Marion Marlowe's Cleverness, or, Exposing a Bold Fraud — page 16: what you’re looking at

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14 There was another flash of fire in the woman’s black eyes. She seemed to resent the young girl’s words, and it was evident that she was endeavoring vigorously to re- frain from saying so. Marion paid no more attention to her, but turned away. She had recovered her note and was now most anxious to read it. As she closed the library door the outer en- trance to the apartment was opened and Ar- thur Stanton stépped in, followed by a gen- tleman in black. Then came a magnificent casket, borne by six sturdy men. They were the undertaker’s assistants on their solemn mission. Marion shivered slightly and ran on to her aunt’s room. The widow was still asleep, breathing as peacefully as.an infant. The young girl was still clutching the bit of paper, but as she tiptoed over to the win- dow she opened it softly. The words which she read were startling indeed, but they did not in the least explain. the mystery of the murder. Howard Everett had written briefly and al- most in cipher, but in a moment Marion un- derstood it perfectly. “Motive—will. Look sharp. Search prem- ises. Be alarmed at nothing.” This was all, but it was enough for the clever girl. She now had her clew to work upon and they should not find her idle. She tore the paper into fragments and then put them back in her pocket. She would burn them later when she saw an opportunity. Then for just about five minutes she sat down and thought deeply, and this act proved conclusively that she realized the responsibil-’ ity of her position. When she had thought it all out, Marion arose to act. She was about to leave the room, when her aunt suddenly awakened. “What time is it, Marion?” she asked in a whining voice. “Do please tell Gregg to hurry. It is certainly time for luncheon.” Will vou yours in ehere?”’ Marion, quickly, [It had occurred to her that by this means she could secure another fete- have asked a-tete with Arthur Stanton. “Tust as you say, child,” was the peevish answer. “You must take care of me now; MY QUEEN. there is no one else. Dear, dear, I almost wish I could see your mother !” In an instant Marion’s arms were about her aunt, | “Do you mean that, aunt? Would you really like to see mother?” she asked, eagerly. Mrs. Stanton sniffed a moment and then - moved a little uneasily. “T suppose she dresses as dowdy as ever,” ske said, slowly. “Dear, no, it wouldn’t do. Martha would only disgrace me if she came ake.2 x Marion’s arm dropped from her aunt’s shoulder, and she drew back instantly. There was a scornful smile on the beautiful lips, but by a wonderful effort she kept herself from answering. The tinkle of a silver bell came as a welcome relief. “T will send Gregg in with your luncheon,” she said, coldly. “I am sure it will be bet- ter for you to be quiet, Aunt Susan.” Outside of the door Marion clenched her hands together. “Oh, 1 would go home this minute if I could,’ she whispered fiercely, “but I must not do it—I must stay and help my friend Mr. Everett.” © | CHAPTER VIII. MARION MAKES A BEGINNING. As Marion sat down at the luncheon table exactly opposite Arthur Stanton she could not help noticing how old and haggard he was looking. Almost in a few hours his face had become drawn and pale, and his magnificent black eyes were dull and heavy. “The worst is over, is it not?” she asked, encouragingly. “I saw the undertaker come. I suppose we can now have the funeral ?” “Ves, the red tape is at an end, I suppose,” was the somewhat sarcastic-answer. “They had the inquest and found out nothing. Now we are at liberty to bury my poor uncle’s re- trains and then trust to luck to catch his murderer.” Marion looked at him sharply; there was genuine disgust in his voice. Either Arthur Stanton felt very deeply or he was a clever actor, Mrs. came in just then, with the Eomichooks. com Gregg