would happen to bring it to an end.

"If some one doesn't talk," June said drowsily, "I shall go to
sleep."

There was a quiet peacefulness in the cosy little room. Micky crossed
his arms on the chair back and leaned his chin on them, staring into
the fire, and Esther, from her place in the shadows, looked at him
unobserved.

Not in the least good-looking, she told herself again, and yet in
common fairness she had to admit to herself that there was something
about Micky Mellowes that was undeniably attractive.

She liked the obstinacy of his chin--she liked the way his hair grew,
and the shape of his hands--strong, manly hands they were, in spite of
the fact that they had probably never done a day's useful work in
their lives. Of course he was too well dressed. To begin with, there
was no need to wear grey spats over his shoes, or to have his trousers
so immaculately creased. She forgot that she had liked Ashton to
indulge in both these weaknesses.

Micky was whistling a snatch of a love-song under his breath. Esther
did not know what it was; she had never heard the melody before, but
something in the softly sentimental notes brought the tears to her
eyes; before she was aware of it they were tumbling down fast.

June sprang suddenly to her feet.

"Why are we all mooning like this? Micky, give me a match." She almost
snatched the box from him and lit the gas; the yellow flare flooded
the room. Micky, glancing at Esther, saw the tears on her cheeks and
the way she averted her head.

He scowled and rose to his feet, standing so that his tall figure
shielded her.

"Well, I must be getting along," he said. He pulled out his watch and
looked at it, but he never noticed what the time was.

He was thinking of Esther and the tears he had surprised.

"And when are you going to introduce me to this man who is to make my
fortune?" June demanded crisply. She was standing on a footstool,
trying to see herself in a glass above the mantelshelf.

"Esther, you might have told me what a sight I look! My hair is all
over the place."

"I thought it looked nice," Esther said hurriedly. She knew Micky had
seen her tears, and was silently hating him for it.

Micky answered hesitatingly, "I'll let you know--I'll fix it up and
let you know. There's no hurry, is there? I don't want him to think we
are too keen."

"But I am keen," June insisted. "Wouldn't you be keen if some one had
told you you would be a gold mine, properly