The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

MESQUITE RANCH. disabilities as a husband would merely mean a chance for any one of several men who could only envy him now. How long he sat, trying to face the future but continually dodging from its hideousness, Radford did not realize. He heard a refined uproar in the hall. The guests were coming from luncheon. Soon his mother would come down-stairs, and he must be on hand. 3 He went to a mirror and beheld his own face with something like-wonder. The moments that had passed might have been days, so deep and so stern was their imprint. Again the feeling of sick disgust at his own incapacity, at his helplessness, flooded over him. He threw out his arms and tensed his big muscles, trying to convince himself that he was a man. But his undeceived common sense was not influenced by the bravado. He was afraid of poverty and all it meant of dependence or deprivation. The white feather in his own nature flaunt- ed itself and made him desperate and miserable. “Ted, you must come! ” It was Bess’s voice, but outraged conventions used it. She was angry with him for having failed in his du- ties as host, since Mr. Barrington ab- solutely refused to go through the or- deal of the wedding luncheon. But Radford could think of just one thing as his eyes traveled hungrily over her. He would lose her. The alterna- tive, the only way in which he could hope to continue as her favored suitor, was scarcely less repugnant to contem- plate than her loss. He must accept the bounty that would come to him from _ Barrington and hope that it might be sufficient to satisfy Mrs. Hetherington’s demands for her daughter. Then, suddenly, and with the glow and lift of light and music, the thought that he might be misjudging Bess came to him. Because her mother was ab- solutely mercenary and ambitious and because her father quietly let his wife manage was no real reason for his be- 725 * lieving Bess as sordid. The impulse came to him to confide in her and rest his fate with her. ‘ Bess, if you knew—” “Oh, Frederick, don’t talk! Come on! People are already talking. If you don’t come this very instant, I sha'n’t speak to you,” she interrupted. It was not an opportune moment to tell her of himself.. He had already offended her god of “ good form” by failing in his duties as host. He started toward the door. Wretched and despairing as he was, the sympathy of the girl he loved would have been priceless to him. As he came toward her, Bess lifted her dark eyes with their wonderful look of slumber- ous tenderness to him. Again that lump came in his throat. He reached for her. Even if the days were numbered during which he might hope to be near her, he had still the rights of a lover. ““ Bess—sweetheart!”’ he whispered, holding her back from the door she wanted to reach. “I love you! I love you, darling!” “Ted, don’t .be sentimental now. - There isn’t any time. Mr. Barrington will get a strange idea of you! ” she ex- claimed. Ted could not have told which part of her reply disturbed him most. But anger flamed up at the mention of Bar- rington’s name. He became more dreadfully conscious of the position he occupied toward the millionaire. If he ever won Bess, it would be because of him. And the knowledge was increas- ingly bitter. He was half surprised at himself when he found that he was looking straight into Bess Hetherington’s lovely face and wondering if it justified the sacrifice of his independence. “Ted, you must be agreeable to him. Mother says it may mean a great deal to—to us.” Bess slipped through the door. Rad- . ford stood with the sharp point of the arrow she had launched unwittingly gouging into the very quick of him. CORMICGLOOKS (C@)