Marion Marlowe in Columbus, or, Accused of a Crime — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

12 a dynamite cartridge in there! Coming from Cleveland as he did, who knows but that he may be one of those blood-thirsty rioters with a fad for explosions!” “It wouldn’t be a bad plan to look over the stuff,’ said Mr. Temple, seriously. “I’d like to get at the private trunks of the com-. pany, anyway. The only ones we’ve gotten out so far are full of wardrobes.” “T’ll get one of the trainmen to help me,” said Hinton, turning back. “Dick seems to be all right, but bill is as sharp as a butcher. He hasn't got over having to open that car— he was chewing nails when I left him!” “Oh, he’s only a surly brute! There are lots like him,” said Mr. Temple. “A good- natured trainman is as rare as an amiable stage-manager—but I must go nearer to the stage, Hinton. I want to hear how Wiggin reads his part.” The new member of the cast was holding his manuscript gracefully and, just as the manager came up, he read several lines very creditably. The company were all watching him closely, but he was not at all abashed, and as he put in the “business” that his part called | for, he strode the ties dramatically. “He’s been on the boards right,” whispered Mr. Temple to Marion. “He’s got feeling for the réle, and he'll make up for it splendidly. As like as not we have before, all secured a treasure !”’ “A yery unique one,” laughed Marion, “but so much the better! His appearancé can be laid to the eccentricity of genius.” Mr. Temple turned to her and his voice grew gentle. “You are wonderfully gifted,” he almost whispered. “You have beauty as well as talent, Miss Marlowe, and these, combined with your sweetness and goodness, make you a rare woman.” Marion blushed with pleasure because the MY QUEEN. words were honest. The next moment Mr. Temple had turned his back upon the others and was speaking even more softly. “Oh, Miss Marlowe—Marion! If you only knew how I love you! I have told you often enough, but I am sure you do not comprehend it! Am I never, never to be rewarded ?” Miss Allyn was declaiming now in a loud voice, and all eyes were fixed upon her, so -Marion’s embarrassed glance was not no- ticed by the others. “If I only could love you I should be © so happy,” she said, honestly, “but I seem to be fated to know nothing of love. I guess I am to die an old maid, Mr. Temple!” A mischievous smile had crept into her face, but Mr. Temple’s answer was almost vehement. “Never! You are too sweet—too alto- gether lovely !’ he whispered, sharply. “You will shine like a star in some good man’s heart, Marion! It would be unjust and cruel if you were never a wife! A good man would be wronged and the whole world would }>? be the loser The young girl looked startled, for the words had been spoken fiercely. As she glanced up at her manager, she seemed to un- derstand. His feelings had been stirred to their depths, he could not restrain them. “T doubt if I shall ever marry,” she tried to say, calmly. “At least, not until I have ac- complished a great deal. I should wish to be a woman that a husband would be proud of. It is not right, in my opinion, to marry until you can take something to your hus- band.” “But you have beauty, sweetness, talent,” began Mr. Temple. “Oh, can’t you see, Marion, that you are all that could be de- sired? The man who would wish more would be a blind egotist or an idiot!” Marion smiled very, weekly—-she hardly: