All-Story Weekly, Vol. 112, No. 1 — page 127: what you’re looking at

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GOOD REFERENCES. ¥ “ Well, if they are, it’s not because of anything you’ve done, William Marshall.” Aunt Caroline’s eyes were beginning to blaze. ‘‘ You’ve done your best to disgrace the girl. Oh, that poor child! I don’t ap- prove of her taking off her skirt, under- stand me; I never could bring myself to that. I never did it myself, when I was a young woman, and I wouldn’t do it now. But that doesn’t excuse’ you. It simply makes it worse that you should have gone away and left her. You did quarrel with her, of course; I can understand, now. You let that childish temper of yours gov- ern you. Oh, that I should ever have had such a nephew! I’m ashamed of you!” Bill felt that he was on the verge of dis- inheritance, but Aunt Caroline abruptly changed her line of thought. “Thank goodness she’s in charge of a responsible person!” she exclaimed. ‘““‘Whor My valet?” “ Certainly. If it were not for that I should be dreadfully frightened. But he’ll take care of her, of course. He’s just the kind of voung man she ought to be with in such an awful predicament. If she were my own daughter I wouldn’t ask anything better, under the circumstances.” Bill sneered elaborately. ‘‘ He’s so absolutely safe,”’ declared Aunt Caroline. ‘‘ He has such fine, high prin- ciples.” ‘““Oh, bunk, Aunt Caroline.” “William, don’t you try to disparage that young man. I only wish you had his pure ideals. That’s what makes me feel safe about Miss Norcross. He’s so sound, and religious, and upright. Why, his very character is sufficient to save the girl’s rep- utation.” Bill was growing restive under the pane- gyric. | ‘Her reputation doesn’t need any sav- ing,” he declared. “Not with you or me; no. That’s per- fectly understood. But with the world— that is different. The world will never un- derstand. That is, it would not under- stand if her companion were anybody but Peter. But when it is known that it was he who guarded her and watched over her—”’ 117 “ Aunt Caroline, lay off!” She stopped in sheer amazement and stared at her nephew. Bill was in a mood to throw caution to the winds. “Tl agree with you she’s safe enough,” he said, ‘‘ but for the love of Mike cut out that bull about Pete. He hasn’t got any more principles than I have. I’m sick and tired of hearing you singing psalms about him.” Aunt Caroline gasped. ‘“Why, confound him, he hasn’t any more religion than a fish. He never studied theology in his life.” “William, I don’t believe a word you “You might as well,” said Bill scorn- fully. ‘Why, Aunt Caroline, he doesn’t know any more about theology than you do about dancing the shimmy.” “ But he talked to Bishop Wrangell—” ‘Oh, he talked, all right. He’s a bird at that. But it was just words, I tell you, words. He got it all out of the encyclo- pedia home. He’s been stringing you— you and the bishop. That’s just where he lives—stringing people.” “ [—don’t—believe—it!”” But there was a trace of alarm in Aunt Caroline’s voice, despite her brave insistence. “Oh, all right; don’t. But if you’d ever known that wild aborigine in college you wouldn’t swallow that theology stuff, hook, line and sinker.”’ “It simply cannot be true, William Marshall.” Bill laughed recklessly. “Why, if you'd ever Stearns—”’ “Peter who?” ‘« Stearns.” Aunt Caroline was sniffing, as though she scented danger. “* What Stearns?” she demanded. ‘Oh, you know ’em, all right, Aunt Caro- line.” She seized Bill by the arm and backed him against the rail. “Of the Eliphalet Stearns family?” she demanded. ‘‘ That’s the bunch,” affirmed Bill, wick- edly. She put her hand to her throat and re- seen Pete cCoOmiclbooks C©