Marion Marlowe in St. Paul, or, The Company's Mascot in a Double Deal — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

‘couldn't have a young fellow! fathers for me, please—but, of course, ‘beg- Oa ee ee ee | a ¥ -? tw *» ; : MY QUEEN. 13 and she was able to finish her indignant ex- clamation. “That gentleman in the box was looking at me. You are mightily mistaken if you think it was Miss Marlowe!” “So he is the ‘mash’ you are going to dine with, is it?’ asked Miss Ellis, tantalizingly. “Well, for my part, I’d dine alone, if I No grand- gars can’t be choosers!’” She ran off through the scene-room before the girl could reply, and a moment later she and Bert were having a cozy chat together in the wings, while Marion and the doctor held the audience spellbound with one of their dainty love scenes. When Miss Watson’s next cue came, she kept the stage waiting for nearly a minute, and when she finally made her appearance she was flushed and nervous. She had been talking outside of the stage door with a young man who had been seated all the evening in the rear of the theatre, and it was plain that she was laboring under ~ great excitement. The stage-manager scowled at her as she passed him, and Dr. Brookes, who was wait- ing for her to enter the dialogue, was obliged to “fake’’ a line in order that the au- ~dience should see no break in the conversa- t10n. But Miss Watson only tossed her head in- differently and repeated her lines parrot- like. She was in a mood that bordered on rashness. Safely hidden in her pocket were two extraordinary letters, both offering her ‘large sums for a trifling service—a service which she was just wicked enough to per- form gladly. Would she introduce the writers to Marion Marlowe? ° That was the purport of both letters, and both had been answered. Whether the writers’ motives were honor- able or not she neither knew nor cared. She was jealous of Marion; and, besides, she wanted money. As she stumbled through her lines her brain was busy. It was no simple undertak- ing to deceive the young girl, for, although _ Marion was unexperienced in the wickedness t~ Aw. —) ak — of the world, she had the instinct of caution, and always insisted upon candor. Miss Watson was almost hysterical when she left the stage, but she was determined to succeed in her malicious efforts. “May I speak with you just a minute, Miss Watson?” ; Marion asked the question as she tapped on the soubrette’s dressing-room door, after she had taken her usual curtain call at the end of the third act. é There was a sharp rustle of paper, as though the soubrette was secreting some- thing. Then Miss Watson bade her enter in an extraordinarily polite manner. “Do come in, Miss Marlowe! fully glad to see you! honor me with a call!” eagerly, “IT don’t have much time to be sociable when I am at the theatre,’ was Marion’s an- swer; “but as neither of us go on until nearly the middle ef the act, I thought there was time to have a few words with you.” she closed the door as she spoke, and then went straight up to the actress. “Dear Miss Watson, please d6n’t be angry, but I do want to advise you!” she said, gen- tly. “Don’t, pray don’t, accept any invita- tions to suppers with strange men! You know as well as I do, what their invitations mean! They will surely lead to trouble— you know it, don’t you?” Miss Watson drew back, and her face flushed hotly. “Who told you I had?” she stammered. angrily. “Oh, I suppose it’s that Miss Ellis! . The mean, spiteful creature!” “Miss Ellis did not say a word,” said Marion, quickly. ‘Mrs. Burnside merele mentioned that you had received a note. and I could not help worrying for fear it was an invitation to dinner, and that you had ac- cepted it.” ' “Well, what if it was, and what if I do aca cept it, Miss Marlowe? Whose business is it, I should like to know 2” retorted the girl, furiously. The lovely gray eyes of the young star filled with tears in an instant, but she only laid her hand tenderly upon her companion’s shoulder. conniclooolks.con I am aw- It isn’t often you she rattled off,