Marion Marlowe's Money, or, Brave Work in the Slums — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

6 | MY QUEEN. “Well, how much do I get for it?” asked the young man, sharply. ing at it for half an hour—you can’t besgreat- ly eXperienced as an appraiser.” There was a trace of irony in his tones that - the girl did not fail to notice. Her head drooped lower on her breast as she again ex- amined the contents of the parcel. | “T will give you ten dollars for the brace- let,” she said, after a pause, ‘‘but I don’t know about the earrings. Mother Nance must see them.” 7 “Humph!” ejaculated the young man, ad- “Ten dollars wouldn’t pay me for my time and trouble. vancing nearer to the girl. That bracelet is worth twenty dollars if it is” worth a penny.”’, . “T can’t help it,” said-the girl, wearily; “I don’t dare do any differently. I’ve already been punished enough for making mistakes.” “What, does Mother Nance punish you?” asked the young man, sharply. There was a look in his eyes which he could not con- trol for a minute. “She beats me cruelly and for nothing at all,” replied the girl, with agshiver. “Some- times I can’t believe that she really is my ; mother.” “Well, she’s a tyrant if she is; that’s all | I’ve got to say,” said the young fellow, hotly, “but I say, Mag, why don’t. you bolt? You could do~better without her.” , The girl shrugged her shoulders and shook her head slowly. “T’ve tried it twice,” she said, in despairing tones, “and both times she found me and nearly killed me.” “But can't you go to some other city?” asked the man, eagerly. He was standing very close to her now and gazing down at her pityingly. . “No use; Mother Nance has friends every- “She'd send out a where,” was the answer, general alarm to every crook in the country. “You've been star- . lonely place in the country! It is there that you feel that you would be safe there why The result would be that I'd be found by — some one or other of them, or else they'd — hold me a prisoner in hopes of getting ran-_ som from her. Oh, if [ could only go to some I would be safe—but, of courSe, that 1s out | of the question.” She drew a long sigh and the tears sprang to her eyes. As the young man gazed ata her he saw that she was almost pretty. “Not a feature in her face like the old hag’s,” he thought. “I believe the girl is right. Old Nance isn’t her mother.” Aloud he said: | | . “But why not a country place, then? If — don’t you skip this very minute?” ; “What would I do in a little village?” asked the girl quickly. “No one would know me. I am nobody nor nothing! I - can’t teach or sew or earn my living anyhow, | and you know a woman must be useful and good to be respected in a village ‘a2 < The young man sat down by her and took | ; her hand in his. , “How do you know ‘so much about the country, asked, softly. “I thought you were one of us—born and bred Mag?” he in the city.” b “[ have been told so—always,’ was the — girl’s thoughtful answer, “but someway [I am foréver thinking and dreaming of coun- try scenes. It stems to me I must have lived there at some time—long, long ago! Oh, it is cruel—this life—when I so long for liberty and the country!” ‘ “Mag!” The young man uttered the word in a cau- tious whisper, a “What is to hinder your starting this min- ute for the country? Mother Nance is out and the street door is unlocked. Put your hat on and fly—she’ll never tatch you!” “But I have no money!” whispered the s al girl, her eyes flashing with eagerness. Pe Eomicbooks.com