The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

HAMPTON OF -Ah, yes!” said Jerry, very softly and calmly; but Delroy did not miss the flash of red that suffused his whole countenance. “And, if you’ll pardon me for reverting to an embarrassing subject,” the older man went on, “that is precisely why I gave way to annoyance and temper this morning. It seemed to me that Eugenia was thought- less and indiscreet in meeting you in such a place, with every appearance of secrecy when she is virtually engaged to another man.” “T see!” murmured Jerry, without spirit. “She is fond of Foxford, and they’ve been around together a good deal during the last six months,” Delroy continued blithely, ‘“‘and I believe the match will be a very happy one. She is young, of course, without a full sense of her responsibilities, but she should know better than even to risk the appearance of such a thing as a clandestine meeting with another man.” “She was entirely innocent of any thought of indiscretion, I’m sure,” said Jerry mechanically, scarcely realizing what words his lips were forming. “Oh, absolutely!” agreed Delroy airily. “T know now that she considered her father an oppressive tyrant, and went to give you her sympathy, out of her nat- ural goodness of heart. I knew at the time that there was nothing between you, for you are scarcely acquainted.” “Scarcely acquainted!’ echoed Hamp- ton stonily. “And now I feel that we are all upon a plan of better understanding, sir,’’ finished Delroy, with such a sanctimonious air that Jerry was half prepared to hear him add: “Thus endeth the first lesson.” The visitor got up, looking dull and tired. “Good-night, Mr. Delroy,” he said. “Why, if you must go, good-night and pleasant dreams,” replied the host jovial- ly; “but when I am having—er—what dear old Dr. Johnson called ‘a good talk,’ I never know whether it’s late or early. Drop in here again, Hampton, when there’s no business to bother us. And I’m coming over one of these days and see that farm, by Jove!—and that charming old lady.” THE HEIGHTS. 27 “Thank you,” Jerry returned, without enthusiasm, and got himself out of the house as expeditiously as possible. The hush that follows midnight was upon the land when he stood in the street, ~ and the chill vapors were rising from the lower levels, but without thought of time or habit he turned northward, as he had in the morning, and, unconscious of the whimsical coincidence, walked through the woods to the old Indian tree. There he sat down on the bench to think of—everything, and nothing in par- ticular, as it seemed; and the blackness of the night woods was turning to dusky gray as the opal mists of the dawn floated over the treetops, when he got up and climbed the crooked path to the hill again. CHAPTER VII. IT ALL DEPENDS. XMOOR had not removed his clothes or allowed his pipe to grow cold the whole night long. He sat in a corner of the porch, smoking hard, when Jerry Hampton slouched through the doorway in the fence. It was broad day now, and the sun was streaking long shadows across the hilltop and glimmering on the church spires across the Harlem River in the Bronx. Exmoor leaped from the porch to the ground without touching the steps. ‘““‘What’s the matter, Hampton?” he de- manded, in a hoarse whisper. ‘‘Something has gone wrong!” - Jerry went to the steps and sat down. “From what you saw of her, Exmoor,” he said, “in just the few minutes that she was speaking to us—”’ “Her!” cried Exmoor, nonplused. “She/ Why, what in the devil are you talking about, man?” “T am trying to talk of Miss Delroy,” answered Jerry, in an injured tone, “whom you met over there on Broadway when her auto nearly ran us down. Tell me frankly, Exmoor, if you think she is the sort of a girl that would marry a heavy-faced, low- (EO) NOOKS AMG (C@