"When? How--oh, Micky, do tell me!"

"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.

"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?"

Micky looked away.

"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."

"Yes, she loves him right enough," June admitted gloomily. "It was quite an accident that she told me 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."

"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."

"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!"

"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."

June was silent for a moment.

"Esther is laying up trouble for herself," she said then. "Don't you think she is?"

"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."

"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?"

Micky shrugged his shoulders.

"She's not married yet," he said laconically. "Have some tipsy cake, will you?"

"No--I don't want any more."

"Well, I do. Waitress...."

It was a deliberate attempt to change the conversation, and June knew it; she sat back in her chair frowning.

She supposed Micky would not talk about Ashton because he was his friend; men were so absurdly loyal to one another.

"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."

Micky was prodding the tipsy cake with a fork.

"She hasn't married him yet," he said stoically. "And if she's happy----"

"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 gla.s.ses."

Micky smiled.

"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."

"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!"

Micky coloured.

"Well--I thought it would be better not, certainly."

June regarded him severely.

"You're a deep soul," she said. "I never even guessed that you knew anything."

"Why should you? And I don't know anything. Can't we talk about something else?" he asked plaintively.

It was getting on his nerves, this constant conversation about Esther.

"So you'll come along to-morrow, eh?" he asked presently. "It's a long time since we went for a little jaunt together."

"I shall love it." But June answered absently; her thoughts were still with Esther.

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.

June watched him across the table. He didn't look a bit well, she thought. What was the matter with him?

"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.

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.

"Ideal," he said quietly. "Shall we go?"

"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?"

"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."

"I'll let you know," said June vaguely.

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!

"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!"

Tea was ready when she got in, and Esther and Charlie sat curled up together in the firelight.

"I've got an invitation for us both to-morrow night," June said, even as she opened the door.

Esther looked up eagerly; she had had rather a dull day of it.

"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?"

"I haven't a dress," said Esther promptly.