tried to remember how much, but somehow her +brain refused to act; she took out her purse and tipped +its contents into her lap. She started to count it, but +after a moment she gave it up with a helpless feeling and +put it all back again.</p> +<p>“Tubby Clare’s little widow....” Who was Tubby +Clare? she wondered. She laughed foolishly. What a +name!</p> +<p>But he had left his widow a great deal of money, and +money was everything nowadays. Nobody could be +happy without money; Raymond had told her that months +ago; a man with money has the whole world at his feet, +so he had said.</p> +<p>She thought of Micky––he was one of the richest men +in London, and yet he was not happy. She had never +thought that he looked happy; she wondered if it was +really because he loved her.</p> +<p>She wished she could stop thinking. She was so tired, +she wanted to sleep; but the wheel of thought went on +and on in her brain.</p> +<p>The miles seemed to crawl by. Soon the fields and +open country were left behind; the houses were closer +together; presently they crowded one another, almost +jostling each other out of the way, it seemed.</p> +<p>What an ugly place London was. She sat up with a +little shiver. Strange how cold she felt, and yet her head +was burning hot.</p> +<p>Would this journey never end? Surely they had been +travelling for days and days already.</p> +<p>The train stopped with a jerk.</p> +<p>“Paddington ... all change––all change....”</p> +<p>Esther stumbled to her feet.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVI' id='CHAPTER_XXVI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky had just reached the unpretentious inn in +the village where he had taken a room, when he +was hailed from across the road by June; a very +cheerful looking June, in a business-like coat and skirt +of rough tweed, and carrying a walking-stick, which she +proceeded to wave at him vigorously.</p> +<p>“Back so soon!” She came across to where he stood +by the car, and looked at his despondent face. “Not another +row?” she demanded tersely.</p> +<p>Micky frowned.</p> +<p>“No––merely a sort of frigid silence this time,” he +said savagely, then he laughed. “It’s no use, June, I +may as well throw up the sponge. I seem to put my +foot in it whatever I do.”</p> +<p>June drew a pattern in the mud at her feet.</p> +<p>“Well, what have you done?” she asked. “Esther was +all right this morning, and quite pleased to be going with +you. I certainly never expected to see either of you +till this afternoon. Where did you go?”</p> +<p>Micky shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Oh, some little one-eyed place. We stopped at an inn +and had some coffee, and that seemed to finish it.”</p> +<p>“What, the coffee?” asked June with a twinkle.</p> +<p>Micky turned away.</p> +<p>“If you’re going to make a joke of everything–––” he +said with dignity.</p> +<p>She laid her hand on his arm.</p> +<p>“I’m sorry, old boy. But you do explain things so +badly, you know. You had coffee at the inn, yes––and +then–––”</p> +<p>“I went outside to start up the engine, and when I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +came back she seemed to have utterly changed. She even +looked different and she hardly spoke all the way home.”</p> +<p>“It must be your imagination.”</p> +<p>He shook his head.</p> +<p>“No, it isn’t; and when we got home she went indoors +without even saying good-bye––confound her!” he added +in savage parenthesis.</p> +<p>“Oh, Micky!” said June reproachfully.</p> +<p>He coloured.</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean that, but I’m so fed-up with everything–––” +He leaned his elbow on the side of the car +and looked away from her down the road. “I think +I’ll get back to town this afternoon,” he said after a +moment. “I was a fool to come at all.”</p> +<p>June looked at him silently.</p> +<p>“Well, what are you thinking?” he asked.</p> +<p>She roused herself and answered briskly.</p> +<p>“I think you want your lunch, that’s what I think, +and I’m going to take you back with me to have some. +Aunt Mary is expecting you–––” Her queer eyes +twinkled. “Micky, she’s quite made up her mind that +you’ve come down here after me.”</p> +<p>Micky laughed ruefully.</p> +<p>“It would be a dashed sight better for me if I had,” +he said.</p> +<p>He moved to the door of the car.</p> +<p>“Jump in, and I’ll drive you back. I’m not sure that +I shall stay to lunch, though–––” he added darkly.</p> +<p>“Oh yes, you will,” June said. “And when you see +Esther you’ll find that it was just imagination on your +part––why, only coming down in the train the other +morning she agreed with me that you were a perfect +darling––she did, on my word of honour!”</p> +<p>When they reached the house Micky meekly followed +June into the hall.</p> +<p>“The table’s laid,” she informed him. “I’ll just go +and take off my hat and find Esther and Aunt Mary. +Go in, Micky.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span></div> +<p>Micky took off his hat and coat and obeyed.</p> +<p>He looked several sizes too large for the little dining-room +as he walked over to the fire and stood with his +back to it; he looked round the room appreciatively.</p> +<p>This was a real home, he thought with sudden wistfulness +in spite of its small rooms and general atmosphere +of a bygone decade; a man could be very happy +here with a woman he cared for.</p> +<p>“Micky––Micky–––” called June urgently. She came +clattering down the stairs anyhow––she burst into the +room, she thrust a scrap of paper into his hand.</p> +<p>“She’s gone––she’s gone! Oh, what fools we’ve been! +I told you what it would be. I knew she’d find out +sooner or later. Oh, why didn’t you let me tell her?––I +begged you to let me. It’s not my fault. I warned you +what it would be––oh dear! oh dear!” and June fell into +a sobbing heap on the uncomfortable horsehair couch +behind her.</p> +<p>Micky stood clutching the paper and staring at her; it +was some minutes before he could find his voice, then +he went over to where she lay, put his hand on her +shoulder, and shook her almost roughly.</p> +<p>“What are you talking about, June? For heaven’s +sake sit up and behave like a rational woman. Who’s +gone? What do you mean?”</p> +<p>She raised her tear-stained face.</p> +<p>“Read it! read it! Oh, Micky, you have been a fool!” +she said furiously. “It’s all your fault. I knew what +would happen–––”</p> +<p>“Oh, for heaven’s sake shut up,” said Micky.</p> +<p>He had unfolded the paper, and there was a moment’s +tragic silence as he read the three lines Esther had scribbled.</p> +<p>“I have gone to Paris; I can’t live without him any +longer. Please don’t worry about me....”</p> +<p>Twice his lips moved, but no words would come, then +he broke out in a strangled voice––</p> +<p>“It’s a joke––of course it is. She’s done it to frighten +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +us. Why, I––I only left her here half-an-hour ago––it +can’t be more. It’s a joke––of––of course it is ... +June....”</p> +<p>“A queer sort of joke,” said June sobbing. “Poor +darling! and a nice sort of reception she’ll get when she +reaches Paris with that cad there....”</p> +<p>“She’ll never find him; she doesn’t know where he +is,” Micky said hoarsely. There was a stunned look in +his eyes––he took a step towards the door and came back +again as if he did not know what to do.</p> +<p>June was drying her eyes and shedding more tears +and drying them again; she looked at Micky angrily.</p> +<p>“Of course she’ll find him,” she said tartly. “She +knows his address; the brute’s written to her dozens of +times, and she’s written to him as well....” Her +eyes searched his face with a sort of contempt.</p> +<p>“Well, what are you going to do now you’ve made +such a glorious hash of everything?” she demanded.</p> +<p>Micky passed a hand across his eyes.</p> +<p>“I don’t know. I’m trying to think. She can’t have +been gone long. She may still be in the village.” He +dragged out his watch. “There may not have been a +train up to London––”</p> +<p>“Yes, there was; the twelve-twenty–––” The eyes +of both of them turned to the clock, and Micky gave a +smothered groan.</p> +<p>“She must have gone by that. I must follow her, +of course.”</p> +<p>June bounced up.</p> +<p>“I’ll come with you; I’ll put on my hat again–––” +She made a dive for the door, but Micky caught her +arm and stopped her.</p> +<p>“You can’t; I can’t take you with me. Be sensible, +June––I’ll find her and bring her back–––”</p> +<p>She looked up at him stormily.</p> +<p>“She’s my friend, and it’s all your fault she’s got into +this mess. I told you not to interfere, and you wouldn’t +listen–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></div> +<p>It was a woman all over to rave at him now, but +Micky took it patiently.</p> +<p>“Very well, it’s my fault, and as it’s my fault it’s up +to me to try and put things right. Don’t waste time +arguing––if I’m to catch her before she leaves +England....”</p> +<p>June burst into fresh tears and sobs.</p> +<p>“You won’t be able to; she’ll get over there and have +to bear it all alone.... Oh, Micky, I almost hate +you when I think what we’ve done....”</p> +<p>Micky went out of the room; he went down to the +road and mechanically started up the car; he was getting +into his seat when June followed and called to him––</p> +<p>“You haven’t got your coat or cap, Micky.”</p> +<p>He came back; he hoisted himself into his coat, and +turned away again; June caught his hand.</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean to be a beast, Micky–––”</p> +<p>He gave her fingers a squeeze.</p> +<p>“I know; it’s all right; but don’t keep me, there’s a +dear.”</p> +<p>But she still clung to him.</p> +<p>“You’ll bring her back safely, Micky––promise.”</p> +<p>Micky turned away without answering.</p> +<p>“... I can’t live without him any longer....”</p> +<p>In spite of everything, that was how she still felt about +the brute.</p> +<p>When he got to the station he found there was no +train to town for a couple of hours; he asked a sleepy +porter an agitated question.</p> +<p>“Did you see a young lady go by the twelve-twenty––one +of the young ladies staying with Miss Dearling. Oh, +for heaven’s sake hurry up and answer, man!”</p> +<p>The man scratched an unshaven chin with irritating +consideration.</p> +<p>“Yes, I seen her,” he said at last. “She came in running––caught +the train to London––she....”</p> +<p>But Micky had gone; he would have to drive to town, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +he decided. If Esther had got to know the truth, better +hear it from him than from that brute.</p> +<p>He drove off at breakneck speed. It seemed miles and +miles to London; no matter how much of the winding +road he covered, it unfolded again before his eyes, and +mercilessly again.</p> +<p>He went straight to Charing Cross; he left the car in +the yard and dashed in to inquire about trains; he +searched a time-table; 12.59––3 o’clock––4.5 ... he +looked up at the clock––three minutes past four now. +Micky dashed across the big hall to a gate where a signboard +said “Dover Express”; he had no ticket; he pushed +by the protesting inspector; the guard was waving his +flag; some one grabbed at Micky and missed as he flung +himself breathless and panting into the last coach of +the moving train.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVII' id='CHAPTER_XXVII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +</div> +<p>Micky sat for a few moments breathless and exhausted +before he pulled himself together, and +taking off his hat wiped his hot forehead.</p> +<p>The train was gathering speed; he let down the window +with a run and looked out; the station was out of +sight altogether; they were crossing the bridge under +which the silent Thames flowed sluggishly.</p> +<p>A breath of cold air touched his hot face and he +shivered suddenly and drew the window up once more.</p> +<p>Something had driven his thoughts back to his first +meeting with Esther, to the cold silence of the night, +and the hard desperation of her voice as she said––</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean to go home any more––I shouldn’t +have ever gone home again if I hadn’t met you....”</p> +<p>If she got to Paris before he saw her she would feel +like this again. Micky groaned.</p> +<p>Fortunately he had the carriage to himself, but it +was a third-class compartment, and not a corridor carriage. +He cursed his luck here; if there had been a +corridor he could have gone the length of the train and +seen if Esther were on it. As it was, he would have to +wait till they reached Dover, and even then perhaps he +would never find her.</p> +<p>He tried to calm himself with the conviction that everything +would be all right, but in his heart he was despairing; +if he found Esther and brought her back she would +hate him for the rest of his life.</p> +<p>What had happened to make her rush off like this? +He could not imagine. She had seemed so happy only +that morning. What could account for the tragedy that +seemed to breathe in every word of that little note she +had left for June?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></div> +<p>He took it from his pocket and read it again. It +gave no hint of what had prompted this sudden flight. +He wrote out a couple of telegrams to dispatch from +Dover––one for June, and another for Driver.</p> +<p>He wished he had got Driver with him. There was +a sort of security in the man’s stolidness.</p> +<p>He realised that he was without luggage, and that he +had not much money. Supposing he had to go on to +Paris, what the dickens was he going to do?</p> +<p>When the train ran into Dover he got to his feet with +a sigh of relief. Quickly as he was out of the train a +great many passengers had left it before him. He started +at a run down the platform. He stared at every woman +he met, hoping it would be Esther. The crowd was +getting thick; he had to push his way unceremoniously +past people; porters with luggage trucks jostled him; +he began to lose his temper––he was just answering with +great heat a man who had cynically asked “who he was +shoving,” when some one touched his arm.</p> +<p>“Micky....”</p> +<p>For a moment Micky’s heart beat up in his throat; he +turned quickly and found himself looking down into the +brown eyes of Marie Deland.</p> +<p>If she had hoped for anything better, it must have +been a shock to her to see the bitter disappointment in +Micky’s face. He stammered out that he had not expected +to see her, that he was in a deuce of a hurry; +he hoped she would forgive him, but––</p> +<p>“Micky, by all that’s wonderful!” said another voice, +and there was Marie’s father, the good-natured old man +who had pretended to agree with his wife when she raved +against Micky for the cavalier way in which he had +treated his daughter, but who in his heart had indulged +in a quiet chuckle, thinking that Micky had been rather +clever to escape from the toils at the eleventh hour.</p> +<p>He shook hands with Micky heartily enough; he, at +any rate, had no grudge against him. He asked Micky +a hundred questions.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></div> +<p>“Are you going over, my boy? Come with us. I’ve +got a reserved carriage on the Paris express. Delighted +to see you. Marie and I are just off for a little holiday +by ourselves.”</p> +<p>He touched his daughter’s arm. “Ask him to join +us, my dear.”</p> +<p>Micky did his best to answer civilly; he was in the +deuce of a hurry, he said again; he had got to meet +a friend but had missed her in the crowd.</p> +<p>“I came off in the deuce of a hurry,” he said. He +was chafing bitterly at this enforced delay; each moment +was so precious.</p> +<p>Marie touched her father’s arm.</p> +<p>“We are only keeping Mr. Mellowes, Daddy....” +Something in her voice made Micky’s eyes smart. It +was hard luck that for the second time he was forced +to humiliate her. He stammered out incoherently that +he hoped they would forgive him, but he was in such +a deuce of a hurry.... He went off abruptly.</p> +<p>Everybody was off the train now, and many people +were already on the boat. Micky remembered that he +had no ticket; he entered into a hot argument with an +official, who listened to him skeptically, and took as long +as possible to make out the ticket; even when Micky had +paid he still looked suspicious.</p> +<p>The gangway was still down; Micky went on board +and stood as close to it as he could, scanning the face +of each passer.</p> +<p>Esther was not amongst them.</p> +<p>“Stand away there––stand away....”</p> +<p>Micky was pushed aside, and a couple of brawny seamen +hauled the gangway on to the harbour. The gap +of green water was widening slowly between the pier and +the ship’s side. Micky felt as if he were being exiled. +Supposing she was not on the boat?</p> +<p>He turned away and searched the crowded deck. The +boat was full, and most of the people were women, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +but there was nobody who looked in the very least like +Esther.</p> +<p>She would be wearing the fur coat, he was sure––the +coat he had given her!</p> +<p>One or two people stared at him curiously. Once he +came across Marie and her father on the leeward side +of the boat. For decency’s sake he had to stop. He +made an inane remark on the weather and said he thought +they were going to have a smooth crossing.</p> +<p>Marie’s brown eyes lifted to his.</p> +<p>“You haven’t met your friend?” she said quietly.</p> +<p>Micky had a horrible conviction that she had not believed +that he had any one to meet. He coloured in +confusion as he answered––</p> +<p>“No––no. I’m sorry to say I haven’t.”</p> +<p>She moved away leaving him with her father. The +old man slipped a hand through Micky’s arm.</p> +<p>“Don’t notice her, my boy; women are queer cattle––and +I expect she’s a little sore with you still.”</p> +<p>Micky wished it was possible to jump overboard. He +found the old man’s friendliness more insufferable than +the look of reproach in Marie’s eyes. As soon as he +could he got away; he went down the companion-way +and wandered round despondently.</p> +<p>If Esther were on the boat she must have seen him and +was deliberately keeping out of his way; he glanced in +at the open door of the ladies’ cabin as he passed.</p> +<p>Several pessimistic souls who had already made up +their minds to be ill, although the sea was like a mill-pond, +had arranged themselves on the couches, with +pillows under their heads; as Micky passed the cabin +some one slammed the door smartly in his face.</p> +<p>He went upon deck again and stood looking out to +sea, with the wind stinging his face.</p> +<p>It was getting dark rapidly; the lights of Dover twinkled +through the greyness. Micky stood and watched till +they could no longer be seen. He was chilled to the +bone in spite of his warm coat; he turned the collar +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +up round his throat and thrust his hands deeply into +his pockets.</p> +<p>His fingers came in contact with the telegrams he +had written in the train and forgotten to send. He swore +under his breath.</p> +<p>He kept out of the Delands’ way when they reached +Calais; he was first off the boat; he stood in the darkness +trembling with excitement.</p> +<p>There were all sorts of people pouring past him––men, +women, and children. They all seemed happy and eager––a +couple of Frenchmen standing near him chattered incessantly; +Micky moistened his dry lips; there was a +little nerve throbbing in his temple.</p> +<p>Supposing he never saw her again! His hands clenched +deep in his pockets ... supposing he never met the +half-shy glance of her grey eyes––supposing he never +heard her voice any more––or her laugh....</p> +<p>The sweat broke out on his forehead. For a moment +he closed his eyes with a sick feeling of hopelessness, +and when he opened them again he saw Esther standing +there not half a dozen paces from him.</p> +<p>The glare from a huge arc lamp shone full on her +slim figure and golden hair.</p> +<p>She was looking round her in a scared, apprehensive +way as if not knowing where to go.</p> +<p>A wave of such utter relief swept through Micky’s +very soul that for a moment it almost turned him faint.</p> +<p>She was quite alone, but as Micky watched her he +saw a French porter in a blue blouse go up to her and +start chattering away, pointing to the small suit-case she +carried and gesticulating violently. Esther shook her +head––Micky remembered that she knew no French––but +the man persisted, and she shook her head again +in a frightened sort of way.</p> +<p>Micky covered the distance between them in a couple +of strides.</p> +<p>“Esther....” he said, in a queer, choked sort of +voice.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span></div> +<p>She turned with a stifled scream, and a most unwilling +relief swept her face.</p> +<p>“Oh, Micky!” she said breathlessly. She put out her +hand as if to grip his arm, then drew it away, moving +back.</p> +<p>“How did you come here ... oh, how dare you +follow me...?” she said passionately.</p> +<p>Micky took her arm very gently.</p> +<p>“We found your note,” he said. “I had to come ... +June said....” Then suddenly his calmness broke +“Oh, thank God I found you––thank God!” he said +hoarsely.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXVIII' id='CHAPTER_XXVIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther seemed arrested by the emotion in Micky’s +voice.</p> +<p>She stood looking up at him with wide eyes and +parted lips, then suddenly she broke out again––</p> +<p>“I don’t know what you mean. I’ll never forgive June +if she sent you after me. I’m going to Paris. I’m not +a child to be followed and looked after like this.... +Let me go.”</p> +<p>Micky released her arm at once. When he spoke his +voice was quiet and rather stern.</p> +<p>“Please don’t make a scene. I have followed you +for your own sake. I know I can’t stop you from going +to Paris. I’m not going to try. All I do ask you is +that you will let me speak to you. If what I have to +say is useless, I give you my word of honour that I +will leave you here and let you go on to Paris alone.”</p> +<p>She looked at him with stormy eyes.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it––it isn’t the first time you’ve lied +to me....” she broke off breathlessly. Micky turned +pale, but he answered evenly enough––</p> +<p>“You’re quite justified in saying that; I’m not going +to try and deny it. But we can’t stand here all night––people +are beginning to stare at us....”</p> +<p>“I don’t care–––” but she dropped her voice a little, +and when Micky made a slight movement forward she +followed.</p> +<p>It was cold on the quay––there was a fresh wind blowing, +and Esther shivered.</p> +<p>“There’s a restaurant place here,” Micky said. “I +want a meal if you don’t; I haven’t had anything since +breakfast.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></div> +<p>He found a table and ordered a meal, but he knew +he should not be able to eat a thing.</p> +<p>“I don’t want anything to eat,” Esther said. She sat +sideways in her chair away from the table; there was a +pitiable look of strain in her face; she still gripped her +suit-case tightly. When Micky asked her to be allowed +to put it down for her she turned on him almost fiercely.</p> +<p>“Leave me alone––oh, leave me alone!”</p> +<p>The French garcon eyed them both interestedly. Any +one far less keen of perception than he was could have +seen that there was tragedy of some kind between this +pretty, frail-looking girl and the tall man in the big coat.</p> +<p>“You said you were hungry, but you’re not eating anything,” +Esther broke out irritably. “How much longer +are you going to make me sit here? I want to catch a +train to Paris to-night.”</p> +<p>“There are no trains, except slow ones,” Micky told +her; “the express has gone half an hour ago. I can +find you rooms in a hotel close by for the night....” +His eyes met hers across the table, and he broke out, +“Esther, for God’s sake let me explain things to you. +You’ve all your life before you; to-morrow, if you wish +it, I’ll go away and never see you again. But I can’t +let you go now without telling you the truth. I ought +to have told you before––it was for your own sake I +tried to keep it back....”</p> +<p>Her grey eyes searched his face disbelievingly.</p> +<p>“If you’ve anything to say against Mr. Ashton,” she +said, “I refuse to listen. I shouldn’t believe anything +you say, for one thing. Why, you don’t even know +his name––unless June has told you,” she added breathlessly.</p> +<p>“June has told me nothing, but I know, all the same. +I knew the first night I ever met you––when I left you +and went back to my rooms, he was there waiting for +me....”</p> +<p>She half turned, leaning across the table, and her eyes +were like fire.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></div> +<p>“He was there––who was there?” she asked shrilly.</p> +<p>“Ashton––Raymond Ashton,” Micky answered.</p> +<p>There was a tragic silence, then Esther rose to her +feet; she stood looking dazedly round her in a helpless +sort of way.</p> +<p>Micky called for the bill––without waiting for his +change he followed Esther out into the darkness. She +offered no resistance when he drew her hand through +his arm. He did not know what on earth to do with +her; if he took her to an hotel it would mean leaving +her, and she would probably go away in the night. They +went back to the station, and Micky found a waiting-room +with a roaring fire; he dragged one of the uncomfortable +wooden benches close to it and made Esther sit +down; he closed the door and came back to her.</p> +<p>There was so much he wanted to say, and for the +life of him he did not know how to begin. She sat +there so silently; she seemed to have forgotten his presence +altogether.</p> +<p>Micky looked at her, and suddenly he broke out––</p> +<p>“Esther, speak to me––say something––for heaven’s +sake–––”</p> +<p>She moved in a curiously heavy sort of way, as if +it were an effort; she raised her eyes to his agitated +face.</p> +<p>“This morning––was it only this morning?––it seems +so long ago.” She stopped for a moment, then went on +again slowly. “When we were at that inn in the village––those +men with the car––I heard them talking....” +She stopped again.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Micky.</p> +<p>She frowned as if his monosyllable had interrupted +her train of thought. She went on presently––</p> +<p>“They were talking about Paris––and Raymond.” And +now she raised her eyes. “If you say that it was true +what I heard them say, I will kill you,” she said with +sudden passion. “It’s a lie––just a lie to hurt me, to +hurt me more than I’ve been hurt already.” She stopped, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +panting. “It’s a lie––say it’s a lie,” she drove the words +at him.</p> +<p>Micky sat down beside her.</p> +<p>“If they said that Ashton had been married in Paris +to Mrs. Clare it was the truth,” he said.</p> +<p>He marvelled at the steadiness of his voice. He felt +sick with shame at the part he was having to play. He +went on incoherently––</p> +<p>“I knew it before you ever went to Enmore––it was +in the London papers. I was afraid you would see it. +I persuaded June to get you down into the country. I +suppose I was a fool. I ought to have known it was +only putting things off.”</p> +<p>He looked at her and quickly away again.</p> +<p>“Forget him, Esther, for God’s sake. He never cared +for you; he isn’t worth a thought.”</p> +<p>She rose to her feet, pushing the hair back from her +face as if she were distraught.</p> +<p>“How dare you say such things to me?” she said in +an odd, choked voice. “You always hated him––you +and June. Do you think I’m going to believe you? Do +you think I could believe you for a moment when I have +his letters––when he has shown me in so many ways +how he cares?... I don’t care what you say––I +don’t care if the whole world were to tell me it was +true––I’ll never believe it till he tells me himself....” +Her breath came gaspingly; she looked at Micky’s white +face with passionate hatred in her eyes.</p> +<p>“How do I know it isn’t all a made-up story?” she +asked him hoarsely.</p> +<p>She hardly knew what she was saying; she leaned +her arms on the mantelshelf and hid her face in them.</p> +<p>Micky let her alone; he got up and began pacing up +and down the room.</p> +<p>He deserved everything she had said; it was all his +fault that she had got this to bear. With the best intentions +in the world he had proved himself a blundering +fool.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span></div> +<p>Esther raised her head; she had not shed a tear, but +her face was white and desolate.</p> +<p>She walked past him to the door.</p> +<p>“I’m going on to Paris to-night,” she said. “Nothing +you can say will stop me––nothing.”</p> +<p>“Very well, then I will come with you.”</p> +<p>She did not answer; she fumbled helplessly with the +door handle. Micky came forward to open it for her, +and their hands touched. A little flame of red rushed +to his face; he put his shoulders to the door.</p> +<p>“You can’t go like this,” he said stammering. “How +can I let you go like this? Whatever I’ve done, I haven’t +deserved that you should think as badly of me as you +do. It was because I cared for you so much––I tried +to save you pain ... perhaps it isn’t any excuse, +but it’s the truth.... I’d give my very soul if I +could undo what’s gone, if I could save you from this.”</p> +<p>She was not looking at him, but the cold contempt +in her face stung him.</p> +<p>“You may despise me,” he broke out again jaggedly. +“But it’s the truth I’ve told you.... Ashton never +cared for you; that night at my rooms....” He +stopped, he did not want to tell her, but somehow there +was a compelling force within him that drove the words +to his lips.</p> +<p>“He told me he’d had to break with you––that he was +going away from London because of you. He said he +must marry a woman with money––it’s the truth, if I +never speak again. He never cared for you, Esther––he +was never fit to kiss the ground you walk on. He +wanted to be rid of you––he–––”</p> +<p>Micky stopped; Esther had given a little strangled +cry, half-sob, half-moan, like some animal in mortal pain; +for the moment she saw the world red; hardly knowing +what she did, she lifted her hand and struck Micky +across his white face.</p> +<p>“Oh, you liar––you liar,” she said. The words were +a hoarse whisper, her voice was almost gone.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span></div> +<p>She fell away from him, shaking in every limb; she +dropped into a chair hiding her face.</p> +<p>Micky stood like a man turned to stone. She had not +hurt him physically, though there was a red flush where +she had struck him, but he felt as if the blow had fallen +on his aching heart and his love for her.</p> +<p>It seemed a long time before either of them moved or +spoke, then Esther dragged herself to her feet.</p> +<p>“Please let me pass,” she said in a whisper, and Micky +stood aside without a word.</p> +<p>He followed her out and inquired for a train; there +was a slow one at ten-fifty they told him. He put Esther +into a carriage and got a rug for her and a cushion. He +knew she had had nothing to eat, and he ordered a basket +to be made up at the refreshment-room. When he came +back she was sitting in a corner with her eyes closed. She +had taken off her hat, and her golden hair was tumbled +about her face. She took no notice when he put the +rug over her; she did not even open her eyes when the +train started.</p> +<p>Micky sat down in the opposite corner. He felt more +tired than he had ever done in all his life, and yet he +knew that he could not sleep; his brain seemed as if it +would never rest again. He sat with face averted from +the girl in the corner, looking out into the darkness.</p> +<p>It seemed strange to realise that he had made this +same journey dozens of times before. He felt that it +was all strange and distasteful to him. The chattering +voices of the French porters and the whistle of the engines +sounded new and quaint as if he had never heard +them before. It seemed an eternity before the train +started slowly away.</p> +<p>He leaned back and closed his eyes; his head was splitting, +and he was cold and hungry.</p> +<p>He must have dozed for a few minutes, for he was +roused by a little choking sound of sobbing. He opened +his eyes––he was awake at once––he looked across at +Esther. She was lying huddled up, with her face turned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +against the dirty cushions of the carriage, sobbing her +heart out.</p> +<p>Micky looked at her in miserable indecision. Then +he got up impulsively, and sat down opposite to where +Esther was huddled.</p> +<p>He stretched out his hand and took hers.</p> +<p>“Don’t cry––don’t; I can’t bear it,” he said hoarsely. +He raised her hand to his lips. She had taken off her +gloves and her fingers felt like ice. He chafed them +gently between his own. She still wore the cheap little +ring which Ashton had given her months ago.</p> +<p>She let her hand lie passively in his. Perhaps she +was too miserable to remember that it was Micky, and +only realised that there was something kind and comforting +in his touch. Presently her sobs quieted. She +wiped the tears from her face and brushed back her +disordered hair.</p> +<p>Micky got up and took down the supper basket he +had managed to get at the station. There was a small +thermos of hot coffee. He poured some out and made +her drink it. If he had expected her to refuse he was +agreeably disappointed. She obeyed apathetically; she +even ate some sandwiches.</p> +<p>Micky was ravenous himself, but he would not touch +a thing till she had finished.</p> +<p>“You’d be much more comfortable if you put your +feet up on the seat and tried to sleep,” he said presently. +“You can have my coat as well as the rug. Your +hands are like ice.”</p> +<p>He took off his coat as he spoke and laid it over her.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid we’ve got a long journey yet,” he said +ruefully. “If you could get some sleep.”</p> +<p>She turned her head away and closed her eyes.</p> +<p>She looked very young and appealing in the depressing +light of the carriage.</p> +<p>Micky sat looking at her in silence. She cared so +little for him that she had even forgotten her anger +against him; nothing he could do or say really mattered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +to her, she was not sufficiently interested in him to even +trouble to hate him for long.</p> +<p>He wondered what June was thinking, and Miss Dearling! +He wished from the depths of his soul that he +had remembered to send those wires. There was his +car, too––he had left that in the yard at Charing Cross––what +the dickens would become of it?––not that it mattered +much, he was too miserable to be seriously concerned +about anything.</p> +<p>Some minutes passed, but Esther did not move. Micky +spoke her name once softly––</p> +<p>“Esther....” But she did not answer; he leaned +over and touched her hand, but she did not stir; in spite +of what she had said she was asleep.</p> +<p>Micky gave a sigh of relief. He drew his coat and +the rug more closely around her; he was very cold himself, +but that did not trouble him; he finished the contents +of the supper basket before he went back to his +own corner.</p> +<p>The train rumbled on through the night; it dragged +into many little stations and stopped jerkily, but Esther +did not wake.</p> +<p>Once when she moved and the rug slipped, Micky +rose and quietly replaced it. He was very tired himself, +but his brain would not allow him to sleep; he felt as if he +were living through years during these long hours.</p> +<p>He sat looking at Esther with wistful eyes. Why +was it that people never fell in love with the right people? +he asked himself vaguely. He could have made her so +happy.</p> +<p>He closed his eyes for a moment, then dragged them +open again. He must not go to sleep, whatever happened. +He sat up stiffly.</p> +<p>Presently he lifted a corner of the blind. The sky +looked a little lighter, as if dawn were not far away. +He looked at his watch. Nearly two!</p> +<p>A sudden impulse came to him to wake Esther and +make her listen now to what he had to say. The time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +was getting short, and there was so much to tell her and +explain.</p> +<p>He rose and bent over her, but she did not move, and +he went back again to his corner.</p> +<p>He let the window down a little way, hoping the cold +night air would help to keep him awake. The minutes +seemed to drag, though in reality only a quarter of an +hour had passed when Esther woke with a little smothered +cry.</p> +<p>Micky was on his feet in an instant.</p> +<p>“It’s all right––there’s nothing to be afraid of––you’ve +been asleep.”</p> +<p>She rubbed her eyes childishly with her knuckles; she +stared at him for a moment unrecognisingly, then, as +memory returned, she shrank back into her corner.</p> +<p>Micky picked up the rug and coat that had slithered +to the floor; he waited a few moments till he saw that +she was quite awake before he spoke, then he said +gently––</p> +<p>“I hope you feel better. We shall soon be in now. +Are you warm enough?”</p> +<p>“Yes, thank you.”</p> +<p>“We shall be into Paris very soon,” he said again; +“and there is a great deal I want to say to you first. +Will you listen to me if I try to explain?”</p> +<p>She met his eyes unflinchingly.</p> +<p>“There is only one man who can possibly explain anything +to me,” she said then, “and he is not you.”</p> +<p>Micky lost his temper; he was cold and tired and +hungry, and at that moment she seemed the most unreasonable +of mortals.</p> +<p>“I shall not allow you to see Ashton, if you mean Ashton,” +he said roughly. “The man isn’t fit for you to +think about. He’s married, you know that ... Esther, +for your own sake–––”</p> +<p>She had turned her face away and was looking out +into the darkness; she seemed not to be listening.</p> +<p>Micky went on urgently.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></div> +<p>“I blame myself. I always meant to tell you before +things had gone as far as this. I shall never forgive +myself for not having done so. I’ve behaved like a cad, +but my only excuse is that I loved you; I wanted to +spare you unnecessary pain–––” He was no longer +stammering and self-conscious, his voice was firm and +steady. “I suppose I was a fool to imagine that I could +ever make you care for me; I suppose it was conceit +that led me to think I could ever cut out this ... this +phantom lover of yours–––” He laughed mirthlessly.</p> +<p>“Esther, let me take you back home; it’s no use seeing +Ashton––it only means humiliation and pain for you.”</p> +<p>Her lips moved, but no words came.</p> +<p>“Let me take you home to June,” he went on. “She +will tell you that what I say is only the truth. She +knows him––she....”</p> +<p>She spoke then.</p> +<p>“She always hated him; it isn’t likely she would wish +me to marry him.” She bit her lip. “Oh, it’s no use +saying any more,” she broke out wildly after a moment. +“I’m going to see him––I can’t bear it if I don’t see +him––just once! I’ve got to hear the truth–––”</p> +<p>“I’ve told you the truth,” he repeated doggedly. “It’s +no interest to me to try and prevent you from seeing +him. I know I’ve done for whatever chance I had with +you. Oh, for heaven’s sake believe that it’s only for +your sake I want to take you back!”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>In her heart she found it impossible to believe him; +she thought of the letters she had received from Raymond, +the money––the presents––why even this coat she +wore had come from him; she felt that she could laugh +at this man opposite to her. A little smile curved her +lips; a contemptuous smile it seemed to Micky.</p> +<p>For the first time the injustice of it all seemed to +strike him; for him who had done his best she had nothing +but dislike and contempt, but for the man who had +left her with a brutal letter of farewell, who had thrown +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +her over because she had no money, she had endless faith +and trust, and love!</p> +<p>He broke out in his agitation.</p> +<p>“I’ve tried to spare you––I’ve done my best, but you +won’t let me ... I’ve kept back the truth, but now +you’ll have to hear it if nothing else will keep you from +him. He’s never given you a thought since he left London––he +imagines that you’ve forgotten him. It was +he you saw at the Comedy Theatre that night when June +and I were with you. He didn’t even trouble to let you +know that he was in London––that’s how he cares for +you––this man you refuse to believe one word against +...” His eyes flamed as they met hers.</p> +<p>She was staring at him now; her face was white and +incredulous.</p> +<p>“If you––if you think I’m going to believe that–––” +she began, in a high, unnatural voice. She stopped; she +seemed to realise all at once that he was speaking the +truth. She leaned towards him. Her breath came in +broken gasps.</p> +<p>“Those letters!” she said shrilly. “Whose letters? +They were from him––they were from him––weren’t +they from him?” she asked hoarsely.</p> +<p>“No,” said Micky doggedly.</p> +<p>Better to hurt her now, he told himself, than to let +her go on to worse pain and humiliation.</p> +<p>There was a tragic silence; then she asked again, in +a whisper––</p> +<p>“Then who––who wrote them?”</p> +<p>A wave of crimson flooded Micky’s white face. He +dropped his head in his hands as if he could not bear +to meet her eyes.</p> +<p>“I did,” he said brokenly.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIX' id='CHAPTER_XXIX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> +</div> +<p>A long moment of silence followed Micky’s broken +confession. He dared not look at Esther, though +she was staring at him, staring hard, with a curious +sort of wonderment in her grey eyes. Then all at once +she began to laugh, a laugh which held no real mirth, +only incredulity.</p> +<p>Micky raised his head sharply.</p> +<p>For a second they stared at one another; then Micky +said hoarsely––</p> +<p>“You don’t believe me”; and then again, more slowly: +“You mean that you––don’t believe––me?”</p> +<p>He half rose to his feet.</p> +<p>“Esther, I implore you.”</p> +<p>She moved back from him.</p> +<p>“It was clever of you––to think of such an excuse,” +she said unevenly.</p> +<p>“It’s the truth; I swear it if I never speak again. I +know now that I must have been out of my mind to attempt +such a thing, but it has only seemed impossible +since you showed me how little you thought of me. I +wrote those letters––every one of them. I–––”</p> +<p>In the excitement of the moment neither of them had +noticed that the train had reached its destination and +was slowly stopping.</p> +<p>A voluble porter had already wrenched open the door +and was imploring monsieur to accept his services; it +was impossible to say any more to Esther.</p> +<p>Micky followed her out on to the platform; he felt +that the last shred of his patience and tenderness had +been killed.</p> +<p>She did not believe him––whatever he said she would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +never believe him; it was useless to waste his breath; +he might as well give up and let her go her own way; +perhaps a sharp lesson would teach her better and more +quickly than all his love had been able to do.</p> +<p>He was dispirited and hungry, and hunger alone makes +a man angry. He looked at the girl for whose sake he +had raced all these miles of wild-goose chase, and a +boorish longing to hurt her, to let her suffer rose in +his heart.</p> +<p>Let her go to Ashton and see for herself the sort of +man he was.</p> +<p>He spoke with savage impulse.</p> +<p>“I won’t bother you with my unwelcome company any +longer. You will be able to get breakfast in the restaurant, +and you will find that most people here understand +English.... Good-bye–––”</p> +<p>Esther gave a little gasp––</p> +<p>“You’re not going to leave me?”</p> +<p>The hardness of his eyes did not soften.</p> +<p>“You are not trying to tell me that you wish me to +stay, surely?” he submitted drily.</p> +<p>She raised her head.</p> +<p>“Certainly not; after all, it’s your own fault you came.”</p> +<p>He did not answer, perhaps he could not trust himself; +he raised his hat and turned away unseeingly, and +Esther clutched her suit-case tightly and walked away +with her head in the air, trying to look as if she knew +every inch of the Gare St. Lazare and had been there +thousands of times before.</p> +<p>But her heart was beating up in her throat, and she +would have given a great deal, had it been compatible +with dignity, to rush after him and beg him to stay.</p> +<p>She wandered out of the station, not knowing where +to go, Raymond seemed to have faded into the background; +she only thought of him subconsciously; it was +the figure of Micky Mellowes that worried her––she +could not forget him.</p> +<p>Supposing he had really written those letters? “But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +he didn’t,” she told herself in an agony. “I know he +didn’t.”</p> +<p>She took one of the letters from her suit-case and +stared at the handwriting––Raymond’s writing. The +whole thing was too preposterous.</p> +<p>She did not know what she meant to do, or where +she meant to go; it no longer seemed that she had come +here for any specific purpose.</p> +<p>The early morning greyness and chilliness had faded; +the sun had risen and cleared away the mists.</p> +<p>She found herself in some gardens where an elderly +man was feeding sparrows; she sat down on a bench +and watched him.</p> +<p>It seemed years ago that she went down to Enmore +with June––since she sat in the little inn with Micky and +heard those two men talking.</p> +<p>The hot blood beat into her cheeks as she remembered +something that for the moment she had forgotten––that +Raymond Ashton was married!</p> +<p>The man gave the sparrows his last crumbs and went +away. The little brown birds came hopping to Esther’s +feet, looking up at her with bright, eager eyes, as if +expecting her to supply a further meal.</p> +<p>The sun faded and went in, and a few drops of rain +came pattering down. She rose and began to walk on +slowly. The light suit-case seemed to have grown heavy +since yesterday.</p> +<p>At the back of her mind was the frightened knowledge +that she was alone in Paris; that she had nobody +to turn to now that Micky had deserted her; but as +yet it was only in the background. Raymond was somewhere, +perhaps quite close; but she no longer felt that +she wanted to go to him.</p> +<p>Further on she found another bench sheltered under +some trees and sat down again; she opened the suit-case +and took out a bundle of Micky’s letters ... +Micky’s! No, Raymond’s.... Oh, whose letters +were they?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></div> +<p>She opened the one that had been written from the +hotel in Paris. Its fond words seemed to take on a new +meaning....</p> +<p>“Some day, if all that I wish for comes true, I will +tell you the many things you would not let me say +when we were last together....”</p> +<p>The one sentence caught her eye. She wondered that +she had never before thought how unlike Raymond this +was. Why was it she had not realised before that Raymond +could never have written this?</p> +<p>Somewhere in the distance a church clock chimed; +Esther found herself mechanically counting the bells––nine, +ten, eleven! All those hours since Micky had left +her at the station.</p> +<p>She was cold and hungry, but it did not seem to matter; +she felt there was a great, unanswered question in +her mind which she must settle.</p> +<p>She rose and walked on again; she turned out of the +gardens and found herself in a street of shops. People +looked at her curiously.</p> +<p>Hardly knowing that she did so, she stopped and +looked in at a jeweller’s window; there were trays of +precious stones. She felt her own ring beneath the +glove––she had worn it so long now, she wondered how +she would feel when she had to take it off. Of course, +she could not go on wearing it if Raymond was really +married.</p> +<p>Micky had once gone into a pond on a bitter night to +save a kitten from drowning; she wondered what made +her remember that.</p> +<p>The man who could save a drowning kitten would +never hurt a woman so that she could hardly think or +feel; June had claimed for Micky that he was the best +man in the world.</p> +<p>“But I don’t believe in him––I don’t believe anything +he says,” Esther told herself feverishly; she moved on +again away from the trays of flashing diamonds.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span></div> +<p>Two girls passing her were chattering in French––Esther +looked after them vaguely.</p> +<p>This was really Paris––this rather noisy, confusing +place; the Paris she had longed to see.</p> +<p>A man passing stared at her, half stopped, went on +again, then turned, paused irresolutely, and finally came +back.</p> +<p>He walked quickly till he drew abreast with her, and +there was a curious eagerness in his face as he stooped +a little to look down at hers; then he gave an exclamation +of sheer amazement.</p> +<p>“Lallie! Good heavens! What in the world are you +doing here?”</p> +<p>It was Raymond Ashton.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXX' id='CHAPTER_XXX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> +</div> +<p>And so the dream had come true after all, and she +and Raymond were together in Paris.</p> +<p>As she looked up into his handsome face it +seemed to Esther that all the past hours of grief were +as if they had never really existed; he was smiling down +at her in the same old way; the very tone of his voice +awoke forgotten memories in her heart; she felt as if +a gnawing pain which had allowed her no rest had suddenly +been lulled to sleep.</p> +<p>“I thought it must be you,” Raymond was saying nervously. +“And yet I could not be sure. Somehow I +never thought of you and Paris as being in any way +compatible, and yet–––” He broke off; it had been on +the tip of his tongue to say that she had never looked +sweeter or more desirable.</p> +<p>His overwhelming conceit suddenly woke the wish +in his heart to know if she still cared, or if she had +forgotten him, and a little flush crossed his face and his +eyes grew tender as they met the tragedy of hers; he +looked hastily round.</p> +<p>“We can’t talk here. Will you come to a café? There +is so much I should like to say to you. When did you +come over? What are you doing here?”</p> +<p>They were walking slowly along, the man’s head bent +ardently towards her.</p> +<p>He had once told Micky that this girl was the only +woman he had ever loved, and perhaps it was right––as +he accounted love.</p> +<p>He took her to a café––one where there would be +nobody likely to recognise him; he ordered coffee and +biscuits.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></div> +<p>“Now we can talk undisturbed,” he said; he moved his +chair closer to Esther’s––he laid his hand on hers.</p> +<p>She did not move or try to evade his touch; she just +looked down at his hand for a moment and then up at +the handsome face which had for so long meant all the +world to her.</p> +<p>“I never thought we should meet again here of all +places,” he said in his soft voice. “How long ago does +it seem to you since we said good-bye?”</p> +<p>She could not answer, but the thought floated through +her mind that they never had said good-bye, that he had +just walked out of her life and stayed away until this +moment, when fate had thrown them together.</p> +<p>“If you knew how often I have thought about you,” +he said.</p> +<p>“Did you get my letter, Lallie? The one I wrote on +New Year’s Eve––and the money? I sent you some +money.”</p> +<p>A swift flush dyed her cheeks; she raised her eyes.</p> +<p>That had been his letter then, after all––Micky had +lied to her; she caught her breath on a little gasp.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said faintly. “Yes––yes, I got it––thank +you.”</p> +<p>“I’ve often thought since that I might have written +you a kinder letter,” he said after a moment. “But +everything had gone wrong then––the mater cut up +rough––and I was up to my eyes in debt. It was the +best thing for both of us to put an end to it, don’t you +think it was? You used to say that you wouldn’t mind +being poor, but in the end you’d have hated it as much +as I should.” He paused as if expecting her to speak, +but she was plucking at the blue-and-white fringe of +the tablecloth with nervous fingers.</p> +<p>What did he mean––that he might have written her a +kinder letter––when she always remembered it as one +of the dearest she had ever received?</p> +<p>He went on again––</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></div> +<p>“It hurt me more than you’ll ever know.” There was +a sort of self-satisfaction in his voice. “It took me a +long time to forget you, Lallie, and then, just as I was +beginning, I saw you at the theatre––in the stalls ... +with Mellowes.” His brows met above his handsome +eyes. “Mellowes wasn’t long picking you up,” he added +jealously.</p> +<p>Her lip quivered, but she did not raise her eyes.</p> +<p>“You saw me, too, didn’t you?” he persisted. “I know +you did, because Mellowes came round afterwards and +cursed me to all eternity.” He laughed. “I should have +made a point of seeing you the next day if it hadn’t +been for his confounded interference,” he went on. “He +told me to get out of London and leave you alone.” He +bent towards her a little. “What is Mellowes to you?” +he asked her deliberately.</p> +<p>She raised her eyes now, and somehow it seemed as +if, in the last few moments, the man she had known and +loved had changed into a stranger––some one whom she +had never seen before, whom she hoped never to see +again.</p> +<p>She forced her lips to smile; she felt at that moment +she would die rather than let him see how she was suffering, +or guess how she had suffered in the past.</p> +<p>“He’s been kind to me,” she said voicelessly. “That’s +all.”</p> +<p>Raymond made a little, inarticulate sound.</p> +<p>“He’s got me to thank for ever getting to know you,” +he said. “I gave him your address and asked him to +take you out a bit if he fancied it.... I asked him +to be kind to you.”</p> +<p>The hands in her lap twitched convulsively.</p> +<p>“If I’d had one tenth of his beastly money,” Raymond +said then savagely, “we shouldn’t be sitting here +now as if we were strangers––as if ... Lallie––do +you remember the good time we used to have–––”</p> +<p>“I remember everything.” He bent closer.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></div> +<p>“I never cared for any woman in all my life but you. +It’s cursed hard luck.” He sighed. “You know I’m +married?” he asked abruptly.</p> +<p>“Oh yes!” The words came stiffly.</p> +<p>His eyes searched her white face jealously.</p> +<p>“You don’t seem to care. I’ve often wondered if you +knew––and if you minded!” He sat staring before him, +and there was a little smile in his eyes. “We do things +in style now, I can tell you,” he said with sudden change +of voice. “She’s as rich as you please, and she likes to +spend her money.” Another silence.</p> +<p>“I hope you’ll be happy,” Esther said faintly.</p> +<p>Afterwards she wondered what made her say it, seeing +that she did not care in the very least if he were +happy or not; why should she care? This man was a +stranger to her.</p> +<p>He laughed ruefully.</p> +<p>“Oh, I suppose we shall,” he said. “She’s not a bad +sort, and she lets me alone....” He roused himself +suddenly and bent closer to her. “Lallie––you’ll let me +see you again. There’s no reason why we can’t be––friends––just +because I’m married–––” He tried to +take her hand, but now she repulsed him, though very +gently.</p> +<p>“You’re not going to be a little prude?” he said in a +whisper. “I can give you the time of your life if you’ll +let me. I’ve plenty of money now–––”</p> +<p>“Your wife’s money,” said Esther with stiff lips.</p> +<p>He looked annoyed.</p> +<p>“If you like to put it that way––but she doesn’t mind––she’s +too fond of me to mind how much I spend ... +Lallie–––” She hated to hear that name, because once +she had loved it.</p> +<p>She closed her eyes for a moment with a little sick +shudder.</p> +<p>“Are you faint?” he asked anxiously. “I suppose it +is warm in here. Take your coat off! Jove! that’s a +fine coat–––” He ran an appreciative hand down the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +soft fur sleeve; a sudden suspicion crept into his eyes. +“Who gave you that?” he asked sharply. “Not Mellowes–––?”</p> +<p>“No––at least....” She could not go on. Micky +had given it to her, she knew, but she would have bitten +her tongue through rather than have told this man.</p> +<p>It had been Micky all the time––Micky....</p> +<p>She thrust the thought of him from her; she did not +want to think of him now. There would be plenty of +time later on; plenty of time when she had shaken +off the last rag of the past.</p> +<p>“It cost a pretty penny, whoever bought it,” he said +sulkily. “What else has he given you? If you can take +presents from him you can’t refuse to let me see you +sometimes, and after all––you did love me once.... +Esther, do you remember the way you cried that last +day?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said mechanically, “I remember; I remember +everything.”</p> +<p>“You loved me well enough then,” he reminded her +moodily. “You didn’t behave like an iceberg then, Lallie, +and I’m not really changed; I’m the same man I was––I +care for you just as much–––”</p> +<p>“You’re married!” she said.</p> +<p>She felt as if she had so much time mapped out before +her during which she must put up with this man’s +society; as if each moment were another inch torn in +the rags of disillusionment which had got to be destroyed +thoroughly before she could ever hope to gather up the +broken threads of her life again.</p> +<p>He laughed at her reminder.</p> +<p>“I’m not the only married man who sometimes forgets +that he is no longer a bachelor,” he said detestably.</p> +<p>He laid an arm familiarly along the back of her chair. +He touched her chin with his fingers.</p> +<p>She moved back, the hot blood rushing riotously over +her face. She was white no longer; she looked like a +marble Galatea suddenly brought to life.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span></div> +<p>Raymond Ashton laughed, well pleased. He was confident +that he had not lost his power over her. For the +moment his appalling vanity blinded him to the fact that +it was not love in her eyes, but scorn.</p> +<p>“What are you thinking, Lallie?” he asked her.</p> +<p>She sat very straight and stiff in her chair.</p> +<p>“I am thinking,” she said, “how impossible it seems +that I can ever have thought that I cared for you.” Her +voice was low but very clear, and he heard each word +distinctly. “I am thinking that you are the most contemptible +thing I have ever met in my life––I am thinking +how sorry I am for the woman who is your wife.”</p> +<p>She pushed back her chair and rose.</p> +<p>“Would you like to hear any more of my thoughts?” +she asked.</p> +<p>Ashton had risen too; there was a look of bewildered +amazement in his face; he tried to laugh. Even now he +thought she was joking.</p> +<p>“Lallie––” he said hoarsely. He half held his hand to +her. “Lallie––” he said again––but the cold contempt +of her face struck the appeal from her lips.</p> +<p>He drew himself up with a poor attempt at dignity.</p> +<p>“So virtue is to be the order of the day, is it?” he +said sneeringly. “Very well–––” His eyes flamed as +they rested on her face. “It makes one wonder why +you are here––in Paris––alone!” he said insultingly––“If +you are alone.”</p> +<p>There was a little point of silence. For a moment +Esther scanned his handsome face as if she were trying +to remember what it was she had ever loved in him––his +eyes!––but they were so cruel and insolent––his lips +... she shuddered, realising that in all her life she +could never undo the memory of his kisses––then she +pulled herself together with a great effort and turned +away.</p> +<p>He followed. His amazement had gone now––he was +merely furiously angry––his face was crimson––he caught +her arm in a grip that hurt.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span></div> +<p>“My God, you’re not going like this,” he said furiously. +“It’s only a few weeks ago that you were crying round +my neck and begging me not to throw you over. Oh, +that hurts, does it?” he said as she winced. “I dare say +you’d like all that wiped out and forgotten. But I’ve +got a few letters to remember you by––a few letters that +would hardly make pleasant reading for the next man +who is fool enough to waste his time on you––and I +promise you I’ll send them along if it’s Mellowes or any +other man–––”</p> +<p>She raised triumphant eyes to his face.</p> +<p>“He wouldn’t read them,” she said passionately. “Send +them if you like; but he wouldn’t read them–––” She +was not conscious of the admission in her words––she +only knew that the knowledge that Micky was there +somewhere in the background gave her the strength to +defy Ashton.</p> +<p>She saw the sudden fury that filled his eyes.</p> +<p>“Then––then you admit that it’s Mellowes,” he stammered. +“That it’s he who has taken my place––who +has cut me out–––” His voice changed to a sort of +threat.</p> +<p>“I might have know what he meant to do. I might +have guessed. Wait till I see him––wait till I get back +to London.”</p> +<p>Esther smiled––a little smile of security and confidence.</p> +<p>“There is no need to wait,” she said quietly. “Mr. +Mellowes is here in Paris with me, if you wish to see +him.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXI' id='CHAPTER_XXXI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> +</div> +<p>Ashton echoed Esther’s words hoarsely.</p> +<p>“Here! With you! in Paris!... Micky–––”</p> +<p>A wave of bitterest jealousy surged through him. +He fell back a step, struck dumb by the force of his +emotions, and Esther fled away from him down the street.</p> +<p>She seemed to have awakened all at once to her true +position. She was alone, with only a few shillings in her +pocket and in a strange city.</p> +<p>She was tired to death. She felt as if her limbs would +give way beneath her. The driver of a fiacre looked at +her and drew his horse to the kerb.</p> +<p>Esther nodded; she threw her suit-case on to the seat +and clambered in after it.</p> +<p>But where to go? The old blinding fear of her loneliness +rushed back. Where could she go?</p> +<p>Then she suddenly remembered the hotel from which +Micky had written to her. She would go there. It would +be somewhere at least to sleep and rest.</p> +<p>It was only a little drive to the hotel; she wished it +had been longer.</p> +<p>A commissionaire came forward, and said something +in French. She looked up at him, but his face seemed +all indistinct and unreal. She tried to answer, but her +own voice sounded as if it were miles away.</p> +<p>They were in the small, rather dreary lounge. Esther +passed a hand across her eyes. She must conquer this +absurd weakness. She forced herself to remember that +she was alone, but she felt as if she had no will-power +left.</p> +<p>A door in front of her opened suddenly, and a man +came into the lounge.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span></div> +<p>When he saw Esther he stopped. The hot colour +rushed to his face. He seemed to be waiting for some +sign from her. For a moment their eyes met; then, +hardly knowing what she did, Esther held out her hand.</p> +<p>“Oh, please,” she said faintly, “oh, please tell me––what +I am to do?”</p> +<p>But for the next few minutes she was past remembering +anything, though she never really lost consciousness. +She only knew that everything was all right now +Micky was here––and the sheer relief the knowledge +brought with it for the time threw her into a sort of +apathy.</p> +<p>Some one took off her hat and the big fur coat that +had grown so heavy; some one had bathed her face and +unlaced her shoes, and now Micky stood there looking +down at her with eyes that hurt, though they smiled.</p> +<p>“I’ve told them to bring lunch in here,” he went on. +“You’ll like it better than the public room––and I haven’t +had mine yet.”</p> +<p>Esther looked up at him.</p> +<p>“And can we––can we go back to London to-day?” +she asked.</p> +<p>“We can go any time you like,” he said.</p> +<p>He felt he had aged years during that morning. No +sooner had Esther got out of his sight at the station than +he was beside himself with remorse for having allowed +her to go; he had spent the whole morning wandering +about looking for her. He had been to this hotel a +dozen times; he had only just come in again when she +followed.</p> +<p>The relief of having her safely in his charge once more +was almost more than he could bear. He walked over +to the door, then stopped and looked back at her.</p> +<p>“You won’t ... you won’t run away from me +again, will you?” he asked. For the first time there was +real emotion in his voice.</p> +<p>Esther had been sitting looking into the fire; she raised +her head now.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></div> +<p>“Don’t go,” she said tremulously. “Please don’t go. +I want to speak to you.”</p> +<p>He flushed crimson, he tried to make some excuse.</p> +<p>“Another time.... You’re tired. I’ll come back +presently. You ought to get some rest if we’re to go +back to-night.”</p> +<p>“No,” she said. “It must be now.”</p> +<p>He shut the door, but he kept as far away from her +as possible, standing over by the window that looked +into the dreary winter garden.</p> +<p>There was something implacable about his tall figure.</p> +<p>“Oh, won’t you come here?” she said.</p> +<p>He obeyed at once. He rested an elbow on the mantelshelf +and kept his eyes fixed on the fire.</p> +<p>There as a little silence, then Esther said, almost in +a whisper:</p> +<p>“I want to beg your pardon. I hope you will––will +try and forgive me.”</p> +<p>Micky did not move.</p> +<p>She struggled on:</p> +<p>“I’ve seen ... Mr. Ashton.” Somehow she could +not bring herself to speak of him by his Christian name.</p> +<p>“And I know––I know––that I’ve been––been a fool.”</p> +<p>Her voice broke. She gripped the arms of the chair +hard to keep herself from breaking down.</p> +<p>Micky forced himself to speak.</p> +<p>“I’m glad you’ve seen him––as you wished it,” he said +jerkily. “But as hoping I will forgive you, there’s nothing +to forgive––it’s all the other way on. I behaved like––like +a cad––it’s for you to forgive me.”</p> +<p>He smiled faintly.</p> +<p>“And now we’ve both said the right thing I’ll go and +see about that train,” he said.</p> +<p>But again she stopped him.</p> +<p>“I don’t want you to go––I want to talk to you. I +want ... oh, I don’t know what I do want!” she +finished, with a sob.</p> +<p>“You’re tired out,” Micky said calmly, though he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +looked anything but calm, “and I’m going to bully you +and insist that you rest. I’ll come back presently....”</p> +<p>He went away quickly, as if he were afraid of being +kept against his will but outside the door he stood still +for a moment with his hand over his eyes before he +pulled himself together and went on.</p> +<p>Esther listened to his departing steps with a sinking at +her heart.</p> +<p>What had she hoped for? She hardly knew, but she +felt as if she had made an overture of friendship that +had been kindly but decidedly refused.</p> +<p>Her cheeks burned. It was not what she had expected.</p> +<p>It seemed an eternity till Micky came back again.</p> +<p>“There’s a train in half an hour,” he told her. “We +can get back to town very comfortably. I’ve wired to +June to meet us. She probably came up from Enmore +yesterday.”</p> +<p>June! Esther had almost forgotten June.</p> +<p>“You ought to be getting ready if we are to catch +that train,” Micky said. “Would you rather stay till +to-morrow? I’m afraid the journey will tire you dreadfully.”</p> +<p>She rose hurriedly.</p> +<p>“No, no––oh no, I’d much rather go!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Micky had reserved a carriage.</p> +<p>“I think I will go in a smoker,” he said. He put some +magazines and a box of chocolates on the seat; he avoided +looking at her. “It’s a corridor train so I’ll come and +see that you are all right occasionally––if I may.”</p> +<p>She did not answer; she felt a little chill of disappointment. +He had not asked a single question about +Raymond, and now he was suggesting that they travel +the long journey separately.</p> +<p>He hesitated.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span></div> +<p>“Will you be all right?” he asked awkwardly.</p> +<p>“Yes, thank you.”</p> +<p>He went away, and presently the train started. Esther +looked out of the window and watched the city as it +was rapidly left behind.</p> +<p>“I never want to see it again,” was the thought in +her heart. “I wish I never had seen it.”</p> +<p>She felt like a naughty child who has run away from +home and is being ignominiously brought back.</p> +<p>Last night seemed like some fevered dream; Raymond +Ashton some man of whom she had read in a book or +seen in a play.</p> +<p>A phantom lover!––he had not even been that, and +once she had wished to die because she had got to be +separated from him.</p> +<p>Her eyes fell on her hand––she still wore his ring.</p> +<p>With sudden passion she dragged it from her finger; +she let the window down with a run and flung the ring +far out into the grey evening. It was the end of a dream; +the final uprooting of an illusion.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXII' id='CHAPTER_XXXII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther slept through the long journey fitfully––she +was mentally and physically exhausted. She +was only thoroughly aroused by people out in the +corridor moving about collecting bags and baggage.</p> +<p>She opened her eyes with a confused feeling––the train +was slackening speed, and Micky stood in the doorway.</p> +<p>“We are nearly in,” he said.</p> +<p>The train was almost at a standstill.</p> +<p>“Calais! Calais!”</p> +<p>Esther rose to her feet––her limbs were trembling, and +her head ached dully.</p> +<p>Micky took her suit-case from the rack.</p> +<p>“You’d better fasten your coat,” he said casually. “It +will be cold on the boat.”</p> +<p>She looked at him half fearfully. Was this the same +man who had followed her from Enmore with such passionate +haste and eagerness? He was perfectly undisturbed +now at all events, he seemed even to avoid looking +at her.</p> +<p>When they got on board he found her a chair on the +leeside of the boat.</p> +<p>“Are you a good sailor?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I don’t know. I’ve never been any distance until +yesterday.”</p> +<p>“You’d better stay here; it’s preferable to that stuffy +cabin.”</p> +<p>But he left her alone almost the whole time, though +she knew that he walked up and down close to where +she sat. She could see the glow of his cigar through +the darkness and hear the slow sound of his steps.</p> +<p>She tried to think things over quietly as she sat there, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +but everything seemed so unreal, and most of all the fact +that Micky had once professed to love her.</p> +<p>In the train he left her to herself till they reached +London. He was sure she “did not want to be bothered,” +he said, and he was going to smoke.</p> +<p>Esther felt a little pang of disappointment. It seemed +a long time till the train steamed fussily into Charing +Cross; and the old weary feeling of loneliness had settled +again upon her heart by the time Micky came to the +door of the carriage.</p> +<p>“June is sure to be somewhere about,” he said laconically. +“Will you stay here while I see if I can find her?”</p> +<p>She took a hurried step forward.</p> +<p>“No, I’ll come with you.”</p> +<p>She felt afraid of June’s kindly quizzical eyes; June +who knew why she had run away to Paris, and what +had been awaiting her there.</p> +<p>She touched Micky’s arm––the eyes she raised to his +face were troubled.</p> +<p>“When shall I see you again?” she asked falteringly.</p> +<p>He half smiled.</p> +<p>“Why do you want to see me again?” he questioned +gravely. “You can have no use for me––after this!”</p> +<p>Esther flushed painfully. Through the crowd she saw +June pushing towards them. This was the last moment +she would have with Micky, she knew, and in a flash +something seemed to tell her what this man had meant +to her during the last two terrible days.</p> +<p>“Oh,” she said tremblingly, “if you only would let +me thank you.”</p> +<p>Micky laughed harshly––</p> +<p>“I hate thanks,” he said.</p> +<p>June was upon them; she seized Esther and kissed +her rapturously.</p> +<p>“You darling! You’ll never know how glad I am to +see you. I’ve been here for hours. Aren’t you dead +tired? Micky, she looks worn out.”</p> +<p>“Does she?” said Micky.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span></div> +<p>He was dead beat himself; he looked round vacantly.</p> +<p>“I wired Driver––I thought he’d be here....”</p> +<p>“Here, sir,” said a voice at his elbow, and there was +Driver, stolid and impenetrable as ever.</p> +<p>Micky was unfeignedly glad to see the little man; +for almost the first time in his life he realised that sometimes +dullness and short-sightedness are a blessing in +disguise. Apparently to Driver there was nothing odd +in this mad rush over to Paris; his expressionless eyes +saw the untidiness of his master’ toilet without changing.</p> +<p>“I’ve brought the car, sir,” he said.</p> +<p>“Good man; get me a taxi, then. You must take the car +down to your rooms,” Micky said to June. “No, don’t +argue; I insist–––”</p> +<p>He put the two girls into the car; he did not look +at Esther, though he squeezed June’s hand when he said +good-bye.</p> +<p>“Let me know if you get back all right; I shall see +you soon.”</p> +<p>He raised his hat, stood aside, and the car started forward.</p> +<p>June looked at Esther with a sort of shyness. It +seemed as if years must have passed since they were +down at Enmore.</p> +<p>The car had rolled out of the station and into the +heart of London before either of them spoke; then Esther +said, stiltedly:</p> +<p>“It was kind of you to come.”</p> +<p>June flushed.</p> +<p>“It wasn’t kind at all,” she said bluntly. “You’re my +friends, or, at least, you were, and, as for Micky––well, +I love him.”</p> +<p>There was a sort of defiance in her voice. She had +seen the tired, strained look in Micky’s face, and she +was nearer being angry with Esther than she had ever +been, but she turned and took her hand.</p> +<p>“Somehow I never thought I should see you again,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +she said, with real emotion. “I haven’t slept a wink +since you went away.”</p> +<p>“You’re much too good to me,” Esther said. “Everyone +is much too good to me.”</p> +<p>“I think Micky is, certainly,” June agreed exasperatedly. +“The man’s a perfect fool to run about like he +does after a woman who doesn’t care two hoots about +him.... There! now I oughtn’t to have said that. +Esther, if you’re crying....”</p> +<p>Esther had covered her face with her hands.</p> +<p>“I’m not crying,” she said in a stifled voice. “But I’m +so ashamed. I don’t know what you must think of me––it’s +so––so humiliating.”</p> +<p>“It’s nothing of the kind,” June declared. “The only +mistake you’ve made is to put your money on the wrong +man, if you’ll excuse the expression. Raymond Ashton +was always an outsider.... There! I won’t say +another word. You’ve come home, and that’s all that +matters.”</p> +<p>It was only when they were safely up in the room with +the mauve cushions that she flung her hat down on the +sofa and drew a long breath.</p> +<p>“Well, I never thought we should be here together +again,” she said tragically. “It seemed like the end of +everything when I found your note on the pincushion. +I don’t know what I should have done if it hadn’t been +for Micky.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know what I should have done either,” Esther +said. She met June’s eyes and flushed crimson. “I’ve +been horrid about him, I know,” she added bravely. “And +now I’m sorry.”</p> +<p>June said “Humph.” She sat for a moment staring +at the floor, then she got up and searched for the inevitable +cigarettes.</p> +<p>“You ought to go to bed,” she said in her most matter-of-fact +tone. “Where did you sleep last night?”</p> +<p>“Nowhere––at least––we were in the train all night. +I did sleep a little, but....”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span></div> +<p>June took her by the shoulders.</p> +<p>“Off you go to bed, and don’t argue. I’ve had a fire +put in your room, and Charlie is there with a new bow +on. I’ll come and tuck you up when you’re ready, +and....”</p> +<p>But Esther refused to move.</p> +<p>“I couldn’t sleep if I went to bed. I want to tell you +about––about what’s happened....” She paused +breathlessly, but June was not going to help her.</p> +<p>“I don’t want to hear anything,” she said flatly. She +looked at Esther and saw the tears in the younger girl’s +eyes. She put an arm round her, drawing her down to +the sofa.</p> +<p>“Tell me all about it, then,” she said. “I’m just––just +longing to know.”</p> +<p>“But there isn’t much to tell, except–––” Esther held +out her left hand. “I’m not engaged any more,” she +said with a faint attempt to laugh. “He––Mr. Ashton––is +married....”</p> +<p>“I know––Micky told me before we went to Enmore. +I hope he’s married a vixen who’ll lead him an awful +dance. It would serve her right to let her know the +sort of man he is––to let her know the sort of letters he’s +been writing to you––to show him up properly.”</p> +<p>Esther hid her face in the mauve cushions.</p> +<p>“Oh, but he has never written to me,” she said chokingly. +“I’ve never had a letter from him since he went +away, and that was on New Year’s Eve. It’s all been +a mistake––a sham ... he never cared for me––he +never really wanted me....”</p> +<p>June threw away the cigarette and tried to raise Esther.</p> +<p>“What are you talking about? He did write to you––you +told me yourself that he wrote beautiful letters––he +sent you that money––Esther! what do you mean?”</p> +<p>Esther looked up; for a moment June caught a glimpse +of misty, shamed eyes.</p> +<p>“They weren’t from him: those letters––the money +never came from him,” she said in a stifled voice.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></div> +<p>“What! My good child, have you gone out of your +mind?”</p> +<p>June was a hundred miles from guessing the truth. +“If he didn’t write them, then who in the world did?” +she demanded crisply. “And if he didn’t send the money, +who in the wide world....”</p> +<p>She caught her breath on a sudden illuminating +thought.</p> +<p>“Esther ... not––not––Micky!”</p> +<p>“Yes.” It was the smallest whisper, and it was followed +by a tragic silence; then June got up and began +walking aimlessly about the room; she felt as if she had +been robbed of all breath.</p> +<p>Twice she turned and looked at Esther’s huddled figure, +then she went back, laid a hand on her arm and said +in an odd, gentle voice that was strangely unlike her +own brisk tones:</p> +<p>“And do you mean to say that you don’t just think +him the finest man in all the world?”</p> +<p>Esther sat up with sudden passion.</p> +<p>“I didn’t think of him at all––it was like having a +knife turned in my heart when I knew,” she said wildly. +“Oh, you can’t understand if you’ve never cared for +anybody what it feels like to know that you’ve been made +a fool of. When he told me I felt that I hated him––there +didn’t seem anything fine or good in what he had +done; I only knew that I’d been played with, made fun +of....” She stopped, sobbing desperately, but for +once June attempted no consolation. She was looking at +Micky’s portrait on the shelf, and there was a wonderful +tenderness in her queer eyes.</p> +<p>“Who told you?” she asked then. “Who told you that +it was Micky?”</p> +<p>“He did––he only told me when he knew why I was +going to Paris––he told me in the train. It’s been from +Mr. Mellowes all along––the money I’ve had every week––my +clothes––this coat ... he’s been paying for +my food, and for me to live here....” She raised +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +her eyes to June’s face. “Did you know?” she asked +shakily. “He said you didn’t, but somehow....”</p> +<p>June rounded on her angrily.</p> +<p>“If Micky said that I didn’t, that ought to be good +enough,” she said curtly. “And of course, I didn’t +know––if I had, I should have told him that he was a +fool to waste his time and money on a girl who thought +nothing of him,” she added flatly. Her voice changed +all at once. “Oh, isn’t he just splendid!” she said emotionally. +“I don’t understand it in the very least, why +he has done it, or how he managed it, or anything, but +I think it’s the finest thing in all the world–––” Esther +turned away.</p> +<p>“I knew him before we met here––he wanted to tell +you, but I asked him not to–––” She stopped and +dragged on again.</p> +<p>“I met him on New Year’s Eve––I was so miserable––there +seemed nothing to live for, and he was kind and +so ... so ... I told him a little of what was +wrong, and I suppose he guessed the rest.”</p> +<p>“And when he went to Paris that time it was all for +your sake, and it was for your sake he kept coming +here––oh!”––June rose to her feet with a gesture of intolerance––“if +you don’t just adore the ground he walks +on,” she said, “you ought to, and that’s all I’ve got to +say.”</p> +<p>Esther made no answer; she was looking into the fire +with eyes that as yet saw only the ruins of a dream that +had been so beautiful, the rapidly receding shadow of +the man whom she had once made a giant figure in her +life.</p> +<p>“I never want to care for any one again,” she said +presently in a hard voice. “You told me once that people +were happier if they didn’t love, and I think you were +right.”</p> +<p>“I was an idiot to ever say such a thing,” June cried +in a rage. “And you’re a bigger idiot if you pretend +to think I was right. There’s nothing better in the whole +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +world than being loved–––” Her face flushed like a +rose. “If Micky had cared for me even a quarter as +well as he does for you I would have married him, and +that’s the truth,” she declared. “It was only because I +knew he hadn’t anything except friendship to offer me +that I knew it wasn’t fair....” She tried to cover +the seriousness of her words with a laugh. She lit +another cigarette. “And now, having got rid of my +heroics, let’s talk sense,” she added more calmly. “But +you ought to go to bed. You look worn out. You’ll +be a wreck in the morning.”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to go to bed. I have such a lot to tell +you. I shall have to leave here, of course; I haven’t +got any money. I must try and find a post. I thought of +asking Eldred’s to take me back; there might be a vacancy +now....” But her voice sounded weary and hopeless.</p> +<p>June swooped down on her.</p> +<p>“You poor tired baby, come along to bed and don’t +worry any more. You’ve got me whatever happens, and +if the worst comes to the worst there’s always June +Mason’s wonderful skin food for both of us to live on.”</p> +<p>They went upstairs together.</p> +<p>“There’s nothing like sunshine to put you on good +terms with yourself,” she said philosophically. “Whenever +I’m in the dumps or feel that I’m looking particularly +plain, I put on my best hat and go out in the sunshine, +and I assure you I’m a good-looking woman when I +come home again.”</p> +<p>“You’re always better than good-looking,” Esther told +her.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIII' id='CHAPTER_XXXIII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> +</div> +<p>June tucked Esther up in bed and replenished the +fire. She turned out the gas, leaving the room fire-lit.</p> +<p>“June,” Esther said timidly. “What did your aunt +think? What did she say––when––when–––”</p> +<p>“She said we must go back and finish our visit another +time––she took a great fancy to you.”</p> +<p>“You’re saying that to please me.”</p> +<p>“I’m not! honest Injun!” June heard the tears in +Esther’s voice; she bent and kissed her gently.</p> +<p>“Now, not another word! I refuse to answer another +question! Pleasant dreams––or better still, no +dreams at all.” She went away, and shut her door behind +her.</p> +<p>Esther lay awake for a long time watching the firelight +on the walls and ceiling, and thinking of what had +happened.</p> +<p>It seemed impossible that she had even really seen +and spoken to Raymond Ashton; impossible that instead +of loving him desperately, she could only shudder at the +memory of him.</p> +<p>The tears forced their way to her eyes, and scorched +her cheeks. But for Micky, where might she not have +been now?––and he had refused to even let her thank +him. Her heart was filled with a new humility. At +best her words would be so poor––like beggars in the +palace of his generosity.</p> +<p>But she would see him again soon––she comforted herself +with the assurance. In spite of his changed manner +and apparent indifference, she was sure she would see +him again. Micky––as June had said of him––never +failed!</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span></div> +<p>It was her last thought as she fell asleep, that she +would surely see him the next day.</p> +<p>But Micky did not come!</p> +<p>Esther rested till lunch time, after which June insisted +on a walk.</p> +<p>“The sun’s shining, and it’s wicked to stay indoors,” +she declared; she marched Esther about for half an +hour.</p> +<p>Esther had been so sure that Micky would come. She +glanced up at the clock, and then at Micky’s photograph––but +to-day he seemed to be looking past her into +the room to where June was bustling about, and she gave +a little sigh.</p> +<p>The evening dragged away.</p> +<p>“What are you thinking about?” June asked once +abruptly. “You look so sad, don’t look sad, my dear! +there’s lots of happy days to come yet––happier days +than you’ve ever had.”</p> +<p>Esther was only half listening. It was too late for +Micky to come now was the thought in her mind. Supposing +he never came again?</p> +<p>She cried herself to sleep that night. When she woke +it was late in the morning, and June had had her breakfast +and gone out.</p> +<p>She came in while Esther was dressing. She looked +very pleased and alert.</p> +<p>“Business, my child!” she said enthusiastically. “Such +a duck of an American! and Micky’s introduction! Mr. +George P. Rochester!––isn’t it a lovely name? He’s +going to establish me firmly in little old New York, as +he calls it, and make my fortune. I’m going out to lunch +with him at one o’clock, and you’re coming too!––Oh, +yes you <i>are</i>!” as Esther shook her head. “I’ve told him +all about you already.” Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“You must have got on very fast,” she said. “And +anyway I’m not going to play odd-man-out.”</p> +<p>June made a little grimace.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span></div> +<p>“I telephoned Micky and asked him to come and make +a fourth,” she admitted.</p> +<p>Esther flushed. She looked up eagerly:</p> +<p>“And––and is he coming?”</p> +<p>June shook her head.</p> +<p>“No, he isn’t,” she said with overdone indifference. +“He said he’d got an engagement already, but between +you and me and the doorpost,” she added darkly, “I +don’t believe it! I think he just didn’t <i>want</i> to come.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Esther faintly. “I expect he has a good +many engagements,” she added after a moment.</p> +<p>June said “Humph!” She recalled the curt manner of +Micky’s refusal, and wondered if there had been a more +serious rupture between himself and Esther than she was +ever likely to hear about.</p> +<p>“So we shall have to make up our minds to enjoy ourselves +without his distinguished company,” she said airly. +“I dare say we shall be able to manage quite nicely. +Esther, aren’t you going to wear your fur coat?”</p> +<p>“My fur coat!” said Esther rather unsteadily. “It’s +not mine.”</p> +<p>She was taking from the wardrobe the shabby jacket +she had worn the first night she met Micky; it looked +more shabby and unsmart than ever, but she was going +to wear it whatever happened.</p> +<p>She was smarting with humiliation. She had offered +Micky her little olive branch when they parted two days +ago at Charing Cross, and this is how he had accepted +it!</p> +<p>“If he’s trying to pay me out, I suppose it’s only what +I deserve,” she thought miserably, and yet it did not seem +like Micky to deliberately try or wish to hurt or humiliate +any one.</p> +<p>She did her best to push the shadow aside. She tried +to laugh and talk with June as they went off to meet +Mr. George P. Rochester.</p> +<p>He was a big, bluff man, with a hand-clasp like the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +grip of a bear, and a twang that could be cut with a +knife.</p> +<p>They lunched at a restaurant which she had never +even heard of, though June seemed quite at home. There +were several people at other tables, whom June knew, +and Esther felt very out of it all, and unhappy.</p> +<p>It was a good thing she had refused to marry Micky, +she thought with a sort of anger. She knew none of his +friends and nothing of the life to which he had always +been accustomed. She did not realise that it was the +knowledge of her shabby coat that was affecting her +spirits more keenly than anything.</p> +<p>June’s clothes were not new, but they had an unmistakable +“cut” about them, and Rochester was exceedingly +well dressed.</p> +<p>He talked to June a great deal. Once or twice he +tried to draw Esther into the conversation, but, seeing +that she wished to be let alone, he soon gave up the attempt.</p> +<p>He was certainly a most friendly person––one would +have thought that he and June had known one another +for years. Before lunch was ended he had invited himself +to tea for the following afternoon.</p> +<p>“That’s Yankee push if you like!” June said when +he had gone. “Give me a Yankee every time to make +things go!” She looked at Esther excitedly. “Do you +know,” she said, “I’ve a great mind to try and persuade +that man to come into partnership with me.”</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“I should say he’d suggest it himself if you give him +another day or two,” she said drily. She wandered listlessly +round the room.</p> +<p>“I shall have to leave here at the end of the week,” +she said suddenly. “It’s impossible to go on living here, +and letting you pay my rent and my food bill. I owe +you more than I can ever repay already.”</p> +<p>“If you talk like that I’ll––I’ll kill you!” said June in +a rage. “You don’t understand what friendship means. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +Micky had tried to teach you, and so have I, and all you +do is to throw it back in our faces.... O Esther, +don’t!...”</p> +<p>Esther had turned away and covered her face with +her hands.</p> +<p>“I know you think I’m ungrateful and horrid,” she +said brokenly. “But how would you like to be in my +position? I haven’t a shilling of my own in the world––the +things I’ve been wearing since I came here are paid +for by ... by ... oh, you know! I hate to +look at that fur coat and my new frock. You talk to me +about being proud and obstinate; well, I can’t help it, +you must go on thinking it, that’s all; I’d rather die +than take anything more from any one. I kept myself +before, and I will again....”</p> +<p>“I didn’t mean to hurt you––I’m a perfect beast,” June +declared in remorse. “But it does seem such a shame.”</p> +<p>Esther raised a flushed face.</p> +<p>“We can’t all have money and be independent,” she +said hardily. “But I think you might try and understand +how I feel about it.”</p> +<p>“I only know that I’m dying to help you, and you +won’t let me,” June said grumpily. “Lord! where is my +cigarette case? I shall swear or do something worse if +I can’t smoke.”</p> +<p>She went out of the room, and Esther heard her go +clattering up the stairs. There were tears in her eyes +now, but she brushed them angrily away; after all, what +was there to cry for! It was only that she had got +to go back to where she had left off that New Year’s +Eve when she first met Micky; everything was just as +it had been then, save that she was the poorer now by +the loss of a dream.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXIV' id='CHAPTER_XXXIV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> +</div> +<p>June’s friendship with Mr. George P. Rochester +grew apace.</p> +<p>“Micky’s introductions are <i>always</i> a success,” she +told Esther. “And Micky likes him too––awfully! Mr. +Rochester is round at Micky’s rooms nearly every night. +They’re <i>ever</i> such pals!”</p> +<p>“Are they?” said Esther. The mention of Micky’s name +always seemed to make her heart quiver. She wondered +if June knew why he never came to the house now, and +what she thought about it all.</p> +<p>In her own mind she was sure that Micky had cast +her off, and the knowledge left her with a sense of +desolation.</p> +<p>She never spoke of him unless June did so first, and +she tried never to think of him. But Micky was a personality +not to be lightly dismissed from memory, and +he haunted her thoughts waking and sleeping.</p> +<p>“If I could only get some work,” she told herself, +“it would be better. It’s so dreadful having nothing to +do.”</p> +<p>She had applied to Eldred’s unsuccessfully––she had +climbed the narrow stairs of the agency a dozen times +only to be met with rebuff.</p> +<p>“You refused an excellent post I offered to you,” she +was told icily. “I am not likely to be able to find you +such another.”</p> +<p>June coaxed her into helping with the “swindle.”</p> +<p>“If you don’t I’ll have to pay some one else to do it,” +she declared. “And oh, Esther, <i>don’t</i> be so proud!”</p> +<p>So Esther gave in. She filled the little mauve pots +with the profound skin food and fastened on lids and +labels till her head swam.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span></div> +<p>Sometimes Mr. George P. Rochester came to help––at +least he called it “help”––but he did very little actual +work, as he was always too busy looking at June and +talking to her.</p> +<p>“Has he suggested the partnership yet?” Esther asked +one night.</p> +<p>June flushed rosily.</p> +<p>“Don’t be absurd,” she answered, and something in +her voice woke a little note of fear in Esther’s heart.</p> +<p>Was she to lose June too? Was there to be nothing +left to her in all the world? Her hands shook as she +went on mechanically filling the row of little mauve +pots.</p> +<p>“Esther,” said June suddenly, “how long is it since +you saw Micky?”</p> +<p>There was a little pause, then Esther said constrainedly. +“I’ve never seen him since––since we came back +from Paris.”</p> +<p>She waited a moment.</p> +<p>“Why?” she asked with an effort.</p> +<p>June kept her eyes bent on her work.</p> +<p>“Because I haven’t seen him myself for nearly a +week,” she said slowly. “And I hear––I hear that he’s +running round with that Deland girl again.”</p> +<p>She did not dare to look up as she spoke, and she went +on quickly, “Of course it may only be gossip––but +George––Mr. Rochester–––” she hurriedly corrected +herself, “tells me that Micky took him to their house +to dinner last night.”</p> +<p>Silence. June filled pots at random, wildly, then Esther +spoke.</p> +<p>“I’ve done eight dozen,” she said. “Do you think that +is enough to go on with?”</p> +<p>June raised her eyes guiltily, then suddenly she pushed +the laden tray from her and ran round to Esther.</p> +<p>“Oh,” she said impulsively, “if only––only you could +have made yourself care for him.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span></div> +<p>She put her arms round the younger girl’s unresponsive +figure.</p> +<p>“I want you to be happy too, so badly,” she went on +earnestly. “I didn’t mean to tell you yet, but I must +somehow. George––Mr. Rochester–––” she broke off, +laughing and crying together.</p> +<p>“The man’s a perfect disgrace,” she protested, “I +told him so, too! I’ve only known him three weeks, +and––and–––” she raised tear-drowned eyes to Esther’s +face. “What can you do when a man that size kisses +you?” she demanded.</p> +<p>Esther had to laugh.</p> +<p>“Why, do what you did,” she said. “Kiss him in return.”</p> +<p>June wiped her eyes and laughed, and shed more tears.</p> +<p>“I never meant to marry any one,” she said angrily. +“But the dreadful creature seems to want me so desperately +badly. I’m really utterly miserable, only–––”</p> +<p>“O June!” said Esther.</p> +<p>“So I am! At least!”––June looked up and suddenly +laughed. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m a wicked liar! but +oh, such a gloriously happy, wicked liar!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>“And it’s all entirely due to me,” Micky said when +June rang him up the following morning to tell him the +news.</p> +<p>“I introduced you! What do I get out of it all I +should like to know?”</p> +<p>His voice was playful, but June took him seriously.</p> +<p>“O Micky! if you could only be as happy as I am,” +she said eagerly.</p> +<p>Micky laughed.</p> +<p>“If wishes were horses, my dear–––” he said sententiously. +“But don’t worry about me, I’m all right.”</p> +<p>“Then, will you come to dinner to-night? No, <i>not</i> at +the boarding house! We’ll go to the Savoy––just to +celebrate! We four!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span></div> +<p>“We <i>four!</i>” said Micky sharply.</p> +<p>“Yes––I shall bring Esther, of course.”</p> +<p>There was the smallest possible pause, then Micky +said:</p> +<p>“I’m sorry, but I’ve another engagement. I promised +the Delands to go with them to the Hoopers’ dance.”</p> +<p>June said “<i>Hang</i> the Delands,” and rang off in a +huff.</p> +<p>Micky hung up the receiver and turned away. He +was sorry to disappoint June, and yet he had no smallest +intention of meeting Esther. If she had wanted him she +would have sent a note or a message––but she did not +want him! More than once she had said that she hated +him––it was time to learn that she meant what she said. +Micky’s pride had got the upper hand at last, and he +would rather have died now than make the smallest overture +to the girl at whose feet he had once been willing +to grovel.</p> +<p>Driver came to the door:</p> +<p>“A parcel, sir. Shall I bring it in?”</p> +<p>Micky answered absently:</p> +<p>“All right.”</p> +<p>Driver went out of the room. After a moment he +came back with a square box which he set down on the +table.</p> +<p>“Shall I open it, sir?” he asked, as Micky did not +speak.</p> +<p>Micky started.</p> +<p>“Yes; oh, yes––open it. What the dickens is it? I +haven’t ordered anything.”</p> +<p>Driver said that he did not know––that it had been left +by a messenger. He untied the knotted string with neat +precision, and rolled it into a ball before he removed the +paper.</p> +<p>Micky walked up to the table and lifted the lid with +faint curiosity.</p> +<p>“A fur coat,” he said blankly. “A fur–––” He stopped. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +For a moment he stood staring down into the box, then +he let the lid fall over it again.</p> +<p>“All right––you can go,” he said.</p> +<p>Driver walked to the door stoically, and Micky went +back to the fire.</p> +<p>So she would not even keep the fur coat! She cared +so little for him that she must needs send back his paltry +gifts. What a fool he was to care––what a fool!</p> +<p>Driver, coming back for a moment, stopped petrified +in the doorway. Micky was standing by the mantelpiece +with his face buried in his arms.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXV' id='CHAPTER_XXXV'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> +</div> +<p>It was late that night when Micky turned up at the +Delands’. He had taken extravagant pains with his +toilet, lingering over it as long as possible. Ever +since the arrival of that parcel from Esther, he had been +trying to make up his mind to take the irrevocable step, +and ask Marie Deland to be his wife. He was miserably +sure that she would accept him, miserably sure that he +was already forgiven for the past.</p> +<p>He kept on persuading himself that it was the one +and only thing left to him to do. He tried to believe +that once the affair was settled, he would find some sort +of happiness. After all, what did it matter whom he +married if it could not be Esther?</p> +<p>He looked pale but determined when he walked into +the Delands’ drawing-room and found Marie there alone. +She turned to greet him with a little eager movement +that was somehow comforting.</p> +<p>Here, at any rate, was some one who really cared for +him and was glad to see him. He took the hand she +held out and, bending, kissed it.</p> +<p>She caught her breath on a little sound that was almost +a sob, but she checked it instantly and tried to laugh.</p> +<p>“This is almost like old times,” she said.</p> +<p>“Quite like old times,” Micky answered recklessly. +“We’ve just turned the pages back again and gone on +where we left off, that’s all.”</p> +<p>He looked at her and tried to forget everything else. +She was pretty and dainty enough to satisfy the most +exciting man, and she loved him! To a man who is +disappointed and unhappy there is great consolation in +the knowledge that to one person at least he counts before +anything else in the world.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div> +<p>She looked up at him, and impulsively he took a step +towards her; another moment and Micky would have +sealed his fate, had not Mrs. Deland pushed open the +door and walked into the room.</p> +<p>It had not been any effort for her to forgive Micky +for his cavalier treatment of her daughter. For the +last week she had been busy telling every one that Marie +and Micky had made up their quarrel––“entirely Marie’s +fault it was, you know,” and so on.</p> +<p>“You are going to give me half your dances at least,” +Micky said, when they reached the Hoopers’. He took +the card from Marie’s hand and filled in his own initials +recklessly against the numbers.</p> +<p>She laughed tremulously; she was too happy to think +of anything but the present; she had got Micky again, +and that was all she cared about.</p> +<p>“Good-evening!” said a voice at her side, and, turning, +she found Raymond Ashton at her elbow.</p> +<p>Marie did not care particularly for Ashton. She +greeted him rather coldly.</p> +<p>“So you’re back in town,” she said. “And your wife?”</p> +<p>“Not here to-night,” he answered. “She has a bad +cold, so I persuaded her to stay at home. May I have +a dance?”</p> +<p>She gave him her card reluctantly. She would have +liked to have refused, but she thought Micky would be +annoyed; she did not know that he and this man were +friends no longer.</p> +<p>She saw him glance at Micky’s many initials on her +card, saw the half ironical smile he gave as he looked +at her.</p> +<p>“Mellowes is back, then?” he said.</p> +<p>“Yes––he came with us to-night.”</p> +<p>“Really! I thought–––” he paused eloquently.</p> +<p>Marie flushed, she knew quite well what he meant; that +he must have known how Micky had once deserted her.</p> +<p>“I understood that Mellowes was in Paris.”</p> +<p>Ashton went on calmly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span></div> +<p>“At least I was told so by an ... acquaintance +of mine––who was staying there with him.”</p> +<p>Marie’s eyes dilated.</p> +<p>“Father and I crossed by the same boat as he did,” +she said with an effort. “He was alone then–––”</p> +<p>Ashton laughed detestably. “Ah, but not afterwards,” +he said––then checked himself. “But I forgot. I must +not tell tales out of school, only as every one seems to +have learned of his <i>penchant</i> for the little lady from +Eldred’s”––he laughed lightly.</p> +<p>Marie stood staring down the long ballroom. The +colour slowly faded from her cheeks, leaving her as +white as her frock. She looked at Ashton, intent on a +crease in his glove, and she broke out stammering:</p> +<p>“How dare you say such a thing! I don’t believe you––in +Paris––Micky–––”</p> +<p>He raised his brows with assumed surprise.</p> +<p>“I’m sorry––perhaps I should not have spoken––but +I thought every one knew–––”</p> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. “Of course it may be a +mistake, but I happen to know the lady in question +slightly––through Mellowes––and it was she who told +me.... I am sorry if my carelessness has pained +you––excuse me, I am engaged for this dance.”</p> +<p>He bowed and left her standing there, white and +dazed.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it! I don’t,” she told herself despairingly, +and yet in her heart something told her that, for +once at least, Ashton had spoken the truth.</p> +<p>“Our dance, I think,” said Micky beside her.</p> +<p>She laid her hand on his arm mechanically; they went +the round of the room once, then Micky, glancing down, +saw how white she was and how her head drooped +towards his shoulder.</p> +<p>He tightened his arm a little––he swept her skilfully +out of the crowd and into a small anteroom; he put +her into a chair and bent over her in concern.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span></div> +<p>“You are not well––what can I do? Can I get you +anything?”</p> +<p>For a moment she did not speak, then all at once she +rose to her feet; she clutched Micky by both arms; he +could feel how her hands shook; there was heartbroken +tragedy in her brown eyes as she looked into his face. +For once she had forgotten her pride and the indifference +into which she had been drilled for twenty years; she +was no longer Marie Deland, a sought-after and courted +beauty; she was just an unhappy, jealous woman.</p> +<p>“It isn’t true, Micky, is it?” she entreated him; her +voice was only a broken whisper. “Tell me––oh, please, +please, tell me. You don’t care for her, do you?––it +isn’t true, is it?”</p> +<p>She forgot that he did not know of what she was +speaking; it seemed as if everybody in the world must +know of this tragedy that had desolated her life.</p> +<p>“I can’t bear it any longer––it’s no use.... I’ve +borne all I can.... O Micky ... Micky.”</p> +<p>He forced her hands from his arms; he put her back +into the chair and sat beside her; he hated to see the +white despair of her face.</p> +<p>“You’re ill––upset.... It’s all right––everything +is all right. You’re not to worry any more.... +Everything is all right.”</p> +<p>At that moment he would have given his soul could +he have truthfully said that he wanted her for his wife. +He cursed himself for a cur and a coward, but somehow +he could not force the words to his lips.</p> +<p>She lay back against the cushions, hiding her face.</p> +<p>There was a tragic moment of silence. Out in the +ballroom a noisy one-step was in boisterous progress; +there was a great deal of laughter and chattering; the +little anteroom seemed as if it must be in another +world.</p> +<p>Micky got up. He walked across the room and shut +the door. There was a hard look about his mouth. For +an instant he stood staring down at the floor irresolutely, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +then he came back to Marie. He bent over her, but he +did not touch her.</p> +<p>He spoke her name gently.</p> +<p>“Marie.”</p> +<p>She did not raise her head.</p> +<p>“I want to speak to you,” he said huskily.</p> +<p>She looked up then. Her face was flashed and quivering, +and the brown eyes that for a moment met his own +were full of an unutterable grief and shame.</p> +<p>“Oh,” she said in a broken whisper. “If you’d just +go away––and leave me to myself.”</p> +<p>Micky did not answer. The impossibility of ever going +back now struck him to the soul. This was the end, +the very end––he had burned his boats and bidden good-bye +to the woman he loved for ever.</p> +<p>Then all his natural chivalry rose in his heart. Hitherto +it had been only of himself that he had thought, +but now ... his eyes softened as they rested on +the girl’s bowed head; he stooped and took her hand, held +it fast in his steady grip.</p> +<p>“Will you marry me?” he said very gently.</p> +<p>And, oh, the long time before she answered! It +seemed to Micky that he lived through years as he stood +there with the rattling tune of the one-step in his ears +and Marie’s tragic figure before his eyes. Was she never +going to speak?</p> +<p>Then she sat up very stiff and straight––there were +tears scorching her flushed cheeks, and her eyes seemed +to burn.</p> +<p>“Will I––will I––marry you?” she echoed, as if not +understanding.</p> +<p>Her voice rose a little.</p> +<p>“Then it isn’t true ... it can’t be true––what he +said?”</p> +<p>“What did he say? Who are you talking about? What +do you mean?”</p> +<p>She began to sob; quiet, tearless sobs that seemed to +bring no relief with them.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span></div> +<p>“Raymond Ashton––he told me––here! just now––that +you....” She stopped, catching her breath at the +change in Micky’s face; it no longer looked tender––his +eyes were fierce.</p> +<p>“Ashton! What has he said?” His voice was roughly +insistent.</p> +<p>“He told me that you––you were in Paris––a week or +two ago––with a girl from Eldred’s.”</p> +<p>“It’s a lie!” The words escaped Micky before he could +check them; his first thought was to defend Esther. “It’s +an infernal lie!” he said again violently.</p> +<p>It turned him cold to think of all that the brute must +have implied.</p> +<p>The tears were frozen on Marie’s cheeks––her hands +were clasped together in her lap.</p> +<p>When at last she found her voice it was strained and +cracked.</p> +<p>“... that she told him you were there with her....” +Her brown eyes searched his face as if they +were trying to read his very soul. “If it’s a lie,” she +said shrilly, “it’s she who is lying––she told Raymond +Ashton that she was there with you.”</p> +<p>“She told him....”</p> +<p>For a moment Micky stood like a man turned to stone. +Was this the truth?––that Esther had told Ashton....</p> +<p>He looked again at Marie.</p> +<p>“When did Ashton tell you this?”</p> +<p>“To-night––not a moment ago––he is here.”</p> +<p>“Here!” Then to how many more people had he told +the same distorted story?</p> +<p>The blood beat into Micky’s face; it seemed to hammer +maddeningly against his temples. Nothing counted +but the fact that Esther’s name was being bandied about +on the lips of the creature. To stop him––to stop his +lying tongue was the one thought in Micky’s mind; he +saw the whole world red as he tore open the door of the +silent room and strode out into the corridor.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span></div> +<p>The noisy ragtime had ceased, but a storm of deafening +applause and cries of “Encore!” filled the ballroom.</p> +<p>An elderly man cannoned into Micky, and stopped +short with a laughing apology.</p> +<p>“Hullo, Mellowes––not dancing––what the deuce is +the matter?” he asked with sudden change of voice.</p> +<p>Micky passed a shaking hand across his mouth––</p> +<p>“Nothing ... where’s Ashton––have you seen +Ashton?”</p> +<p>“I’ve just left him; he isn’t dancing either. Can’t +think what’s happened to you youngsters to-day. When +I was your age....” He broke off, realising that +Micky was not listening. “Ashton’s in the smoking-room,” +he said uneasily.</p> +<p>Micky went on; his hands were clenched, his teeth set.</p> +<p>The smoking-room door was half ajar; he could see +that there were several men there. There was a clink of +glasses and the sound of voices talking in a rather subdued +way.</p> +<p>Micky paused. He knew that if Ashton were there it +would mean a scene, and a scene in any one else’s house.... +The thought snapped at the sound of his own +name.</p> +<p>“Mellowes! Well, you do surprise me.” There was +a chuckle. “Always thought he was one of the good +boys.... It just shows that you never know a man +till you find him out. Rather an error of judgment to +choose Paris, eh? Who did you say she was?”</p> +<p>“A girl from Eldred’s––pretty little thing. I knew her +before he did. As a matter of fact, it was only when I +cooled off....”</p> +<p>That was Ashton’s voice; Micky could not see him, +but he could picture vividly the eloquent shrug, the meaning +smile with which he finished his incomplete sentence.</p> +<p>The hot blood died down, leaving him cool and alert. +He pushed the door wide and walked into the room.</p> +<p>The group of men by the fireplace scattered; some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +one coughed deprecatingly; some one else seized upon +a siphon and began filling an already full glass recklessly.</p> +<p>Nobody spoke.</p> +<p>Micky kicked the door to behind him, shutting it with +a slam.</p> +<p>His eyes went straight to Ashton––a pale Ashton, trying +to smile unconcernedly and brazen the situation out.</p> +<p>“I’ll give you two minutes in which to apologise,” +Micky said in a voice of steel. “Two minutes in which +to retract the damned lies you’ve just been saying in +this room––or––or I’ll thrash you within an inch of your +life.”</p> +<p>In the silence following one could have heard a pin +drop. Every one looked at Ashton. Micky took out his +watch.</p> +<p>It seemed an eternity before Ashton spoke.</p> +<p>“If you’ve been listening–––” he began blustering.</p> +<p>He moistened his dry lips.</p> +<p>“What I said is the truth,” he broke out spluttering. +“You were in Paris with....” But the name was +never spoken––Micky’s clenched fist shot out and struck +him right in the mouth.</p> +<p>In a moment the room was in an uproar; half a dozen +men rushed at Micky and pinned his arms.</p> +<p>“Mellowes––for God’s sake––if Hooper comes in....”</p> +<p>Ashton had staggered back against the wall; his mouth +was cut and bleeding; he was swearing horribly.</p> +<p>Micky was crimson in the face; the veins stood out +like cords on his forehead; he was straining every nerve +to free himself from his captors.</p> +<p>“Apologise!” he gasped. “Apologise, you dammed +cad!”</p> +<p>Ashton laughed savagely.</p> +<p>“Apologise! What for? It’s the truth, and you know +it. Apologise! I’ll repeat it.... I say that you +were in Paris three weeks ago with Esther Shepstone, +one of the girls from Eldred’s....”</p> +<p>Micky suddenly stopped struggling, but his breath +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +came in deep gasps as he spoke. He looked round at +the faces of the other men.</p> +<p>“I know most of you––here,” he said in a laboured +voice. “And most of you know me––and you know that +I’m not a damned liar like Ashton; and I know that +you’ll believe me––believe me––when I tell you that the +lady who was with me in––in Paris––three weeks ago––is +my wife ... we’ve been married some time––and +it is solely by her wish that it has been kept a +secret.”</p> +<p>If Micky had dropped a bomb in the room it could +hardly have created more consternation. The incredulity +on the faces of the men around him would have been +amusing to an onlooker, but to Micky the whole thing +was tragedy.</p> +<p>He had brought Esther to this with his blundering +quixotism; he was nearly beside himself with remorse.</p> +<p>If he had been free he would have half killed Ashton. +His hands ached to get at him; to take him by his +lying throat and choke the breath from his body.</p> +<p>He looked at the men around him with passionate eyes.</p> +<p>“I’ve never given any of you cause to doubt my word +yet,” he said hoarsely. “And I’m sure you’ll agree with +me that this man should be made to retract what he +said and apologise.”</p> +<p>“Certainly––he ought to apologise. It’s disgraceful––infernally +disgraceful,” said a man who had been listening +to Ashton’s story eagerly enough a moment ago.</p> +<p>“What do you say, gentlemen?”</p> +<p>There was a chorus of assent. The men who had been +holding Micky’s arms let him go.</p> +<p>Ashton backed a step away.</p> +<p>His face was livid, his eyes furious, but he knew that +there was no other course open to him; nobody in the +room had any sympathy with him now.</p> +<p>“I apologise,” he said savagely. “I didn’t know that––the––lady––Mellowes +had married––the lady.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span></div> +<p>His tone added that even now he did not believe it; +he edged away to the door and disappeared.</p> +<p>Micky dropped into a chair; he looked thoroughly +done up. Some one pushed a glass of whisky across to +him. There was an uncomfortable silence. Perhaps +they were all feeling guilty; perhaps they all remembered +with what relish they had listened to this spicy bit of +scandal.</p> +<p>“Never could stand Ashton,” some one said presently, +in gruff abasement. “Worm––the man is!––perfect outsider!”</p> +<p>There were several grunts of assent; the sympathy +was decidedly with Micky.</p> +<p>After a moment he rose to his feet.</p> +<p>“I suppose an apology is due from me too,” he said; +he spoke with difficulty. “But I think any of you––in +the same circumstances–––”</p> +<p>He waited a moment.</p> +<p>“Quite right––certainly.... Should have done the +same myself.”</p> +<p>Micky smiled faintly.</p> +<p>“And I am sure you won’t let this go any further––for––for +my wife’s sake,” he added.</p> +<p>They pressed round him, shaking him by the hand +and reassuring him. Micky took it for what it was +worth. He knew that those of them who were married +men would go straight home and tell their wives of the +scene at Hoopers’, and he knew how speedily the story +would spread.</p> +<p>He got away as soon as he could and left the house.</p> +<p>He never gave Marie another thought, till he found +himself out in the street and walking away through the +fresh spring night.</p> +<p>He took off his hat and let the air blow on his hot +forehead; his hand still trembled with excitement.</p> +<p>He tried to think, but his thoughts would not come +clearly. When he got back to his rooms he asked Driver +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +for a stiff brandy. The man looked at his master diffidently, +and asked if anything were the matter.</p> +<p>Micky laughed.</p> +<p>“Why? Do I look as if there is?” He glanced at +himself in the mirror. His face was very white.</p> +<p>“No, there’s nothing the matter. I’m tired, that’s all.”</p> +<p>Driver turned to the door, but Micky called him back.</p> +<p>“You’ve been with me a good many years, Driver,” +he said.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“And you’ve been a faithful servant.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir.”</p> +<p>The man’s stolidness did not change a fraction.</p> +<p>Micky took a gulp at the brandy.</p> +<p>“If you were to hear that I’m married, you wouldn’t +be surprised, would you?” he asked with a rush.</p> +<p>Driver stood immovable.</p> +<p>“Not in the least, sir.”</p> +<p>“You would even say that you knew that I’ve been +married some weeks, wouldn’t you?”</p> +<p>“I should, sir.”</p> +<p>“Good––you may go.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir, and good-night.”</p> +<p>“Good-night,” said Micky.</p> +<p>And now, what was to be done now?</p> +<p>When he left this room three hours ago it had been +with the determination to put the past behind him for +ever, and what had he done? Only walked more deeply +into his quixotism and seriously compromised the woman +he loved.</p> +<p>He had said that she was his wife. It gave him a +little thrill to remember that a dozen of his acquaintances +had heard him say it, and were probably even now +spreading the story of his marriage far and wide.</p> +<p>He paced up and down the room. He had failed all +round; even love and desperate desire had not been able +to help him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span></div> +<p>He thought suddenly of June; June who, with all her +bluntness, had a great heart and a deep understanding.</p> +<p>She would not want explanations; she would know +why he had done it, and sympathise.</p> +<p>But June was obviously not the one concerned. It +was not to June that he must confess.</p> +<p>The clock in his room struck twelve; too late to do +anything to-night. The memory of Marie returned––Marie +as she had looked when he found her in the drawing-room +that night; as she had looked when he had left +her in the little anteroom at the Hoopers’ and gone out +with murder in his heart to find Ashton.</p> +<p>He stopped dead in his pacing.</p> +<p>“Oh, you cad––you cad!” he said with a groan.</p> +<p>Life was an intolerable, purposeless thing. He sat +down at his desk and leaned his head in his hands. His +whole life seemed to spell failure. With sudden impulse +he seized a pen and began to write.</p> +<p>For the first few moments he hardly knew what he +wrote. It was only when he reached the end of the +first page that he seemed to realise with a start what he +had done. He looked back at the written lines with +something of a shock. There was no beginning to the +letter, no date or address; it simply started off as if the +pen had been guided by some influence outside himself, +some desperate need.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“I don’t know what you will think when you get this letter. I +am writing it because to-night I think I am half mad. I love you +so much; there seems nothing in the whole world that counts +any more now that I am beginning to understand that I can +never have you. Esther, I ask you on my knees to listen to +what I have to say. I have tried to keep away from you, to +forget you; I’ve tried to put you out of my heart and persuade +myself that I do not care––but it’s no use. I love you; I know +you care something for me, but I shall love you always. To-night +I have done an unpardonable thing for your sake. I explain +things so badly. I can only hope that you will understand and +try to make some excuse for me. Some one knows we were +together in Paris––I need not tell you who. To-night, at a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +house where I was, he had told several people that you and I +had been to Paris together....”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Micky had gone on writing rapidly––he seemed to +have lost himself in a sea of eloquence; his heart was +pleading with the woman he loved through the poor +medium of a sheet of unaddressed paper.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“It nearly drove me mad to hear you spoken of by him. There +was a scene, and I knocked him down ... you will hate me +for this, but I would have killed him if they had let me. I told +them afterwards that you were my wife––try and understand +how I have suffered all these weeks––I told them that we had +been married some time, and that it had been kept secret by +your own wish. It’s only now, when I am more alone and can +think clearly, that I see what I have done. You don’t care for +me, and I have compromised you even more than that man did +by his lying insinuations. Tell me what I am to do––anything, +anything in the world. My whole life is yours to do with as +you will. Be my wife, dear, be my wife....”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>For a moment the pen faltered, but Micky went on +again with an effort.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“I will stay in London twenty-four hours for your answer, +and then, if I don’t hear....”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The pen faltered again, and this time finally stopped.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVI' id='CHAPTER_XXXVI'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> +</div> +<p>“The question is,” said June critically, looking out +of the window to the street where a fine drizzle of +rain was falling, “does one, or does one not, wear +one’s best hat to go out and meet the one and only man +one has ever loved?” She turned round and looked at +Esther with a little nod. “That’s grammar, though you +may not think it, my dear,” she said.</p> +<p>Esther laughed.</p> +<p>“I should say one does wear one’s best hat,” she said +decidedly. “Especially seeing what a very charming hat +it is.”</p> +<p>She leaned her elbows on the table and looked at June +admiringly. “How long is it since you saw the great +and only?” she asked.</p> +<p>June did some rapid counting on her white fingers.</p> +<p>“Nineteen hours exactly,” she said. “But it seems +like ninety! I nearly died with joy when his note came +at breakfast time–––” She looked at Esther wistfully. +“You don’t know how lovely it is to have some one of +your very own,” she said with unwonted sentimentality.</p> +<p>Esther averted her eyes.</p> +<p>“I envy you,” she said quietly. “But you’ll be late +if you stand rhapsodising here––be off!”</p> +<p>June bent and kissed her.</p> +<p>“I shan’t be long––he’s only asked me for lunch....”</p> +<p>Esther smiled.</p> +<p>“I have known lunches that lasted till tea-time,” she +said. “When there has been a great deal to talk about.”</p> +<p>June went downstairs singing. During the last few +days she had, as she would have expressed it, begun to +discover herself all over again. Certainly the world had +utterly changed, and was more like a fairy city than a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +place where it rained a great deal and where buses and +taxicabs splashed pedestrians with mud.</p> +<p>Lydia met her at the foot of the stairs; she smiled at +sight of the new hat.</p> +<p>“I was just coming up, Miss June,” she said. “There’s +a letter for Miss Shepstone.”</p> +<p>June held out her hand.</p> +<p>“I’ll take it, and save you the trouble–––” She became +conscious all at once of the girl’s admiring eyes, +and blushed.</p> +<p>“Do you like my hat, Lydia?” She turned round for +inspection.</p> +<p>Lydia admired enthusiastically, as she admired everything +of June’s, and forgetful of everything but the +moment, June thrust the letter for Esther into her coat +pocket and went out blissfully into the rain to meet +George Rochester.</p> +<p>George was ardent; he went into rhapsodies over the +hat; he forgot to eat his most excellent lunch, and hardly +took his eyes off June.</p> +<p>“It’s all so much waste of time this being engaged,” +he said with pretended annoyance. “Why don’t we do +the trick and get married? What are we waiting for? +I’ll take you to the States for a wedding trip.”</p> +<p>June laughed, and protested blushingly that it was +much too soon.</p> +<p>“I haven’t thought about it,” she declared, not quite +truthfully. “There’s tons of things to see to first. What +about my business and Esther?”</p> +<p>“Leave the one to look after the other,” he said +promptly.</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“I couldn’t––I should hate to leave Esther alone; if +only she could be married too?”</p> +<p>“Well––find her a husband. What about Mellowes?” +he suggested jokingly.</p> +<p>June’s face sobered.</p> +<p>“Oh––Micky!” she said. She was not sure if she was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +justified in telling Rochester that Micky had once cared +for Esther. “I thought he was practically engaged to +Marie Deland,” she said doubtfully.</p> +<p>Rochester gave an exclamation.</p> +<p>“That reminds me,” he said. “There seems to have +been a bit of a row at the Hoopers’ dance last night.... +I wasn’t there––but I heard some fellows at the +club talking it over just now. Do you know a man +named Ashton?”</p> +<p>June sniffed inelegantly.</p> +<p>“Do I not!”</p> +<p>“Well, if you don’t like him, you’ll be pleased to hear +that Micky knocked him into the middle of next week,” +Rochester said calmly.</p> +<p>June’s eyes gleamed.</p> +<p>“Never! Well, I’m delighted to hear it! What was +it about?”</p> +<p>Rochester shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Oh, they were gossiping about some woman, as far +as I could make out––a woman Micky had been rather +friendly with, from what I gathered––they didn’t mention +her name, but–––” he hesitated. “They spoke of +her as a girl from ... I’ve forgotten the name, +but I think it was a petticoat shop–––”</p> +<p>“Eldred’s?” said June sharply.</p> +<p>“Yes, that was it! What do you know about it?”</p> +<p>“Nothing––go on! What were they saying?”</p> +<p>“That she’d been to Paris with Mellowes, and Mellowes +overheard it, and there was a bit of a fight, and +Mellowes said that the girl was his wife....”</p> +<p>June gasped.</p> +<p>“<i>What</i>!”</p> +<p>Rochester looked rather uncomfortable.</p> +<p>“It’s only club talk,” he said deprecatingly. “Dare say +it’s all lies.”</p> +<p>June pushed back her chair; her brain was in a whirl; +she stared at Rochester with dazed eyes.</p> +<p>“Of course you’re mad, quite mad,” she said calmly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span></div> +<p>“Or I am! which is it?... My dear man, the +girl Micky went to Paris with was Esther! <i>my</i> Esther +Shepstone! and here you are trying to tell me that she +and Micky are <i>married</i>!” She burst into hysterical +laughter.</p> +<p>“I’m not trying to tell you,” he protested injuredly. +“It’s only what I heard; and any way, if Mellowes went +to Paris with Miss Shepstone–––”</p> +<p>He broke off before the anger in June’s eyes.</p> +<p>“If you speak about Esther in that tone of voice again, +I shall hate you for ever,” she said furiously. “If you +must know the truth, I’ll tell it to you, and another time +just don’t judge people till you’ve heard both sides of +the question,” and she promptly proceeded to tell him +the whole story of her meeting with Esther, and all that +had happened since.</p> +<p>Rochester listened quietly, but when she had finished, +he said––</p> +<p>“Micky ought to have finished that skunk last night. +If he cares for Miss Shepstone....”</p> +<p>“Oh but I don’t think he does now,” June struck in +sadly. “He hasn’t been near her since they came back +from Paris, and every one says that Marie Deland–––” +she broke off.</p> +<p>“And when Miss Shepstone gets to hear what happened +last night?” Rochester asked drily.</p> +<p>“Oh, but she won’t––she doesn’t know anybody who +would tell her except you or me,” June said positively. +“And of course she must <i>never</i> know. She never liked +Micky, though <i>why</i>!...” She shrugged her shoulders. +“Have you seen him to-day?” she asked.</p> +<p>“No––I’m going to this evening.”</p> +<p>“But you won’t let him know what I’ve told you? +promise me!”</p> +<p>“Is it likely that I should? Men don’t gossip.”</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t they?” June answered tartly. “I wouldn’t +trust one of them, not even you,” she added with a +melting smile.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></div> +<p>In spite of her promise to Esther, it was past tea-time +when she got back home; she threw her hat and +coat down anywhere and poked up the fire.</p> +<p>“Haven’t you had tea? What have you been doing all +day?” she demanded crisply. “You <i>haven’t</i> had tea!––Good +gracious, I’ll make some at once; I had some with +George, but I’m quite ready for some more. My word! +what a difference a man can make in one’s life,” she +said, suddenly grave. “And to think that I ever talked +piffle about not wanting to get married.”</p> +<p>She bustled round the room singing blithely; she was +brimful of happiness. “You needn’t be surprised to hear +that I’m going to be married quite soon,” she said with +elaborate carelessness. “Lord! won’t people have forty +fits? Except for Micky, my crowd don’t know I’m engaged +yet. I’m going to take George home to see them +on Sunday. I’ve discovered that he’s fourth cousin, +about ninety times removed, to a baronet, so, perhaps, +that will put them all in a good temper with him. My +people do love titles! Give them a lord, or something, +and it doesn’t matter what else he is, or isn’t.... +You’re not listening, Esther.”</p> +<p>“I am. I heard every word you said.”</p> +<p>Esther was sitting by the fire with Charlie curled up +in her lap; her face looked very sad and thoughtful. +So she was to lose June quite soon!––her lips trembled; +what was there left for her in all the world? It almost +seemed as if time had stood still for a moment, and then +suddenly rushed her back again with breathless speed, +to leave her bereft of hope and happiness, as she had +been before she met Micky.</p> +<p>Charlie had been her only friend then. Was he all +that was to remain to her now?</p> +<p>June watched her across the room.</p> +<p>“What are you thinking about?” she asked suddenly; +but Esther only shook her head.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span></div> +<p>For two days Micky Mellowes never left his rooms, +and hardly ate a thing, and for once in his life Driver +permitted a spark of anxiety to creep into his dull eyes. +He was sure that his master was ill; he tried tempting +dishes and alluring cocktails, but Micky refused them all.</p> +<p>“My good man, I’m not an invalid,” he protested irritably.</p> +<p>He hated it, because he knew his agitation was apparent; +he tried to settle to read, but whenever a bell +rang through the house he started up with racing pulses.</p> +<p>She must have got his letter, he knew. If there was +any hope for him at all she would write at once or send +for him. His nerves began to wear to rags.</p> +<p>Sometimes his hopes soared to the skies, to drop to +zero again. Once in a fit of despondency he told Driver +to pack his bag, as they would be leaving early in the +morning.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir––where shall we be going, sir?” Driver asked +stoically.</p> +<p>Micky swore.</p> +<p>“You do ask such damned silly questions,” he complained +irritably.</p> +<p>An hour later, when he found Driver packing, he called +him a fool, and told him to unpack at once.</p> +<p>And so the days dragged away.</p> +<p>“Any more posts to-night?” Micky asked jerkily, on +the second day.</p> +<p>Driver eyed the clock.</p> +<p>“There should be one at nine, sir.”</p> +<p>But nine came, and half-past, and no post.</p> +<p>“Is it too late for the post now, Driver?” Micky asked +feverishly, when it was nearly ten.</p> +<p>“The post went by, sir,” was the answer. “I was +down at the door and saw the postman pass.”</p> +<p>Micky went back to his chair. It was all he could +expect, he told himself––there had been no answer to his +letter: there never would be an answer now.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span></div> +<p>When Driver came into the room again, Micky said +without looking up––</p> +<p>“Pack that bag again, there’s a good fellow, will you?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Driver imperturbably.</p> +<p>He hesitated, then asked––</p> +<p>“And––er––where did you say we should be going, +sir?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t say,” said Micky. “And I don’t care––on +the Continent––anywhere you like––look up some +hotels....”</p> +<p>One place was as good as another, he argued, as he +sat and watched Driver pack. Wherever he went he +was going to be infernally miserable, so what did it +matter?</p> +<p>When Driver stoically inquired how long he expected +to be away, Micky answered violently that he was never +coming back if he could help it; he said he hated London––he +said he was sick to death of his flat and wanted +a change.</p> +<p>“I shan’t come back till the autumn anyway,” he +declared recklessly.</p> +<p>“Very good, sir,” was the stolid reply. Driver knew +his master; he could remember another occasion when +Micky had left London in a rage never to return, and +ten days had seen him back again.</p> +<p>Certainly this was rather a different case from that +other; this time there was a woman behind it. Driver +knew this perfectly well, though beyond the posting of +letters and the buying of the fur coat he had had no firsthand +evidence.</p> +<p>But he kept his thoughts to himself and packed shirts +and socks and coats by the score, as if to keep up the +belief that they were really going for months, instead +of the day which were the limit he prescribed in his own +mind.</p> +<p>When Rochester called later on in the evening, Micky +was almost rude to him. The American looked so unfeignedly +happy that it got on Micky’s nerves; but George +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +P. Rochester was difficult to snub; he looked on at the +packing with childlike amazement.</p> +<p>“It’s a sudden idea of yours, this flitting!” he submitted +mildly. Micky did not answer.</p> +<p>“Hope you’ll be back in time for my wedding, Sonnie,” +Rochester said again.</p> +<p>Micky flushed crimson; there was something rather +pathetic about him at that moment.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll be back all right,” he said shortly.</p> +<p>Rochester laughed.</p> +<p>“You won’t have to stay away long then,” he said +significantly.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXXVII' id='CHAPTER_XXXVII'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> +</div> +<p>Esther woke from a troubled sleep that night, to +find June standing beside her. Pale moonlight +shone into the room from half-drawn blinds, filling +it with an eerie light, as Esther started up trembling and +frightened.</p> +<p>“What is it? is anything the matter? Oh, I thought +you were a ghost!” She clutched at June with both +hands. “Oh, is anything the matter?” she asked again.</p> +<p>June laughed nervously; she found matches and lit a +candle, then she came back to Esther and thrust something +into her hands.</p> +<p>“You’ll never forgive me,” she said. “But I’ve had +it in my coat pocket for two days....” She pushed +her dark hair back from her forehead tragically. “Lydia +gave it to me for you the day I went out in my best hat +to meet George, and I was such a selfish, conceited pig +that he put everything else out of my head, and I forgot +all about it till just now, when I was lying awake thinking +... and then ... oh, Esther, it’s from +Micky!”</p> +<p>Esther looked down at the crumpled envelope––</p> +<p>“From––Micky?...” she said. She was only half +awake; she made a very fair picture there with her long +hair tumbling about her shoulders, and her face a little +flushed and startled.</p> +<p>June turned to the door.</p> +<p>“I’ll go away––you don’t want me.... I’ll +go–––” but Esther caught her hand.</p> +<p>“No––no.... Wait! please wait!”</p> +<p>“Very well––but I’m half frozen....” June looked +plaintively at Esther, but Esther had forgotten her, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +she dragged the quilt from the bed, and wrapped it round +her small figure till she looked like a mummy.</p> +<p>There was a long silence, then Esther raised her eyes +to June’s anxious face.</p> +<p>Her own was quite colourless, and her grey eyes +looked dazed.</p> +<p>“Will you––will you––read it?” she said faintly. +“Please––I want you to––I ... somehow I feel as +if I’m dreaming.”</p> +<p>But June at any rate was wide awake. It only took +her two minutes to read Micky’s passionate appeal; the +next she was laughing and crying together, and hugging +Esther boisterously.</p> +<p>“Oh, isn’t he the most wonderful man? Don’t you +love him? Don’t you just adore him? Oh, if you’re +going to break his heart after all this, I’ll <i>never</i> forgive +you!... Why, my George isn’t in it with Micky, +poor darling!”––she shook Esther in her excitement––“What +are you made of, that you can’t see what a king +he is? I don’t believe there’s any blood in your veins +at all,” she declared indignantly. “You haven’t got a +heart.... Oh, Esther darling! I didn’t mean it––I––oh, +I’m such an idiot!...”</p> +<p>And the two girls clasped each other and cried together.</p> +<p>“And now if this ridiculous midnight scene is ended,” +June said presently, sniffing her tears away, “let’s talk +sense. I’ll go and see Micky in the morning and explain +everything. He knows what I am––he won’t be at all +surprised––oh, I’m so glad––so more than glad.... +Oh, Esther, <i>why</i> do you hide your face?”</p> +<p>“Because I’m so ashamed,” Esther said in a stifled +voice. “I’m not worth loving––I’ve ... oh, you +don’t <i>know</i> how I’ve treated him!”</p> +<p>June was silent for a minute, then she said gently––</p> +<p>“But Micky will forget all that––Micky never remembered +a mean thing against anybody in his life.” She +forced Esther to look at her. “Tell me one thing, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +then I’ll go and leave you in peace,” she coaxed. “Do +you––do you ... <i>you</i> know?”</p> +<p>But in this instance, at least, a verbal answer was not +necessary.</p> +<p>June kissed her rapturously.</p> +<p>“Oh, you darling,” she said. She blew out the candle, +and sped down to her own room again like a ghost in +the moonlight.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>“Was there anything else you was wanting, sir?” +Driver inquired stolidly. He stood on the platform looking +in at the first-class compartment where Micky sat +alone in durance vile, waiting for the train to start.</p> +<p>He frowned, and pulled his soft hat further down over +his eyes as he answered––</p> +<p>“No, nothing.... I’ll see you at Dover.”</p> +<p>There were many people on the platform; in the next +carriage a pretty girl was seeing a man off––looking up +at him as he stood on the footboard with eyes that told +their story eloquently.</p> +<p>Micky looked at her enviously. He would have given +his right hand if there had been some one there to see +him off with just that expression in her eyes––the right +some one, of course. He turned away from the window +with an uncomfortable lump in his throat.</p> +<p>He had nothing in the world but his confounded +money, and a lot of good that was to him! It could not +buy happiness.</p> +<p>The guard came down the platform––</p> +<p>“Take your seats––take your seats....”</p> +<p>A girl and a man pushed past him. The girl was +staring eagerly in at all the windows as she passed. +When she saw Micky she gave a little cry of relief.</p> +<p>“Here he is––Micky! Micky!”</p> +<p>Micky started to his feet.</p> +<p>“June!” he said. For a moment he thought something +must have happened––something was wrong––Esther!... +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +her name was trembling on his lips, but June rushed on +impetuously before he had time to speak it.</p> +<p>“We thought we’d come and see you off––George told +me you were going, and I guessed you’d be on this +train.... I’m so glad we found you––it’s rotten +seeing oneself off, isn’t it?...”</p> +<p>Rochester came up laughing and red in the face; he +took off his hat and mopped his hot forehead.</p> +<p>“I can’t keep pace with her, she’s like a whirlwind,” +he said whimsically. “She raced me off here before I +could say a word.”</p> +<p>“It’s kind of you to come,” Micky said.</p> +<p>He was pleased to see them; he felt decidedly less +ill-tempered than he had done a moment ago. He looked +down at June’s radiant face, and a little doubt went +through his heart.</p> +<p>He was in that dangerous state through which so +many men have to pass when the woman they love will +have none of them. If Marie Deland had happened to +turn up then, he would have asked for forgiveness and +have married her offhand and regretted it the next day; +and now, as he looked at June, he wondered if he had +been a fool not to properly appreciate her. He felt +a vague twinge of jealousy, realising that the days were +gone for ever when he had been the most wonderful +man in all the world to her.</p> +<p>He had never loved her save in a brotherly way, and +he did not love her now, but at heart men are all dogs +in the manger, and it was some such feeling that filled +Micky’s heart as he leaned out of the window and looked +at this girl.</p> +<p>“I hope you’ll have a good time,” she said cheerily. +“Have you got anything to read?”</p> +<p>“I shan’t want anything––I’m not in a reading mood.”</p> +<p>Micky was longing to ask about Esther, but pride prevented +him.</p> +<p>The guard was blowing his whistle; doors were slamming; +June gripped Micky’s hand.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span></div> +<p>“Be a good boy, and have a good time,” she said. +There was a furious excitement in her eyes.</p> +<p>He made a grimace.</p> +<p>“I’m not expecting to have a good time,” he answered.</p> +<p>The train was slowly moving; June ran a few steps to +keep up with it. Micky blurted out his question at last––</p> +<p>“Miss Shepstone ... Esther ... is she all +right, June?”</p> +<p>June smiled.</p> +<p>“Oh, she’s first rate,” she said airily. “She’s gone +away for a holiday.... Good-bye.” She fell back +laughing and waving her hand.</p> +<p>Micky kept his head out of the window till a cloud +of smoke from the engine blown backwards shut out +all sight of her, then he drew in, dragging the window +up with a slam.</p> +<p>Gone away for a holiday, had she?––well––it was nothing +to him. He turned round to go back to his seat in the +corner then stopping dead, staring as if he had seen a +ghost; for Esther was sitting there just behind him, +looking up at him with scared eyes.</p> +<p>For a moment Micky did not move; he was like a +man turned to stone. Then the blood rushed to his face +in a crimson tide; he broke out into stammering speech––</p> +<p>“You ... you ... what ... what ... +I thought....” He swayed forward a little and caught +her hands. “You are real––I thought ... I thought +I was just imagining it all; I thought.... Oh, wait +a moment....” He sat down and leaned his head +in his hands.</p> +<p>He felt sure that he must be mad or dreaming––the +world had turned upside down and pitched his thoughts +into chaos; he was sure that when next he looked Esther +would no longer be there––he dreaded having to raise +his eyes.</p> +<p>Esther stretched a timid hand to him; her voice shook +as she said––</p> +<p>“Oh, I thought ... I thought perhaps you’d be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +glad to see me––just ... just a little––glad....”</p> +<p>“Glad!” Micky echoed the word with almost a shout. +He got up and went over to her; he looked down at her +with an agony of doubt and fear in his eyes.</p> +<p>“Why have you come?” he asked hoarsely. “If this +is only a joke––if it’s any nonsense of June’s ... +by God, it’s the cruellest joke you could have played on +me.... I––I....”</p> +<p>Esther covered her face with her hands.</p> +<p>“If that’s all you’ve got to say to me,” she began +tremblingly.</p> +<p>“Esther....”</p> +<p>He drew her hands down; he forced her to look at +him; for a long moment his eyes searched her face disbelievingly, +not daring to hope....</p> +<p>Her cheeks flamed, but she met his eyes bravely.</p> +<p>Micky drew a long breath; he passed a hand across +his eyes as if to waken himself.</p> +<p>Then all at once he seemed to realise that this was +in very truth the woman he wanted sitting beside him; +that she was here and for his sake; that he was alone +and unhappy no longer; and that after all the weeks of +hunger and restlessness he had got his heart’s desire.</p> +<p>He looked down at her tremulous face with eyes of +passionate tenderness.</p> +<p>“Is this my wife?” he asked hoarsely, and Esther answered––</p> +<p>“If you still want me.”</p> +<p>“Want you!” Micky caught her to him. “Haven’t I +always wanted you?...”</p> +<p>Fortunately the train was not very full, and the corridor +immediately outside their carriage was deserted, +or somebody might have had a very interesting demonstration +of how to kiss a woman who had refused for +months to be kissed.</p> +<p>Micky was like a boy in his happiness. He looked +years younger than the gloomy man who had dismissed +Driver ten minutes since. He could not take his eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +from Esther––he could not believe in his own happiness +even while he was engulfed in it. His arm was round +her, regardless of chance wanderers in the corridor––he +held her hand to his lips and kissed it passionately.</p> +<p>“What have you done with ... that other ring +you used to wear?” he asked jealously.</p> +<p>She turned her face away.</p> +<p>“I threw it out of the window when we came back +from Paris,” she told him.</p> +<p>“I’ll give you another. I’m going to give you everything +you want now.”</p> +<p>“You’ve been too good to me already,” she said. “I +can never repay you.”</p> +<p>“You’ve given me yourself. There is nothing else in +the world that I want.”</p> +<p>He laughed happily.</p> +<p>He bent his head towards her.</p> +<p>“Esther ... when did you ... when did +you first ... think that you liked me ... just +a little?”</p> +<p>Her head dropped; he could not see her face.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” she said in a whisper.</p> +<p>“In Paris,” he urged, “or before? Tell me.”</p> +<p>“I think it was in Paris––after ... after I saw +... Raymond! You were so kind ... so different.”</p> +<p>He laughed ruefully.</p> +<p>“I was nearer hating you then than ever in my life.”</p> +<p>He saw the colour creep into her face. “You’ve told +me ever so many times that you hated me,” he went on +quickly, “but you never told me that you ... loved +me, Esther!”</p> +<p>He waited, but she did not look at him.</p> +<p>Then suddenly she took his hand in both of hers; she +bent her head and kissed it with a sort of passionate +gratitude that brought a mist to Micky’s eyes. He seemed +to see her all at once as he had first seen her that New +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +Year’s Eve; alone, unhappy––with nobody to care what +she did, or what became of her.</p> +<p>“You’re so much, much too good for me,” she said +brokenly. “You’ve done everything for me, and I’ve +done nothing for you––I haven’t even been ... nice! +I can’t tell you what I feel about it all––I only know +that––just lately––you’ve––you’ve made everything seem +so different––since you wrote me that letter––it makes +me feel in my heart that it’s always really been you––always +you, and never ... never any one else.”</p> +<p>“Darling,” said Micky huskily. “And perhaps––some +day––do you ... do you ... think ... +you could ever care for me more than ... than you +cared for ... that other fellow, confound him!” he +added fiercely.</p> +<p>She looked up at him and smiled.</p> +<p>“I think,” she said slowly, “that I only ... only +really began to care for––him––when he went away––and +when those letters began to come; and so you see––it +was always you, because it was you who wrote them.”</p> +<p>“It was a rotten thing to do, but I wanted to help you.”</p> +<p>“You did help me ... and––Micky....”</p> +<p>“Darling....”</p> +<p>“My fur coat ... can I––will you give it back +to me?”</p> +<p>“I’ll give you everything in the world if you’ll say you +love me....”</p> +<p>“I do––I....”</p> +<p>“Say it then,” he urged gently.</p> +<p>For a moment she did not answer; she was still a +little afraid of him; she still felt something of pride and +constraint between them; though she knew it was for her +to sweep away the last barrier.</p> +<p>She looked up at him, the sensitive colour rushing to +her face.</p> +<p>“I love you,” she said softly. “Oh, Micky, some one +will see–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span></div> +<p>But Micky only laughed.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>The train was running on to Dover Harbour before +Micky realised it; he looked at Esther with pretended dismay +in his happy eyes.</p> +<p>“And pray, what am I to do with you, madame? Do +you realise that I’m going to Paris?”</p> +<p>“I know–––” She laughed. “I’m going there too––of +course, if you’d like to travel in a different train to +me....”</p> +<p>She was a very different Esther from the pale, frightened-looking +girl who had said good-bye to June at Victoria. +Her eyes were dancing now, and her face was +radiant. Micky regarded her with proud satisfaction.</p> +<p>“You look years younger and prettier already,” he +said. “And that’s after only an hour or two of my wonderful +society; so what you’ll look like when we’ve been +married for years and years....”</p> +<p>He stopped, and a sudden emotion filled his face.</p> +<p>“What shall we do, love of mine?” he asked tenderly, +“Shall we go on, or shall we go back?”</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>“I don’t mind––either way, I’m afraid you’ll have to +pay for me,” she told him saucily. “June rushed me +off so, I forgot my purse––Mr. Rochester got me a ticket, +but....”</p> +<p>“We’ll go on,” said Micky hurriedly. The train was +almost at a standstill. “You said you hated Paris––but +you won’t hate it with me. We’ll get married as soon +as we get there––I’ll take you everywhere.”</p> +<p>Her eyes fell.</p> +<p>“I haven’t any nice clothes––I only brought a small +case; I never thought you ... you....” She +stopped, stammering.</p> +<p>“Paris is full of clothes,” he told her. “We’ll stay +just long enough to buy what you want, and then we’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +go south. Esther, you’ve never seen the south of France +in springtime, have you? I’ll take you there for our +honeymoon.”</p> +<p>She drew back a little.</p> +<p>“But, Micky––there’s June––what will she say––what +will she think?”</p> +<p>“She’ll think that you’ve behaved sensibly––at last!” +he answered audaciously. “June knew she wouldn’t +see either of us again for some time when we left her at +Victoria––June is a most discerning woman.”</p> +<p>“She’s a dear,” said Esther warmly. “I owe all my +happiness to her.”</p> +<p>Micky pretended to look offended.</p> +<p>“I was under the delusion that you owed it to me,” +he said with dignity.</p> +<p>“To you!” Her face changed wonderfully; she bent +her head and kissed the sleeve of his coat.</p> +<p>“I can’t talk about what I owe you––it’s just––everything!”</p> +<p>Micky drew himself up a dignified inch.</p> +<p>“I’m beginning to think I’m a very wonderful man, +do you know?” he said, addressing some imaginary person.</p> +<p>Driver appeared at the door. He hesitated for just +the faintest possible moment when he saw Esther, but +his face was as stolid as ever.</p> +<p>Micky rose to the occasion, though he turned rather +red.</p> +<p>“Driver,” he said, “let me introduce you to my +wife–––”</p> +<p>Driver touched a respectful forelock; if he felt surprise +he did not show it.</p> +<p>He took Esther’s suit-case down from the rack.</p> +<p>“Was you––was you wanting to send a wire, sir?” +he asked stolidly.</p> +<p>Micky looked at the girl beside him.</p> +<p>“Send June one from Paris,” she said. “I don’t know +what she’ll say–––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span></div> +<p>But June might have been expecting the wire, judging +from the calm way in which she received it; she showed +it to Rochester as if it were nothing out of the way; +she looked over his shoulder as he read it.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Married in Paris this morning. Love from Mr. and Mrs. +Micky.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>She laughed and met Rochester’s eyes; there seemed +to be an inquiry in his. June hesitated a moment, then +she nodded.</p> +<p>And forty-eight hours later Micky and Esther read her +reply just as they were leaving for the flower-fields of +France––</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“Married in London this morning––June and George.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Some people have no originality,” Micky complained +in pretended disgust.</p> +<p>“But if they’re half as happy as <i>we</i> are,” Esther said +shyly.</p> +<p>Micky looked scornfully sceptical.</p> +<p>“Oh well! if you’re going to expect the impossible....” +he submitted.</p> +<p style='font-variant:small-caps;text-align:center; margin-top:2em;'>The End</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><i>“The Books You Like to Read<br /> +at the Price You Like to Pay</i>”<br /> +<br /> +<span style='font-style:italic;font-size:1.4em;'>There Are Two Sides<br /> +to Everything</span>––</p> +<p>––including the wrapper which covers +every Grosset & Dunlap book. When +you feel in the mood for a good romance, +refer to the carefully selected list +of modern fiction comprising most of +the successes by prominent writers of +the day which is printed on the back of +every Grosset & Dunlap book wrapper.</p> +<p>You will find more than five hundred +titles to choose from––books for every +mood and every taste and every pocket-book.</p> +<p><i>Don’t forget the other side, but in case +the wrapper is lost, write to the publishers +for a complete catalog</i>.</p> +<p class='center'><i>There is a Grosset & Dunlap Book<br /> +for every mood and for every taste</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.8em;'>B. M. BOWER’S NOVELS</span><br /> +<br /> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>CASEY RYAN</p> +<p>CHIP OF THE FLYING U</p> +<p>COW-COUNTRY</p> +<p>FLYING U RANCH</p> +<p>FLYING U’S LAST STAND, THE</p> +<p>GOOD INDIAN</p> +<p>GRINGOS, THE</p> +<p>HAPPY FAMILY, THE</p> +<p>HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT</p> +<p>HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX, THE</p> +<p>LONG SHADOW, THE</p> +<p>LONESOME TRAIL, THE</p> +<p>LOOKOUT MAN, THE</p> +<p>LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS, THE</p> +<p>PHANTOM HERD, THE</p> +<p>QUIRT, THE</p> +<p>RANGE DWELLERS, THE</p> +<p>RIM O’ THE WORLD</p> +<p>SKYRIDER</p> +<p>STARR OF THE DESERT</p> +<p>THUNDER BIRD, THE</p> +<p>TRAIL OF THE WHITE MULE, THE</p> +<p>UPHILL CLIMB, THE</p> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.00em;'><span class='smcap'>Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></span></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.8em;'>ZANE GREY’S NOVELS</span><br /> +<br /> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>TO THE LAST MAN</p> +<p>THE MYSTERIOUS RIDER</p> +<p>THE MAN OF THE FOREST</p> +<p>THE DESERT OF WHEAT</p> +<p>THE U. P. TRAIL</p> +<p>WILDFIRE</p> +<p>THE BORDER LEGION</p> +<p>THE RAINBOW TRAIL</p> +<p>THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT</p> +<p>RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE</p> +<p>THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS</p> +<p>THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN</p> +<p>THE LONE STAR RANGER</p> +<p>DESERT GOLD</p> +<p>BETTY ZANE</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS</p> +<p>The life story of “Buffalo Bill” by his sister Helen Cody +Wetmore, with Foreword and conclusion by Zane Grey.</p> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.8em;'>ZANE GREY’S BOOKS FOR BOYS</span></p> +<p>KEN WARD IN THE JUNGLE</p> +<p>THE YOUNG LION HUNTER</p> +<p>THE YOUNG FORESTER</p> +<p>THE YOUNG PITCHER</p> +<p>THE SHORT STOP</p> +<p>THE RED-HEADED OUTFIELD AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES</p> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.00em;'><span class='smcap'>Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></span></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.8em;'>ETHEL M. DELL’S NOVELS</span><br /> +<br /> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>THE LAMP IN THE DESERT</p> +<p>The scene of this splendid story is laid in India and +tells of the lamp of love that continues to shine through +all sorts of tribulations to final happiness.</p> +<p>GREATHEART</p> +<p>The story of a cripple whose deformed body conceals +a noble soul.</p> +<p>THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE</p> +<p>A hero who worked to win even when there was only +“a hundredth chance.”</p> +<p>THE SWINDLER</p> +<p>The story of a “bad man’s” soul revealed by a +woman’s faith.</p> +<p>THE TIDAL WAVE</p> +<p>Tales of love and of women who learned to know the +true from the false.</p> +<p>THE SAFETY CURTAIN</p> +<p>A very vivid love story of India. The volume also +contains four other long stories of equal interest.</p> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.00em;'><span class='smcap'>Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></span></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.4em;'>“STORM COUNTRY” BOOKS BY</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style='font-size:1.8em;'>GRACE MILLER WHITE</span><br /> +<br /> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>JUDY OF ROGUES’ HARBOR</p> +<p>Judy’s untutored ideas of God, her love of wild things, +her faith in life are quite as inspiring as those of Tess. +Her faith and sincerity catch at your heart strings. This +book has all of the mystery and tense action of the other +Storm Country books.</p> +<p>TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY</p> +<p>It was as Tess, beautiful, wild, impetuous, that Mary +Pickford made her reputation as a motion picture actress. +How love acts upon a temperament such as hers––a temperament +that makes a woman an angel or an outcast, according +to the character of the man she loves––is the +theme of the story.</p> +<p>THE SECRET OF THE STORM COUNTRY</p> +<p>The sequel to “Tess of the Storm Country,” with the +same wild background, with its half-gypsy life of the squatters––tempestuous, +passionate, brooding. Tess learns the +“secret” of her birth and finds happiness and love through +her boundless faith in life.</p> +<p>FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING</p> +<p>A haunting story with its scene laid near the country +familiar to readers of “Tess of the Storm Country.”</p> +<p>ROSE O’ PARADISE</p> +<p>“Jinny” Singleton, wild, lovely, lonely, but with a passionate +yearning for music, grows up in the house of Lafe +Grandoken, a crippled cobbler of the Storm Country. Her +romance is full of power and glory and tenderness.</p> +<p class='center'><i>Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i><br /> +<br /> +<span style='font-size:1.00em;'><span class='smcap'>Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></span></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.4em;'>THE NOVELS OF</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style='font-size:1.8em;'>MARY ROBERTS RINEHART</span><br /> +<br /> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>DANGEROUS DAYS.</p> +<p>A brilliant story of married life. A romance of fine purpose and +stirring appeal.</p> +<p>THE AMAZING INTERLUDE.</p> +<p>Illustrations by The Kinneys.</p> +<p>The story of a great love which cannot be pictured––an interlude––amazing, +romantic.</p> +<p>LOVE STORIES.</p> +<p>This book is exactly what its title indicates, a collection of love +affairs––sparkling with humor, tenderness and sweetness.</p> +<p>“K.” Illustrated.</p> +<p>K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, goes to live in a little town where +beautiful Sidney Page lives. She is in training to become a nurse. +The joys and troubles of their young love are told with keen and +sympathetic appreciation.</p> +<p>THE MAN IN LOWER TEN.</p> +<p>Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p> +<p>An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death +of the “Man in Lower Ten.”</p> +<p>WHEN A MAN MARRIES.</p> +<p>Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.</p> +<p>A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that +his aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the +family income, knows nothing of the domestic upheaval. How the +young man met the situation is entertainingly told.</p> +<p>THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE. Illustrated by Lester Ralph.</p> +<p>The occupants of “Sunnyside” find the dead body of Arnold +Armstrong on the circular staircase. Following the murder a bank +failure is announced. Around these two events is woven a plot of +absorbing interest.</p> +<p>THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS. (Photoplay Edition.)</p> +<p>Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly +realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young +ambitious doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together +with world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their +love and slender means.</p> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.00em;'><span class='smcap'>Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></span></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.8em;'>RUBY M. AYRE’S NOVELS</span><br /> +<br /> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>RICHARD CHATTERTON</p> +<p>A fascinating story in which love and jealousy play +strange tricks with women’s souls.</p> +<p>A BACHELOR HUSBAND</p> +<p>Can a woman love two men at the same time?</p> +<p>In its solving of this particular variety of triangle “A +Bachelor Husband” will particularly interest, and strangely +enough, without one shock to the most conventional minded.</p> +<p>THE SCAR</p> +<p>With fine comprehension and insight the author shows a +terrific contrast between the woman whose love was of the +flesh and one whose love was of the spirit.</p> +<p>THE MARRIAGE OF BARRY WICKLOW</p> +<p>Here is a man and woman who, marrying for love, yet try +to build their wedded life upon a gospel of hate for each +other and yet win back to a greater love for each other in +the end.</p> +<p>THE UPHILL ROAD</p> +<p>The heroine of this story was a consort of thieves. The +man was fine, clean, fresh from the West. It is a story of +strength and passion.</p> +<p>WINDS OF THE WORLD</p> +<p>Jill, a poor little typist, marries the great Henry Sturgess +and inherits millions, but not happiness. Then at last––but +we must leave that to Ruby M. Ayres to tell you as only +she can.</p> +<p>THE SECOND HONEYMOON</p> +<p>In this story the author has produced a book which no +one who has loved or hopes to love can afford to miss. +The story fairly leaps from climax to climax.</p> +<p>THE PHANTOM LOVER</p> +<p>Have you not often heard of someone being in love with +love rather than the person they believed the object of their +affections? That was Esther! But she passes through the +crisis into a deep and profound love.</p> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.00em;'><span class='smcap'>Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></span></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.8em;'>JACKSON GREGORY’S NOVELS</span><br /> +<br /> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list</p> +<p>THE EVERLASTING WHISPER</p> +<p>The story of a strong man’s struggle against savage nature and humanity, +and of a beautiful girl’s regeneration from a spoiled child of wealth into +a courageous strong-willed woman.</p> +<p>DESERT VALLEY</p> +<p>A college professor sets out with his daughter to find gold. They meet +a rancher who loses his heart, and become involved in a feud. An intensely +exciting story.</p> +<p>MAN TO MAN</p> +<p>Encircled with enemies, distrusted, Steve defends his rights. How he +won his game and the girl he loved is the story filled with breathless +situations.</p> +<p>THE BELLS OF SAN JUAN</p> +<p>Dr. Virginia Page is forced to go with the sheriff on a night journey +into the strongholds of a lawless band. Thrills and excitement sweep the +reader along to the end.</p> +<p>JUDITH OF BLUE LAKE RANCH</p> +<p>Judith Sanford part owner of a cattle ranch realizes she is being robbed +by her foreman. How, with the help of Bud Lee, she checkmates Trevor’s +scheme makes fascinating reading.</p> +<p>THE SHORT CUT</p> +<p>Wayne is suspected of killing his brother after a violent quarrel. Financial +complications, villains, a horse-race and beautiful Wanda, all go to make +up a thrilling romance.</p> +<p>THE JOYOUS TROUBLE MAKER</p> +<p>A reporter sets up housekeeping close to Beatrice’s Ranch much to her +chagrin. There is “another man” who complicates matters, but all turns +out as it should in this tale of romance and adventure.</p> +<p>SIX FEET FOUR</p> +<p>Beatrice Waverly is robbed of $5,000 and suspicion fastens upon Buck +Thornton, but she soon realizes he is not guilty. Intensely exciting, here is a +real story of the Great Far West.</p> +<p>WOLF BREED</p> +<p>No Luck Drennan had grown hard through loss of faith in men he had +trusted. A woman hater and sharp of tongue, he finds a match in Ygerne +whose clever fencing wins the admiration and love of the “Lone Wolf.”</p> +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:1.00em;'><span class='smcap'>Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></span></p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.17 --> +<!-- timestamp: Mon Oct 19 02:43:19 -0600 2009 --> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30286 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30286-h/images/f0001-img.png b/30286-h/images/f0001-img.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..089bba5 --- /dev/null +++ b/30286-h/images/f0001-img.png |
