Marion Marlowe in St. Louis, or, A Forger's Bold Deed — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

8 MY QUEEN. ~ “Pshaw! I'll put it back as soon as his joblots Bets the hang of the chirography,” said Lou; “and it isn’t going to hurt her any tc have me read it.” “I wonder if she is in love with the doc- tor, anyway,’ said Mabel, thoughtfully. ““She’s never injured me, and, if she is really in love with him——~” “Good gracious, Mab, what a gibbering idiot you are! What the mischief do you care about her feelings?” cried Lou, angrily. “Isn’t that young doctor rich, and isn’t he handsome! other chance like this in a lifetime. But I understand you, Mab; you were gone on the kid, and now that you find he was brought up in a poorhouse, you promptly lose inter- est!” She was so indignant over her friend’s words that she singed her hair with the curl- ing tongs, and a profane exclamation broke from her lips involuntarily. “Look out, Lou! Better not let Miss Mar- lowe hear you use language like that,” warned her friend; “she’d have you fired from the company in a minute!” “Good land! This ain’t a Sunday-school, is it, Mab?” retorted Lou. “I’ve been on the stage a good long time, Miss Maitland, and not a man, woman or child has ever objected to my swearing.” “Well, I’d go easy,” said Mabel, with a cautious shake of her head. “That Miss El- lis, the ingénue, is right next door, and Mrs. 3urnside and her little girl are on the other side. They'd tell, and that would settle it, in my opinion!” | “Oh, I suppose you are right,” said Lou, lowering her voice; then she tiptoed to the door and listened a minute. “She is in there—Miss Marlowe,” she said, “T just heard her asking Miss | do hope I can ‘in a whisper. Ellis for a piece of paper. vet in her dressing-room some time during rehearsal; the sooner I get that letter the bet- ter.” “There’s the Mabel, heard the stage manager’s voice. “Hurry up, Lou. Oh, no you needn't! There’s no fin- ing in this company.” “T ouess I'll go just the same,” for the door. “My game must be to eall,”’ cried as she said lou, starting Why, you might never have an- make them think I’m an angel; then they won't suspect me when things begin to buzz! I'd be better off if | had your bump of cau- tion, Mabbie!” “All ready, girls?’ called out a pleasant voice, as Mrs. Burnside, the “first old lady,” as she was called, left her dressing-room lead- ing her talented little daughter. “Oh, what a dear, cunning little girl!’ cried Lou, as she caught sight of Ruby. “I do love children so dearly, don’t you, Mrs. Burnside? Really, I dote on children! They are the only things that make me happy!” She winked at Mabel over her shoulder, but Mrs. Burnside was delighted. She al- ways felt pleased with any one who spoke kindly of her darling. Marion Marlowe stepped out of her dress- ing-room just then, and, as the door was wide open, Lou gave a quick glance inside. “Oh, Miss Marlowe! How perfectly sweet vou look in that hat,” she said, gushingly. “I always did admire that shade of blue on chestnut hair! Why, your taste is divine! It is distinctly Parisian !” | Marion gazed at her wonderingly. She was not used to such open compliments ex- cept when they came from the lips of Miss Ellis, “T am glad you like it. pretty,” she said, simply. “But, of course my taste cannot be Parisian, for I have never been to Paris—in fact, it is only a short time ago that | came from the country.” ‘Dear me! I should never have dreamed of it,’ cried Lou, as she followed Marion down the stairs. “Why, I was just saying to Miss Maitland that I did not wonder Mr. Jackson loved you. A face like yours@yould turn the head of any man, much more of sucha young man as Mr. Jackson.” Marion smiled with amusement, but she was still staring a little. “Bert loved me quite as well in homespun as he does in silk,” she said, sweetly. “You know, we were neighbors when we were little, and lived in the country, Miss Leland! Why, we used to roam around the hills barefooted together. They had reached the wings now, and there was no time to reply, but Lou Leland was satisfied that her cause was progressing. I thought it was Eomicbooks.com