Marion Marlowe's Skill, or, A Week as a Private Detective — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

4 is my nature, I guess, to be self-sufficient and — independent!” “But aren’t you just a little bit too much so, Marion?” whispered the doctor, eagerly. 4 “Are you wise to defer what should be at- tended to at once, and all because of a wrong idea of independence ?” _ Marion shook her head, while a sad look erept into her eyes. “TF couldn’t do it,” she began, when the ™ 5 “But if my mother gave it to you—would you accept it then, Marion? She would be md ‘lighted to do it. I have only to ask her.” es ‘ The fair girl laughed gayly. He could not deceive her. She knew perfectly well that it would still be his money. >] ae lease don’t urge me, Doctor,” she said, very gently and sweetly. “I understand and appreciate your kindness thoroughly, but | cannot take it, so please, please don’t ask me!” __ Dr. Brookes drew a long sigh. It was evi- dent that he was bitterly disappointed. _ It seemed such a pity, he mused, that this young girl’s musical education should not be completed when he had money and to spare; besides he loved the girl dearly. As he was about to speak, some one came into the par- lor. It was a young girl of about Marion’s age, perhaps a year or two older, and in an in- stant both occupants of the alcove recognized her. ‘ Marion looked up quickly as the woman walked up to them. “Good-evening, Miss Ross,” she said. There was no answer from Miss Ross— only a deep scowl crossed her features. With a glance of hatred toward them both, she turned on her heel and left the room. MY QUEEN. S CHAPTER III. A STRANGE CALLER. As the woman left the room, Marion looked inquiringly at the doctor, who shrugged his shoulders as if he were annoyed. and dis- custed. “Do you know her?” she asked in a very low whisper. “T did—she is Bessie Ross,’’ was the doc- tor’s answer. “I don’t know her now, though, and I confess I don’t wish to.” “She is one of Madame Leopold’s pupils,” said Marion, still staring at him. “But why did she glare at me so? I have never harmed Het The doctor laughed, but still looked rather disgusted. “Jealous, perhaps,” he said, almost grave- ly. “Miss Ross honored me with her aftec- tions at one time, but I’m afraid I did not appreciate them altogether. You see, she was my mother’s seamstress, and under the cir- 9) cumstances “T see,” said Marion, with an amused twinkle in her eyes. “Poor girl, then she must be suffering from unrequited affec- tion.” “Oh, I guess not!” said the doctor, quickly. “T guess she got over it all right. Anyway, she has been in love since, if I am not ereatly mistaken.” Marion could see that the subject was not a pleasant one with him, so, with her usual tact, she began talking of other matters. A little later the physician took his leave. It was still early in the evening, but he had a call to make on a patient. As Marion tripped back to the elevator, she passed two of the bellboys, who stood in the office door. “Gee whiz! but she is the prettiest girl in New York,” said Bob Dillon, the porter, as she came through the hall. ‘“She’s got a style about her that’s out o’ sight! Many’s the rich . Go DOO AUUC SS (S©)