Marion Marlowe in Cleveland, or, The Mystery of the Red Rose — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. 7 “I'm sure I hope so,’ began Marion, in a grieved voice. “And I’m the grandmother,’’ chimed in Mrs. Burnside, passing her arm about the young girl’s waist. “Mr. Temple is our father, and you are the oldest sister, Miss Marlowe. Just wait until I mention that to Bert and Dr. Brookes!”’ | “Oh, I haven’t a doubt that Marion has promised to be a both,”’ laughed Miss Allyn, as she hurried after them. “The only wonder is that they take it so calmly! Not much like Archie Ray or Ed. Gordon, eh, Marion?” sister to them She had caught up with her friend, and was pinching her arm as she spoke, but Mar- ion faced her with her eyes shining brightly. “It is true that Mr. Ray went away for a lomg time, but, oh, Alma, it wasn’t altogether because he was disappointed. Really, his health was very bad—he was almost forced to travel!” “eves; he had heart disease—a very bad at- tack. I understand,” said Miss Allyn, slyly ; “and the strange thing about it was that it was always aggravated by the sight of you. Oh, well,.1 don’t wonder! for the poor fellow!” I’m only sorry “Then you will be glad to hear my news,” said Marion, softly. “Mr. Ray is coming to Cleveland to-day, and will be at the theatre this evening!” Miss Allyn clasped her hands to her brow and struck a tragic attitude. “Poor Mr. Temple! Poor doctor! Poor Bert!” she sighed, pathetically. “The plot thickens, Marion! Really, I tremble for the outcome !” “You'll tremble for other reasons, if you don’t hurry, Miss Allyn!” called out Miss Ellis. ‘“We are five minutes late now, and _the manager is getting angry. Oh, I just know I’ll make a mess of it! I don’t know a thing about my ‘business.’ ” “T have to keep walking back and forth and wringing my hands,” said Miss Allyn, hurrying. “I only hope I shall not wring them off in the excess_of my agony. As if If should really care because a lover had de- serted me!” : “Well, I'd have a fit to own one and lose him,”’ admitted Miss Ellis, honestly. “1 am sure I could do that part to perfection, Miss Allyn; so, if you’d rather be the naughty little opera comique fairy, who dazzles all the men with her ‘twinkling toes,’ I haven’t the slightest objection. You can ask Mr. Tem- ple!” “Good gracious! I’m obliged to you, but I won't change,’”’ cried Miss Allyn. “I may depend upon my face to make my fortune, but upon my toes—never !”’ There was an impatient call from the stage-manager, which ended the conversa- tion, and the next moment the rehearsal was “on” in a vigorous manner. “Isn’t she just glorious?” whispered Miss Ellis to Bert, as the two stood peering «from one of the wings. “Oh, I wish I were aman! How I would make love to Miss Marlowe!” “Well, here’s a pointer for you, girlie!” “It wouldn’t do you a bit of good, so you are just as well off. The matt who makes love to Marion Mar- lowe has got a proposition on his hands. He has to keep continually reminding himself that he isn’t ‘thé only pebble on the beach -’ and it keeps him continually on the anxious- said Bert, very candidly. seat, guessing the outcome. You see, I’ve been in love with Marion all my life,” he went on, calmly, “‘so there isn’t an aspect of the case that I haven’t studied!” “Qh, but you are only a boy! You don’ expect her to love you, do you?” asked Miss Ellis, loftily. Bert drew his five feet, eleven inches 9° height to as great an elevation as possible. \ GOMGDOO <SHGOliM