Marion Marlowe in St. Louis, or, A Forger's Bold Deed — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

22 ingly let him read every one of those letters, only that, of course, it wouldn’t be an honor- _able thing to do! No, indeed! That is not it! The doctor would scern to so much as glance at any one’s letters!” “LT know it as well as you do,” was her companion’s answer, “but | can’t seem to help putting the two things together.”’ Marion had been dressing for the evening performance, and was at the door as Alma spoke. “It will all be explained sometime, I sup- pose,’ she said, with a sigh; “but I do wish it would happen soon, so that the doctor would not leave us.” “Miss Maitland wishes so, too,” was Miss Allyn’s answer. “That girl is head over ears in love with him, Marion, and do you know, I think that her days with the com- pany are numbered.” Marion turned the knob suddenly before she replied. As-the door opened, she caught a glimpse of Miss Leland. She had been lis- tening at the key-hole. In an instant the young star’s face was flushed with indignation, and she stood like a statue, watching the retreating figure of the soubrette as it vanished down the corridor. Dr. Brookes stepped out of his room at that instant, and as Marion saw him, she beckoned for him to come to her. ‘Did you see her?” she asked, in a cautious tone. 3 “T did, indeed! She was listening, Miss ‘Marlowe. You opened the door just as I was about to speak to her.” It was the third time the doctor had called her “Miss Marlowe”’ in that icy voice, and, as Marion heard it, her lips trembled with emo- tion. She closed the door and stepped into the hall. There was no one about, and the doc- tor had turned to leave her. “Dr, Brookes, what is it?” she whispered, eagerly. ‘What have I done that you have changed so in your manner toward me?” Reginald Brookes turned—he was white as death. As they stood facing each other, Marion held out her hand appealingly. “You have been so cold—you call me ‘Miss Marlowe!’ What is it? What has _ hap- pened? If implore you to tell me !”’ The young man took her hand and held it in his own, and for a moment he seemed struggling with some strong emotion, “Taye T been rude or unkind, Marion? If IT have. [ bee that you will forgive me,” he aid cently. “T have not intended to hurt VOU, little one! God knows | would cut o my right arm sooner than wound your feel- ’ Ine -~her chum’s answetr. MY QUEEN. “Then why are you so changed, so cold to me?” she asked, quickly. - There was the sound of a light footstep near them, but neither heeded it. “I cannot explain the change in my man- ner, Marion,” he said, softly, “but believe me, there has been no change in my heart. I have been struggling with myself and, at last, I have conquered—that is all I can say and _tetain my honor!” The steps retreated softly and Mabel Mait- land closed her door behind her. She did not dare to play the eavesdropper so recklessly any longer. | “It’s no use, Lou,” she whispered, as soon as she was inside. “They are spooning out in the hall and he’s as much in love as ever, and I had almost gotten him to promise to take me’ to supper to-night after the perform- ance!” — in “T was sure he was beginning to like you,” was her companion’s answer, “but, as like as not he was only noticing you for a purpose. He may just have been trying to make her b jealous.” “But he can’t propose to her now! We've fixed. all that,” said Mabel, quickly. “Unless that kid has queered us by telling of the let- ters.” “Even if he did, we are safe until the doc- tor speaks, and he won't say a word,” said | Lou, as she poured a drink of liquor from a fiask that she took from her pocket. “Why, you™know yourself, that he is the soul of honor.” : “Well, I don’t understand this silence,’” was “It’s like the rioting in the street, you don’t know where it is going to break out next—nor what is to be the ex- tent of the damage.” ; “There's one thing certain,” said Lou, put- ting down her glass. ‘“There’s nothing to be _ made out of that Kid, Bert Jackson! And to think he is really the adopted son of a rich father.” : “Oh, I haven't forgotten it!” cried her room-mate, quickly, “and I'll fix the ingénue yet to pay for her fibs! There'll be fun to- night when we get to the theatre. “Well, we'd better start if we are going to cet there,” was the reply, as Lou glanced at the clock, and the next few minutes were de- voted to hurried dressing. rort and Dr. Brookes were standing near the stage entrance when Miss Allyn and Marion arrived, but, although it was growing late, the two new members had not put in an appearance. , Marion’s beautiful face was fairly radiant with joy. She had a bunch of roses in one hand and a letter in the other. “What do you think, Mr. Ray is in town!” Comicbooks:;com