Marion Marlowe in Buffalo, or, Betrayed by a Rival Company — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

As she leaned toward him on the stairs, her great gray eyes were luminous with excite- - ment and her cheeks were like roses. ‘Miss Marlowe—Marion!” he whispered, almost unconsciously. The next instant a great wave of love for the brave girl seemed suddenly to overcome him. With an im- pulse that he could not control he touched his lips to her forehead. 7 Marion lifted her head quickly, but she did - not speak. His actions had confused her; but she understood it perfectly. _ “They’re completely demoralized at the Palace,” called out Dr. Brookes at that mo- ment. ‘They say that Rose is missing and _ Rippel half crazy; and they say also that Miss Marlowe has queered them. Do you know | — Hinton ?” “Come up here and I'll tell you!” called out B atasion, softly. _ The doctor sprang up the stairs and pushed by the manager. The next second he had _ Marion in his arms and was kissing her ten- derly, An ugly light flashed across the manager’s face. He descended the stairs without a _ word, but with the anger still upon his feat- ures. It was no news to him that Dr. Brookes loved Marion, but it came to him now with a ~ tenfold bitterness ; for he had only learned in the past hour how deeply he loved her him- _ self. When he thought her dead the grief : had nearly killed him. When he found her alive and safe his heart seemed to leap with- in him. To him she had suddenly become _ the one woman in the world, and, as he went back to “the front,” he vowed that no one Should take her from him.” _. Yet in his agony of the moment he could hardly blame the doctor. No doubt his anx- -iety over Marion had nearly maddened him, and the tender caress was born of uncontroll- able happiness. __ The orchestra had started now, and still the people flocked in. They had become satisfied at last at which theatre they would find the _ attraction. As Mr. Temple lingered in the lobby he earned other reasons for this sudden decision onthe part of the public, but the last seat in od gael had been sold before he fully un- =. . a ‘ MY QUEEN. “Some one started the story that she was in that boat,” explained the ticket man, as he closed his window at last and came out in the lobby. “T don’t know who did it, but I think it was Jones. He’s been locked up in the station- house for several hours—did you know that, Mr. Temple?” The manager started as though he had been shot. He had entirely forgotten that there was such a fellow in creation. “Then who is playing his part?” he asked, with a feeling of dismay. “Oh, Miss Marlowe fixed that,” was the astonishing answer. “As soon as the stage- manager told her, she corralled another vil- lain—the stage-manager himself, if you please, Mr. Temple!” ; “Great Lucifer! Can he act?” was the as- tonished ejaculation. “Who couldn’t act with Miss Marlowe to coach him?” retorted the man. “Why, I was tempted to go on myself. I would, if she had asked me!” “Thank the Fates she didn’t!’ said Mr. Temple. “Deering will be bad enough, but you would have queered us entirely.” There was a thunder of applause now, so he went into the auditorium again, standing away back in the rear, whére he could look over his audience. Marion Marlowe was before thé footlights, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her, and, as the applause died’ out, she sud- denly addressed the audience. “IT am Marion Marlowe,” she said, very simply. “My name has been bandied about so much to-day that it is only fair that I should tell you. There is no other actress at the present day who bears my name that I know of; but there is one young lady who imitates me, I believe, and her managers have been pleased to call her Marion Marlowe.” There was another outburst of applause as the young girl paused, and then, with a grace- ful gesture, she begged them to be silent. “There is something that I am sure will interest you,” she said, soberly. “Perhaps you read on the bulletin outside that I knew the “Tragedy of the Rapids.’ Well, I do, or so far, perhaps, as it wiles he kysyvescebrato