Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

DINNER FOR CYNTHIA. this conceit as she sped down into the sub- way. 3 She was smiling still when she emerged from the subway and burried on. Whatever the young man’s failings, his people surely lived in a nice part of New York. With upper Fifth Avenue and Cen- tral Park at the far end of the block, these big houses were the homes of distinctly substantial citizens. Rather fervently, the prettier Miss Blair thanked her stars that she had made herself extremely presentable that evening for Billy’s benefit—thanked them, too, that this particular crisis had not come six months later. Just now, since the wardrobe matter had taken a rather stag- gering bite out of their funds when first they came to town, both Miss Blairs were, in a limited way, very well dressed young women. What they would be in another half year, unless something delightful hap- pened to their finances, was another matter altogether. But for to-night Cynthia was impeccable. And this rather vast, old-fashioned house of sandstone must be the Ronalds home. Cynthia’s eyes opened as she looked it up and down; her heart beat a little faster as she ascended the five steps; there *was a very curious moment wherein plain terror swept down upon Cynthia and the impulse to flee became so strong that she all but gathered up coat and skirt and tore madly down the block. But that passed.as swiftly as it had ar- rived—and Cynthia pressed the button. And it wouldn’t do to stand like this, staring at the door as if she expected an ogre to pounce out, would it? Cynthia Blair re- laxed and turned to examine the aristocratic block with a languid eye, with just the sort of bored and uninterested eye that be- longed to that particular block. Well, they weren’t so frightfully high and mighty that they were above using taxicabs, were they? One of these unorna- mental but useful vehicles was just shriek- ing its way to a stop before the house next door; Cynthia regarded it quite annoyedly. And then Cynthia’s lips parted and all the languid effect vanished; she stared at the taxi now with the most intense interest; she stood, indeed, quite rigidly. For there 179 was something vastly familiar about the young man in evening clothes who was just paying his fare—something that grew more and more familiar as he skipped up the steps and jabbed blithely at the button of the house next door and then turned and looked at Cynthia and— “Why, B-b-billy!” Cynthia gasped. ““ W—what?” cried the young man, with exactly the same sort of gasp, and swayed forward and peered at her. ‘“ Is—that you, Cynthia?” “ It—yes! here?” “This is Morton’s house, of course,” said young Mr. Brander, and there was an edge to his tone. ‘‘ I—Cynthia, I thought that you were sitting home?” ‘* Well—yes, I—meant to do that, of course—” Miss Blair stammered. And now Mr. Brander came to the edge of his steps and peered the harder, and even in the poor illumination of the street lamp yards away, it was entirely plain that his well-favored countenance was radiating dumfounded suspicion. ‘““Tsn’t that Ronalds’s house?” he de- manded. ‘““It—oh, yes! Yes!” Cynthia admitted, with a strange cackling laugh. ‘“ Neville Ronalds lives there!” William added. “Do you know—Neville?” managed. | Mr. Brander glanced just once at- his door. Apparently, nobody had as yet ar- rived to open it, just as nobody had as yet arrived to open the door for Cynthia. ‘No, I’m proud to say, I don’t!” he hurled across the space between them. ‘But I know of him—and I see that you know him!” 3 “ But, Billy, I—” “IT don’t know what to make of it, Cynthia!” William stormed, in a furious undertone. “You never lied to me before— or I never caught you lying to me before! You’ve never even mentioned knowing those people—knowing that cur!” “ But Billy, I—I don’t! I—” “Then what are you—” William began and stopped short. One second he glanced toward the door, which was opening at last. I—what are you doing Cynthia Gomichooks