Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

272 ‘““T never have, you know. On the rare occasions when he’s honored the town, I’ve been away. I’m ever so excited about meeting him. Is he a prig, Julia?” Julia moistened her lips. After a mo- ment she answered: “I don’t think so.” Her nervousness was apparent. “JT thought perhaps he was,” said Frances, ‘ because of the way auntie talks of him; a man who is an authority on dragon’s blood vases, doesn’t seem very rugged, does he?—and scarabs, you know, and Egyptian stuff. But he won’t be critical of us, and that will be fine, won’t it?” ce Yes.”’ Julia.” &< Yes?” “Do you think my crape de Chine is too short?” “No, dear.” Frances vanished into the next bedroom and from it came small fragments of song, the noises of a brush laid on a bureau-top, a dropped shoe. Julia laid down her em- broidery and stared straight ahead into the long glass which stood opposite. She saw a girl who faintly resembled small Frances Milton, a more tall and harshly- lined, less beautiful girl, but a pretty one. The girl was cutting roses in the Milton garden and throwing them toward a basket, whith stood on the ground near her, She sang a little, but suddenly she stopped and looked up. A young man stood looking at - her, and they both smiled. “You must be Mr. Philip Carpenter,” said the girl. “And you, Miss Julia Milton,” an- swered the man. | Then they had both ,stepped nearer the new and small dividing hedge and above it had shaken hands. The roses faded, she saw September’s swirling leaves. Again she stood by the hedge. It was dusk, and the man by her suddenly drew a sharp breath and whispered: ‘ Julia, I Jove you.” Then she saw Franklin Milton’s sneer, the picture faded, and she covered her eyes. “ Julia,” called Frances from the adjoin- ing room, “I’m going to tea at the Sal- THE ARGOSY. berry’s to-morrow at four. Not the usual walk-in-the-side-door affair, but a real party for Philip, you see.” There was a lull and the noise of running water. ‘“ How I hate tooth-brushes that moult!” complained Frances. “‘ They didn’t ask you to his tea, Julia, but just me. I hope you feel squelched.” There was a silence. “Do you?” asked Frances, Julia drew a long breath, smiling in a rather strange way, and answered: course I am deeply hurt!” After a silent moment Frances came in. She settled on the little hassock by Julia’s feet and rubbed a cheek against her sister’s knee. “I’ve often thought,” said Frances, “that with this discipline from. the town, — this loudly shown disapproval, we’ve been unhappy, but we’ve been happy, too. Think how well we know each other, how tight we are.” She moved even closer to her muck older sister. “ But I wish I could make mother and you happy! I’m sure we’ve had all the discipline we deserve! I’d do anything to make you happy! Any- thing!’ Julia laid down her embroidery. “If you’re happy,” I’m happy,’ said Julia, in a low voice. After a close moment, Frances spoke, airily and on another topic. That is the way youth skirts that which touches the inner shrines. “So I’m to go to tea to-morrow,” she said, ‘‘to meet Philip, the adored; and you aren’t asked!’ I am young and beauti- ful!” That was an old joke and one at which Julia always laughed; but to-day she did not. Instead she sewed fast and un- steadily. Frances looked up with inquiry. She wondered if she had dismissed Julia’s re- marks about happiness too abruptly. It was characteristic of her that she never worried over her own feelings being hurt, but worried and thought often if she imagined any one else’s were troubled. “You were so dear to say that about my being happy!” she said. “I never knew any one so unselfish as you are, Julia darling! I do love you so!” An hour later Frances was clipping roses COPMIC OOO C S (EO)