“No, sir; the mistress and the young ladies are all out, sir....”
“Oh!” There was a little silence; then Micky turned on his heel. “Well, good-night!” he said jerkily.
He walked away, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed. A few yards down the road he almost cannoned into a man he knew.
“Hullo, Philips! Where are you off to?”
Philips stopped.
“Hullo, Micky! Not coming my way? I’m going to the Delands. What’s up with you? Haven’t seen you for a week or more.”
“I’ve been seedy,” Micky said hurriedly. “And the Delands are out. I’ve just called there myself.”
“Eh?” Philips tried hard to see his face through the darkness. “Rot,” he said at last. “They’ve got a musical evening on––I had a special invite.”
Micky said nothing. This was a nasty blow; apparently the Delands were only “not at home” to him. Jove! he must have behaved caddishly. He walked on feeling very subdued. Had he quite lost his wits, he wondered, that for the sake of a girl who would have none of him he was willing to offend all his old friends? He tried to look at his behaviour from Marie Deland’s point of view. Yes, it must look pretty rotten, he was forced to admit.