Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

DINNER FOR CYNTHIA. decent girl before his mother harries me into the madhouse, and when I make up- my mind things happen! You're the de- centest thing I’ve seen in years, and I’m going to keep you here till Neville gets home and the whole thing’s settled!” “Oh, but you’re not!” Cynthia laughed, quite superciliously. She was very much herself again. “Oh, but I am,” Neville’s grandmother corrected, in the same steady tone. “ Be- cause just as soon as you try leaving here, my dear, I’m going to turn you over to the police. And then I’m going to push the case just as far as it "ll go—and three very credible witnesses will have to swear that my pin really was found in your pocket, remember. It will mean a term of years in prison, and nasty notoriety that ‘ll follow you to the grave and wreck your whole life. Whether you’re inclined to go through with all that for the sake of some fool promise I can’t say, of course. Are you or—er— are you not?” the lady concluded politely. Thrice Cynthia Blair exerted all her forces toward dragging herself out of the nightmare — toward throwing back her shoulders and raising her righteous voice and blasting the creature before her. Yet she could no more than shrink back a little farther. - © Oh!” she breathed. ‘‘ Oh, I couldn’t have believed that—that a thing like this could happen!” She was now much less herself. “So there-you are, and the choice is all yours,” the elder lady chuckled comfort- ably, and relaxed. ‘“ Who’s boss here now, Cynthia?” “ You—you are!” the victim faltered. “ And you see your way to obliging an old woman who has been pestered beyond human endurance? ‘That’s much better, my dear. We'll consider the unfortunate episode forgotten, Cynthia. I shall never mention it. I desire that you do not men- tion it, either.” “ But—” “No ‘buts’ about it! ‘You mention it —and I'll see it through! I swear I will! These things travel, and they grow from a murmur to a roar while they’re traveling! D’ye suppose I want people whispering that my grandson’s wife is a crook? It’s ~ not to be mentioned!” “But some day I shall have to ex- plain—” Cynthia began wildly. “Any explaining that has to be done, I'll do myself,’ Mrs. Stone said, very de- cidedly. ‘So now we understand each other. Will you shake hands, my dear?” “T will not!” said Cynthia; and brave as her voice was for an instant, it took to trembling again. ‘‘Won’t—won’t you please let me go now?” she pleaded. “I give you my word of honor that I’ll come back whenever you want me—I will, whether you send for me at noon or at three in the morning, I’ll come instantly!” — Yes, and at last she seemed to be making an impression! There was a sane, ordinary, human streak in the old lady, after all; she was frowning pensively and, quite visibly, considering the matter. And she was weakening just as visibly. Cynthia’s heart thudded sud- denly with a great, wild hope—and at about the third thud, Mrs. Stone shook her head. “Too much of a chance to take!” she announced, with much finality. “Oh, I know—I know. Yourre a terribly conven- tional little soul, and all this seems abnor- mal to you. Maybe it is, but it’s sheer ne- cessity for me. You don’t know what I’ve suffered or how I’ve longed to see that brat tied securely to a girl just like you. Your word of honor’s probably all right, but you might be hit by an automobile or—” “But I'd be so careful!” Cynthia pro- tested, quiveringly. “No use! You’re here, and here you stay till I see with my own eyes that this little romance has been nailed down tight! Stop waving vour hands and being ridicu- lous, will you? If you’re in an unusual situation, it’s solely because you drove me to putting you there and—well, bawl a while, then,” Mrs. Stone grunted resigned- ly, as Cynthia’s head dropped to her hands. “* Maybe you’ll feel better.” She hummed a cheery little tune while Cynthia wept—and wept and presently did. not weep so violently, for the humming had ceased and a great conviction was begin- ning to steal into Cynthia: she was awak- ening now! She was about to sit up in oO S (S@) Eomichoo