after a moment. "And if you
think you would still like me to share this room----"

June pounced upon her.

"You darling! It's too good to be true. Of course, I should love it!
I'll go and tell old Mother Elders straight away; it will put her in a
good temper for a month."

"She's out," Esther said quickly. "I went to tell her myself as soon
as I got my letter.... It only came this morning." She coloured
sensitively beneath June's quizzical eyes.

"And of course you've been devouring it ever since," June said. "Well,
and very nice too! There's nothing to be ashamed of. I'll admit that I
didn't think somehow that he could be a very nice sort of person, this
young man of yours. No, I don't know why I thought so--just an idea of
mine. I get hold of ideas like that. But I've changed my mind now; I'm
sure he's a dear, or you'd never look so happy."

"I should love you to see him," Esther said with enthusiasm. "I'm sure
you would like him. I don't know his people, of course--I suppose if
they thought he cared for me they'd be angry--but it doesn't really
matter, and I know he doesn't care at all for his mother...."

June looked up from stroking Charlie.

"Now, I wish you hadn't said that," she said frankly. "No man can be
really nice who doesn't love his own mother."

Esther looked distressed.

"But she's horrid!" she said eagerly. "He has told me how horrid she
is to him--really she is--and as he's her only son----" She stopped.
"After all," she went on, "there's no law to make you like a woman
just because you happen to be her son, is there?"

"It's unnatural not to," June answered shortly. "However, as neither
of us know his mother, we'll give him the benefit of the doubt. She
may be a perfect old cat. Some women are."

She wandered round the room to find a cigarette, and Esther sat
looking into the fire.

She could not remember her own mother. But somehow she felt sure that,
had she been living, she would have adored her.

She had never heard Raymond say anything nice of Mrs. Ashton--he had
always spoken about her in a bitter, half sneering way.

She looked across to June timidly.

"Do you always judge people by what you call 'instinct'?" she asked.
"When I first knew you you told me that you felt sure you would like
me before ever you saw me, and----"

"And I was right," June said triumphantly. "I nearly always am right
when I get an instinct about anything. Micky says it's all rot!--there
I am, talk