Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

THE ENCHANTED WEEK. Mary stared at her horrified. It dawned on her that Mrs. Brayton was completely out of her mind. It was obvious that she now believed their make-believe was real. Mary did not know what to do. She wished that Dr. Drake was there — that they had never come. Her reaction, how- ever, was not one of fear, but rather one of pity for Old Lady Five-and-Ten. Had she, in her well meaning way, only accom- plished harm? But in spite of her anxiety, Mary was in a fever of nervous anticipation as she dressed for dinner. If her intuition was correct, and Kane should ask her to marry him, there would be nothing else to do but confess her sham. He knew she was. leaving to-morrow. That was why she reasoned that he would speak to-night. If only Old Lady Five- and-Ten had not drawn that senseless will! Kane would suppose it a gesture, intend- ed to impress him—a deliberate effort to make him believe she was something she was not. She wondered if he would hate her. That she loved him, Mary knew, down in the depths of her heart. But in no event would she say yes without reveaMng her colors. Sighing, she looked at the mirror. It showed nothing to sigh about. In her blue and silver frock and tiny silver slippers, Mary looked like a blue-eyed sprite in the sparkle of-a fountain. The Spanish comb from the leather trunk was in her wavy hair, From the lobes of her ears hung pen- dants from the five and ten. At least, she thought, she looked the part that she was beginning to loathe. “ve a headache,” Mrs. Brayton said. “ Make my excuses, my dear.” Mary thought that she looked worn; that her eyes were abnormally bright. It seemed to her that they sparkled with a light of mischievous glee. She felt just a little anxious over leaving her alone. In her mental state she could not be sure what embarrassing absurdity the old lady might think up. On several scores she was just as glad that Mrs. Bray- ton would not be with them this eve- ning. LOA 625 Allan Kane seemed to share her view, but from a different standpoint. After din- ner they strolled to the pier, out beyond the dancing floor and the concert hall, to its very end. There, on a bench in a shel- tered nook, they sat for some time in silence. It was one of understanding, more elo- quent than words. Or, at least it would have been but for Mary’s conscience. Kane’s arm slipped about her. She buried her head on his shoulder. She knew what he was going to say—and she wanted him to say it—but she knew he mustn’t. “You darling!” he murmured, and held her close. “If I only dared to ask you, I’d be the happiest man in the world!” ‘You mean that you’re married!” She drew. away. “Certainly not!” he denied. “ But I can’t ask you to marry me. I’m poorer than a church mouse. I’m a lawyer, but I’m a clerk in Stephen Ruthven’s office. The people I’ve talked to your aunt about are his clients, not my friends. I’ve no right to even think of a girl of your wealth and position!” His tone was dejected; bitter. With a musical laugh Mary wound her arms about his neck. Then she softly whispered her confession in his ear. -** So you see I’m not an heiress. That’s what made me miserable when I thought that you were rich.” “T am! You’re you—and you’re mine!” he breathed. ‘‘ Some day our dream life may come true. In the meantime, we have each other!” It was late when they reached the Dip- lomat, and reluctantly said good night. Mary wondered if Old Lady Five-and-Ten by chance might be awake. She was im- patient to tell her this perfectly glorious news. z She and Allan had planned it all. No more silly pretense! No ephemeral castles in the air! Instead, a cozy bungalow— with a room for Mrs. Brayton. It seemed too good to be true. On tiptoe she stepped into the room. There was not even a sound. Switching on the bedside light, she looked at the old lady’s face. (ECO A ALICE eS’ .OO com