The Weber Literary Journal A Party for Two Harold Roylance ARDNER BRENT, being in many ways a normal young American, accepted the belief that feminine enjoyment of entertainment is proportional to the wincing of the masculine pocketbook. He wished Cynthia to enjoy herself. That is the reason that he took her to the most expensive restaurant in town. From the top of her hat, to her shoes, Cynthia Marsh was pleasant to look at. Gardner did not notice her shoes, nor could he describe her hat, the reason being that it set right above two of the best eyes he had ever seen. Cynthia's choice of a nose, too, showed admirable selective qualities, and words fail to describe her mouth. As you have already seen, Gardner can hardly be blamed for inflicting a bit of agony on his already haggard pocketbook. And though Cynthia had objected when they met, Gardner's manner had been masterful in persuading her, and a little royal when he slipped a bill to the taxi driver, waving aside all offers of change with indifference. Immediately they entered, the head waiter led them to a table, snatched a "reserve" sign from it and gathered about them a flurry of waiters. "Compared to our entrance here General Pershing's homecoming was a frost," said Gardner; "what'll we eat?" "Honestly I oughtn't to eat a thing," said Cynthia. "Nonsense," said Gardner, "you must," and turning to the waiter he gave his order. As he gave the order he thanked providence that he had fifteen dollars in his pocketbook. He emerged from his congratulations to find that Cynthia was talking. He had no idea what it was about except in a general way it was shopping. Things were just as they should be. He was having a very good time. The crowd was smart, some of the women were nearly as easy to look at as Cynthia. He had known Cynthia for only a short time, but long enough 22 The Weber Literary Journal to know that she was the only girl. He had not brought her to this particular place to impress her but to entertain her. That he found himself short of funds was because he was a victim of two systems, his firm's of paying once a month, and his own of paying as he went. As the waiter served the salad and the fat man at the next table paid his bill, Gardner experienced one of the most ghastly frights of his young life. He lowered his fork and reached cautiously toward the pocket where he kept his money. He managed to undo his pocketbook without attracting attention and count his money. It was as he thought. He had given the taxi driver a ten dollar bill instead of a one. He had exactly five dollars now and five dollars had about as much chance in these surroundings as a reputation at a sewing circle. The horrible outcome of his predicament flashed before his vision. When the waiter presented his check he would have to call the head waiter. Then there would follow a scene with the manager who would be polite but very firm. At all costs, he decided, Cynthia must not know. She would consider him in a class with the jay out to buy the town on a dollar sixty-five. "Gardner!" exclaimed Cynthia, "what is the matter? You look ill." With a mighty effort he managed to rouse himself. "Nothing, nothing at all," he lied. "That is," he continued, "I just thought of something, some very valuable papers. Left them on my desk at the office with the windows open. Am afraid the wind will blow them on the floor and the janitor sweep 'em up." "Oh!" said Cynthia. "Very valuable," he went on, "and if you'll pardon me for a moment I'll run over to the office and make sure." Then he added, "I hate to leave you though." "Don't mind me," said Cynthia, "I'll be all right." He arose and with a look great business men are supposed to have when thinking about big deals, hurried towards the door. When he reached the street he hurried toward the office, the one place which promised financial reinforcement. It was Sat- 23