Marion Marlowe's Escape, or, A Dangerous Mistake on the Road — page 22: what you’re looking at

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20 ; MY QUEEN. toils before long; but you seem to have es- caped so far, Miss Allyn.” “es, I’m the odd one!” replied Miss Al- Ive, gayly. “When Cupid goes around he al- \.ays overlooks me, but I’ll get square some cay! [ll marry in spite of him!” “You will, if a certain young man I know !2s his way,’ said Marion, slyly; “and, by the way, Alma, are we not to see him on this trip? It will be dreadful for you to go a month without a glimpse of him.” “»o she hasn’t escaped, after all,” laughed Mrs. Burnside. “Just see her blush! Why, she must be really smitten! a business-like girl—I wouldn’t have sus- picioned it!” . “Well, of all things! As if we business- like people couldn’t feel affection!’ retorted Miss Allyn. ‘‘Why, we are the ones that get it the worst when it comes, but, perhaps, that is because it comes so seldom. Look at Marion, now. She has had dozens of lovers, and yet there’s not a name that will bring a blush to her cheeks! I just envy that girl her equanimity of temperament!” “Ts that what you call it? I thought it was just hard-hearted stubbornness,” said Marion, half sadly. “I have known such noble men, and yet I could not love them. I adore them ‘as friends, but it never seems to go deeper. Sometimes I wonder if I shall ever really love. It must be perfect bliss! I just envy Alma!” “Oh, Marion, don’t!” cried Miss Allyn, blushing deeper. The doctor’s lips were smiling, but his eyes looked sad as he fixed them in an intent gaze upon Marion’s sweet features. She had spoken plainly, but he had known -the truth before, consequently the utter hope- lessness of his love did not overwhelm him. “T am sure you will love, deeply and sacredly, some day,” he said, very softly; “and, for your sake, | hope it may come soon, for loving is delightful!” ‘Whether one’s passion is returned or not, it is beautiful to love. I only hope that I may live long enough to congratulate your accepted lover.” There was a tenderness in his voice that no one could mistake, and for a moment all eyes were turned curiously upon Marion, And she’s such “I know one person who will not congrat- ulate Marion’s accepted lover,’ remarked Miss Allyn, quickly. ‘Bert Jackson won’t look upon him in such a Christian spirit! He’d make it hot for him, you bet, and I wouldn’t blame him, either! I believe upon my soul I should be jealous myself of Marion’s love!” “Nonsense!” Marion tried to speak merrily, but she was deeply affected. The train stopped at Hudson as she made the exclamation. CHAPTER IX. THE TRAGEDY. “We are done for! Lemadrid has the Oneida, and Barton is a traitor!” Mr. Temple made the announcement in a terrible voice, as he came into the car, wav- ing a télegram excitedly. | “The wretch! To sell us to the enemy!” cried Mrs. Burnside, pramptly. “T’d like to horsewhip the rascal!” roared Bert, who had just opened an evening paper. Then he suddenly caught his breath as he noticed a glaring headline. “You were right about those freshets, old man. They have been working fearful havoc up the State,” he said, as he glanced down the column; “no end of bridges have been destroyed. I think ’ll go and talk to the conductor.” He hurried from the car as he spoke, but the others hardly heeded him. The conditions at Cohoes were considerably more exciting. “T simply won't hire a hall; that is all there is about it,” said Mr. Temple, savagely. “The Oneida is mine, and I'll make a fight for it.” “But suppose it isn’t yours! Suppose Bar- ton hired it for MLemadrid,” asked Dr. Brookes, eagerly, “Then the jig is up,” said Mr. Temple, du- hiouslv: “and I'd rather take a horsewhip- ping than be beaten by Lemadrid.” Marion glanced out of the window. It was still very dark. Two storms had evidently met, and the rain beat against the windows ‘ncessantly. While the others were talking, she consulted her time-table. There was only one stop before reaching JOOS ro