The Phantom Lover Part 22

She carried a tray of cakes and hot toast; she set it down with a thump on the round table by the fire.

"I coaxed it out of Mrs. Elders," she explained breathlessly. "I generally keep some cake up here myself, but I haven't got a bit to-day. Esther, fetch the cloth, there's a dear; and, Micky, you put the kettle on--I have filled it."

She bustled about, talking the whole time; if she noticed the constraint between the other two she said nothing till tea was ready, and she sat down amongst the mauve cushions with a breathless sigh.

"Now we're going to be cosy. Well, and how have you two been getting on? Micky, I've told Esther so much about you, she's sick to death of the sound of your name."

"I never said so," Esther protested quickly.

"Have some cake," Micky said; he deposited a slice on June's plate and adroitly changed the subject. He was furiously angry; he had not believed that Esther had it in her to turn on him as she had done. But the more she snubbed him, the more determined he was not to be snubbed. As he sat there stirring his tea and listening to June's chatter he was watching Esther all the time.

She had taken off her coat now. He wondered if it was the coat his money had bought her; it was not half good enough, anyway. He thought of the furs and expensive gloves which Marie Deland wore, and he longed to be able to give some to this little girl who sat there with such angry defiance in her eyes.

He realised that this pride of hers was going to be the hardest barrier of all between them.

She could not forgive him because he was a rich man and had pretended to be poor; she could not forget that he had paid for her dinner and a saucer of milk for the cat. He looked down to where Charlie sat blinking in the firelight, and a little smile crossed his face. He wondered if perhaps some day soon she would offer to repay him for that night--if she would insist on doing so, as she had insisted on paying her share of everything with June.

"More tea?" June demanded across the table, and Micky said, "Oh--er--yes, thanks," hurriedly. As long as the meal was unfinished Esther would have to stay in the room, he thought; she could not very well leave before; but in this he was mistaken, for Esther put her cup down almost at once and looked at June.

"Will you think me very rude if I run away?" she asked. "I've got to see Mrs. Elders and tell her I am staying on--I think she has been trying to let my room."

June looked disappointed. "Oh, well, if you really must go," she said.

"Come back when you've seen her."

"Thank you," said Esther. She turned to Micky, who had risen. "I won't say good-bye, then," she said with an effort to speak lightly.

He held open the door for her, and a moment later she had gone. As soon as he came back to his chair June rounded on him.

"What have you said to annoy her?" She looked quite angry! "I wanted you to like each other. Really, Micky, you are the limit! She won't come back again, you see if she does."

"No," said Micky. "I don't think she will." He laughed a rather chagrined laugh. "I haven't said anything as far as I know," he added.

"It's what you've said, I fancy. You've fed her up with accounts of what a wonderful person I am."

"So you are," said June.

He frowned.

"It's kind of you to think so, but I don't know anybody else who shares your opinion."

"Well, I can't help the world being full of idiots, can I?" she demanded in exasperation. "And, Micky, why did you come here to-day?

When I asked you before you said you didn't want to come; you've soon changed your mind."

"I came to tell you about Miss Shepstone. You asked me to get her a berth...."

June laughed.

"My dear boy, you're too late! She doesn't want your help now, or mine either, for that matter," she added ruefully. "She's a lady of means--that wonderful man of hers who's tucked up in Paris having the time of his life is going to allow her three pounds a week."

She paused and looked across at him expectantly.

"Well, why don't you look surprised?" she asked.

Micky swallowed hard.

"I am surprised!" he said. "Too jolly surprised for anything. It's good news, eh? I suppose she was pleased...."

"Of course she was! She's staying on now, and is going to share my room. She had a qualm just for a moment, as to whether she ought to take the money, but I soon put her mind at ease. 'Take all you can get, my dear,' I said. After all, I dare say if the man's giving her three pounds he could afford to give her about double that amount; men are not particularly generous from what I know of them--except you, Micky...."

Micky got red.

"But three pounds a week is enough to live on? Don't you think it is?"

he asked, with a touch of anxiety in his voice.

"It's enough to live here on," June admitted. "But it's not great wealth. Still, she's going to get a berth as well, so perhaps, after all, the one you've heard of will suit her. What is it?"

Micky was stooping, patting Charlie's head.

"It's in an office," he said, after a moment; his voice sounded a little uncertain. "I don't think it would really suit her, though--now I've seen her," he hastened to add. "It would be too hard work--late hours and all the rest of it, dontcherknow."

June looked at his bent head shrewdly.

"Humph!" she said. "Perhaps it's just as well this phantom lover of Esther's has turned up trumps, if that's all you'd got to offer her."

"Phantom lover!" said Micky; his voice sounded as if he were annoyed.

"Whom are you talking about?"

"Esther's beloved," June said airily. "She won't tell me his name, so I call him the phantom lover, because I've got an eerie sort of feeling in my mind about him that he doesn't really exist. What do you think, Micky?"

"My dear girl, how can I possibly know?"

June produced some cigarettes.

"If he were all that she'd like me to believe he is," she said shrewdly, "she'd tell me more about him. She certainly got a bit more confidential to-day, and said that he had a cat for a mother and a few things like that. She had another letter from him this morning; he's in Paris--on business, so he tells her." She laughed, turning her face for a moment against the mauve cushion. Suddenly she sat upright again, "Micky, I should hate that man if I knew him!"

Micky smiled.

"Another of your 'instinctive hates'?" he asked whimsically.

She nodded.

"I know you don't believe in them, but...."

"Don't I?" said Micky thoughtfully. "I'm not so sure." He looked at his watch. "Well, I must be trotting. There's nothing else I can do for you, I suppose? No more waifs who want billets...?"

"You're laughing at me."

"I'm not--I never laugh at you." He laid his hand on her shoulder for a moment. "Don't bother to get up; you look so comfortable ...

Good-bye----"