"

But she kept such thoughts to herself and treated Micky very much the
same as usual, though unconsciously there was a slight restraint in
her manner, especially when Esther was present.

"I'm beginning to think that I've misjudged our Raymond," she went on
laughingly. "Perhaps some one has converted him. Anyway, he's treating
Esther handsomely. First the money, and last week the fur coat...."
Micky looked up with sudden interest.

"Oh, it's come, then, has it!" he said eagerly.

"Come! It's been here two days. How did you know?" she asked with
sudden suspicion.

"I heard you talking about it. Wasn't it you? No? Then it must have
been Miss Shepstone."

"I dare say," said June easily. "I never saw any one so delighted with
a thing as she was with that coat. And it is a beauty, Micky. I only
hope it's paid for," she added practically.

"Why shouldn't it be paid for?" Micky said.

She made a little grimace.

"Because Raymond Ashton never paid for things if he could help it; and
you know he didn't," she told him. "However, as he seems to be a
reformed character, we'll give him the benefit of the doubt." Suddenly
she began to laugh. "And that isn't all," she said again. "This
morning a collar arrived for that blessed cat----" She indicated
Charlie sleeping peacefully on the rug. "A silver collar, too my boy,
with Esther's name on it...."

Micky stooped to examine the collar; his face was red when, after a
moment, he looked up again.

"Esther declares she never told him we'd got a cat," June told him
doubtfully. "But, of course, she must have done so or else the man's
got second sight."

Micky was drinking his tea; he choked suddenly.

A feeling of panic closed upon him. Never told him she'd got a cat!
of course she hadn't! What a fool he had been to make such a
blunder--what an utter blockhead.

"I expect she did tell him," he managed to say.

"Yes, that's what I think." June lit a cigarette and passed the
lighted match over to Micky.

"Anyway, Esther goes about the place singing all day," she added
drily. "There's no doubt at all that she's up in the seventh heaven of
happiness. Reams of letters the man writes her. Perhaps, as the novels
tell us, love is a wonderful thing----" She looked at Micky with a
comical expression in her queer eyes. "I should say it must be if it's
reformed that man," she added cynically.

Micky said nothing. He had been very uncomfortable about things during
the last few d