Marion Marlowe in Indianapolis — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

No one else in the company knew the ingénue’s secret except the star, but it was only too true that Miss Ellis really loved Bert, and the young man's indifference had f eaused her much sorrow. As soon as she could, Marion managed to change the subject, and Bert rose from his knees, eyeing his dusty trousers ruefully. “Well, I did my best, anyway,” he said, % with a sigh. “She can’t say again that no man has declared himself. Why, the idea of her saying I am not a man! I’m as» old as she is, and she calls herself a woman 1”? “That’s a unique argument,” said Dr. Brookes, patting him on the shoulder; “but tell me, Bert, how did you get rid of the masher, and what is your honest opinion of the fellow?” | Bert came back to his sober senses prompt- ly at the question, but he. waited until the three girls had gone to their dressing-rooms before he answered. “T hardly know what to make of him,” he “He told me he saw Mar- ion pass in a carriage, and that her face im- said, very soberly. pressed him; so he had to come here and find out all about her. Of course, he knew who she was from seeing our lithographs, but that wasn’t enough—he wanted her history.” “Which he got, after your own weird and wonderful fashion of telling,’ laughed the doctor. “There’s no use, Bert, you are a dandy at telling a story! I thought I would burst when you described her old father.” “Well, I wanted to make a marked con- trast between her life on the farm and her present surroundings,” explained Bert, eager- ly. “You see, that chap may be a writer or irom a paper or something, and I wanted to make the story startling as well as pathetic. All pathetic stories have a stern or irate father, you know,” he went on, loftily; “and, of course my story could not be an exception. ° ‘There wasn’t any harm in mentfoning Hick- MY QUEEN. Pasa orytown, was there, doc, or of mentioning the names of two or three of those old hay- seeds who were Marion’s neighbors g* “Not the slightest, my boy! And you made a good story, I assure you! If I had vour knack of narrating yarns, I'd give up the practice of medicine and go into fiction,” laughed the doctor. Bert laid his hand on the “leading man’s” shoulder and looked him squarely in the eye. “Vou are a Jack at all trades, doc, and mas- — ter of them all as well! earth that you couldn’t do! All you need is an incentive, and that incentive is Marion There’s nothing on Marlowe!" The young physician blushed like a girl, but he stared back at Bert with a smile in his eyes as he answered: Pe “Better shake, my boy! You are cttt on We are both in the same boat, but we’ll pull squarely, eh, Jackson?” the same pattern! CHAPTER IV. A STRANGE PROCEEDING. The auditorium of the opera house was not over well filled when the curtain rose for the evening performance. Mr. Temple, the manager and proprietor, looked over the house carefully and his brow darkened a lit- tle, for he had hoped for better business. “The boxes are well filled,” whispered one of the ushers in his ear. “It’s seldom we see as many folks as that in those chairs. That'll help the receipts a little, Mr. Temple.” The manager nodded, and glanced at the boxes. As he did so, he noticed something that striick him as being singular. The upper boxes were well filled, as the usher had said, but the two lower boxes, one on each side of the house, were entirely empty, with the exception of a solitary gentle- man in each, who entered just as he glanced at them. > COMICLOOKS. COM