She came in while Esther was dressing. She looked very pleased and alert.
"Business, my child!" she said enthusiastically. "Such a duck of an American! and Micky's introduction! Mr. George P. Rochester!--isn't it a lovely name? He's going to establish me firmly in little old New York, as he calls it, and make my fortune. I'm going out to lunch with him at one o'clock, and you're coming too!--Oh, yes you _are_!" as Esther shook her head. "I've told him all about you already." Esther laughed.
"You must have got on very fast," she said. "And anyway I'm not going to play odd-man-out."
"I telephoned Micky and asked him to come and make a fourth," she admitted.
"No, he isn't," she said with overdone indifference. "He said he'd got an engagement already, but between you and me and the doorpost," she added darkly, "I don't believe it! I think he just didn't _want_ to come."
"Oh," said Esther faintly. "I expect he has a good many engagements," she added after a moment.
June said "Humph!" She recalled the curt manner of Micky's refusal, and wondered if there had been a more serious rupture between himself and Esther than she was ever likely to hear about.
"So we shall have to make up our minds to enjoy ourselves without his distinguished company," she said airly. "I dare say we shall be able to manage quite nicely. Esther, aren't you going to wear your fur coat?"
"My fur coat!" said Esther rather unsteadily. "It's not mine."
She was taking from the wardrobe the shabby jacket she had worn the first night she met Micky; it looked more shabby and unsmart than ever, but she was going to wear it whatever happened.
She was smarting with humiliation. She had offered Micky her little olive branch when they parted two days ago at Charing Cross, and this is how he had accepted it!
"If he's trying to pay me out, I suppose it's only what I deserve," she thought miserably, and yet it did not seem like Micky to deliberately try or wish to hurt or humiliate any one.
She did her best to push the shadow aside. She tried to laugh and talk with June as they went off to meet Mr. George P. Rochester.
He was a big, bluff man, with a hand-clasp like the grip of a bear, and a twang that could be cut with a knife.