A Lover's Quarrel, or Marion Marlowe's Deceitful Friend — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

“Can you really afford to give me this, Mr. Jackson? I would not take it for the world if I thought you couldn’t.” “Don’t you worry a bit,’ was Bert’s prompt reply. “I’ve got a couple of thousand dollars stowed away in dad’s bank, so I won't go to the poorhouse for the want of a hun- dred.” “How perfectly lovely for you! And oh, Mr. Jackson, I just love you for your kind- ness to poor little me!” whispered the girl, softly; then the pressure upon Bert’s hand increased a little. “It seems marvelous to me-that ‘Miss Ellis should wish to give you up. Really, I could not believe it, if she had not told me so her- self,’ she murmured, softly. “And I would never have believed it if she was _ Bert’s answer. “But you saw her with it, you swore to that, Miss Fredericks !”’ had not written me that note,” “He turned and looked down into pees up-. turned face and his brow darkened with the pain that he was suffering, but concealing. There was not a quiver of the eyelids as Miss Fredericks replied: “She wrote it in my room and at my table, Mr. Jackson! You certainly do not think me capable of lying about it.” Her lips quivered as she spoke and her voice trembled a little, and in an instant Bert was reproaching himself for the question. “Of course I don’t, you poor little inno- cent! It was her handwriting all right and, of course, she wrote it. It is strange, that is all: I can’t understand it.” A moment later the cab drew up at the store and, with a courteous farewell, Bert left her to do her shopping. CHAPTER IV. A SURPRISE. “Marion!” “Yes, dear.” “When are you going to begin purchas- ing your trousseau? I am just dying to help you select some of the pretty things !”’ MY QUEEN. Mrs. Burnside was seated in her own apartment when she spoke and Marion was sitting near her with a book between her fingers. ‘ The young girl blushed prettily, but she re- plied at once. “I am just waiting to hear from the doc- tor’s mother,” she said, anxiously. “She has something to communicate to me which I think I already know, ae it is Resmall's wish that I let her tell me.’ | “I hope it is nothing that. will delay the happy event,” said Mrs. Burnside, anxious- ly, “for I am as eager as the doctor is to have you married, dear‘e.” There was another blush, then Marion’s face became very grave and she laid the book softly upon the table. “It is about his father’s will, I am sure,” she said, slowly. “You know, his father did not wish him to marry beneath him.” “As if he was!” exclaimed Mrs. Burn- side, “The doctor is the noblest man on earth and you are the noblest woman ; contemptuously. it stands to reason that you were made for each other.” therefore, Marion’s brow was still clouded and she did not reply, so, after a brief moment of silence, her friend deftly changed the subject. “Have you seen Miss Fredericks to-day?” she asked, “No, I have not; why do you ask, Mrs. in an altered voice. Burnside ?” As Marion spoke, she looked up quickly. She was just thinking of the girl at that minute. . ” continued Mrs. Burnside, with an anxious frown. “I passed her in the hall to-day and she had a very vulgar-looking woman with her. I thought Miss Fredericks was a lady, didn’t you, Marion?” The young girl pursed up her lips, but did “Simply for this reason, not reply for a minute. She, was_wonde ng