Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

THE WOLFER. head and looked out of the window, down’ the canon of Beaver Street, the lighted buildings looming with a grandeur that was almost equal to the cafions he knew. He waited there till Philipse had finished, then watched him put on his overcoat and depart. ‘TI don’t think much of that fellow,” he told Sheila. ‘‘ Somehow, I wouldn’t trust him much more than I would a snake.” ‘““Mr. Philipse is very, very clever,” Sheila said after a second. ‘ He’s one of the best salesmen in the city.” ‘* Salesmen — yes — but if you’d have said best man, I should have doubted the worth of your city.” The girl laughed. She was busy fold- ing the letters, her .small, thin fingers moving with a rapidity that fascinated the watcher. ‘You are very frank, Mr. Bronson— most of you men who live out-of-doors are brutal about telling the truth.” “Why not? You see, nature is our real mistress; she never lies. I wonder if you’d think I was too. frank if I was to say that I like you a lot, and wanted you to go out to dinner with me.” The girl sent a quick look that went straight into Bronson’s eyes. For a min- ute their gaze was steady, and then the girl let her eyes rest on the mail she was folding. “IT don’t think I ought to go, Mr. Bronson. You see, I’ve only just met you, and I haven’t any one I could ask as a chaperon.”’ ‘Do they really have chaperons out- side of books?” Bronson inquired with an amused smile. ‘‘ Even if they do, I’d like just one dinner when there would be some one to talk with—that is, some one I’d like to talk with. I’m afraid I’m putting my invitation in a jumble of words—but I wish you’d eat with me.” Sheila laughed. “You speak as if you had been lone- some these past few days.” “Lonesome? I’d never thought of it in that light, but I guess that’s the 413 trouble. I’ve been hanging about with Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton—but they’re old, and they don’t hate the city. Why, lady, I can’t talk to you; I can’t seem to say what I want to; but, honest to goodness, I'll try to be a gentleman. I’ve never yet had to be ashamed of the way I treated a woman.’ Sheila believed him. ‘‘ You see, the real trouble is that if I were to go with you some one might think it odd.” “You mean they might think and say something wrong of you.” There was aggression.as well -as surprise in his tone. ‘Yes, just that.” ‘And you'd like to go—if it wasn’t for what might be said?” “T’d like to go—very, very much.: Ill be very truthful with you, Mr. Bronson, and say that your invitation is very tempting; and, what’s more, I’m going to accept.”’ “Fine!” He stepped forward, his face alight with boyish enthusiasm. “Yes—I’m going to let you call for me at seven o’clock. That ’ll give me half an hour to get home, and an hour to dress. If you'll have a taxi, I’ll wear my party gown and my lovely silver slippers. See, I’m just as enthusiastic as ‘can be, even if I have only known you a few hours.” Five minutes later she was giving Bronson the address, refusing to let him send her home in a taxi. While she had been putting on her hat she wondered why she had accepted the invitation; but Bronson was so much of a man, and Mr. Hamilton had truly introduced them, that, in spite of what she feared was her better judgment, she did not tell him that she had changed her mind. It was exactly seven when the maid announced that Mr. Bronson was calling, and should she let him wait in the parlor down-stairs, or should she bring him up to Sheila’s sitting-room. “ Bring him up, Nora—I’m going to let him see my green lamp-shade and the piece of rock that came off the Blarney stone.”’ | comicloool C©