"And it's all entirely due to me," Micky said when June rang him up the following morning to tell him the news.
"I introduced you! What do I get out of it all I should like to know?"
His voice was playful, but June took him seriously.
"O Micky! if you could only be as happy as I am," she said eagerly.
"If wishes were horses, my dear----" he said sententiously. "But don't worry about me, I'm all right."
"Then, will you come to dinner to-night? No, _not_ at the boarding house! We'll go to the Savoy--just to celebrate! We four!"
There was the smallest possible pause, then Micky said:
"I'm sorry, but I've another engagement. I promised the Delands to go with them 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 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.
"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.
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.