The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

GETTING AWAY FROM THOMPSON. clearly,” Aunt Martha protested, with a shudder. “It was almost enough to give one some confidence in Cousin Harold’s amateur astrology!” Jane laughed impatiently, “He predicted the war and the Lusi- tania,” said Mrs. Porter-Preston. “After they happened,” Jane reminded her. ‘And he really did say that this would be a particularly unpleasant summer for us all,’ Aunt Martha persisted quite stubborn- ly, for she was very tolerant of this favorite nephew’s freaks. ‘And he mentioned the early part of September, too—do you re member?—and said that you were better off at home than elsewhere just then.” “Well, I’m home,” Jane laughed. ‘“That’s more than most of our friends can say.” Aunt Martha laid aside her glasses and relaxed. “I’m not sorry for that,” she murmured. “Do you know, dear, I think we might take September just as a resting period?” Ordinarily, Jane was no advocate of rest under any condition; this time, however, she nodded quite enthusiastically. “T’m willing—just to sit perfectly still and feel that no more outrageous things can happen to us,” she agreed. “I’ve gota dozen new books that all intelligent people are supposed to read, and I can wade through them; and Louise Devinne is home —I’ll have her to talk to; and there'll be lots of time for Jones to take me out on the. road and teach me how to run my lovely new six.” “T think, Jane,” Aunt Martha said, dis- approvingly, “that I should permit Jones to run the motor himself; it’s not the task for a girl. You had better just rest, dear; there is a busy season ahead.” Jane smiled indulgently and held her peace. “And, Jane,” said her aunt. “Ves, dear?” “Next week you will be twenty-one,” Mrs. Porter-Preston stated, significantly. “Of course,” said Jane. “So that, tis season—” Aunt Martha added, and permitted the sentence to die out with even added significance. Jane’s frank brown eyes came up curi- ously. ‘“‘What do you mean, auntie?” Mrs. Porter-Preston smiled slightly and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her lap; on many topics the last generation en- 195 joyed a shrinking lack of candor quite in- comprehensible to the present era. Mrs. Porter-Preston even avoided her niece’s eye as she said gently: “You may be thinking of marriage.” “No,” said Jane, witha start. “I’m not! Whatever put that into your head, auntie?” “Tt is the natural thing, dear,” Mrs. Porter-Preston murmured. “You know a great many very eligible young men, Jane, Tg gs “But I don’t want to marry any of them,” Jane said restlessly. ‘I don’t want to marry anybody!” Aunt Martha smiled benignly. “But the right man will appear, my dear,” she stated. “It might be as well to look around and see if he isn’t here already.” “He isn’t!” Jane cried, with quite re- markable force. ‘I’m sure that he isn’t and I don’t want to find him if he is.” cc Bot” “And even if he were,” Jane said strange- ly and looked straight out of the window again, “I shouldn’t want to know it! Really!” Mrs. Porter-Preston turned and stared frankly at her. Oddly enough, Jane’s fingers were interlocked and _ clutching tightly. . “What can you mean?” Aunt Marth asked. “Mean? Why—I don’t mean anything at all, of course!’”’ Jane said; and as she turned and realized that the stare was upon her, the fingers whisked apart and Jane smiled so suddenly and reassuringly that the effect was startling. “All I meant was that I don’t want to think about marriage for—for years to come!”’ “Ts the idea of marriage so unpleasant?” Aunt Martha asked. ‘““Oh—horribly!” escaped Jane. “My dear!” said Mrs. Porter-Preston, and rose suddenly and laid a gentle hand on her niece’s slim shoulder. “You are not in love with—”’ “T am not!” said Jane. “With an undesirable person, I mean?” Mrs. Porter-Preston insisted. “Not with any kind of person!” Jane declared warmly. ‘Truly, Aunt Martha! And—oh, don’t be silly, dear! I’m not ab- normal and I haven’t been falling in love with Jones or Dixon or anything of that kind, but I—I just don’t want to think about getting married or anything else to- night. I want to sit here for another five ECORMMICLOOOKS (C@)