The Argosy, January 1906 — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

ee “T am Clare Langham,” she said at ae jength. En? [ jumped. : eee “You have a sister?” I ejaculated ab- = surdly. 2 “Yes, three,’ she said. “Do you _— ~*~ know them?” ~ z | “TI know of a Miss Hortense Lang- ham. Is she your sister?” “Yes,” she replied. s Oh,” I said. “Why ‘oh,’ ” she asked. “ Because she was—er—requested to marry—some one [ know,” I replied with hesitation. “But she won't,” returned the girl at my side positively. “She told me so.” “JT don’t blame her a bit,” I an- nounced. “If she’s like you, no man could possibly be worthy of her.” ae She blushed. ee “Oh, but it isn’t that,” she ‘ait “The man’s quite possible. Really he is.” “Thank you,” I rejoined feelingly. She looked at me, perplexed. “I beg your pardon?” she said in- quiringly. IT couldn’t think of any explanation for my apparently ridiculous remark, so I asked hurriedly: “Then why won’t she marry ham ? = sae “ Why,” she explained seriously, “ one = can’t love a man whom one does not know.” “And so,” I said, “ your sister is old- fashioned enough ‘to believe in love. And do you?” “Why, yes, Be swered simply ~ “Don’t you?” — Her eyes were raised to mine, and in their dark, glowing depths I saw many, many things that I had never before known that eyes held; and I kept find- ing more wonderful, beautiful things until at last her long ‘lashes fell and the red blood delicately colored the tender whiteness of her cheek. Then I answered her question. “ Yes,” I said; and I meant it as I i had never meant anything before. Roses My hand fell on hers, which trembled <A for a moment and then lay still; and, do you know, it felt as though it had al- of course,’ she an- and- wonderingly. ete ge re Seah utmost limit—and believed it, too. — | a seers been oe and ee = es a. ae a if poe fone get 1] ARRANGED. this means nothing save to those who : know. | 3 And then the driver stuck his ugly face in though the trap. “ Where yer wanter he queried. ze “Don’t be so deuced inquisitive,” is = shouted. “ Drive anywhere, and when — you get there drive somewhere se and = don’t bother me.” : And I really believe tink that was what he did, for it was quite dusk when — we at length drove upto the Langhams’ place; and she wondered what made the sun set at half-past four that night when it hadn’t gone down until a quarter past seven on the night before— for really it couldn’t have been ee gor? the park. ae I avowed that twenty minutes was the I drove back to Uncle Tim’s, and — Parkins paid the cabbie. I found — Uncle Tim sitting over his cordial and cigar when I entered the dining-room. — “Time goes quickly,” he observed : ironically. peer “It does,” I replied feelingly, think ing of the park. = «] thought I told you not to come — back until your birthday,” he went on a acidly. 2 “You did,” I replied, “ but I couldiz ee wait as long as that to tell you that your judgment is almost good. You struck = the right house, anyway.” = “What do you mean?” he demanded... “Lend me a nickel,” I requested. “What?” he cried. “ Well, then, advance it to me Ole of my legacy.” SSE He tendered me the desined coin won- deringly. er “Keep it,” I said. “ And now I want you to go up to Mr. Langham’s and — tell him that I want to marry his — daughter—the one to whom [| owe this. nickel.” My unele stared at me in aitianiotarie “Are you crazy?” he asked in anx=— 33 ious bewilderment. — Sa “ Almost,” I replied. “I’ve ordered = the brougham around. It’s at the door — now. And I’ll have a maniacal attack that will make a Kansas cyclone look