Oh, Money! Money! Part 52

"Met him! Met who?"

"Mr. Fulton. She's TALKED with him! She wrote me all about it."

"OUR Mr. Fulton?"

"Yes."

"FLORA!" With a hasty twirl of a now reckless knife, Jane finished the last apple, set the pan on the before the maid, and hurried her visitor into the living-room. "Now, tell me quick--what did she say? Is he nice? Did she like him? Did he know she belonged to us?"

"Yes--yes--everything," nodded Miss Flora, sinking into a chair. "She liked him real well, she said and he knows all about that she belongs to us. She said he was real interested in us. Oh, I hope she didn't tell him about--Fred!"

"And that awful gold-mine stock," moaned Jane. "But she wouldn't--I know she wouldn't!"

"Of course she wouldn't," cried Miss Flora. "'Tisn't like Maggie one bit! She'd only tell the nice things, I'm sure. And, of course, she'd tell him how pleased we were with the money!"

"Yes, of course, of course. And to think she's met him--really met him!" breathed Jane. "Mellicent!" She turned an excited face to her daughter, who had just entered the room. "What do you think? Aunt Flora's just had a letter from Aunt Maggie, and she's met Mr.

Fulton--actually TALKED with him!"

"Really? Oh, how perfectly splendid! Is he nice? Did she like him?"

Miss Flora laughed.

"That's just what your mother asked. Yes, he's real nice, your Aunt Maggie says, and she likes him very much."

"But how'd she do it? How'd she happen to meet him?" demanded Jane.

"Well, it seems he knew Mr. Tyndall, and Mr. Tyndall brought him home one night and introduced him to his wife and Maggie; and since then he's been very nice to them. He's taken them out in his automobile, and taken them to the theater twice."

"That's because she belongs to us, of course," nodded Jane wisely.

"Yes, I suppose so," agreed Flora. "And I think it's very kind of him."

"Pooh!" sniffed Mellicent airily. "_I_ think he does it because he WANTS to. You never did appreciate Aunt Maggie. I'll warrant she's nicer and sweeter and--and, yes, PRETTIER than lots of those old Chicago women. Aunt Maggie looked positively HANDSOME that day she left here last July. She looked so--so absolutely happy! Probably he LIKES to take her to places. Anyhow, I'm glad she's having one good time before she dies."

"Yes, so am I, my dear. We all are," sighed Miss Flora. "Poor Maggie!"

"I only wish he'd marry her and--and give her a good time all her life," avowed Mellicent, lifting her chin.

"Marry her!" exclaimed two scornful voices.

"Well, why not? She's good enough for him," bridled Mellicent. "Aunt Maggie's good enough for anybody!"

"Of course she is, child!" laughed Miss Flora. "Maggie's a saint--if ever there was one."

"Yes, but I shouldn't call her a MARRYING saint," smiled Jane.

"Well, I don't know about that," frowned Miss Flora thoughtfully.

"Hattie always declared there'd be a match between her and Mr. Smith, you know."

"Yes. But there wasn't one, was there?" twitted Jane. "Well, then, I shall stick to my original statement that Maggie Duff is a saint, all right, but not a marrying one--unless some one marries her now for her money, of course."

"As if Aunt Maggie'd stand for that!" scoffed Mellicent. "Besides, she wouldn't have to! Aunt Maggie's good enough to be married for herself."

"There, there, child, just because you are a love-sick little piece of romance just now, you needn't think everybody else is," her mother reproved her a little sharply.

But Mellicent only laughed merrily as she disappeared into her own room.

"Speaking of Mr. Smith, I wonder where he is, and if he'll ever come back here," mused Miss Flora, aloud. "I wish he would. He was a very nice man, and I liked him."

"Goodness, Flora, YOU aren't, getting romantic, too, are you?" teased her sister-in-law.

"Nonsense, Jane!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Miss Flora sharply, b.u.t.toning up her coat.

"I'm no more romantic than--than poor Maggie herself is!"

Two weeks later, to a day, came Miss Maggie's letter announcing her engagement to Mr. Stanley G. Fulton, and saying that she was to be married in Chicago before Christmas.

CHAPTER XXVI

REENTER MR. STANLEY G. FULTON

In the library of Mrs. Thomas Tyndall's Chicago home Mr. Stanley G.

Fulton was impatiently awaiting the appearance of Miss Maggie Duff. In a minute she came in, looking charmingly youthful in her new, well-fitting frock.

The man, quickly on his feet at her entrance, gave her a lover's ardent kiss; but almost instantly he held her off at arms' length.

"Why, dearest, what's the matter?" he demanded.

"W-what do you mean?"

"You look as if--if something had happened--not exactly a bad something, but--What is it?"

Miss Maggie laughed softly.

"That's one of the very nicest things about you, Mr.

Stanley-G.-Fulton-John-Smith," she sighed, nestling comfortably into the curve of his arm, as they sat down on the divan;--"that you NOTICE things so.. And it seems so good to me to have somebody--NOTICE."

"Poor lonely little woman! And to think of all these years I've wasted!"

"Oh, but I shan't be lonely any more now. And, listen--I'll tell you what made me look so funny. I've had a letter from Flora. You know I wrote them--about my coming marriage."

"Yes, yes," eagerly. "Well, what did they say?"

Miss Maggie laughed again.