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.
"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.
Micky obeyed at once. He was beginning to recover himself a little.
"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...."
"How do you know she would?" June demanded with suspicion.
Micky met her eyes squarely.
"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?"
"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----"
"Why do you say 'supposed'--she is engaged to him, isn't she?"
June shrugged her shoulders.
"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...."
"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.
"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.
"No," said Micky honestly. "It's not boring me at all, I promise
you."
"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----"
"I know it very well," said Micky.
"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!"
She sighed, and leaned back in her chair despondently.
"Have a cake," said Micky absently; he pushed the plate across to her.
"The ones with the white sugar are nice."
Miss Mason ignored him.
"If that's all the interest you take----" she said offendedly.
Micky started.
"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?"
"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."
"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."
Miss Mason looked wise.
"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."
"I've never written a love-letter in my life," Micky declared
indignantly. "And, anyway----"
June leaned across the table and looked at him with accusing eyes.
"Never? On your word of honour, Micky?"
Micky laughed and coloured.
"Well, perhaps--once!" he admitted. "But that's beside the point,
isn't it?... I'll think things over and write to you."
"Yes, but soon, Micky, soon! It's not a case where you can sit down
with your feet on the mantelpiece and 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----"
"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.
June was drawing on her gloves; she had very white hands and
beautifully-kept finger-nails, and she was very proud of them.
"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?"
She rose and gathered up her various belongings. Micky declared that
she was always laden with small, oddly-shaped parcels.
"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."
"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?"
"Bless your heart, yes--and if you come to tea one day----"
"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."
Miss Mason laughed.
"Oh, you'll help her right enough," she said breezily. "I know you."
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?"
"As soon as there is anything to report."
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.
"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."
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.
"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.