Marion Marlowe in Denver, or, The Tragedy of Pike's Peak — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

men I ever met and—well—that J am not quite sure but that I will marry him!” Miss Allyn sprang from her chair as if she had been shot. _ “Marion Marlowe! What do you mean?” she burst out, wildly. . “Exactly what I said,” murmured Marion, who was on the verge of tears. “Oh, do tell him, Alma! It may avert a catastrophe! At least it will save him from having bitter words with the doctor.” Miss Allyn walked as far as the door and then came back and put one hand gently upon Marion’s shoulder. “So you did fall in love at first sight, eh, Marion? Well, be very careful, darling, and try to analyze your feelings. There are so many sentiments thdt are akin to love. De- cide wisely, Marion! For Heaven’s sake, de- cide wisely !’”’ ah 3z _ She turned and left the room, closing the _ door behind her. _ The next moment Marion was lying on her bed in a fit of hysterical weeping. It had come to her so suddenly, this strange sensation, that it could not help dis- _ tressing her in its coming. All joy, all happiness, had vanished ‘now, and for a time, her spirit seemed overshad- - owed by something dark and ominous, some- _ thing that was vague and indistinct, yet pregnant with reality. “Did she love him or not?” The question seemed to mock her. If it were some desperate move that she must de- cide, it could not torture her more cruelly. Over and over again the face of Reginald Brookes rose before her, and she began com- _ paring the two in her niental vision. The doc- tor was so candid, so fearless, and, withal, so _ tender and true; yet she had never felt this _ mysterious sensation in his presence, and the glamour of fascination had not enveloped him. _ She sat up after a little and tried to reason _ it out, but, after ten minutes of hard think- _ ing, she was no nearer a solution. __ Why should the sentiment of love make _ amy one unhappy? Why, she ought really _ to be in the “seventh heaven” of delight, yet here she was actually crying her eyes out. ” She rose from the bed and looked at her- a 8 > MY QUEEN. 15 self in the mirror. Her cheeks were scarlet and her eyes red from weeping. “Tt can’t be love! It is just an infatuation,” she whispered aloud. “I think he is hand- some and very attractive, but how can I love a man whom I do not know—whom [ never even heard of until yesterday morning?” The reaction was coming and Marion was wise enough to understand it. _ This clever lawyer had fascinated her senses—he had magnetized her with his brilliancy, but she did not really love him. She drew a long breath when she had thought it out and then, with a parting glance at her heavy eyelids in the glass, she sat down to write the lawyer a letter. For several minutes she sat staring at the blank sheet of paper before her, for her mind seemed to be wandering obstinately. So Mr. Temple was still jealous for fear she loved the dctor. As Marion recalled Alma’s words, she smiled very sadly. “Oh, I never was so near loving in my life!’ she burst out, suddenly. “He is so wonderful, and his voice is heavenly! I never heard such a voice! It is just like music !”’ The pen was thrown down and Marion rose to her feet. There was_a tap upon her door, and she — went immediately to open it. A magnificent basket of orchids was hand- ed to her by one of the bell boys of the hotel and, almost involuntarily, she knew they were from the lawyer. As she placed the basket upon the table a dainty note slipped from the mass of blos- soms and, as the young girl took it in her hand, the blushes mantled her very forehead. It was from Mr. Waldo. She knew the handwriting at once. Marion held it a mo- ment, for her hand was trembling violently ; then she did a thing which she had never done before—she raised the tinted note to her lips and kissed it fervently. “That is for the sensation that I feel, whatever it is,” she whispered dreamily, “Tt may be love and it may be infatuation— whichever it is, it is perfectly heavenly !”’ A moment later she seated herself again at the table. She had reap th iebDOOKS iGO in