Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

S had been quite fearsome for a few seconds, was gone from her eyes. She was really only an elderly lady, leaning on a cane. “Very well, my child,” she said gently, with a small forlorn note, too. “If you must go, you must. I don’t blame you. I —I don’t get on very well with the rest of the race.” Despite herself, the tender Cynthia paused in the doorway and looked back. The elder lady was leaning on her old black walnut dressing table now, smiling wearily. Yes, and she was holding out her hand. “Come and say good night to me, my child, and forgive me,” she said very gently. “I’m rather a ridiculous person, I suppose, but I feel deeply about the boy, and when a girl as sweet as you—oh, well. I—I beg your pardon, Cynthia.” * And I—I beg yours, too,’ Miss Blair stammered, and blushed as she shook the big hand. “I didn’t mean to speak that way.” “Vou were justified, youngster,” Mrs. Stone sighed, drearily. ‘‘ You’ll come and see me again, soon?” “Tf you really want me to.” “1 do. The sooner the better, my dear. - And I tell you honestly that the day you and Neville are married will be the happiest day of my life!” She patted Cynthia’s arm, she patted her side, plainly enjoying the firm, young feel of her—and Cynthia considered swiftly. Really, there was no sense at all in sad- dening this rather sad woman by insisting upon telling the actual truth. A graceful exit was all that the moment demanded. “Well, I hope that you'll know a lot of days even happier than that!” she laughed, tactfully enough. The hand had dropped away from her. Mrs. Stone nodded and turned her some- what gloomy gaze to her dressing table, with its plain fittings and its odd bronze jewel case. She smiled suddenly. _ Wait just one minute more, my dear!” she cried. ‘‘ That infernal boy didn’t pro- vide you with an engagement ring, did he?” “ He—why, no!” _ “Well, I’ve done about everything for him since he was born, except eat his eee ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. meals,’ Mrs. Stone grunted, and opened the jewel-case. ‘Ill have to do that for him, too.” “Oh! Please, no!” Cynthia cried. “Wait till you see it! Wait till you see it!” the lady chuckled. “It'll batter its way through even your shyness, this ring will! This ving, Cynthia! This is a ring that was given to my father by some rajah or other in India, when father went around the world in eighteen-seventy-three! Couple of jewel hounds looked at it, just last winter, and one of ’em offered me twelve thousand dollars for it. Little bit of a thing, too, the ring part—wouldn’t any more than hang on the nail of father’s little finger. But the three stones—vwell, where the Sam Hill is that thing?” One large forefinger poked among trinkets that clinked. Cynthia, who harbored no slightest suggestion of desire to go forth with twelve thousand dollars’ worth of ring on her finger, racked her rather weary brain for the simplest manner of declining the gift without giving offense. Now, however, the lady was straightening up with a sud- den: “Hang it! Cornelia took it to the safe deposit with the other small stuff! Id forgotten that.” “Well, I’m glad!” Cynthia laughed re- lievedly. “I’m too careless to have ex- pensive jewelry.” ‘This wouldn’t have been any too good for you, my dear,” said Mrs. Stone. And her gaze roved back to the jewel-case and rested there. Rather idly, she turned over the pieces; then she turned them over with rising excitement, muttering the while. “Well, where’s ‘iat gone?” she demanded. ‘“ Is—is something else missing?” “Yes—pin!” grunted the elder lady and unceremoniously dumped some two dozen old-fashioned pieces to the surface of her table and poked afresh. ‘‘ This household, y know!” she said savagely. “It'll drive me crazy in good earnest before I die and get out of it!” ‘But your—your pin probably went—” “It did not!” snapped Neville’s grand- mother. “I always keep that near me and —Cynthia!” “ee Yes?” (CCOPMIC OKO KS 5)