The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

152 “The devil she did!” cried the colonel with something like horror. “ Then it’s worse than I expected. Well, I’m off for Montreal, anyway, and I may not—may not be able to get back before Christmas Eve, you know. We have the invitations out for the party that night, and. I sup- pose I'll manage to screw up courage to get there.” Olmstead was gravely thoughtful. “ That’s really: not such a bad idea,” he drawled. ‘If you had a run-in now with Flora, it might easily upset every- thing, so you’d best keep away. She seems quite all. right with me, and [’m not— Oh, I’m not afraid of her, you know! I fancy I can keep her in good humor.” “T’d be just as pleased if she were not in such good humor,” said the colonel; “ she’s most difficult and dangerous when she’s that way. I’m going to put the thing through, though, if it’s possible. I don’t want to see Flora till Christmas Eve; I don’t want to talk to her. ['ll arrive just in time for the dinner, and I'll bring the bally Christmas gifts with me. Flora’s still a child, and she’ll be carried away with the things. We'll have to act upon the psychological second. See? “T’ll mention that the necklace is not only a Christmas gift, but a token in celebration of your engagement, and I'll suggest that we give the happy tidings to our guests. It may fall flatter than a pancake, but we have a good chance. I have an idea that she’ll give her consent, without really stopping to think what it’s all about. And Flora’s not a girl to re- nege, you know. She’s a good sport.” Olmstead smiled sadly. “Tt’s rather tough,” he said, “ when a fellow’s wild about a girl, that he has to win her by a regular conspiracy. Makes a chap feel rather low and mean, you know.” “Are you getting sentimental, too?” asked the colonel, with a sniff. “TI say, aren’t we acting absolutely for Flora’s comfort and happiness? The child little dinner Sunday night. THE ARGOSY. doesn’t know her own mind. If she took up with a chap like Spencer she’d be miserable enough, I can tell you. You have the power to make her happy and contented, and you’re a—a deucedly good fellow.” “Thanks!” drawled Olmstead, and was keen enough to feel for the moment damned with faint praise. IIT, CHRISTMAS was falling on Monday, and as the final practical preparations for the festival had to be made on Saturday, Flora Crofton came into the city early on that morning from Greenwich, where a school friend had entertained her for two days. By a pleasant prearrangement, Jack Spencer met her at the station, Howard Olmstead’s importunate eagerness to per- form the same agreeable service having been discouraged, ‘““T suppose my car is outside,” said Flora, after the first greetings; “I or- dered it by phone. But you might send a wire for me, Jack, if you will. I had a message from father, in Montreal, for- warded to me at Greenwich. He’s fright- fully tied up there with business, and he can just barely get back to town for our ~ He said that he would arrive with the guests. I wish you'd send him a wire and say that I have attended to everything, and if he gets home in time for the soup it will be quite all right. Sign my name, of course.” “Naturally!” exclaimed Spencer with a laugh. “TI don’t want to disturb his peace of mind unnecessarily.” Flora stood near the information-booth and waited while he went to the telegraph office, and she regarded idly the throng of travelers that poured through one of the gates from a train that had just ar- rived. There were men and women, big and little, of high and low degree; timid, weary migrants with lumpy cord-bound bundles; brisk, keen-eyed business men, with smart clothes and important-looking luggage; sleek tourists, fresh from Pulf- HOOKS COWMUC (E@)