He felt ridiculously nervous when he reached Mrs. Ashton's house. For the first time it occurred to him that possibly Esther would be here too. He was kept waiting some minutes in the drawing room--minutes during which he wandered restlessly about staring at the pictures and the photographs. There were many portraits of Raymond--Raymond at all stages of his chequered career, smiling and handsome. Micky turned his back on them with a feeling of disgust. The door opened behind him, and, turning sharply, he found himself face to face with Mrs. Ashton. She came forward with outstretched hand. "This is kind of you, Mr. Mellowes. I did not know you had been away till I got your note this morning. I was wondering why I had had no reply to mine." Micky blurted out that he had been in Paris--that he only came back yesterday evening. Mrs. Ashton's face changed a little. "Paris! Have you been with that son of mine?" she asked sharply. Micky coloured. "I met him--quite by chance, though. We were not together more than a few minutes." She smiled rather ironically. "Have you got tired of him at last, then?" she asked. She moved over to the fire. She looked back at Micky quizzically. "I have often wondered how you put up with his friendship so long, Mr. Mellowes," she added rather sadly. Micky felt embarrassed. He had always liked Mrs. Ashton. He stammered out that he and Raymond had always been very good friends. She drew her chair a little closer to the fire. "Very well--then, perhaps, you will be kind enough to answer a question I am going to ask you. Mr. Mellowes, what was the name of that girl at Eldred's whom Raymond was always about with before Christmas?" The question was so unexpected that Micky was utterly taken aback. Before he was aware of it he had told a lie. "I don't know--at least, he always spoke of her as 'Lallie.' I never once saw him with her, Mrs. Ashton--he never introduced me to her." She looked rather incredulous. "And yet you were such friends," she said. Micky coloured. "Our tastes were not always identical," he said rather stiffly. "I am not very interested in women, and he----" "And he is," she finished for him. "There is no need to tell me that--I know my son. So you cannot tell me the name of this girl? I had hoped that you would be able to do so." Micky met her eyes unflinchingly. "I dare say I could find out," he said. "If she is still at Eldred's."