Micky turned up at Paddington the following morning laden with papers
and chocolates.
"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?"
"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.
"I think it's awfully exciting," she said, meeting his eyes. "We never
thought about going till quite late last night, did we, June?"
"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."
"Pity you haven't got a car down there," Micky said. "There ought to
be some fine runs round about."
"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----"
Micky flushed eagerly.
"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.
Esther smiled; she was surprised to find that the idea was not at all
distasteful to her.
"Oh yes; do come!" she said.
June had got into the carriage, and was busy arranging her various
possessions.
"You'll be left behind, Esther," she said warningly.
Esther turned at once.
"Good-bye, Mr. Mellowes."
Micky took her hand in a hard grip.
"Good-bye--but only till to-morrow...."
He stood back as the train started; the last glimpse the two girls had
of him was his radiantly smiling face.
"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?"
"He's awfully kind," Esther agreed.
* * * * *
When the train drew into the little station at Enmore June looked at
Esther with a sort of apprehension.
"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...."
"Don't you think he will?" Esther asked quickly.
"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."
"I can amuse myself."
June sniffed.
"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."
They were on the platform now, and June eyed their two suit-cases
ruefully.
"We shall have to carry them," she said. "No porters or taxicabs here,
my dear. Come along."
She grabbed her own, and Esther followed her out into the road.
It was cold but sunny, and the fresh air of the country was something
quite different from the chilly, damp atmosphere they had left behind
in London.
Esther drew a deep breath.
"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."
"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?"
Esther laughed.
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.
"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."
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.
"My dears! I never was so delighted! June--after all these months you
really have come to see me."
She kissed June heartily and turned to Esther. June introduced them.
"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."
They followed Miss Dearling into a quaint little square room, where
the table was laid for lunch. June talked away all the time.
"There's another member of the party coming down to-morrow," she said.
"No; a man this time--Micky 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."
"I remember Mr. Mellowes quite well," Miss Dearling said. When she was
alone with Esther for a moment she whispered to her--
"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."
"Yes, I've seen him," Esther said. "He is nice--very!"
"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."
"Yes," said Esther.
She felt Miss Dearling glance at her hands.
"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...."
Esther coloured.
"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."
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.
"I do hope he is nice," she said anxiously. "Such a very charming
girl! such a sweet-looking girl! Is he nice, my dear?"
June crossed the room and shut the door; then she turned round with a
little grimace.
"He's a pig!" she said.
Miss Dearling screamed.
"Oh, my dear!"
"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.
* * * * *
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.
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.
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.
"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.
"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."
There was a little silence. Esther flushed beneath the elder girl's
shrewd gaze.
"I should have thought he could have found out where we live," she
said rather awkwardly. "And it's such a little way----"
June rose with a great show of dignity.
"Oh, very well, if you don't want to be obliging, but I do think you
might...."
"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?"
"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."
Esther made a little grimace.
She felt nervous when at five minutes to three exactly she walked down
the winding road to the station.
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.
"No, I'm waiting for a gentleman--I--oh, here he is."
"'Twas her young gentleman for sure," the sleepy-eyed one told his
colleague afterwards. "She blushed up like a rose when she saw him."
Micky noticed that blush, too, as he turned the car with a fine sweep
and came to a standstill.
Esther greeted him with a torrent of explanation.
"June couldn't come, so she made me--she had to go out on business.
She would make me come!"
"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?"
"It's very quiet, but I like it for a change, and June's aunt is ever
so kind."
"Yes, a dear old lady; I know her well. Did you tell her I was
coming?"
"June did...."
His eyes swept her face anxiously. No trace of tears or sadness
to-day, at all events.
"Are we supposed to go straight home?" he asked after a moment.
"Because, if not, what do you say to a run round first?"
Esther's eyes sparkled.
"I should love it!" She got in beside him, and the car started away.
"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."
"It's lovely!" Esther agreed.
She leaned back luxuriously.
"It must be splendid to be able to have a car like this of your very
own," she said suddenly.
Micky laughed rather ruefully.
"There are other things I would far rather have," he said.
"Are there?" She looked up at him innocently. "What things?" she
asked.
Micky's hands tightened over the wheel.
"Am I really to answer that question?" he asked.
"No," said Esther hurriedly.
She could not think why she had been so stupid as to say such a thing.
She felt very vexed.
They went some way in silence. Esther glanced at the man beside her
timidly.
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.
Micky glanced down at her.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"I am a little"--she smiled up at him--"in spite of my new coat," she
said. "I think we had better go home."
June came to the door to meet them.
"I got home earlier than I thought," she told Esther. "Well, Micky?"
"Are there any letters?" Esther asked. She felt a swift feeling of
envy as she looked at these two, so openly and unfeignedly glad to see
one another. "I suppose it's expecting too much though," she added
with a sigh.
June did not answer, and Esther went on and up the stairs.
"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?"
"Sure," said Micky stolidly.
"Then shall I--what shall I do about that letter--it was sent on from
London. Ought I to let her have it?"
Micky was taking off his coat, his back was turned.
"Oh, let her have it," he said casually. "It may be the last she'll
ever get."
He turned swiftly. "Let me look at it."
June took it from her dress and handed it to him.
He glanced at the writing and gave it back to her.
"Oh yes, I should let her have it," he said again.
But June still hesitated.
"Micky--supposing it's to tell her about--you know ... about this
marriage?"
There was a moment's silence.
"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.