Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

DINNER FOR CYNTHIA. “Oh, fiddle-de-dee!” corrected Mrs. Stone. ‘‘ His life isn’t wrecked, my dear; he won’t run to the nearest dock and jump _ off the end, you may be sure. You don’t know ’em, Cynthia; I do. I know every answer in their little book! Two days from now—tah! two hours from now, if he has the chance, more likely—he’ll be shining up to some other girl. He'll be looking at her just as he was looking at you, and tell- ing her she’s the first woman he ever even noticed. Any more of them like him about?” ‘“‘T__T¥_no, there are not!” Mrs. Stone laughed happily. “JT asked merely for information. They don’t bother me, understand. I can settle one of ’em or a dozen—or a hundred, for that matter—so that he’ll no longer be in any doubt about his chances with you, my dear. Heigho!” said Mrs. Stone, and yawned amply. ‘“ Well, my daughter’s gone to bed, Cynthia, so we have only ourselves to consult. Sit down again and play something lively this time—something gay and snappy, deary. I had no idea so many funeral marches ever had been com- posed, as you played before. What do you know that’s full of pep and _ hilarity, Cynthia?” ‘“ Nothing,” said Cynthia. “ You tired, too?” sé Very.” “Oh, well, I'll have plenty more chances to listen to you in the years to come, please Heaven,” the lady reflected. ‘‘ Too tired to read to me for a while, my child?” ‘‘J—oh, I don’t care!” the guest mut- tered, hopelessly. ‘“Let’s go upstairs again!” Mrs. Stone proposed, and arose. quite nimbly. She favored popular magazines of the most modern kind, it appeared—magazines, in fact, which specialized in the utmost frankness. She settled in her largest chair and contemplated the pile of them beside her, at last selecting one and tossing it to Cynthia Blair; and Cynthia read and read, droning on listlessly, lifelessly, and merci- fully with no comprehension at all of what it was that she read. Because, if ever a person’s thoughts were elsewhere, that was the location of Her own heart, as she knew quite well, to remain unhealed was broken now, throughout Time. As well as if the walls had been removed, she knew what was happening next door. Billy, you see, was a very, very strong character. A life like his could know but one great love; Billy had Known his and now it was dead and buried, deep and forever. Hence, he would have turned, even now, for the rest of his days, to that one other interest, business. From this point onward Billy’s whole life would be, because it could be, nothing - but business. In there, doubtless, they were wond’ring what had changed him so, since his spectacular departure and his sudden return; they were wondering what had at Jast brought him so intensely to the affairs of the moment. Well, in the years to come, they would go on wondering at William Brander, who devoted every day and every night to the affairs of his employer, trying and trying to forget—rising, until he could rise no more with that particular firm—tising still, until he was at the head of his own vast business—yes, and rising even after that, until he was unquestioned czar of his line in the whole country, a grim, silent and un- smiling man, whose gnawing tragedy few suspected and none knew. Cynthia could visualize all this just as easily as if the actual events were unfolding before her. And presently, and oddly enough, a cool- ing, sane sort of feeling began to steal upon Cynthia—a strange suspicion that, some- how, good old reason had recovered con- sciousness and was clambering back to his throne. She glanced up. Mrs. Stone, possibly sa- tiated with her evening, was snoring softly. Cynthia quickened. Actually, with the lady sound asleep, it was as if a malevolent Pres- ence had been removed from the place. Cynthia herself sighed shudderingly and dropped the magazine. She frowned, and then she smiled, for—she really-was think- ing again! | In fact, she was thinking rather too well. She had been trapped; that was the be- ginning and the end of it. At this minute she could leave the room unhindered and, if she chose to forsake hat and coat, per- Se