Marion Marlowe's Noble Work, or, The Tragedy at the Hospital — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. 5 “Oh, it’s just beautiful!” cried Dollie, in genuine delight. “Oh, I just wish all of the boys from the Poor Farm could have such a chance! Marion will be overjoyed to hear of it, Bert. and tell her about it.” “T’ve done that Bert’s “You didn’t suppose I’d let I shall write to her this evening already,” was prompt reply. her hear it second-hand, did you? And, by the way, Dollie, I’ve got a secret for your ears. It has just come to me lately, and I’m as happy asa lark. I’m going straight ahead She’s the dearest girl I know, and I’m going to ask her to to make love to Marion. marry me.” “Oh, Bert lt” This was all that Dollie could say. She was quite overcome with astonishment at this matter-of-fact announcement. “Well, why shouldn't I,” asked Bert, in an injured tone. “Of course I don’t expect her to marry me now, but as soon as I am educated and have plenty of- ‘dough’ | don’t see any reason why she shouldn’t like me.” Dollie Marlowe burst out laughing, in spite of Bert’s seriousness. “But don’t you know that Marion has two “Why, she'll have time to marry both of them before lovers already?” she asked, gayly. you are old enough to ask her.” “T’m as old as she is, and I'll take chances on that,” said Bert, coolly; “but I say, Dol- lie, who the mischief is this bald-headed old duffer ?”’ “Hush!” whispered the girl in horror, as “a nat is: Mer, Atherton, my honorable employer.” she saw who was coming. “Honorable fiddlesticks!”’ said Bert, star- “Look out He’s too smooth to be real healthy, and you know ring straight at the gentleman. for him, Dolliey I don’t like his style. J must protect you, if you are going to be *.my sister.” CHAPTER [JII. MARION ARRIVES JUST IN TIME. At exactly noon the day after Bert Jack- son’s warning, Miss Dixon sat alone in the private office. She had been taking dictation all the morn- ing, and was a trifle weary. “It is very strange,’ she said to herself. “Mr. Atherton is not in the habit of taking his typewriter to lunch with him, and I have been here two years and never received an invitation.” Bob Day, the office boy, came in with some papers. There was a grin on his face as he laid them on the desk. “FHe’s mashed on her, sure pop!” he said, with great jubilation. “You just ought to seen him smirk at her when they went down in the elevator.” “Nonsense!”’ said Miss Dixon, sharply. “You-must be mistaken, Bob. Mr. Atherton was never known to take one of us to lunch- bB ] eon. “Oh, well, you ain’t all got her style,” said “Why, Miss Marlowe she’s got all of us stuck on the boy, unfeelingly. is a peach! Hefcs “Much good will it do her,” said Miss Dixon, sadly. “She’s too pretty for her own good—that’s what I’ve often told her.” “She'll wear diamonds if she sticks to me,” sang out bob, as he went noisily out of the office. Just outside in the hall he met a beautiful young girl. She had chestnut hair and large, flashing gray eyes, and carried her head and shoulders regally. “Did you want ter see Mr. Atherton?” asked Bob, quickly. He had seen that she was a stranger, and he was the guardian of the office. “Tam looking for Miss Marlowe, his type- writer, said the beautiful girl, sweetly. ECORNICOOOKS.€O SS An