June rounded on her angrily.

"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.

"I knew him before we met here--he wanted to tell you, but I asked him not to----" She stopped and dragged on again.

"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."

"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."

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.

"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."

"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 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."

"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.

June swooped down on her.

"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."

They went upstairs together.

"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 a.s.sure you I'm a good-looking woman when I come home again."

"You're always better than good-looking," Esther told her.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

June tucked Esther up in bed and replenished the fire. She turned out the gas, leaving the room fire-lit.

"June," Esther said timidly. "What did your aunt think? What did she say--when--when----"

"She said we must go back and finish our visit another time--she took a great fancy to you."

"You're saying that to please me."

"I'm not! honest Injun!" June heard the tears in Esther's voice; she bent and kissed her gently.

"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.

Esther lay awake for a long time watching the firelight on the walls and ceiling, and thinking of what had happened.

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.

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.

But she would see him again soon--she comforted herself with the a.s.surance. 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!

It was her last thought as she fell asleep, that she would surely see him the next day.

But Micky did not come!

Esther rested till lunch time, after which June insisted on a walk.

"The sun's shining, and it's wicked to stay indoors," she declared; she marched Esther about for half an hour.

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.

The evening dragged away.

"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."

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?

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.

She came in while Esther was dressing. She looked very pleased and alert.

"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 _are_!" as Esther shook her head. "I've told him all about you already." Esther laughed.

"You must have got on very fast," she said. "And anyway I'm not going to play odd-man-out."

June made a little grimace.

"I telephoned Micky and asked him to come and make a fourth," she admitted.

Esther flushed. She looked up eagerly:

"And--and is he coming?"

June shook her head.

"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 _want_ to come."

"Oh," said Esther faintly. "I expect he has a good many engagements,"

she added after a moment.

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.