Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

$42 surely, this was the night of the dinner party. And Aunt Jury— Numbly she watched Mrs. Ricketts cry when she told her that Aunt Jury was not to be disturbed. Mrs. Ricketts crying was a most unpleasant sight. Lynnie felt no an swering sympathy. } But—wasw’t there an obligation? She considered for a moment, and then said quietly: “Tf you can’t get any one else, I'll go over and help you with your dinner, Mrs. Ricketts. ll serve it for you.” The tears had made devastating inroads through the powder on Mrs. Ricketts’s face. There was something grotesque in the re- lieved countenance she turned toward Lyn- nie. ' “ Oh, Miss Brooke—would you? you do that for me?” ‘“1’m doing it for Aunt Jury,” said Lyn- nile. Will Lynnie took a last look at the sleeping Aunt Jury. Johnny Jackrabbit sat by her and had promised to come for Lynnie in case Aunt Jury wakened and needed her. She had shown him the bright light stream- ing from Mrs. Ricketts’s open kitchen door. And it was toward this light that Lyn- nie was now painfully picking her way. She had bathed and dressed hurriedly. She wore the flowered mull frock that Aunt Jury had vainly tried to modernize, and her Aunt Fanny’s low heeled satin sandals. | The shale covered ground was sharp and cruel to her slippered feet. ‘““Lynnie! Lynnie!” The words stopped her. No one in camp called her Lynnie except Archer. And this was not Archer’s voice. It sounded thick and throaty and curiously strained. ‘‘ Lynnie, wait for me!” A little white figure came flying through the dusk. Lynnie stiffened and turned, glad to be taller than this small creature. It was Sophy Sanders. They had stopped in the light of a cabin window, and Lynnie saw that the other’s eyes were almost shut, her face swollen from long weeping. ‘“Lynnie, is she badly hurt?” Sophy ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. looked up at her piteously. ‘Is she going to die?” “Your mother didn’t quite succeed in killing her—” Sophy put out an impulsive hand to stop her. She began crying again in a fearful racking way, as if crying were agony. “ I’m so ashamed—I’m so ashamed for my moth- er. How could she? How could my own mother do such a thing? It was so terrible. It was so cruel. It was so c-common!” Sophy sobbed on. “ I only knew it an hour ago. I have cried. I have cried—till it kills me to cry.” / The other’s heart softened. badly hurt.” “ Oh, Lynnie!” They put their arms around each other. Suddenly they seemed very near together. Sophy said simply: “It’s you he loves.” ** She’s not Lynnie’s arms fell to her sides. But Sophy caught her hand. “ Truly, it’s you he loves. That’s what makes it seem so awful. Poor mother, thinking she was bringing me happiness. Oh, Lynnie, if I could only make you un- derstand about mother! She has had such a hard life! She has had nothing—nothing —and she has tried to give me everything! Lynnie, it seems so—so—+tragical for poor mother to be trying to snatch happiness for me in the only way she knows—by fighting for it.” Sophy was sobbing again. Lynnie drew her to her breast. ‘‘ Don’t cry, honey— don’t cry!” She had the feeling of com- forting a downy, yellow chick that had been lost in the rain. From under Lynnie’s arm the other girl spoke again: ‘‘ He loves you.” ‘“ He’s not worthy of my love—or yours, Sophy.” The little form stood before her. ‘‘ Oh, but Lynnie, he is! He is splendid! Do you know that when he found out that he loved you that he came straight as a string and told me so? He said that it was like the revelation of St. Peter or St. Paul—you know the one—” “ Did he say that?” “Yes, Lynnie, he said—” But Lynnie, deep in self-reproach, was COMME NOOKS» CO