The Argosy, September 1915 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

274 “But, my dear, I didn’t for a mo- ment dream that his attentions would really—”’ “ Attentions? Bosh!” Mrs. Witherbee opened her eyes wide. “’m not interested in his attentions —not in the slightest degree,” said Rosalind. “ They do not disturb me one way or the other. I am, however, purely from the standpoint of human- ity, interested in the preservation of his life.” “His Irfet” “Certainly. I thought you knew.” “ But Rosalind, dear—’”’ * Why in the world you didn’t ask me I don’t know,” said Rosalind, ma- king a hopeless gesture with both arms. *“ Mverybody else knows it.” Mrs. Witherbee’s face had attained a greenish pallor. “Knows what?” she asked trem- blingly. “ Knows that Reginald Williams has a heart that is liable to drop him in his tracks any time.” Mrs. Witherbee raised both hands and opened her mouth. “ Certainly,” added Rosalind sharp- ly. “ He’s been suffering from it for some time. He’s not allowed to take violent exercise, or to undergo any ex- citement or sudden shock. He has to be kept perfectly quiet. And above all he must not be given the slightest hint of his trouble. You’ see, -he doesn’t know it himself.” “ Doesn’t know it!” “Tndeed not. The physicians are afraid that it would make matters worse to tell him. So they told only his family, and his family has in- formed his friends. And Reggy is really in the hands of his friends with- out knowing it.” “But he’ll be with friends here,” said Mrs. Witherbee, brightening. “ Friends—yes!”’ exclaimed Rosa- lind. “ But how about the excitement? Think of what’s been going on here— of what may happen at any time. Why, it mtight kill him!” THE ARGOSY. Mrs. Witherbee sat down suddenly and limply. “What shall we do?” she moaned. “There is only one thing to do, of course; that is to make the best of it. He must be kept absolutely quiet, but he must not know that he is being kept quiet. “Under no circumstances must he be told anything about burglars or smugglers or spies or anything of that sort. He must not know about the burglar-alarm, or the raids at this place and Mr. Davidson’s — or any- thing! It may be a matter of life or death with him. Nobody must even suggest such a thing! “Why, Gertrude mustn’t even wear that bracelet, because it’s so odd it will start him asking questions, and then the whole thing is likely to come out! “Everybody must be told to say nothing whatever about anything that might give him a shock. Not only that; they mustn’t even do anything exciting.” “T’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” faltered Mrs. Witherbee as she rocked in her chair. “It’s too late to stop him, of course,” continued Rosalind. “TI sup- pose he’s at Clayton by this time. So the only thing we can do is to take the utmost precautions. And we must be particularly careful that he does not even suspect!” “Oh, we will; we will, my dear.” “And you'll tell everybody?” said Rosalind anxiously. “Every soul! T’ll tell Stephen im- mediately. We'll all help—we'll be so careful!” Rosalind watched Mrs. Witherbee hurry in search of her husband and smiled grimly. “Something had to be done about it,” she murmured. “I couldn’t think of anything else offhand.” It was dusk and the Witherbee household was sitting on the porch un- naturally quiet when a voice from the path that led to the wharf rent the air with a bellow. CORNICLOOOKS (E@)