em to the Hoopers' dance."

June said "_Hang_ the Delands," and rang off in a huff.

Micky hung up the receiver and turned away. He was sorry to disappoint
June, and yet he had no smallest intention of meeting Esther. If she
had wanted him she would have sent a note or a message--but she did
not want him! More than once she had said that she hated him--it was
time to learn that she meant what she said. Micky's pride had got the
upper hand at last, and he would rather have died now than make the
smallest overture to the girl at whose feet he had once been willing
to grovel.

Driver came to the door:

"A parcel, sir. Shall I bring it in?"

Micky answered absently:

"All right."

Driver went out of the room. After a moment he came back with a square
box which he set down on the table.

"Shall I open it, sir?" he asked, as Micky did not speak.

Micky started.

"Yes; oh, yes--open it. What the dickens is it? I haven't ordered
anything."

Driver said that he did not know--that it had been left by a
messenger. He untied the knotted string with neat precision, and
rolled it into a ball before he removed the paper.

Micky walked up to the table and lifted the lid with faint curiosity.

"A fur coat," he said blankly. "A fur----" He stopped. For a moment he
stood staring down into the box, then he let the lid fall over it
again.

"All right--you can go," he said.

Driver walked to the door stoically, and Micky went back to the fire.

So she would not even keep the fur coat! She cared so little for him
that she must needs send back his paltry gifts. What a fool he was to
care--what a fool!

Driver, coming back for a moment, stopped petrified in the doorway.
Micky was standing by the mantelpiece with his face buried in his
arms.

CHAPTER XXXV

It was late that night when Micky turned up at the Delands'. He had
taken extravagant pains with his toilet, lingering over it as long as
possible. Ever since the arrival of that parcel from Esther, he had
been trying to make up his mind to take the irrevocable step, and ask
Marie Deland to be his wife. He was miserably sure that she would
accept him, miserably sure that he was already forgiven for the past.

He kept on persuading himself that it was the one and only thing left
to him to do. He tried to believe that once the affair was settled, he
would find some sort of happiness. After all, what did it matter whom
he married if it could not be Esther?

H