cut out for a bachelor, and rubbish like that, but you wait and see,
Micky--it's never too late."

"I've never written a love-letter in my life," Micky declared
indignantly. "And, anyway----"

June leaned across the table and looked at him with accusing eyes.

"Never? On your word of honour, Micky?"

Micky laughed and coloured.

"Well, perhaps--once!" he admitted. "But that's beside the point,
isn't it?... I'll think things over and write to you."

"Yes, but soon, Micky, soon! It's not a case where you can sit down
with your feet on the mantelpiece and give yourself a week to turn
things over in your mind. I want to know at once, to-morrow--to-night,
if possible. I know what Esther is--she'll be gone before I can turn
round, and I should hate her to go. I haven't got many friends, and I
do feel that she and I are going to be real friends--great friends ...
I don't know when I've taken such a fancy to anybody----"

"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that," said Micky. His
eyes were shining. Then he realised that he had displayed rather
unnecessary warmth and hastened to amend his words. "I always said
that what you wanted was a real woman friend," he added more quietly.

June was drawing on her gloves; she had very white hands and
beautifully-kept finger-nails, and she was very proud of them.

"Never mind me," she said briskly. "You bustle about and find a post
for Esther, and I'll love you for ever. Are we ready?"

She rose and gathered up her various belongings. Micky declared that
she was always laden with small, oddly-shaped parcels.

"Samples, my dear man, samples!" she said briskly when Micky asked if
he might not be allowed to carry some. "And they're much too precious
to risk you dropping any."

"There's just one stipulation," Micky said as he followed her
downstairs again. "You're not to tell Miss Shepstone anything about
me--I'm going to be very strict on this subject. Will you promise?"

"Bless your heart, yes--and if you come to tea one day----"

"Oh, I don't think I'll come to tea," Micky said hastily. "I should
only feel rotten--self-conscious and all the rest of it, even if I was
quite sure she didn't know anything--not that there's anything to know
yet," he added quickly. "I may not be able to help her."

Miss Mason laughed.

"Oh, you'll help her right enough," she said breezily. "I know you."

She dismissed him when they reached the street. "No, I don't want you
to come wi