Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 4 (1925-04).djvu/82

Rh he letting that—that creature beguile him?”

It was so natural, that touch of woman’s jealousy. that I felt like smiling, but controlled my features by an effort.

“Owen Edwardes is a young man whom it would be hard to persuade into believing evil of any woman.” I told Portia thoughtfully.

“In other words. Owen is letting that woman fool him with her studied wiles? Oh. and I can do nothing, quite nothing! I am tied down, quite helplessly, by the respect I owe to Mr. Differdale’s memory!”

“Why, Portia, is it as bad as all that?” I said stupidly, as I saw her fling out clenched hands with a gesture of desperation.

She laughed shortly, recovering her poise as abruptly as she just had lost it.

“Yes, Aunt Sophie, it’s as bad as that,” she echoed. “I love him. I loved him from the time we first met. But—”

“You loved him, and yet let your wretched work come between you?” I exclaimed reproachfully. I may be an old maid, but I could not appreciate my niece’s strange attitude.

Portia turned her grave face upon me.

“You see, Aunt Sophie, you don’t entirely understand the nature of the work Mr. Differdale was doing. If you did, I’m sure you would have been the first to advise me to sacrifice even thing else in the world for just that.”

Her voice rang with earnestness, but I shook my head slowly. I had to admit that I couldn’t conceive of any work that would be so important as to be allowed to stand between two eminently suitable young people who cared for each other as I felt she and Owen cared.

“You see, you don’t understand,” Portia repeated insistently, “And then, later on, I married—and it was too late.”

“And now, you’re so particular to pay public respect to a man who wasn’t your husband, only your business partner, that you cannot even give Owen the satisfaction of some kind of an understanding, so that he won’t be on pins and needles during the months of your—widowhood!”

I suppose I did say that in a very nasty manner. I couldn’t help it. I was exasperated with Portia. But she did not seem angry at my words or my manner. Instead, she began fussing again with a tassel.

“I suppose I might do something like that,” she admitted.

I was jubilant.

“Of course, you know I cannot be seen with him in public for some time to come, and it wouldn’t be wise to have him calling here for a while yet,” she went on, musingly.

“You’re thinking of that old Differdale female, aren’t you? And your husband’s sister? And the rest of the Meadowlawn gossips? Shame on you, Portia Delorme!”

She laughed right out then.

“You’re an incorrigible matchmaker, aren’t you, Auntie? Well,” she added lightly, “we’ll see what can be done in the matter.”

“I’m going to bed,” I said shortly, rather disgusted at the indifferent way in which she seemed to take things. “You can stay here and laugh over that boy’s love, if you wish.”

“Aunt Sophie, I’ve got other things to do than sneer at the honest love of a man whom I—of whom I think as highly as I do of Owen. I’ve been sleeping this afternoon because I’ve work to do tonight, and it’s time now that I began it. Fu Sing is fixing me something to eat, and then—”

“You’re going to do that—that—?”

“Auntie, don’t you realize that Mr. Differdale was taken away just at the