Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

$60 “Good morning, Myra,” said Mallory. He seemed somehow younger and more vibrantly buoyant to-day and his eyes had an odd brightness in them, like a boy’s when he has @ secret he means to tell— some time. “Good morning, Mr. Mallory.” Myra felt that her voice shook a little but she couldn’t help it. “"Fhe dear little farm is very lovely, this morning.” Mallory paused. It seemed a long time before he spoke again. Then he said shyly, ‘‘I—I hope you'll forgive me, but I—I have bought the mortgage from Purdy.” Myra swayed a little, dazed by the sud- den readjustment of ideas made necessary by this news and Mallory hurried on. He seemed to be embarrassed. “T—I wanted it for—that is—to—to give to—my wife!” He was not prepared for the reaction that followed this devastating announcement. If he had struck Myra a physical blow she could not have turned whiter nor looked more terrified. But all she said, in a scared, tremulous, little whisper was ‘“ It—it isn’t —true!”’ She wondered what made him laugh— how he had the heart to do so when her U ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. heart hurt so horribly. But he seemed strangely elated and, nodding his head. in a joyous, care-free way, imsisted: “Tt is true, though!” Then he went on very seriously, “of course you may keep the place all to yourself for the full six months, if you want to. But—I hoped you’d—marry me—right away!” For some seconds there was no seund but the purling of the little brook over its pebbly bottom, but after a while Myra managed to get her breath and stammered, “ You—you want—me?” ‘“* Exactly!” Again she hesitated. ‘But, why? You —there are so many wonderful girls—in your work—” She could not quite let herself credit this Arabian Nights dream, though it seemed, so vivid, so like a reality. “You are different from every other eirl in the world!” “But howe? IJ—-I don’t see.” Mallory laughed jubilantly, mischievous- ly. “You are the only girl,” he said. “absolutely the only one I’ve met in ten years, Myra, that hasn’t asked me Low she could get into the pictures! Myra laughed incredulously, but further argument was prevented by circumstances quite beyond her control. U THE EVERLASTING BEAUTY O-DAY, as in that other autumn, see The mountains wear a long-forgotten hue, Their loveliest, I call it lonesome blue So distant and alone they seem to be. I like to think that this rapt company Is pondering some beauty that they knew, A spring long fled, an age forever through. Some tumult turned to cold tranquillity. Of course it’s fancy, I know they cannot know The flowers of light that bind their brows at dawn, Do not regret the flames of dying fall. Theirs is to standi and wear God’s great moods so, Divinely stone to lesser beauties gone: The change and hurt are in my heart—-that’s all. @ T. Morris Longstreth, 10 A Commicloooks (©