Marion Marlowe in Society, or, A Race for a Title — page 15: what you’re looking at

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12 such a prize. No country girl living could help considering it. CHAPTER VI. MRS. STETSON’S ANNOUNCEMENT. The day before the party Marion and Mrs. Stetson were together, taking a last careful look at the young girl’s costume for the evening. Marion’s eyes had dilated when she first saw the beautiful white satin dress which her hostess had insisted upon ordering for her. “You will look like an angel in that, Ma- rion,’ said Mrs. Stetson, as she examined the costly garment critically ; “and won’t your modest little “V’ neck cause a_ sensation among our guests! They'll think you are a prude of the very first water.” — “Well, I shall not say what I[ think of them,” said Marion, laughing; “but, if it is considered proper to show one’s shoulders, I’ll be improper for some time, I fancy.” Mrs. Stetson laughed, and just then a maid handed in some letters. “Mr. Ray will not come to-morrow night,” she said, quietly, as she glanced over one of them; “he is in mourning, poor fellow, and is not going out at all.” Marion bit her lips to keep from speaking. | This was a disappointment to her, for she had hoped to see her old friend. “And, dear me, this is too bad,’ went on Mrs. Stetson; “Regie Brookes, one of the most charming young men that I know, has disappointed me. He is a practicing physi- cian and will be too busy to come,—some Ppa- tient is so ill that he refuses to leave her.” Again Marion felt a pang of disappoint- ment, for she had depended on her old friends to help her feel at home in her new experience, but now it looked as if she were doomed to an evening with total strangers. “Oh, by the way, dear,” said Mrs, Stetson, as if she had just happened suddenly to think of something: “There’s a young man in town who be- longs in our set,—the adopted son of one of my old friends. I have half a notion to send invitation, want him hut just to please his father.” asked Marion, indifferently, him an not because | especially, “Who is he?” MY QUEEN. as she examined a beautiful fan that Mrs. Stetson had given her. “Albert Canfield Jackson, I believe, is his name,” was Mrs, Stetson’s prompt answer. ‘He was a poor orphan boy when see Canfield adopted him.” Marion Marlowe nearly dropped the fan which she held in her hand, but Mrs. Stet- son’s back was toward her and that lady did not notice her confusion. ‘““He’s rather young,” she went on; “but that doesn’t matter,—I am told that he looks nearer twenty than eighteen, and he has just been abroad, so I fancy he will be entertain- ing.” - “T fancy he will,” murmured Marion, in_a strange voice; then she put her handkerchief to her face to conceal how her lips were twitching. “No doubt he will be conceited and all that sort of thing,” continued Mrs. Stetson, calm- ly; “boys of that age usually are, but if he is, he will do splendidly for Ada Farnham to flirt with, and I hadn’t succeeded in pairing off that young lady.” : “Do you always do that?” asked Marion, curiously ; “if you do, why not turn Bert over to my tender mercies?” Mrs. Stetson wheeled around and con- fronted her with a stare. “As if I would allow you to take second place,” she said, quickly; “Lord Curry will | probably look after you, Marion, but how does it happen that you speak so familiarly of young Canfield Jackson?” Marion bit her lips and then burst out laughing. “Bert Jackson and I ah been friends for years,” she said, honestly. “Why, we came from the same place up in Connecticut,— Hickorytown.” “You don’t say so!” This was all that Mrs. Stetson could say, so Marion paste to tell her the whole story. “Tt will seem too funny for anything to meet Bert here,” she finished, laughingly; “but everything seems funny nowadays, Mrs. : Stetson.” “Listen to me, Marion,” said her hostess, firmly. this young Jackson. It will help me greatly (e(o) ,OOKS Anite (ele) “You must not show that you know — mm