Marion Marlowe's Noble Work, or, The Tragedy at the Hospital — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

18 She let her hand rest in his as she looked at him. “And you will watch, Marion, for my err- ing wife,” he said, sadly; “you will forget what she has done in your friendship for me, for I should never forgive myself if she should be in want or die uncared for.” , “I will watch,” said Marion, simply, and then the carriage stopped. Once more Mar- ion was admitted to the little hospital dock, going back to her duties among the city’s un- fortunate. As she reached the deck of the Thomas Brennan, some one stepped out of. the pilot house to greet her. It was young Dr. Brookes, on his way to the Prison Hospital. CHAPTER LA, MARION WITNESSES A QUEER SIGHT. “Big Belle, the Confidence CJueen,” was a very versatile woman. At liberty, she was noted for the variety of her accomplish- ments, and in prison walls she was equally useful both room. But this strange woman's greatest delight in her cell and in the work- was in the care of the sick, and as she passed from cot to cot in the prison hospital both her hand and her voice were as gentle as a mother’s. She was a large, fine-looking woman, with brilliant black eyes, but the coarse prison garb did not enhance the beauty of either face or figure. Belle Blackwell” before, so she felt very much at had “done time” at the “Isle de home in her present occupation, There was not a rule or regulation about the prison that she did not know, and if she ever longed to break one of them there was no indication of it in her manner. Rather, it seemed to her associates that Kelle was. merely “biding her time,” and, according to all accounts, a goodly portion MY QUEEN. of her ill-gotten gains was steadily drawing interest in various banks in anticipation of her coming. As Big Belle bent over one of her charges whose face was covered with bandages, she moistened them as skillfully as any trained nurse could have done, and as the prison physician entered the ward she went over to him promptly, standing with calmly folded hands and eyes cast down, the very em- bodiment of meekness and servitude. ‘How is she this morning?” was the doc- tor’s first question, asked without even rais- ing his eyes from the prescription he was writing. bs “Worse, Dr. Brookes,” said “Big Belle” in “T should say that the vit- riol was still burning deeper, and if I am not a lady-like voice. ee ee much mistaken there is a considerable fever.” — “Tl have to get you a thermometer,” said Dr. Brookes, without thinking ; “you can cer- tainly take temperature, Belle, they tell me you are clever.”’ A half-suppressed iaugh from the woman startled him. He looked up and caught her eye, and then he, too, smiled slightly. “T keep forgetting that you people aren't to be trusted,” he said, pleasantly. “Wen will I ever learn that I am working in a prison!” . The woman did not answer, but she fol- lowed him with her eyes as he moved away. She was by far too clever not to understand his words, and by far too unhappy not to be secretly pleased by them. “He'd trust me all right, if he dared,” she thought. “As if there was any danger of my killing myself, or any one else for that matter!” ‘May I come ina minute?” asked a pleas- ant voice at the door. Dr. Brookes looked around quickly, and a smile spread over his features. His visitor was Marion Marlowe... her, Nurse S ban