Marion Marlowe in Denver, or, The Tragedy of Pike's Peak — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

Alma bent and kissed her, but there was no time to say more, for the curtain was up and the audience was clamoring for the heroine. Pe ; _CHAPTER V. SOMETHING WRONG. - -_ ° of the stage there was a moment of silence which was followed by a sound of applause that fairly shook the building. She was dressed in a robe of trailing white satin with a girdle and necklace of milk white pearls, and her rich, chestnut hair bound down with narrow white bands in the Grecian fashion. The young girl was positively superb, both in face and figure. Suddenly Marion’s great luminous eyes swept the sea of faces before her and the audience knew she was looking for some one. | The applause ceased suddenly, and the ~ young girl should have begun her lines, but something had evidently happened that held her speechless, and for one long minute, the great audience stared in amazement. _ The young actress’ eyes were riveted at last upon the face of Homer Waldo, the law- yer, who was seated in the right proscenium box, on the level with the stage. e- The lawyer was alone now, and was lean- ing forward, gazing at her intently, and, as _ the audience stared, the members of the company, who had congregated in the wings, were also staring in an agony of consterna- tion. , “He has mesmerized her! Oh, go on, some one, and do something!” whispered Alma Allyn, sharply. “Marion is in a trance! She must be or she would not stare so! Do hurry, somebody, and think what to do! In another minute some one will hiss her.” / “Tf she would only speak her first lines and give me my cue,” groaned the doctor, as he set his teeth together, savagely. “Let little Ruby go on and give her a kiss! She’s' clever enough to say something, I am sure! Once get her eyes from that man’s face and the spell will be broken,” murmured Mrs. Burnside, in agony. — & * : » = *. ba - vs _* ' . . . © As Marion advanced toward the center . , MY QUEEN. . But Marion was recovering her self-pos- session now. There was a half-scared look upon her face, then her lips tightened reso- lutely. The next second she turned from the fatal box and glanced appealingly at her audience. Another storm of applause encouraged and cheered her—with a graceful movement she swept forward toward the footlights. “Safe!” Dr. Brookes murmured the word as he heard Marion’s sweet voice speaking her lines, a little hurriedly at first, then gradu-. ally growing calmer and calmer. She had won the struggle with something, she knew not what, but not for the worid would she glance toward that box again! For some reason she dreaded to again en- counter the gaze of Homer Waldo. Dr. Brookes heard his cue and was on the stage like a flash. As his manly voice rang out clearly the young girl seemed to regain her courage. Mr. Temple watched her from the rear of the stage, but he could only understand in part what was happening before his vision. “She loves him or she would not show such joy at his appearance,” he thought, as he watched them; then he shut his teeth savagely and stroked his mustache to hide his nervousness. Over and over again he had been jealous of his leading man, but | always, until now, he had been able to con- quer it, but now, with that great gulf of his own poverty yawning between them, he could not quite forgive this young man for being in love with Marion. He went into his office and locked the door. He could not bear to look on at the love-making upon the stage, for every ten- der speech of the leading man cut his heart like a two-edged sword. What had happened to Marion he did not know, nor was he in any condition to con- sider it at that moment. Meanwhile, each member of the company was working heroically. They meant that their last performance in Denver should be long remembered by their audience. Marion had recovered entirely by the sec- ond act, but Alma could see that she was goading herself on with her magnificent will, - comicbooks.coln