Micky stood for quite a minute staring down at the handwriting, which he had been at such pains to copy. Then he ripped open the envelope. Ashton wrote from Paris:-- "DEAR MICKEY,--Just a line to send you my address, as promised. Hope things are going well with you. I am staying on here for the present, as I have run up against Maisie Clare--you remember her, Tubby Clare's little widow? My son, she's got pots of money, and at the present moment things are looking promising! The mater would be pleased if I could manage to pull it off. By the way, I dare say Driver told you I met him the other day--he was very mysterious and hadn't a word to say! Surely he wasn't joy-riding over here by himself? Remember me to every one.--Yours, R. F. ASHTON." And not one word about Esther! Not a single mention of the girl who was thinking of him night and day, and only living to see him again. Micky crushed the letter and tossed it into the fire. That settled it, he told himself; he no longer had the slightest compunction in cutting Ashton out; the fellow was not worth a moment's consideration. CHAPTER IX Esther trudged to and fro from the agency where the stiff and stately lady presided so many times during the next few days that she began to hate the sight of the tall building and the dark stairs covered with worn linoleum. Every day the waiting-room seemed crowded with girls, many of whom were a great deal more shabby and hopeless looking than she was, and they all sat patiently on the wooden chairs and eyed one another with a sort of jealous suspicion till their turn came to pass within the magic portal which guarded the stiff and stately lady from the vulgar gaze. "I told you an agency wouldn't be any good," June Mason said when Esther came home after another fruitless journey. "They take your money and forget you till you turn up to remind them that you're still in existence. Give it up, my dear, and come into partnership with me. I should love to take you round to all the big stores and tell them that you owe your milk and rose complexion to my famous cream." She burst out laughing. "Can't you imagine it! Esther, you and I ought to tour the country in a caravan or something. Call ourselves the new Sequah." She rolled over in the big chair and hid her face in the cushions. Esther laughed; she felt quite at home now in June's room. There were a few of her own possessions lying about, and she had bought Charlie a new cushion of his own. It gave her a sense of independence to know that she was paying her share of everything. "I shall get something if I wait long enough," Esther said presently. "Do you know, I rather think I should like to be a companion, after all. I told Mr.----" She stopped; she had been about to add that she had once told Micky how she would hate it. "It might not be so bad," June admitted; "but you want some one with pots of money and a good temper." She looked at Esther consideringly.