Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

by CHAPTER XXII. THE MURDY-GURDY. ND that was what brought Jack to the A eioner dine which Mrs. Thomas Harding gave to bring out Sylvia Lester that night. Mrs. Harding was very glad to get Jack Lodge at the last moment, for half a dozen other guests had disap- pointed her at the eleventh hour and the affair promised to lack a great portion of that éclat which was really necessary to bring out a girl like Sylvia Lester. She was one of ‘those betwixt-and-between girls, with very good family behind her, but very little tradition; with sufficient money, but not a great fortune; with her share of good looks, but an unfortunate thin neck, in which the cords were apt to stand out when she turned her head thastily. When she laughed, too, her mouth became distressingly large. All of these things her mother knew perfectly well, and she knew as well as if a prophet had told her that the only way her daughter would get on in the social world was to start her with @ great impetus. Mrs. Harding undertook the task of set- ting the ball rolling with a proper sense of the difficulty of the task; and she had been in despair when half a dozen people were forced to send in regrets at the last mo- ment. But Jack Lodge saved the evening for her. He had been away so long, he ap- peared so seldom, that ‘he was really the prize of the moment; and that explained the exceedingly cordial smile with which Mrs. Harding received him. She was a little woman with the eye of a Max Brand Author of “The Night Horseman,” ete, general of the line, and she had risen from nothing through sheer ability. She took Sylvia Lester aside at the first possible mo- ment. “I’m going to put Jack Lodge beside you,” she said. ‘I suppose you don’t know :him?”’ Sylvia did not; but she had heard a great deal about him. ‘““ Forget everything you’ve heard,” said Mrs. Harding. ‘“ Jack is big and stern-look- ing, but he’s as simple as a child. And he hates a fuss. For heaven’s sake don’t try to make him talk about his hunting. As far as I know, it’s the only thing the does well, and like every other man he hates to feel that he’s valued for the thing he does best.” “That’s odd,” said Sylvia, opening her eyes. ‘ Why is that?” ‘““T don’t know,” sighed Mrs. Harding, and, seeing two people she wished to speak with, she added hastily: ‘“‘ God made men; I didn’t!”? and she was gone. As for Sylvia, she was a little shocked, a little puzzled, and not a little delighted. It was the first sign she had beheld that the celebrated Mrs. Harding was humanly fallible; and presently she was sitting at the side of Jack Lodge himself at the table. The dinner went swimmingly. It was in a long, lofty room with the orchestra in a balcony at the end farthest from the table, obscured by a cloud of greenery. And along the table Jack Lodge looked up and down, delighted. It was one great flare of light of varying qualities, pure and mild upon the faces of the women, gathered in drops of diamond brilliance in the glasses, and This story began in the Argosy-Allstory Weekly for January 8. 367 comicbookks CO