Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

ry hse 582 - “ Good-by, Betty. I don’t suppose we shall ever meet again. It’s better that I’m going—hbetter for you and for me. Think of me sometimes, Betty. Think of your poor Peter, my little friend.” I couldn’t speak. His voice was so real, so sad. It was as if he were telling me that he and I had met in fairyland, and that now we had to go back to the real world, where we should not know each other even if we met face to face. - If I had stayed I should have burst cut with the truth. I dared not stay. I tore my- hands away from his clasp, and, with- out another word or look, I ran. Bunch was waiting for me in her little house. She had not expected me yet, it being a gala night at the Flower Garden Club. She looked at me anxiously from be- hind the big spectacles she wore when read- Ing or writing. ‘“‘ Liz, what’s the matter? crying. What’s happened? once.” Before I answered her, I took off my hat and removed the golden wig. “The king has been called away,” I said. ‘“He leaves to-morrow night. We shall hear about it, I expect, when we get to Curzon Street.” “Then this is all over. You won’t be going to the dancing place any more?”’ “Tt’s all over, Bunch. We can put the old wig away in its box. The lower Gar- den Club will see me no more.”’ “Thank God!” said Bunch fervently. We got a message from the king at home. The reason of his sudden recall was the serious illness of the Prime Minister. He was not expected to live, and in case of his death, the king must be on the spot. The message said that the king would have to be at the Embassy most of the morning, but that he would be happy to lunch with me as already arranged. All through that night, £ heard the sad- mad-gay melody of the “Sable Night” waltz. The night was indeed falling on my golden day. You’ve been Tell me at In the morning I went out early and sent a telegram to Mrs. Groote. I could not trust it to any other hand. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘Much regret must abandon post,” it ran. “ Reasons of health. Cannot accept engagement Charity Féte Thursday.” I signed it “ Fane.” That, I supposed, was to be the end of my masquerade. I had received no money, and no doubt Mrs. Groote would curse me for an ungrateful wretch and forget all about me. The king came to luncheon. JI had asked several people whom he wished to meet. It was a formal affair. The talk was much of Floranian affairs. He singled out Bunch for his special attention, as he generally did. He left early. There was a lot for him to do. At eight o’clock in the evening Bunch and I drove to the station to see him off. Misery had made me dull and stupid. I looked my worst, as I always did on these oc- casions. He was going away. I should never meet him again as Betty Fane. It would be always under these conditions that seemed to paralyze me. For one mad moment, as we kissed un- der the trees in Hyde Park, he and I had been one. But he did not know it. And all the problems of our marriage remained. Despite his incognito there were a good many people at the station. At the last moment he took leave of me, raising my hand to his lips with graceful courtesy. His eyes were politely in- different. I felt no touch of him. I was utterly wretched. I longed to cry out—‘ Why, oh, why can’t you look at me as you looked at Betty Fane!” The next morning I read in a daily paper: His Majesty the King of Florania was enter- tained to luncheon yesterday by his fiancée, the Countess Cleveland, at her residence in Curzon Street. The sudden indisposition of his prime minister forced his majesty to cut short his visit to England. Lady Cleveland drove to Victoria station in the evening to see her fiancé off. General sympathy is felt for the young couple in this misfortune, which has prevented them grom enjoying to the full the first blissful days of their betrothal. Blissful days, indeed! Or, rather, blissful hours! Those few secret, wonderful danc- ing hours! oO EComichooks.co 5}