The Phantom Lover Part 17

Driver raised wooden eyes.

"Anywhere you wish, sir," he answered, in his usual expressionless voice. "When were you thinking of starting, sir?"

"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?"

"Yes, sir, if you think you can manage without me here."

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.

But Micky only laughed.

"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.

"No, sir," said Driver.

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.

"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."

"Yes, sir----" Driver hesitated. "And--what were you wanting me to do when I get there, sir?" he asked, after a moment.

Micky clung to his joke for an instant longer, then suddenly he let it go.

"I want you to post a letter for me," he said.

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.

"And am I to go at once, sir?"

"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.

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.

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 sc.r.a.p of paper it contained.

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.

Its contents were not very long, but they had taken a good deal of composing.

"DEAR MISS SHEPSTONE,--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 a.s.sure 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."

He gave a dissatisfied growl as he finished reading it. 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.

Not in the least alike! n.o.body would ever suspect that they had been written by the same person.

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."

"Yes, sir." Driver looked at the other letter. "And--is that for the post too, sir?"

Micky put his hand behind him with a guilty gesture.

"No; I'll post that myself," he said, and he went out then and there into the cold night and did so.

As it dropped into the letter-box Micky looked up at the stars and sighed.

What the d.i.c.kens 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.

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.

What the deuce would they think of him?

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.

He went to bed feeling miserable.

Driver had just left the house to catch the boat train the following morning when June Mason rang Micky up.

"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?"

"Everything," said Micky promptly. "In a couple of days--"

"My good man, that's much too long to wait."

"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."

He heard the sigh she gave.

"Honest Injun!" he said seriously.

"Oh, very well. If you let me down, Micky----"

"You won't be let down," Micky said.

June went back to Elphinstone Road with a heavy heart.

She was very thorough in her friendships, and it really seemed a terrible thing to her that Esther would not accept help.

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.

June stared at him for some time, then suddenly she got up and went downstairs.

She knocked at Esther's door, but there was no answer, and she went back to her own room dejectedly.

If only Esther were not so proud they might have such good times together! If only Esther had a little money 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.