she waved him away.

He stood there on the kerb till the taxi had whirled out of sight, and
once again he asked himself desperately if it were all worth while, if
he were not throwing away the real thing for a chimera.

There was probably a no more unhappy man in London at that moment than
Micky Mellowes.

CHAPTER XVII

Esther had spent a week indoors with a cold, and it was the longest
she could ever remember. June was kindness itself, and fussed and
petted and made much of her, but the days dragged.

There was only one thing to live for--the post! And though the rat-tat
rang through the house three or four times a day, there was never
anything for Esther.

Her own letter to Paris remained unanswered. The telegram for which
she longed never came.

June watched her with a mixture of sympathy and impatience.

What was the good of putting all one's eggs in the same basket? she
asked herself crossly. What was the good of falling in love if nothing
better than unhappiness ever came of it? She began to hate the phantom
lover, as she called him, with increased hatred.

"I don't think you're strong enough to go yet, you know," she said to
Esther one afternoon when they were sitting together in the firelight.
"Write and tell Mrs. Ashton you can't come for another week, or that
you can't go at all. I do wish you would."

Esther shook her head.

"I promised to go, and I must do something. I shall be all right by
Monday. Mrs. Ashton has waited long enough as it is."

She looked pale and ill, June thought angrily, and put it all down to
"that man."

"Has Mr. Mellowes come back from Paris yet?" Esther asked suddenly.
June was faintly amazed; Esther never spoke of Micky. She answered
rather dubiously that she did not know.

"I expect he's having such a good time that he'll stay for weeks," she
added. "I wish he would come back, I want him to get on with my
business...."

"Mr. Mellowes...." announced Lydia at the door.

June scrambled to her feet with a scream of delight.

"Micky! you villain! we were just talking about you. When did you come
back? Why haven't you been before? What have you been doing?"

She dragged him over to the fire; she fussed over him and told him he
was just in time for tea.

"Esther's been indoors a week with a cold," she explained. "No, don't
you get up, Esther. Micky won't mind...." She pushed Esther back
amongst the sofa pillows. "Poor darling! She's really been quite ill,"