The Phantom Lover Part 23

"Good-bye--and, Micky, don't make up your mind not to like Esther just because of this afternoon."

"My dear, I never thought of such a thing," he protested lamely.

June snuggled more cosily into the cushions.

"Ah, but I know what you are," she said, for once hopelessly on the wrong track.

Micky laughed to himself as he went down the stairs; he wondered if he was getting clever, or if June was not so quick to see a thing as he had believed, that she had not noticed the constraint between himself and Esther.

He looked about him eagerly as he went out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Esther, but the house seemed deserted, quite different from what he had pictured it to be. He had always thought that a London boarding-house must be noisy and crowded and perpetually smelling of soap and cabbage water; he was relieved to find that this was fairly comfortable and quiet.

He picked up a taxicab at the corner of the road and was driven back to his flat. He felt very depressed. Everybody seemed to have interests in life except himself. He wished he had got married years ago and settled down. He thought of Marie Deland with remorseful affection. Here was another woman who must be thinking him a positive outsider. How in the world did a man put an end to a flirtation that was growing rapidly into something else without hurting a woman's feelings, he wondered.

Ashton had accomplished it quite successfully several times. Micky sighed, and let himself into his flat.

There were several letters lying on the table; he flicked them through disinterestedly; then he stopped--the last one was from Ashton.

Micky stood for quite a minute staring down at the handwriting, which he had been at such pains to copy. Then he ripped open the envelope.

Ashton wrote from Paris:--

"DEAR MICKEY,--Just a line to send you my address, as promised.

Hope things are going well with you. I am staying on here for the present, as I have run up against Maisie Clare--you remember her, Tubby Clare's little widow? My son, she's got pots of money, and at the present moment things are looking promising! The mater would be pleased if I could manage to pull it off. By the way, I dare say Driver told you I met him the other day--he was very mysterious and hadn't a word to say! Surely he wasn't joy-riding over here by himself? Remember me to every one.--Yours, R. F.

ASHTON."

And not one word about Esther! Not a single mention of the girl who was thinking of him night and day, and only living to see him again.

Micky crushed the letter and tossed it into the fire. That settled it, he told himself; he no longer had the slightest compunction in cutting Ashton out; the fellow was not worth a moment's consideration.

CHAPTER IX

Esther trudged to and fro from the agency where the stiff and stately lady presided so many times during the next few days that she began to hate the sight of the tall building and the dark stairs covered with worn linoleum.

Every day the waiting-room seemed crowded with girls, many of whom were a great deal more shabby and hopeless looking than she was, and they all sat patiently on the wooden chairs and eyed one another with a sort of jealous suspicion till their turn came to pa.s.s within the magic portal which guarded the stiff and stately lady from the vulgar gaze.

"I told you an agency wouldn't be any good," June Mason said when Esther came home after another fruitless journey. "They take your money and forget you till you turn up to remind them that you're still in existence. Give it up, my dear, and come into partnership with me.

I should love to take you round to all the big stores and tell them that you owe your milk and rose complexion to my famous cream." She burst out laughing. "Can't you imagine it! Esther, you and I ought to tour the country in a caravan or something. Call ourselves the new Sequah." She rolled over in the big chair and hid her face in the cushions.

Esther laughed; she felt quite at home now in June's room. There were a few of her own possessions lying about, and she had bought Charlie a new cushion of his own. It gave her a sense of independence to know that she was paying her share of everything.

"I shall get something if I wait long enough," Esther said presently.

"Do you know, I rather think I should like to be a companion, after all. I told Mr.----" She stopped; she had been about to add that she had once told Micky how she would hate it.

"It might not be so bad," June admitted; "but you want some one with pots of money and a good temper."

She looked at Esther consideringly.

"There wouldn't have to be any eligible sons either," she said bluntly. "You're much too pretty----"

Esther laughed.

"What nonsense!"

June dragged Esther to her feet and made her look in the gla.s.s.

"Now dare to call it nonsense--look at yourself," she commanded.

But Esther only looked at June.

"Next to you," she began, but June cut her short.

"If you're going to try blatant flattery," she said.

They both laughed at that.

Some one tapped at the door; Lydia, the smiling housemaid, appeared; she looked at the two girls with a sort of parental expression; she was very fond of them both, and never minded how late or how hard she worked to do little extra jobs for either of them. It was her greatest pride to stay in when her "evening out" came and help June label the little mauve pots; she recommended the famous cream to all her friends; she was as proud of it as if it were her own invention.

She carried a note on a tray now, which she handed to Esther.

"I found it on the hall table, Miss," she said. "It must have been left by messenger."

She waited a moment to make up the fire and tidy the hearth; she was always glad of an excuse to stay in the room; she was never tired of telling her friends what a pretty room it was--she loved the mauve cushions and the many photographs.

She went away with a reluctant backward look. June yawned.

"Another love-letter?" she asked chaffingly. She looked across at Esther, and was surprised to see the embarra.s.sment in the girl's face.

"It's from Mr. Harley," she said, in distress. "Oh, I'm sure I've never let him think I----" She handed the letter to June. "He wants me to go to a theatre with him," she added in confusion.

"Well, I should go," said June promptly. "You don't get much fun, and the man knows you're engaged, and if he likes to chance it----"

"But how does he know I'm engaged? I've never told him."

"I did," June said calmly. "I saw the way the wind was blowing and told him to save complications." She made a little grimace at Esther.

"And after this note are you still going to declare that he isn't more than ordinarily interested? Esther, you're the most unsuspecting baby---- Say you'll go, of course. There's no harm in it."

"I certainly shall not go," Esther said; "I don't want to, for one thing, and, for another, it would not be fair----"

"You mean to Mr. Harley?" June asked.

"Yes, and to----"

"To the phantom lover! Oh, I see!" said June drily.

Esther coloured.