Marion Marlowe in Indianapolis — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

LO surprise, after which he proceeded to read it very carefully. “Dr. REGINALD Brookes—Dear Sir; /the letter ran. “I regret exceedingly that I can- not make this communication in person, but, as it is impossible, I hasten with explanations. ! am a commercial traveler representing Sim- onds & Co., of Cleveland. at seven this morning, and*during my journey l came in my attention was attracted several times to a traveling companion, a man whom most men would call a typical ‘hayseed.’ This man’s rame was Joshua Marlowe, and he hailed from Hickorytown, Conn. I should not have given the man a thought had he not stupidly jumped from the train as it slacked up a few blocks below the depot. Myself and other passengers made inquiries later and found that he had been picked up insensible and taken to ‘Gerry’s,.a sort of combination rum- shop and hotel, in that vicinity.’ This after- noon I saw Marion Marlowe, your star, and was smitten with her beauty. You heard me ‘pumping’ your comedian in the lobby regard- ing her history, and now, I trust, you will un- derstand my motive. That beautiful young girl’s father is lying at death's door in this city. It is for you to Say whether she shall be told or not. town I would be pleased to see Joshua Mar- lowe and report his condition. As it is [ can- lf 1 were not obliged to leave not: therefore, I leave this letter.” The epistle was written in a firm, clear hand, with the signature, “Philip S. Dunlap,” affixed with a flourish. Dr. Brookes turned it over and over in his hand in a mystified manner. I[t was a simple communication, and seemed to radi- ate candor. In an instant he had decided that Marion must not know of it until he had proven the truth, but the thing that puzzled him. most was Joshua Marlowe's errand. What in the world had brought the old ‘praise her so highly, he’s MY QUEEN. farmer to Indianapolis? Bert Jackson came in just then, so the doctor slipped the letter into his pocket. He did not intend to tell even Bert until he had reflected a little. Bert was overflowing with good humor, and pro- ceeded to talk at once. He was too gay him- self to notice his friend's abstraction. “T tell you, Marion Marlowe is the greatest actress on the English-speaking stage,” he began, excitedly. “She is as beautiful as all the beautiful women put together, with a batch of cherubs, angels and goddesses added !” | ‘And to think that she was only a simple country girl,” said the doctor, shrewdly; “the daughter of a farmer, a rosebud straight | !?? from the kitchen-garden ! “There weren't any rosebuds in Joshua hed Marlowe’s garden, you can bet! interrupted Bert, rudely; “the deacon’s taste ran more to marigolds and cabbages. No, sir, the only rosebuds on that farm were Marion and Dol- lie, and now Marion is blossoming in the eyes of the whole world! Qh, it's a victory to be € proud of, I tell you, doctor !’’ . “Is Joshua Marlowe proud of her?” asked the young physician again, in the hope of leading Bert around to the proper subject. “You bet -he is!” But it is only lately !"" cried Bert. “He was awfully boorish and bull-headed at first, but they say now, since Marion has been sending him the papers that | actually bought himself a stove-pipe hat and wears a collar instead of a bandana on Sunday.” The doctor laughed, but he was growing nervous. He could hardly bring himself to ask the next question: “Wouldn't you think he’d want to see her on the stage, Jackson? Why didn’t he ever come to see her when she was playing in New York? I understand she supplies him with money.” Rert shook his head. (E Omicbooks on et, ee. Rr Og | (Elo ie