The Phantom Lover Part 39

Presently she walked to Esther, and, stooping, kissed her.

"I'm awfully glad I know," she said. "It makes our friendship seem so much more real."

Esther smiled faintly.

But June was ill at ease. She felt instinctively that things were not all right.

"It isn't the man himself," she told herself obstinately. "It's some foolish, mistaken ideal of him that she has created."

She wondered what he really was doing in Paris. Micky would know--he and Micky had been such great friends. There would be no harm in speaking of him to Micky, at least that would not be betraying any secret or confidence.

She rang Micky up the following morning. She made the excuse that she wanted to see him on business. She took him to lunch at her club.

"You don't look well," was her greeting. "What's the matter, Micky?"

Micky frowned. If there was one thing he hated it was for any one to remark on his appearance. He answered brusquely that he had never been better in his life.

"By the way, I was going to write when you rang up," he said. "I've got some tickets for a first night to-morrow. Would you care to come along and--and bring Miss Shepstone?"

June beamed. She liked going out with Micky.

"I should love it," she said with enthusiasm. "I can't answer for Esther, though."

"Try to persuade her," he urged carelessly. "I don't suppose she's been about much; it would do her good."

"She told me she loves theatres," June admitted; "but the trouble will probably be that she hasn't got a dress."

"A dress?" Micky echoed vaguely. "Can't you lend her one of yours?"

June laughed.

"My dear boy, she's much taller than me and slimmer. ... However, I'll see what can be done. Where shall we meet you?"

"I'll call for you at seven. We'll have some grub first."

"Good! And if Esther won't come?"

"Oh, well, if she won't, you come along, of course; but try and persuade her."

"She's refused Mrs. Ashton's offer, you know," June said presently.

She kept her eyes lowered; she felt self-conscious and guilty.

"Has she?" Micky did not sound particularly interested.

"Yes; the phantom lover objected, or something, and I think it's just as well."

"She said something about it when I had tea with you the other day."

June nodded.

"So she did. I dare say that wretched Raymond would have tried to make love to her if she had gone," she added deliberately.

"He's away just now," Micky said quickly. "I ran across him when I was over in Paris last week."

June looked up quickly.

"Did you? What's he doing there?"

"Nothing particular; he often goes over, you know."

"I can't stand that man," June said, after a moment.

"No?" Micky's voice was casual.

"I never could see why you were so thick with him," she went on.

Micky laughed lazily.

"Perhaps because I haven't your gift of second sight, my dear," he said.

"I shouldn't have thought it would need second sight to see what he is," June declared.

She looked across at Micky and was surprised by the hard expression of his face. "I hate men who flirt," she added. "Micky, do you know that I've got a kind of feeling about Esther's phantom lover that he doesn't really exist?"

Micky sat up with sudden attention.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I mean that he isn't really a tangible man," she explained haltingly.

Micky laughed.

"Oh yes, he is," he said.

June caught her breath.

"You don't mean--oh, do you mean that you know him?" she asked excitedly.

Micky met her eyes with a faintly ironical smile in his own.

"Yes, I know him," he answered hardily. "And so do you. My dear, I may be very green, but your careful questioning wouldn't deceive a mouse."

"Micky!" said June indignantly. She flushed all over her face, and her queer eyes blazed angrily. She really felt that she had a done a dreadful thing in having allowed him to guess.

"You needn't look so upset," Micky said. "You've not told me anything; I knew it long before you did."