Marion Marlowe's Peril, or, A Mystery Unveiled — page 21: what you’re looking at

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“He will simply laugh at me,” broke in Miss Everett. Then, seeing Marion’s look of astonish- ment, she hurried to explain. “He will say that I am a child and that I do not know what love is; further, he will say _ that the man [ love is not worthy, and that it is my duty, if I marry afly one, to marry the one he chooses for me.” “He does not seem like that,” said Marion, _ thinking only of the last part of her remark. “Howard is very strict; idiotically so,” went on the girl. “Why, he scolds when I . am out too late at night—he raves because I _ drink wine and smoke an occasional cigar- ette, and he simply goes on like a fiend when _ I mention my lover’s name—and to think that any man living could object to Vincent St. Clair, the artist !”’ “What!” _ Marion Marlowe almost rose from her seat as she spoke that one word. , - “Ts it possible, Miss Everett? Is Mr. St. _ Clair your lover?” “We have been engaged for a month,” said Miss Everett, coolly. ““Nobody knows it—not even my brother. For some reason or other _ Howard hates St. Clair, but I fully intend to peery him without his consent or knowl- edge.” “Then ites have you told me?” gasped _ Marion, in astonishment. Y said the “and I know you well “T have told you in confidence,”’ young girl, smiling, Marion bit her lips—her brain was in a whirl. It did not seem possible that her com- ___ Panion could be serious. “But it has not been proven that Leonie St. Clair is dead,” she urged, after a minute. “You surely would not marry a man while _ there is a doubt on that subject.”’ Miss Everett shrugged her shoulders, but she grew a shade paler. ~She’s dead, all right! She committed sui- pene, ” she said, slowly. “‘There is one man In this town who can prove it, and he is Ollie Dayton F a Marion thought a moment before she’ spoke “Were you acquainted with this artist be- MY QUEEN. q SE crib to know that you will not betray me.” 19 fore his wife disappeared?” she asked, as quietly as possible. The girl burst out laughing in genuine amusement, “Not a bit of it! I never saw him until after I read of it in the papers; then I made a point of getting acquainted with him, just to make Tom mad—Tom was the fellow I was engaged to at the time—he hated the ar- tist, and I hated him. My brother picked him out for me; his name is Tom Villard.” The name sounded familiar, but Marion could not place it. “There he is—there’s Villard now!” ex- claimed Miss Everett, suddenly. Marion looked around and smothered an exclamation. They were just passing the undertaker’s shop where “Mrs. Dent’s” body lay, and the young man had apparently just come out of the establishment. ; For an instant she felt tempted to tell Miss Everett all; then another look at Mr. Villard stopped her. As he glanced up at them absently, Marion remembered where she had seen him. It was the young man who had given her the anony- mous letter. : CHAPTER IX. MARION MEETS THE ARTIST. As Marion was on her way to call on Dr. Brookes, Miss Everett insisted on driving her all the way to his office. Never had our heroine talked so eagerly or so pleadingly as she did with this young woman whose shal- low nature so shocked and pained her. Over and over again she urged her to tell her brother all and to trust to his superior judg- ment in this matter of marriage to the artist. “Oh, I beg of you to wait,” she pleaded as she left her. “Evil sted c comes from these clandestine affections. JI am sure no man can be honorable who seeks to keep such matters secret.” “Oh, Vincent is honorable, but he is eccen- tric,’ was the uneasy answer. “He is a great genius, you know; so, of course, he is pecu- liar. Then, just at present he is obliged to keep up appearances. But what difference will it make when I'am his wife? Why, I can CORMCOOOKS. CO