Marion Marlowe's Christmas Eve, or, The Treachery of a Factory Inspector — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

L8 MY QUEEN. “Miss French did not quite understand your position with us, yesterday, Miss Mar- lowe,” he said, pleasantly ; ‘and as she is ex- tremely sensitive, I] fancy she thought you were watching her movements. However, I have explained to her that you have nothing to do with her work, and are only endeavor- ing to aid our friend, the Doctor. Of course, to-day you will be with her again, and, if she is at all disagreeable, try not to no- tice it. The feeling will wear off very soon, I trust, and then you and she will be able to do good work together.” | Marion’s big gray eyes grew thoughtful as the gentleman spoke, and when he fin- ished she asked a simple question. “You have perfect confidence in Miss French as an inspector, then, Mr. Landale?” For just a minute the gentleman stared at her curiously. “T try to trust my inspectors as long as I can,” he said, evasively ; “and thus far I have never heard nor seen anything that reflected on Miss French's veracity.” Marion averted her eyes in an indifferent manner. She had no intention of arousing suspicion against the woman until she could furnish proof that she was justified in so doing. Five minutes later Mr. Landale went out, leaving Marion copying the list of places that she was to visit. “Well, if dat don’t beat de Dutch!” Tom's first “Wy, Miss told me las’ night dat de boss had went away back afore you the note to give to was comment. French ’ . oe? ¢' or an’ wouldn't be dis evenin . “And did she give me?” asked Marion, quickly. The bov nodded his head. There was no time to speak. The door had opened again, and this time it was Miss French who stood upon the threshold. For just a minute the woman looked angry and surprised. submit to his caprices. “Has Landale been here ?” she asked Tom. “Of course, w’y not!” asked the boy, a trifle impudently. “Tink he’s er goin’ ter quit his job ter please yer royal highness? Not on yer tintype! He ain’t dat kind of er chicken !”’ The frown passed from the woman’s brow in a miraculous manner, and as she turned to Marion she = actually smiling. “What uncertain creatures.men are,” she “Why, Mr. Landale told me yesterday that he would be away to- said, almost amiably. day, and he also dictated a note to you, Miss Marlowe.” ‘He seemed to have forgotten it this morn- Tate iy 3 as he has just given me my orders to accom- said the young girl, dryly; “inasmuch pany you again to-day, Miss French.” This time the woman scowled angrily, in spite of her attempt to hide her feelings. ‘Oh, very well, then. Of course, I must We vill start at once, if you please, Miss Marlowe.” . Marion handed her the list that Mr. Lan- dale had left, but kept her own copy hidden in her pocket. She had her own reasons for wanting to keep the addresses of the places visited, in order to be able to go back if she ever wished to do so: For the next four hours they visited shop after shop, and in each instance it seemed to Marion that the inspector was bent on mak- ing trouble. When they were ready for luncheon Miss French excused herself politely. She had an engagement to lunch with a friend, so Marion went alone to a small restaurant. The mo- ment she got inside she drew her list from her pocket. Miss French had deliberately passed the doors of several of the places where she had heen told by Mr. Landale to pay a visit. When Marion had finished her lunch, she walked directly to a certain building, which GEomichooks.com