A Lover's Quarrel, or Marion Marlowe's Deceitful Friend — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

10 “It would kill me.to lose my lover or my husband; I am sure it would,” she mur- mured, softly. at! could never be brave and serene like you! I should just. weep and weep and make every one about me miserable.” “No you wouldn’t, Marion. -You would be far braver than IJ. Your nature is braver,”’ was the decided answer, : “Poor Miss Ellis! How she must be suffer- ing!’ sighed Marion, quickly. “She loves Bert dearly, and yet he has given her up. My blood boils with indignation whenever I think of it!” “And I am mystified by it all,” said Mrs. Burnside, solemnly. “I can’t believe that Bert is so unworthy! Why, I would just as soon have expected it of the doctor.” She turned to the door as she spoke and admitted Dr. Brookes, giving him a cordial hand grasp and a smile of greeting. “Do not judge Bert too hastily,” said the young man, as he took Marion in his arms. “Tf overheard your last words, you see, Mrs. Burnside.” | | “Oh, we are trying so hard not to misjudge him!” cried Marion, whose lips were burning “But he told me himself, so what can I think! He assured me from her lover’s caress. in plain words that he was giving her back her liberty.” The doctor looked puzzled, but, as he seated himself upon a sofa, he did not forget to draw Marion down beside him. “T’'ll be back in a minute. Do please ex- cuse me,” said Mrs, Burnside, in a second. “T just want to run into Miss Fredericks’ room. I loaned her a pattern and she has for- gotten to return it.” “A nice chaperone you are!” laughed Marion, gayly, but Mrs. Burnside had van- ‘shed out of sight and hearing. “Marion, darling, you are worrying, I can cee it,” said the doctor, quickly. “You are fretting because of poor Miss Ellis! MY QUEEN. I can’t have that, dearest; heart must not worry!” “Il can’t help feeling just a little badly, Reginald,” whispered the young girl, as she nestled her head against his shoulder. “But I am happy, darling. Don’t think I am not happy! Every hour of my life is a perfect paradise !” ‘ my sweet- ~ “And all because of pint love for one who is all unworthy,” murmured the doctor, softly. “Oh, Marion, my.queen, would that I were the Prince of Perfection instead of only a common, ordinary being!” | “You are my prince, Reginald,” whispered the sweet lips, “and I would not wish you to be perfect. You would be so very, very lonely if you were perfect, darling!” | “T would have one lovely companion, sweetheart,’ was the rapturous answer, and then, as Mrs. Burnside’s step was heard in the hall, he pressed her to his heart for one brief instant. “Well, I didn’t get the pattern, but I got something else!” exclaimed Mrs. Burnside, almost angrily. “Now, what do you think that Bert Jackson has done? He has actually invited her to the masquerade ball at Mrs. Stetson’s! Why, the boy must be mad to make such a fearful blunder!” Marion sprang to her feet, too astonished tc answer, but Dr. Brookes was prompt to speak his sentiments. ; “T don’t believe a word of it, Mrs. Burn- ‘side! Why, Bert knows better than to make a break like that! Just fancy his introducing Miss Fredericks at the Parker-Stetsons !” CHAPTER V. — A CALLER. There was just a moment of silence after the doctor’s exclamation; then Marion spoke with a sternness that was most unusual. “Bert shall not masts yess 4180 a ¢