All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 166: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

1 Ajigdu ‘ a5 A u i : } J a i f an At) 4 t (yea ‘st CIR at! as UN Neve 1Ad ‘ - ay y . ee tte Ge RD ry ee TTS ri } iW hh i a Every day at the Brundage farm began this way; it always put her in fine humor to _ know that of all the guests she was the only one who enjoyed the privilege of a private bath. After dressing, she decided to go for a walk; there was a considerable interval be- fore breakfast would be ready. She searched for her light sweater and could not find it, which puzzled her for a moment, because she always kept it thrown across the back of a particular chair. And then, with an exclamation, she re- membered—the sweater was in the Grouch’s cabin. She had worn it last night and left it there. ‘“ How careless and how provoking!” she said aloud. It was not the absence of the sweater that annoyed her. She did not really need it for comfort; if she did, there was ah extra one. It was the fact that the sweater was on the premises of the Grouch, where he could not fail to find it as soon as he stirred about. She recalled exactly where she left it, hanging on a peg in the door. Of course, she realized that the sweater might accom- plish what the delirium of the Grouch seemed to forbid; it would greet his eyes as a symbol that there had: been another in the cabin beside Mame Brundage. But - Miss Dean did not care to have things in that wise. ‘““He would misinterpret it,” she said, shaking her head. “ It would never do. He would think I had left it deliberately; he’s. that kind of a man. “ He’d think it was a bid for gratitude, or an invitation to pursuit, or perhaps the be- ginning of a pursuit itseli—no matter which he thought, it would be humiliating. I must get it away from there—quickly.” She glanced at her watch. _ “ He’ll hardly be awake,” she observed. “Particularly if Mame gave him two more tablets. Probably I’ll find her there, any- - how. I'll go up to the cabin.” She set out with a briskness that was characteristic of her when she had a mis- sion to perform, and which contrasted so strangely with her languid hours, when she seemed to have no purpose in life save in- _ dolence. difficult to please, and perhaps with a mea- sure of truth. At first she was annoyed because the Grouch would probably remain in ignorance of her night vigil; now she was alarmed for fear that he might discover it. But it must be remembered that, what- ever else she was, she was first and fore- most a woman. She was drawing near to the cabin when she saw the door open and out stepped Mame Brundage, moving with gentle cau- tion. Carefully closing the door behind her, Mame advanced, with a warning finger held against her lips. Miss Dean halted and waited. As Mame neared her, she gave a sigh of satisfaction. ““T see you’ve got my sweater,” she said. “Thank you. It’s just what’ I was coming to get.” Mame handed over the sweater and glanced at Miss Dean with cold eyes. “Yes. I thought you’d be after it,” she said significantly. “T forgot it last night.” ‘So it seems. Kind of funny you for- got it, isn’t it? Didn’t you feel cold goin’ home?” “T never thought anything about it un- til ten minutes ago,” said Miss Dean, with a smile, as she slipped the sweater on. ‘What makes you look so queer—Mari- gold?” Mame straightened herself haughtily. “T ain’t aware I look queer,” she said. ‘“‘ And I don’t do queer things, either. Any- ways, I don’t go leavin’ my garments around in gentlemen’s rooms, so I’ll have to come back and get ’em.” Miss Dean laughed. ‘No, ma’am; I never did that i in all my life. You needn’t have worried about the sweater; I was goin’ to bring it to you. “And if you feel so cold this mornin’, seems to me there’s another one down at — the cottage. Seems to me I remember it.” ‘““ My dear Marigold,” said Miss Dean, still laughing, “‘ you have the intuition of a witch. I’m becoming afraid of you.” “JT don’t know what you mean,” said Mame, stiffly. ‘“ And if you keep laughin’ so loud you’ll wake him up.” “ Asleep, is he?” Se ee ee a <= Sa ae It may be charged that Miss Dean was