Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

DINNER FOR CYNTHIA. way things had been happening ever since they came to New York—you fancied that you had this or that in your grasp and, lo! it wasn’t there at all. Only Billy remained constantly glorious and real— And after coming on this idiotic adventure and meet- ing him so unexpectedly and rousing him as she had, even Billy might vanish! _ Briefly, Cynthia shuddered and turned cold. Further, she had expended a precious nickel in transportation and another would have to go to taking her home, for Cynthia no longer had the strength for walking. And the long and the short of ¢/at was that to-morrow, or at the very latest the day after, the ambitious cousins would do one of two ghastly things. Either they’d aban- don their careers, admit that they were in- capable of self-support and wire home for railroad fare, or one of them would make her initial visit to a pawnshop. Not, be it said, that there was so very much to be pawned, unless they took their actual clothes. There was Nora’s gold ring and the old jeweled watch that had been her mother’s; she’d never part with that watch, though. And there was the beautiful little timepiece on Cynthia’s wrist; that would be the first thing in all proba- bility to go. When they’d spent the pro- ceeds from that— “or Neville may have thought so,” Mrs. Ronalds seemed to be babbling along, as the furniture settled down and the fog began to clear. ‘ Indeed, don’t you think it was that?” “‘J—-yes, I think it must have been!” Cynthia agreed dizzily. “ Really, 1 must go now, though.” “Oh, but I thought you were to help me think back?” ‘“‘ We all make mistakes,”’ Miss Blair said enigmatically. ** And—and that means?” ‘“ Doesn’t mean much of anything, I—” Cynthia was beginning drearily, as she turned toward the door. More than that she did not say just then, for the door was opening and her eyes were growing round. Cynthia was gazing upon one of the most impressive women she had ever seen—a broad and heavily built lady, with hawk eyes and strong features who 185 glanced at her for one flitting instant and then glowered at Mrs. Ronalds with: ‘“ Not getting very far, I take it? Where’ the woman?” “And who’s tis?’” Mrs. Stone inquired very bluntly, and looked quite fixedly at Cynthia. ‘““Why, that—that is Miss Blair!” “ Miss—what?” demanded the elder lady. ‘“ This girl?” Yea “This is the girl Neville’s set on marry- ing?” “Oh, no,” Cynthia smiled, wearily. ** ‘You see—”’ “This girl?” Jane Stone said, even again; and her astonishing eyes began at Cynthia’s feet and moved slowly upward. An uncanny change came over the lady as she did this, too; light reached her rather forbidding countenance and her eyes sparkled. “Why, that’s not possible! That—well, by the piper that played before Moses!” Mrs. Stone concluded, loudly. “ Her hair’s not bobbed!” Cynthia merely nodded, with another weak little smile. This elderly lady, so far as one could judge by externals, seemed to be quite a personality; at another time and in a happier frame of mind, she would have interested Cynthia immensely; just at pres- ent, however, the sense of complete defeat was so strong that she yearned only to flee —to get out into the dark street and be alone. ‘““My mother, Mrs. Stone, Miss Blair,” Cornelia murmured. Mrs. Stone, with one emphatic bob of her head, advanced quickly, with the relentless effect that Cynthia noted with an unac- countable little shiver, and with one hand outstretched. “Tm mighty glad to know you, honey!” she said heartily, and gripped Cynthia’s little pink paw. ‘Almighty glad, by crickey! Upon my soul, I never suspected that Neville even knew a girl like you!” “ Well, he—”’ “Yes!” cried Mrs. Ronalds, bridling in- stantly. ‘ You’ve always made a point of believing that the girls Neville likes—”’ _ “ Pye seen one or two of ’em, haven’t I?” Gomichbooks: (GO)