Marion Marlowe's Escape, or, A Dangerous Mistake on the Road — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. 3 try, her face was fairly radiant with anticipa- tion. “Oh, I know we are going to have a glori- ous time, Bert,” she said, as she removed her hat and leaned back upon the luxurious cush- ions with a smile. “Just think!” she continued; “we will visit a dozen cities, and, so far in my whole life, I Oh, I do hope, for all our sakes, that this round tour will be suc- have seen only one. cessful !” “You can make it that alone,-Marion,” re- “The brilliant star of the Temple Theatrical Company is all that marked Bert, gallantly. is needed to bring in the natives from far and near, and corral the residents of both highways and byways! Why, if our adver- tising man has done his work properly, we shall need no other booming than the name of ‘Marion Marlowe,’ for already your fame has spread from pole to pole, and is-at the present moment echoing in the unfathom- able spaces between the less luminous orbs of the solar system!” “Oh, Bert, do stop! bugler for the company !’’ laughed the young girl. You are not the “T'll ask Mr. Temple to send you on ahead after this. A little of your oratory on a bill-board would ‘boom’ us splendidly !” “Can't you go out and give the engine a push, Bert? I’m just dying to get out of this stuffy old station!” called out a stylishly- dressed young woman just at that moment. “In a hurry to earn your laurels, Miss Al- lyn?” retorted the youth. “Let’s see, you are Well, your ‘weigher-in’ is a corker at drawing on his imagination ! the ‘leading lady,’ aren’t you? You'd make a better ghost, in my Opinion!” as “Thanks awfully,” said Alma Allyn, with a jolly laugh. “I’m a trifle pale, I admit, but you’d look so yourself if you had stayed awake all night so as not to oversleep in the morning and then committed a thousand words eating your to memory before luncheon.” “Did you do that, Alma?” It was Marion who spoke. chair around, so that she looked at Miss Al- She swung her lyn. “I came pretty near doing it,’ said Miss Allyn, honestly. . “Really, Marion, you can say what you will, the responsibility of my new position is perfectly awful! I’ve been a newspaper reporter for years, and it didn’t niake a wrinkle, but a week’s rehearsing to be an actress has driven me gay-headed !” “And I’ve taken to drink!’ called out a jovial voice from a chair across the aisle. A handsome young man of aristocratic bearing was just taking a glass of ice-water from the porter, and, as he spoke, every member of the company laughed gayly. “So long as you don’t drink anything. stronger, I guess the dissipation won’t hurt you, doc; but here we go at last!” cried Bert, with a war whoop. “Dear me! Where is the baby r”’ asked Miss Allyn, suddenly. “That blessed child is my only salvation! Every time I begin to shiver over the prospects of this terrible ‘first night’ I look at that cherub and wonder how she stands it. If she has been on the stage a year, I guess I can endure it for a month; but then, stage children are wonders—I al- ways admired them.” d “Ruby is one,” said Marion, laughing and showing her white, even teeth. “She inherits her histrionic talent from her mother, I guess, and Mrs. Burnside is a splendid ‘first old lady,’ isn’t she, Alma?” “Hush! Don’t let her hear you!’ cried Bert, warningly. “It’s bad enough to be the ingenue or soubrette, but imagine calling a gushing young thing like Mrs. Burnside a ‘first old lady’ !” “You'll get used to our stage technique aiter a while, Jackson,” laughed the manager, CORNICLOOOKS.E®