Marion Marlowe in Denver, or, The Tragedy of Pike's Peak — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

12 Whom should she ask to go with her if Alma did not come back? As she asked herself the question, she glanced around the table. Mrs. Burnside had only just ordered the breakfast and, besides, she had her child, lit- tle Ruby, to attend to, and Miss Ellis was hurrying in order to get out to do some shop- ping, while Ida Inez, the soubrette of the company, had just left the table to write a letter to her son, whom she had recently placed in a boys’ school in Chicago. There was no one she could ask without inconvenience to them; she dreaded to go _ alone for some reason or other, As she was trying to decide, a boy brought her a card. In an instant her brow cleared and she felt almost happy. Mr. Wilson had come for her and was in the parlor. She breathed a sigh of relief that it was not Mr. Waldo. “There is only one paper to sign,” he said, as she joined him a moment later. “It will take but a minute of your time, Miss Mar- lowe, but it is really obligatory that you come to the office and, as I was obliged to pass the hotel, I could not resist stopping for you.” Marion explained her dilemma, and the lawyer laughed good-naturedly. “Then my call was opportune, and [ am glad,” he said, courteously. “I will bring you back in a half hour or, perhaps, even sooner.” | Marion stepped into his carriage and was whirled away. In ten minutes they reached the firm’s spacious chambers. As Mr. Wilson opened the door of his pri- vate office to usher her in, his head clerk “called to him in a tone of excitement. Marion stepped into the cozy office and the door closed behind her. The next moment Mr. Waldo rose from his partner’s desk and took a step forward. There was a word of greeting as he saw who it wags—then Marion felt a hot, eager hand close over her cold fingers and she was led forward to a seat close beside the handsome lawver. L 7 | MY QUEEN. CHAPTER VII. AN AVOWAL, | For a moment Marion’s heart seemed to stand absolutely still, yet, marvelous to say, the sensation was pleasant. | This man’s presence affected her strangely enough, each tone of his voice sent a thrill through every fibre, and she seemed attracted toward him by some subtle influence. _ Could it be th®& she loved him? It was impossible to tell. All she knew was that as he murmured the merest commonplaces in her ear she seemed to feel absurdly happy. Suddenly it occured to her vaguely that he was still holding her hand and that she had been sitting in his office for nearly five minutes, During that time he had been talking con- stantly of her acting, although Marion knew that his compliments were almost too flow- ery, yet she seemed to lack the spirit or dig- nity to resent them. She drew her hand from his timidly, and after this, her courage came back to her. She must not and would not yield to the sweet sensation that seemed overpowering her! For what did she know of this fascinating man, except that he was a lawyer with a great reputation? . | Was he noble, honorable, chivalrous and just? She had known him far too short a time to be able to answer any of these questions. “As she raised her eyes slowly to his face, she found him smiling down at her, but there was a look in his eyes that puzzled her ex- ceedingly. | “Vou are frightened, little one,” he said, in his wonderful voice. “You are not ac- customed to words of praise or, rather, you will not believe what I say is true, that you are a most charming actress.” “T am very glad, indeed, that you think so,” she murmured, softly, “but it is true @hat I cannot believe quite all you say. I know I have talent, but oh, no, not genius! IT must work hard for my laurels, Mr. Waldo, if I ever wear any.” “You are too modest to see your own genius,” was the mus(@OlaniKe sole) Creer