The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

634 hemotor Company—or to buy you the in- terest for a wedding present— “Oh, yes, I did. Why not? I think he ought to. Maybe he intends to do it now. But he went away up in the air about it the other day. But now—” Arlene broke off in a manner to indicate her idea that now everything was turning out for the best. And Hardy Orton sud- denly began to wonder if he might not keep up the bluff until Atherton really had ar- ranged for setting him up in business. No, he would not urge haste in marriage. But, if Arlene were anxious, if her father seemed no longer to object, and even hinted at helping things along by financing his son- in-law-to-be into real business—he would not stand upon any absurd sentiment against the mere appearance of ‘‘marrying a meal ticket.” Of course the need of evening clothes for Thursday prevented their being pawned on Wednesday. The flannels went instead, supplemented with a business suit he had not bothered to take before, since it could not possibly bring him a dollar. Orton worked in a garage all day Thurs- day, and lived in the clouds. At last he could see some hope. Soon—perhaps to- night—he would know the future prospects. Certainly Mr. Anson P. Atherton had no intention of publicly engaging his daughter to a man utterly at sea with regard to the future. To-night he would know. Perhaps he would not know all, would not be told just what Atherton intended to do. But he would know enough from his future father- in-law’s attitude toward him, And the very fact that to-night was to be, was really evi- dence enough as to the attitude. He got off early. It takes a long time to get oneself cleaned up for a social event after a day in a garage. The day had passed when Orton could turn his hands over to the gentle mercies of a manicure- lady while a barber painlessly removed the day’s growth of beard. But he managed at length to achieve the appearance of a gen- tleman. Arlene, who had been ‘‘out” three years, and whose mother had died in giving her ° birth, was used to playing hostess. Two or three couples of her few invited friends had arrived ahead of Orton. She tore herself from their midst to snatch him’ from the hands of the maid at the door and to carry him off for a moment to whisper in his ear: THE ARGOSY. ‘“‘Father’s going to have a talk with you this evening. I—lI was talking to him this morning again about letting us get married, and at least letting me put my own money into business for you. And he said he thought we’d be able to settle everything after he’d seen you to-night.” She was beautifully gowned; her eyes sparkled with that glow of life and pleasure in being the center and hostess of a gather- . ing which a woman loses only when she has become truly old. Orton seized her in his arms. “You darling,” he murmured, love, joy, pride in her beauty, admiration—in his voice. “But I’d never let you or your father do a thing for me, if it weren’t that it’ll enable us to get married a little sooner. I’ve been wanting you for four years, Ar- lene. I’ll do almost anything to save wait- ing much longer for you.” He meant just that. She led him into the little circle of her friends, introduced him to one or two. Others came. Mr. Atherton stepped into the room a moment, spoke to two or three of his guests— “T’m going to give you a surprise to- night,” he said. They laughed. ‘We’re all ready for it,” one of them cried. He nodded to Orton. His look made Hardy question whether Atherton had ever been hostile to him. It was the same look of amused toleration which he had always shown. Had Orton not known better he would have thought the look more amused and less tolerant than usual. “Well, daddy,” Arlene asked easily, ‘my crowd is all here. Where’s yours?” “Coming, I hope,” said her father. ‘Ah, I guess that’s they now.” Orton’s motor-trained ear caught the hum of an engine, knew it for the purr of a Ford. A sudden chill struck through him. Did he know it for a certain, individual Ford? He felt a choking sensation, as he waited. Oddly, Mr. Atherton had closed the li- brary door as he went to the hall to meet the last arrivals. The young folk had re- sumed their light chatter. The room seemed to swim about Hardy’s head. He pulled himself together. It could not be. His imagination was playing him tricks. He jumped at the slight click of the lock as the hall door was opened, though he was probably the only person in the room who heard the sound. He looked up, dropped his gaze, forced himself to look up again. COLNMUE NOOL-KS (©)