Marion Marlowe in Cleveland, or, The Mystery of the Red Rose — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

“Well, we’re lucky to get off as we did,” z ‘said Bert. “When a man with a pistol gets _ scared or rattled, it’s the greatest wonder in the world that he don’t shoot everything around him. By the way, Hinton, have you - fixed the red light?” he asked, suddenly. ee ou know Deering decided to have a play of lights to-night. Miss Marlowe and little | _ rainbow of glory!” Rs _“T’ve got all the colors,” said Hinton, good- eeeeedly “and the effect is bound to be autiful, Jackson !” “It couldn’t help being! Isn't it going to shi 1 ne on two beautiful stars! Why, it will be gk o TIOUS, Hinton, if it only reflects back their eYc You’ re as bad off as ever, I believe,” es ghed Hinton. “You are still as true as to your first love, Jackson !”’ :: = drew himself up proudly hrugged his shoulders. Saad Well, I should hope so,” he said, quietly. “I'd have no respect for myself if I wasn’t. The other girls are all right, but there’s only one Marion Marlowe!” EATo you really love her so much, Bert! ah asked a soft voice at his shoulder. __Bert turned around quickly, and saw Miss “a p and shr ug He was about to reply jokingly, bttt a look her face stopped him. | ever he saw misery, Bert saw it there. In an instant the realization came to him that ex this girl really loved him. It was a revela- tion to the young man, and for a moment it confused him; then his sense of honor rose 1 ippermost, and his voice was firm as he an- swered: 2 } aah te loved Marion all my life! I shall z always love her,” he said, softly. “Of course, I expect to make many dear friends, be at, as I said before, there can be only one Marion Marlowe.” Miss Ellis turned away with the tears in fer eyes. vn, moment later he was taking himself to Pe severely. He felt that unconsciously he ad wronged the girl, yet never for amoment nad he e intended to deceive her. 7 Wa . 1“ MY QUEEN. Ruby are to bask, during the fourth act, ina . ‘still seriously. ee looked after her sadly, but did not 21 “My first love affair,” he muttered to him- self, as he went toward his dressing-room. “Well, may the Saints preserve me from hav- ing another! A man can love and be disap- pointed and still bear it, but such an experi- ence must be awful to a girl or a woman!” ‘What are you mooning about, Bert?” asked a merry voice. Bert had his hand on his door, “but he turned quickly and answered: “Marion, do women suffer more than men when they are in love? That’s a SOTO question, and I want an honest answer.’ “No, Bert, I don’t think they do,” said the young girl, with a blush, as a mental picture of Dr. Brookes rose suddenly before her. “Of course, it is all a matter of tempera- ment. Some men and some women bear their sorrows bravely, hiding them from the world and even smiling, while others have no strength to conquer their grief. Such people pine away and die, and, oh, I do pity them!” “Which would you do, Marion?” asked the youth, as he put his hand on her shoulder. “T am sure I don’t know,” began the girl, “T hope I would be brave and bear it nobly, but it is-one of those things that no one can say. I must wait, Bert, until I am forced to the experiment!” _ “Which I am sure you never will be,’’ said Pert, decidedly; “every one loves you, Mar- ion, and you love no one; ergo, every one will suffer, except yourself, and, to tell you the truth, that suits me perfectly!” “Why, Bert! How unchristian!” Marion, merrily. Bert gave a quick glance around to see that no one was looking, then he drew her toward him and pressed a kiss on her temple. ‘Not an hour should you suffer, if I could help it, dearie,” he said, quietly; “but there’s the first call! I had no idea it was so late!” The young girl ran away, with something suspiciously like tears upon her lashes. Her old friend’s tender words had stirred her very deeply. “Second call!’ cried the stage-manager, before she was half dressed. Marion hur- ried into her tasteful costume, while she rat- tled off a part of her dialogue. ‘Dead letter perfect, as usual, Miss Mar- owe, Sal 1SS iS, Butting: her head, i began