Marion Marlowe's Courage: A Brave Girl's Struggle for Life and Honor — page 10: what you’re looking at

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8 é MY QUEEN. think because I am poor I would stoop to dis- honor?” The girl shrugged her shoulders and turned away. “When you have worn yourself out, soul and body, as I have, you will understand bet- ter,” she said wearily. “I have lived an hon- est life, but what thanks have I for it?” “You have your own self-respect,” cried Dollie, taking a step toward her. “Poor food for a starved stomach,” said the girl, half smiling, “but, good-by and good luck, my little rustic.” Dollie stood still for a moment and looked after the girl. The tears had sprung to her eyes, and were trembling on her lashes. “Poor soul,’ she whispered, with a heavy sigh. “Poor,-weary girl. Oh, how I pity her. Then there is starvation and want in this great city of plenty.” She walked on after this, thinking deeply as she went, but never quite forgetting that she must be alert and watchful. For although Professor Dabroski was safely in jail, there were times when Dollie almost trembled with dread. It seemed as if his fatal spell was still haunting her senses. As she turned into the block that led to their furnished room, she came suddenly in sight of a familiar figure, which made her stand for a moment as if rooted to the spot, while the blood coursed through her veins in a perfect torrent. A young man, with a gaunt, angular figure, dressed in butternut colored gar- ments, a bandana handkerchief around his neck, and a wide brimmed straw hat upon his head, was standing about half way down the block, staring up at the houses in a gawkified manner. Dollie knew him at once. It was Silas Johnson, their next door neighbor at home in the country. This man, was the husband whom her father had chosen for her—the man whom slic had solemnly vowed she would never marry. What was he doing in New York? Dollie asked herself the question. It was not possible that Silas should meet her now after her fearful experience with Professor Dabroski. Before she had fairly recovered from her surprise, Silas Johnson saw her and Janooary, an’ if yew’ll marry me, Dollie, Pil came striding along the pavement, mopping his forehead vigorously with another ban- dana. ‘So here’s where ye be!” was his extraor-_ Eatin greeting. “I told yer SiG: I’d find | ye an’ tell em how ye wuz livin’,’ “Are they so anxious about us?” er Dollie, faintly. “I should have thought if they were anxious they might have answered our letters, for both Marion and I have written to mother.” Silas Johnson eyed her curiously before he — nswered, much as if she were a stranger in- stead of the girl he had known from child- hood. “Waal, yew kain’t blame ’em fer not bein’ over pertik’lar about hearin,’” he said, bluntly. “When a gal’s run away an’ dis- eraced her fam’ly it’s ag’in natur not ter ~ resent it a leetle.” Dollie Marlowe blushed to the roots oF her hair. “Is that what you came to say to me, Sile?” she asked, hotly. “Tf it is, Tl go on, for I’m tired and hungry.” “No, tain’t all,” said Silas, with a peculiar — leer. “I’ve got sumthin’ else tew say tew ye, but I calkulate the street is no place tew say oe. | "te . “Tt will have to do, Silas,” said Dollie, de- — cidedly, “for Marion is not at home, and I cannot ask you in. There is no one to hear; quick, what else have you to say to me pe “Waal, ef I must, I must,’ was the drawl- ine answer, “tho’ tain’t exac’ly the place fer a man ter pop ther question.” a | “What do you mean, Silas?” asked Dollie, sharply. q “Oh, I knew yew’d be surprised,” said the 6é ‘email « fellow, arrogantly. “ ’Tain’t every respecter- ble man thet ud want ye, Dollie, but I’m willin’ ter take ye an’ dew what’s right by ye. Yew see, I’ve got a five hundred dollar mor’- eige on yer father’s farm that'll fall due in give him ther paper; but ef yew won't——" “What, then?” asked Dollie, trembling. “Then I'll foreclose on him an’ turn ‘em out,” was the decided answer. “It’s yew or the money, an’ the deacon ain't got no ~ money.” . EGomichbooks.com