Marion Marlowe's Peril, or, A Mystery Unveiled — page 12: what you’re looking at

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10 “But was it not proven so?” asked Mar- ion as quickly as she could. “Do not her father, her friends, and her husband believe it?” “Yes, yes, they do!” cried the poor woman sharply, “but I am her mother—I cannot believe that she would do it!” Marion knew that she referred to the sui- cide theory, which had finally been accepted to explain the young wife’s disappearance, — but for a time she was so distressed that she could hardly speak, for this mother’s grief was still poignant and pitiful. “T have come to ask you about her hus- band,” said Marion, after a moment’s pause. “Has he any reason whatever for wishing to deceive you in this matter?” The sad lines around Mrs. Townsend's lips tightened, and a look crept into her -eyes which told Marion volumes. “When we were asked that question be- fore, we refused to answer it,” she said, slowly, ‘because we feared the ill will of our artist son-in-law, but now I am free to say that neither my husband nor myself approved of the match; we had other hopes and am- bitions for our darling daughter.” “And he knew of*them?” asked Marion, quickly. : “We made no secret of our feelings be- fore the marriage,” was the proud answer, “afterward we accepted him and made the best of it.” Marion had gained the first point for her coming story, for, as Mrs. Townsend said, this information had been withheld at the time of the mysterious disappearance of Le- onie St. Clair. The world at large knew nothing of any opposition to the artist. “T thank you for your confidence, and oh, | do pity you so!” said Marion, with a little sob in her voice as,she rose to go. “Our editor thought of reviving the story of your | hope he poor child’s disappearance, but MY QUEEN. will not do it now, for I fear that it will pain you.” “No! No!” cried Mrs. Townsend plain- tively, “I thank him for his interest, for, do you know’—here her voice sank to a thrill- ing whisper—“I simply cannot believe that she is dead! I feel that she lives, and its this publicity that will rescue her! Some one will hear of her fate—every one will hear of it—and, in sympathy for the poor child and her suffering mother, they will be con- stantly on the watch, as I am, for some tidings of her!” Marion’s eyes filled with tears, as she caught the poor woman’s hand and kissed it. “Oh, that I might be the one to restore her to you! I pity you, madam, from the To think of a dear one being lost, and not to know whether she bottom of my heart! is dead or alive—in comfort or in pain—in safety or in danger!” “You will help me search for her, will you not?” cried the lady, eagerly. She reached out impulsively, and took Marion’s hands in hers, while she gazed into her eyes with almost feverish intensity. ‘“T will, indeed—to the extent of my “TL will stop at nothing that woman can do, but oh, Mrs. brave and strong, and above all, be pre- power!” cried Marion, solemnly. my poor pared for the worst, for if,wealth and skill have been fruitless, what can I expect to accomplish?” , “Too true,” murmured the lady, her lips saddening again; “but I am grateful for your sympathy, my dear, brave girl, and you have comforted me because you look like her, my angel!” o' “Poor, wretched woman,” thought Mar- ion, as she hurried from the house. “T can see that she was as proud as Lucifer once; no doubt she wished her daughter fo marry 4 nobleman and disliked the poor artist so Townsend, you must be GEomicbooks.¢o m