Marion Marlowe's Cleverness, or, Exposing a Bold Fraud — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. this fact only conduced to deepen the mys- tery. ™ The widow was verging very closely upon hysterics again, so Mr. Everett took his de- parture after a few kindly words; but as he parted with Marion he thrust a bit of paper into her hand, which by a clever movement she concealed in her handkerchief and slipped into her pocket. a The young girl’s brain was fired with in- terest now, for she felt certain that Mr. Ever- ett had given her some instructions, and she was all impatience to help unravel the mys- etery, _™ She felt sure that there was a reason for her presence there. Mr. Everett had some _ deep motive for thus urging her to come and console a woman, who,’according: to Marion’s idea, was not especially in need of consola- tion. | | - But an hour-passed, and she had no oppor- tunity to look at the slip of paper, for her aunt was really suffering with hysterics now, to calm and soothe her. Arthur Stanton left them to go to the par- ler, where another batch of detectives were busy making examinations. Before he came back she had: succeeded in inducing her aunt to lie down in the mag- __-nificently furnished chamber, whose windows _ opened upon the court-yard. ~As soon as her _ aunt was asleep Marion went and stood by _ the window. She could see the balcony just _ outside her uncle’s apartment, and then her _ gaze wandered across the narrow space to — another window. Almost instinctively she knew this to be Howard Everett’s room. It was within easy speaking distance of her uncle’s balcony. But could a man step from his window over onto the balcony? She found herself asking the question, and then for some rea- - sen or other she shuddered violently. She turned away and tried to think of _ something else. Her position in the matter _ was beginning to look serious. Here she was, _ plunged deep in a dreadful mystery, and _ Without inkling of the part which she must _ play in its unraveling. __ There seemed to be no one else upon whom and Marion was more than busy endeavoring ~ 13 _her aunt could rely. Her friends were all the_ same—courteous and civil, but superficial. “Not a real, true friend in the lot,” whis- pered Marion, scornfully; then she began to wonder whose fault it was, and finally de- cided that it was her Aunt Susan’s. In the excitement ‘of her aunt’s attack of hysterics, Marion had quite forgotten Ever- ett’s note, but now as she seated herself by her bedside She remembered it and began to search hurriedly in her pocket for the scrap of paper. There was a gasp of horror as she found that it was gone! In drawing her handker- chief from her pocket she must have drawn the note out with it! Almost distracted at this result of her own carelessness she began searching the room, moving about on tiptoe so as not to disturb the sleeper. But the note was not to be found there, so~ she opened the door, and, closing it softly be- hind her, made her way back to the library, her keen glance flitting over the carpet as she searched. Just as she reached the library door she © heard the soft rustle of a skirt. The door was unlatched—she pushed it softly open. Mrs. Gregg was just before her, crossing the library floor. About the centre of the room she bent over suddenly and picked up something. In an instant Marion Marlowe was at her side. She had recognized the bit of paper in the woman’s fingers. “Excuse me, but that'is mine,” she said, as she took it unceremoniously from the woman’s hand. “I am greatly obliged to you for finding it for me.” The sweet voice was as gentle and calm as ever, but there was a light in Marion’s gray eyes that spoke of anything but calmness. The servant turned abruptly, her small eyes flashing like balls of fire. She seemed on the point of making a rude remark, but recollected herself in time, and only bowed coldly. “My aunt is asleep, and she has asked me to look after things,” went on Marion, calm- ly. “It is time for luncheon, is it not, Mrs. Gregg? I wish you would see that it is made ready the same as usual.” CORnNICLOO (C Sn(CO) am