Marion Marlowe in St. Louis, or, A Forger's Bold Deed — page 22: what you’re looking at

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20 he gave her a broad smile. “My dear Lou, I never dreamed of being allowed such a favor as that. Why, really, you make me feel that you think something of me!” “Why shouldn’t I, Bert? You are such a handsome young man! Now, don’t think that is flattery; it’s just the gospel truth! I wouldn't dream of saying such a thing if I didn’t mean it.”’ “I’m sure you wouldn't,” replied Bert, promptly; then it suddenly occurred to him to do a little pumping. “You pretty actresses are so deceitful,” he bean, with great apparent seriousness. “You make a fellow think that he is the only man in the world, when perhaps you have a dozen or so lovers in every city you play in.” “Oh, Mr. Jackson! How dreadful! Why, I have never had a lover!” cried the girl, with a simper. “I’m not like Marion Mar- lowe ; she’s had scores, they tell me! I’m just a poor little girl that nobody loves; and, oh, it is so dreadful to be nobody’s sweetheart.” “The poor little thing!” murmured Bert again. “What, not a single lover, and no nice friends, either ?”’ “T don’t know a soul except the members of the companies that I play in,” said the girl, promptly ; “and I tell you, I am so lonely that I could cry this minute!’ “Don’t, please—don’t! There’s a cop look- ing!’ said Bert, still seriously. “He might think you were my wife, and that I had been abusing you!” “Nonsense! How could he?” whispered the girl, looking up with a gay smile. “Why, any one to look at you would know you would make an angelic husband! You would never abuse any one. Why, Bert, dear, you couldn't!” ' The group of men had become so excited now that they had stopped and were com- pletely blocking the sidewalk. . Before answering, Bert took the soubrette s arm and attempted to lead her across the street to safety. This action on his part took Lou a little by surprise, as she was still gazing into his face and trying to make her words seem 1m- pressive. . As he touched her arm, there was a slight rustle of paper; then a small parcel that she was carrying under her cape dropped with a thud to the pavement. Pert bent over instantly to pick it up, but as he touched it the string slipped off and a dozen or more letters were scattered over the sidewalk. The girl gave a sharp cry and tried hastily to gather them up, but Bert had seen enough tO almost paralyze his senses. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, MY QUEEN. sternly, as he touched the girl’s shoulder. ‘How did you come by that bundle of Marion |. Marlowe’s letters?” CHAPTER XI. COLDNESS. Lou Leland did not answer his question; she did not even wait to hear it. Before the words were fairly out of Bert’s mouth she was speeding toward the theatre. Bert picked up the letters carefully and put them in his pocket. ‘There was something about the handwrit- ing that struck him as familiar. But it did not occur to him to think of that now; his mind was too busy with bewildering theories. How had the soubrette got them, and what had she been doing with Marion’s property? Not a word had been breathed by either Marion or Miss Allyn about the missing par- cel, so Bert was completely mystified by this astounding revelation. The moment he reached the theatre he went into Mr. Temple’s office, and as soon as the manager came in, he told him the whole oc- currence. “T knew they'd make trouble! 1 felt it in my bones,” were Mr. Temple’s first words. “But, we must go at this thing cautiously, Bert: there must be no loop-holes in our method.” . They talked for awhile, and then Bert went around to the stage entrance. It was almost time for the matinee, and he wanted to see Marion the moment she arrived. Lou Leland and her friend were already in their dressing-room, and, as Bert passed the door, he could hear them whispering together. But the “first call” had been made before Marion arrived, and as she was obliged to rush into her costume, Bert could not delay her. “Do you know what I think, Marion ?” asked Alma Allyn, softly, as she and the star were hurrying with their toilets. . “T think the doctor has kept out of sight purposely, for some reason, He does not in- tend us tc see him until we meet on the stage, where we can neither show our sympathy nor ask any questions.” | “T thought of that,” was the low reply; “but if it is true, what we think, it looks sig- nificant, Alma; it looks as if we were in some way concerned in the matter.” : That is so,” admitted Alma, with a shake of her head, “but it can’t be me, so it must be vou: but what have you done, Marion, to of- fend the doctor?” “Qh, Alma, how can you!” whispered the young girl, sorrowfully. “T have done noth- ing, absolutely nothing, Alma.” ae ecomirebooks com | ae