An Interrupted Wedding, or Marion Marlowe as Maid of Honor — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. 7 she saw him always made his blood thrill with delight, for he could never quite despair of her some day loving him. As soon as they reached the office Marion seated herself by the open fire, for, although the day was pleasant, she felt uncomfort- ably chilly. “T guess it is from what I have just seen and heard,’’ she said, faintly, “for oh, Dr. Brookes, something awful has happened! I am so glad that Alma’ eave me her consent that I should tell you!” Dr. Brookes seated himself at her side with a look of consternation on his features. He was more than distressed over Marion’s nervous condition. “Is it possible that there is anything wrong with Fairfax?” were his first words. “Why, he has always seemed to me to be the soul of honor! Tell me quickly—has he backed down or deceived her, Marion?” He leaned toward her as he spoke, and the » young girl smiled back at him happily. “That was the very first question I asked Alma, and oh, how quickly she resented it! No, there is nothing wrong with Alma’s lover, doctor; she says he is the dearest, tru- est fellow in the world,” was the merry an- swer, “And did you agree with her, Marion?” asked the doctor, softly. Marion let her eyes wander over the shin- _ ing fireplace as she answered: “Dear me! contradict her, would you? Why, even in her grief 1 don’t know what Alma would have done! Called me an unappreciative mortal, no doubt; and then cut my acquaint- ance.” “Alma isn’t so foolish as all that,” said the _ young man, smiling. “Mr. Fairfax may be ‘dearest and truest’ to her, but not to you, Marion. You are entitled to a ‘dearest and > You wouldn’t have had me - truest’ of your own; yet, for some reason or other, you don’t seem to want one.” Once more the young girl’s face was the color of roses. Instinctively she knew that the doctor was very near the verge of again referring to his love, so she began in a hys- terical way to tell him of what had happened. “Just think of it, doctor,” she exclaimed, as she concluded her story. “Gladys ran away from her home at the age of fourteen, and oh, what a life she did lead Alma for a time! Why, the dear girl has rescued her from fearful places, but Gladys did not seem to care about being respectable! She just goes back into bad company in spite of everything,” “A degenerate, I guess,” said the young physician, thoughtfully. He was intensely interested in the dreadful story. | “I hardly think that, but she certainly is incorrigible,” answered Marion, sighing. “It seems to be a case of artificial depravity. She -could not come by it naturally in such a lovely family.” “I would like to know her history,” went on the young physician. “Young girls can’t become d@praved all by themselves.”’ There was a look of disgust upon his manly features, and as Marion glanced at him she burst out impetuously : “Oh, Reginald! Why is it that all men are not like you?” The name slipped from her lips like a note of music; then Marion leaned a little forward and her breath came faster. Dr. Brookes rose from his chair and hur- riedly crossed the apartment. His name upon her lips had set his every pulse to vi- brating. “Why cannot all men be upright, honor- able and just,” she went on, rapidly, “in- stead of descending to such depths of wick- edness and depravity? Just think, Gladys Ninh saittememCoinicbookecco