said.

He obeyed at once. He rested an elbow on the mantelshelf and kept his
eyes fixed on the fire.

There as a little silence, then Esther said, almost in a whisper:

"I want to beg your pardon. I hope you will--will try and forgive
me."

Micky did not move.

She struggled on:

"I've seen ... Mr. Ashton." Somehow she could not bring herself to
speak of him by his Christian name.

"And I know--I know--that I've been--been a fool."

Her voice broke. She gripped the arms of the chair hard to keep
herself from breaking down.

Micky forced himself to speak.

"I'm glad you've seen him--as you wished it," he said jerkily. "But as
hoping I will forgive you, there's nothing to forgive--it's all the
other way on. I behaved like--like a cad--it's for you to forgive
me."

He smiled faintly.

"And now we've both said the right thing I'll go and see about that
train," he said.

But again she stopped him.

"I don't want you to go--I want to talk to you. I want ... oh, I don't
know what I do want!" she finished, with a sob.

"You're tired out," Micky said calmly, though he looked anything but
calm, "and I'm going to bully you and insist that you rest. I'll come
back presently...."

He went away quickly, as if he were afraid of being kept against his
will but outside the door he stood still for a moment with his hand
over his eyes before he pulled himself together and went on.

Esther listened to his departing steps with a sinking at her heart.

What had she hoped for? She hardly knew, but she felt as if she had
made an overture of friendship that had been kindly but decidedly
refused.

Her cheeks burned. It was not what she had expected.

It seemed an eternity till Micky came back again.

"There's a train in half an hour," he told her. "We can get back to
town very comfortably. I've wired to June to meet us. She probably
came up from Enmore yesterday."

June! Esther had almost forgotten June.

"You ought to be getting ready if we are to catch that train," Micky
said. "Would you rather stay till to-morrow? I'm afraid the journey
will tire you dreadfully."

She rose hurriedly.

"No, no--oh no, I'd much rather go!"

* * * * *

Micky had reserved a carriage.

"I think I will go in a smoker," he said. He put some magazines
and a box of chocolates on the seat; he avoided looking at her.
"It's a corridor train so I'll come and see that you are all right
occas