've got anything to suggest----"

"I thought out crowds of plans coming along in the cab, but they're
all rotten," Micky admitted dolefully. "I thought you'd be able to
help me. Can't you be called off to a relative in the country or
something, and ask Miss Shepstone to go with you?"

June started up.

"Of course I can. I've got an aunt down at Enmore. She's always asking
me to go and see her. I'll send her a wire. It's too late to-night,
but in the morning...."

Micky felt in his pocket for a pencil.

"Give me the address and I'll send it first thing." He paused.
"Supposing Miss Shepstone won't go, though?"

"Oh, she'll go," said June quickly. "I'll tell her it means business
for me. I'll do the pathetic. I wonder what time there's a train."

"I'll look up all the trains, and arrange everything. Does Miss
Shepstone know I'm here now?"

"No----"

"Very well, tell her one of your business agents called, and that
you've got to go off early to-morrow. You can write me a note and post
it to-night, asking me to see you off. It's quite a usual thing for
you to do, you know----"

June smiled rather sadly.

"Poor old Micky!" she said.

Micky frowned.

"Don't talk rubbish," he said rather shortly. "I'd do the same for any
one."

June knew it would be useless to contradict.

"If you can keep her out of town for a week it may all have blown
over," he went on. "I'll run down and see you if I may----"

"You know you may; but, Micky--don't you think all this is rather
mistaken kindness? She'll have to know sooner or later; why not tell
her at once? When the letters stop coming she'll begin to worry, and
then----"

Micky shook his head obstinately.

"I've my own reasons; be a pal and help me, June."

"Very well, old boy."

She gave him her hand.

"I think you're making a mistake, but I suppose you know your own
business best. At any rate, I've warned you."

"You're a dear," said Micky gratefully.

June went to the front door with him; in spite of her promise she was
not feeling happy. Esther would have to know. She went slowly back up
the stairs.

"It's a mistake," she told herself again, with a sense of foreboding.
"Micky's making a mistake."

But she determined to act up to her part. She ran up the last flight
of stairs with a great noise and show of excitement. She burst into
their sitting-room breathless.

"Such news, Esther! Are you game for a dash down into the wilds of
nowhere? I've got to