Marion Marlowe in Society, or, A Race for a Title — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

” flawless pedigree, but a goodly sum of ‘money! There is no girl in my country who interests me a jot—for, in spite of my inher- -jtance, I refusé to marry and be miserable. ~ Miss Rushlyn attracted rhe until—until I met you, Marion. Now, I love you, do you un- derstand? I love you, Marion, yet | cannot _ say the words that | long to say. { cannot ask you to marry me because of my family !” _ There was no chance for so much as a word when he finished, for, before Marion could catch her breath, Lord Curry had s ea] ushed from her presence. | . . CHAPTER XIL foe eae AC OTD RPT 4 “Honest, to say the least!” _ Marion spoke the words aloud, then, as - soon as she could collect her wits, she burst — out laughing. | _ “What was it, Marion—a proposal?” asked _ Mrs. Stetson, as she opened the door softly ee closed it behind her. | er eyes twinkling with mischief. “I have been reftised, my dear Mrs. Stetson, and be- oo. 2 have so much as stated my inten- tions _ “For Heaven’s sake, tell me all about it, _ child!” urged the lady, dismayed, as she drew _ Marion down beside her upon the sofa. _ The young girl repeated every word ex- rc: ctly as the young man had uttered them, _ and, as she finished, she was surprised to _ hear Mrs. Stetson sigh deeply. “Poor fellow! I do pity him, Marion,” _ She said, quietly. “As I told you before, it _ is ‘bred in the bone.’ Lord Curry is a fine _ fellow, but his exalted station will be the _ death of him.” ___ It did not occur to the lady that her words _ were ominous—it was only a figure of speech _ that she was uttering, but, as has happened _ before, the meaning proved literal. __ “I have less patience with that sort of _ thing than you have, I guess,” said Marion, _ soberly; “but when a man seeks a bride for _ her money it disgusts me—and to think that 1am not as worthy of his honor as either _ Miss Glenham or Miss Rushlyn!” _ There was a flash of pride in the wide, Stay eyes as, just for once, Marion’s temper got the better of her. | __ He knows that you are—in his soul,” said Mrs. Stetson, quickly; “and if he had his _ Way he would marry you to-morrow. He loves you with all the strength of his nature —only his love for rank and wealth is great- er. He inherits that from generations, while he doesn’t the other.” — MY QUEEN. _ “Far from it!” cried the young girl, with: 23 “Well, his affection would never have had much weight with me, anyway, so it doesn't make any difference,” said the fair girl, more calmly ; “still one would have thought that he would have jumped at your offer, Mrs. Stetson! Is it possible that he hasn’t seen that paragraph in the paper!” A shrewd look settled in the society lead- er's eyes. , “Tf he saw it, he understood it,’ she an- swered, very calmly. “ord Curry has sénse enough to know he would never win my approval.” Marion looked up quickly, with a little stare in her eyes. , “So you did really mean that for the Duke?” she questioned, eagerly. ‘““You do actually intend that I shall be a Duchess ?” “I do, indeed,” was the lady’s prompt an- swer; “but, remember, I shall never try to force you, Marion! Heaven knows, I despise a ‘money match’ above all things! 1 made one myself, and I have tested them, I assure you! If vou can care for the Duke, marry him, by all means. If you can’t, why, throw him over, but not until you have won the coronet, figuratively speaking, and can toss it in disdain into Maude Rushlyn’s lap. It will be a triumph for me that will be well worth having.” | “You do not like Maude Rushlyn,” said Marion, slowly. Mrs. Stetson rose, but did not answer. “A title is a grand thing to possess and I would dearly like to own one,” went on the young girl, thoughtfully; “but the Duke is ugly and anything but an ideal lover. He is not half as attractive as Lord Curry, even, and | know other gentlemen. who are far more noble than either.” Marion was thinking of Mr. Ray and Dr. Brookes as she spoke, but, as it happened, Mrs. Stetson was too deep in her own thoughts to ask any questions. “A tea at the Glenhams,” said Mrs. Stet- son, absently, as she picked up a crested en- velope that lay on the table. “By the way, dear, Regie Brookes will be there, I think. I shall be glad to have you meet him,” said she, quickly, Marion stepped back a bit and smiled sweetly at her hostess. “Another little secret that I must tell you, dear Mrs. Stetson,’ she said, gayly. “Dr. Brookes and I are the dearest of friends. Can you blame me for not being desperately smitten with either the Duke or Lord Curry ?” Mrs. Stetson laughed, but she glanced at Marion sharply. “Your friends are men to be proud of,” she said, quietly; “that is, if they are all like the doctor and Bert Jackson.” EO OO) AUUC SaCO