Marion Marlowe's Disappearance, or, Almost a Crime — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

- “T’se kin tell yer sumthin’ dat yer’d orter now, miss,” he whispered, shrilly; “if yer’ll . gimme annudder nickel, I’ll post yer, loidy. I’m onter de racket, but I'll squeal if yer’ll yay me!” P ivarion hesitated a moment, but Bert was waiting for her now. Acting on the impulse of ‘the moment she bent and whispered to the you ungster, | “Here's your-other nickel. = theatre if you have anything to tell me. d Joorman peat you want to see Miss Mar- doy we? The we grinned with delight and emitted a low whistle; then, as Bert handed Marion n 9 the carriage and drove away the beg- see a Sa.) é face took ona curious expression. -. whiz! I'd orter told ’er to-night!” he whispered to himself. too late; dey’ll ketch ’er, sure pop, ter-mor- “Ter-morrer ll be ; CHAPTER IX. — DOLLIE’S SYMPATHY. _ Marion and her sister Dollie sat up until “nearly daylight talking over the evening’s rs periences, for Marion told her the whole Story of her conquests at the theatre as well as of the supper at the famous restaurant. _ “And to think that Bert should take you away from them all!” cried Dollie, when she heard it. “But that is just like you, sister; _ you are so loyal to your old friends! There ei no rich lover in creation who could make | you forget Bert Jackson!” “But Bert is a rich lover himself, if all he ~ Says is true,” said Marion, laughingly. “Why, Will you believe it, Dollie, the boy is as fond Se _ Of me as ever.” = “Dear old Bert! I just long for a good talk with him,” said her sister; “but I am pr _ sorry for Mr. Ray and Mr. Everett and the ome »” = a MY QUEEN. Come and see Go to the stage door and tell the z BY f “Well, why not include Mr. Merton and Mr. Gordon while you are about it?” laughed Marion; “‘for certainly their notes are as kind and their flowers just as sweet as the others. » I believe in showing no partiality, Dollie. It is lovely to have good friends, and the more the better.” “Oh, Marion, I’m afraid you are a little bit of a coquette!” said Dollie, laughingly. “Why can’t you marry as | did and ‘be happy forever after’ ?” “T don’t know why I can’t,” said the fair girl, musingly; “but all of my friends are so perfectly lovely! IfI marry one I lose all the others!’ “You wouldn’t care if you did,” said her sister, serenely. “The one you married would make up for all the rest and, of course, Marion, you can’t go on having a host of lovers forever.” said Marion, sleepily ; “but I guess I’ll go to bed and for-— get all about them, Dollie, if you will only help me, please, with this abominable band- dage.” Marion’s arm had been behaving beauti- fully all the evening. “I don’t know why not,” It was stiff and sore, but not unbearable, and as Dollie removed : the soft cloths it became perfectly comfoft- able. She went to sleep at last, thinking of her many true friends, not with foolish pride that she had won their affection, but with a’ deep, earnest gratitude that they thought her worthy of their admiration, The little beggar boy with his warning was entirely forgotten, as were the other triflin’ incidents of the evening. When she awoke the next morning the <-> was shining brightly, and Dollie was waitin» for her with a steaming cup of coffee. ~Oh, this is ever so much nicer than Boarding house or a hotel,” were Marion = first words; “T wonder how TI ever lived long away from you, Dollie.” Si) COMmMichoOoks.€O©