them for me! Lydia’s a treasure! You’ll love her. When I get married she’s going to leave here and come with me–––”

Esther looked interested.

“Are you going to be married?” she asked.

Miss Mason laughed.

“Am I? No, I’m not. I’m too fond of my independence. Not that I don’t like men. I do like them, and I’ve got some awfully good pals amongst them, too. Look!”

She turned with one of her rapid movements, caught up a photograph from the shelf and handed it to Esther.

“There! that’s one of the nicest men I ever met in my life,” she said enthusiastically. “Don’t you think he’s got a ripping face?”

Esther took the portrait laughingly––she thought June Mason one of the most amusing people she had ever met––then she caught her breath on a little smothered exclamation as she found herself looking straight into the pictured eyes of Micky Mellowes.

June Mason was too occupied with a fresh cigarette to notice the blank look that filled Esther’s eyes.

She sat there in the big chair, staring at Micky’s portrait with a sense of foreboding. Surely it was something 47 bigger than just chance that had introduced him into her life for the second time.

47

“He’s one of the best,” June Mason went on. She dragged forward another chair and plumped down into it comfortably.

“Don’t you admire him?” She opened her eyes wide, looking across at Esther.

“Yes, oh yes! I think he’s quite nice,” Esther said stiltedly. “But not a bit good-looking, do you think?” she asked, with a sort of hesitation.

Miss Mason took the portrait from her and held it at arm’s length.

“Um!” she said critically. “Perhaps he isn’t, but I like him so much, you see, that I’m not a fair judge. He’s been a good friend to me, at all events.”

She got up, replaced the frame on the shelf, and plumped back once more amongst her mauve cushions.

“My people wanted me to marry him at one 

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