But in this he was pleasantly disappointed, for his own letter reached the boarding-house in Elphinstone Road that night, and Esther’s reply was waiting for him with the kidney and bacon in the morning.

Micky’s heart began to thump when he saw the letter beside his plate; he had never seen Esther’s handwriting, but he knew by instinct that it was hers. He scanned the first lines eagerly, and his face fell.

CONTENTS

“Dear Mr. Mellowes,––Thank you for your letter. I am sorry, but I cannot come out with you, either to dinner or to a theatre.––

Dear Mr. Mellowes

Yours very truly, Esther Shepstone.”

Esther Shepstone

Micky’s face was pathetic in its disappointment. He read the few curt lines through again and again, vainly trying to find something more behind the unmistakable refusal, but there it was in all its bald decision.

She did not want to go out with him any more; she did not care if she saw him again or not.

Micky left his breakfast, he no longer had any appetite. He had never had such a snub in all his life––out of his disappointment anger was rising steadily; she had no right to snub him like that without a reason.

Driver, coming into the room at that moment, saw the untouched breakfast and halted midway between door and table to stare at his master.

73

Micky stood with his hands deep thrust into his pockets, glowering into the fire. Driver advanced a step.

“Beg pardon, sir––but wasn’t you well?” he asked stoically.

Micky began to swear, then his mood changed and he laughed.

“Yes, I’m all right–––” He hesitated. “Driver, would you like to go to Paris?”

Driver raised wooden eyes.

“Anywhere you wish, sir,” he answered, in his usual expressionless voice. “When were you thinking of starting, sir?”

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