A Lover's Quarrel, or Marion Marlowe's Deceitful Friend — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the N. Y. Post Office, by STRBET & SMITH, 2378 William Si. Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1901 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. N.Y NEW YORK, April 13, 1901. Price Five Cents. —— A LOVER'S QUARREL; OR, Marion Marlowe’s Deceitful Friend. By GRACE SHIRLEY. CHAPTERS. CHANCE INFORMATION. “Oh, Mrs. Burnside! how many things can happen in a short space Just think! ago the Temple Theatrical Company was Isn’t it wonderful of time? Only one little month charming the natives of our Western cities and to-day here we are, stranded high and cry ina New York hotel, with utter ruin and desolation staring in our faces!” “For goodness’ sake, Miss Ellis, what do you mean? I never heard such extraordi- nary language! Who says that desolation is staring us in the face? Oh, I guess I un- derstand! You are gazing at yourself in the mirror this minute, and you do look desolate, upon my soul!” Miss Ellis laughed, but it was a feeble ef- fort, and the very next moment she was al- most crying. “I can’t help feeling so, Mrs. Burnside,” she went on, nervously. “Why, you and I are all that is left intact out of the whole ‘push,’ you might say! Mr. Temple is on Ida Inez is way off in Chicago with that blessed boy, Jackets; little Ruby is in the convent, bless her dear little heart, the road with another company ; and oh, worst of all, Alma has gone and got married, and Marion has become an heiress and is in love, des- perately in love, with Dr. Brookes, while Bert my own darling sweetheart, is preparing for that hateful old college !”’ “And that is the secret of the whole trouble, isn’t it, dear?’ asked Mrs. Burn- side, sympathetically, as she dropped her work and went over beside her companion. “It is just because Bert has to go to col- lege that you are so miserable. Why, you wicked girl, you wouldn’t have him erow up a booby, would you?” “What! Bert Jacksop.g vertinty\lety im