In spite of her promise to Esther, it was past tea-time when she got back home; she threw her hat and coat down anywhere and poked up the fire.
“Haven’t you had tea? What have you been doing all day?” she demanded crisply. “You haven’t had tea!––Good gracious, I’ll make some at once; I had some with George, but I’m quite ready for some more. My word! what a difference a man can make in one’s life,” she said, suddenly grave. “And to think that I ever talked piffle about not wanting to get married.”
She bustled round the room singing blithely; she was brimful of happiness. “You needn’t be surprised to hear that I’m going to be married quite soon,” she said with elaborate carelessness. “Lord! won’t people have forty fits? Except for Micky, my crowd don’t know I’m engaged yet. I’m going to take George home to see them on Sunday. I’ve discovered that he’s fourth cousin, about ninety times removed, to a baronet, so, perhaps, that will put them all in a good temper with him. My people do love titles! Give them a lord, or something, and it doesn’t matter what else he is, or isn’t.... You’re not listening, Esther.”
“I am. I heard every word you said.”
Esther was sitting by the fire with Charlie curled up in her lap; her face looked very sad and thoughtful. So she was to lose June quite soon!––her lips trembled; what was there left for her in all the world? It almost seemed as if time had stood still for a moment, and then suddenly rushed her back again with breathless speed, to leave her bereft of hope and happiness, as she had been before she met Micky.
Charlie had been her only friend then. Was he all that was to remain to her now?
June watched her across the room.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked suddenly; but Esther only shook her head.