Marion Marlowe in Salt Lake City — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

¥ - Te" * | ie si ." _” * 2 ing. MY QUEEN. toward them escorting a somewhat haggard- looking woman. “My wife, Miss Marlowe, courteous tone. Marion drew a breath of relief as she touched the lady’s hand in greeting. She felt confident now that Mr. Canton, at least, observed the letter of the law, but why did his wife gaze into her face so vic- iously, and why should her hand have Been so cold when Marion grasped it? These were two questions which tormented her through a fairly pleasant dinner, but for which she could find no satisfactory answer. ’ ie. wid, In. a CHAPTER IV. AN ASTONISHING BIT OF INFORMATION. Marion roomed alone at the hotel, so she did not see her friend Miss Allyn that night, and her la8t thought as she went to sleep was of Artemas V. Canton. He was such an en- tertaining and chivalrous gentleman. There was something wondrously attractive'in both his words and glances. She was. wondering if there were many more such men in Utah and if that was why so many’women fell in love with them, when she dropped off to sleep -and slept soundly until morning. Almost before she was dressed a bellboy brought her a note from Mr. Temple. She had received an honor, indeed, and from Mr. Canton. He and his wife would call at ten o’clock and take her for a look at the Mormon Tabernacle and Temple, after which he’ would escort her himself through the Endowment House, wherein the initia- tion into the Mormon belief or “sealing” was effected. There were few men in Utah, hé explained, who could enter this “Holy of Holies” as he could, and, of course, Marion was delighted at the opportunity to see it, but she regretted that Alma had not been invited to join her. “I suppose it is because fam the star of the company that I am singled out for this honor,” she mused,-a little sorrowfully, “and, of course, J must help Mr. Temple discharge his obligation, but I do hope Mr. Canton will bring his wife without fail. I would hate to go alone through that mysterious build- 3? . ‘tor - this. act, 9 7 She smiled in anticipation of a rare treat as she hastily donned her clothing. She would breakfast in her room, as it was al- ready nearly half-past nine. A gentle tap at the door interrupted her musings, and the young girl crossed the room and opened it premptly. A woman, perhaps forty years of age and dressed all in black was standing in the hall. There was something mysterious both in her face and manner, “Pardon me, but may I see you a moment, miss,” she said, in a nervous whisper. “It is very important; pray do not refuse me.” Marion opened the door wider and smiled brightly at her visitor. “Of course you can see me, if you wish to,” she said, politely. ‘Please be seated, and do tell me what I can do for you.” : Her visitor’s face was growing so pale,that the young girl spoke eagerly. She seemed to feel instinctively that this woman was in. serious trouble. “You are Miss Marion Marlowe, the ac- tress, are you not?” began her guest in a cautious whisper. “The young lady who is so rich and who just acts for pleasure, and you are to have a million settled on you when you are married, is not that so, Miss Mar- lowe ?” Marion’s eyes flew open and she almost gasped. She had not yet heard of her mas- cot’s marvelous stories, and she was begin- ning to think that her visitor was crazy. “T know all about it,” went on the woman, excitedly. “You see, I heard my husband telling it to one of the ‘seven presidents’ at my home last night. They thought I was preparing the dinner, but I was listening, Miss Marlowe, and oh, my poor, dear child. I have come to warn you!” She half rose from her chair as she spoke. but Marion drew away from her with a shiver. What in the world did she mean by her being “rich and just acting for pleasure?” “Yes! Yes! I must warn you, although I shall be cursed for doing so, I know!” went on the woman, more shrilly. “I know I am only a woman, and, that my soul is my husband’s! I shall lie in my orave forever Miss Marlowe, but I must I must! -It vali hifleractacke@om speak!