A Lover's Quarrel, or Marion Marlowe's Deceitful Friend — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

18 Marion glanced at the clock on the mantel, and then moved quickly toward the door. “Til just go to Miss Fredericks’ door and - try again,” she Said, quietly. “It. is just pos- sible she had stepped out or was in the bath- room. This time she shall let me in, if she is in the apartment!” Mrs. Burnside smiled, but did not detain her; she was already deeply interested in the letter which she was writing to her darling. Marion walked swiftly down the hall, but her brain was in a tumult. She was so ex- cited over the discovery that her ‘desk had been opened that she had almost forgotten her usual calmness. Suddenly she checked her speed and took herself sharply to task. She was in no con- dition to measure weapons with Miss Fred- ericks. aN “IT must be calm!” she whispered to her- self. “So much depends upon this trifling Getail. If she stole those letters, there must have been a motive, and what else could it be but to copy Bert’s handwriting!” She had made a shrewd guess, and her beart beat wildly. Oh, if she could only prove the culprit’s guilt and establish Bert's innocence ! As she reached Miss Fredericks’ door she tapped upon it lightly, then bent her head to listen for any sound in the apartment. There was a rustle of skirts, and then the second door of the suite closed softly. It flashed through her head what Miss Fredericks had said about “exits,” but she had no time to withdraw, for the key was turning slowly. The next moment the door was opened and a coarse, vulgarly dressed woman stood before her, whom Marion knew instinctively must be Miss MeGillin. ————— -* CHAPTER IX. A PRISONER. In an instant the young girl knew exactly what had happened. Miss Fredericks had taken “French leave,’ for some reason of other. , The trunk was still standing exactly as she had seen it, but there was not a trace of the purple velvet costume to be seen in the apart- ment, MY QUEEN... _ zs ° For just a moment she was uncertain what course tO pursue, and, as she stood hesitat- ingly upon the threshold, the occupant of the room spoke to her politely. “Come in, miss, and take a chair. be back in a minute.” But Marion only looked at her absently, for her brain was in a tumult. She was wondering what she ought to do, and how far she could believe this woman. , She'll “Do come in, miss,” entreated the woman, again, this time actually taking Marion by the arm to lead her forward. “No, I will not wait,” began Marion, who had come to her senses at last. “I can come in again later.” a . She turned to leave the room, but the woman was before her. In a second she had squeezed her coarse form between Marion and the door, and after turning the key in the lock, calmly extracted it and put it in her pocket. : | “There, you little spy! Now I guess you'll stay!’ she remarked with. a coarse laugh. “You thought you were going to catch her, didn’t you? ~Well, you'll have to be lots smarter than you are now before you catch that darling!” . | Marion was pale with rage, but she was angry at herself principally. Why had she been so stupid as not to see through this woman ? For just a second she was tempted to fly at. the woman and wrest the key from her 'grasp; then, as she realized her superior strength, she thought better of it. There were a bottle and two glasses standing on the table, and, as Marion saw them, she suddenly thought of something. She would be crafty for once, in order to ac- complish a justifiable purpose. One thought flitted through her head be- fore she could decide what to do, and that thought was simply that she was an excellent actress, and here was an opportunity to dem- onstrate her talent. (Of course she could scream and some one would let her out, but another glance at the bottle sha@wed her a plan that was better. Almost while the woman was speaking she — smiled up into her face, and,then, as Miss comiicbooks.com .