Marion Marlowe's True Heart, or, How a Daughter Forgave — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

MY QUEEN. _5 a letter in my pocket this minute accepting my application.” Her parents stared at her curiously, so Marion went on. She was glad to see that they took an interest in what she was telling them. “Ves, I applied for a dozen or more posi- tions during the first few weeks I was in New York, and this morning, just as 1 was coming away, I got my first acceptance. I’m to go to Charity Hospital, on Blackwell’s Island, as soon as I go back, and I’m just crazy to be- gin, for I know I will like nursing.” “But I tho’t yew wanted to be a singer,” said her father, a little vaguely. “Yew've got a bootiful voice, Marion, it’s a pity yew can't use it.” Marion smiled at these words of praise from her father, but did not show by a look that she thought them surprising. ia sang one night in a concert hall,” she said, laughing. “I had no idea what the place was like before I sang, or I would never have done it; but I guess it didn’t hurt me, and I made a hundred dollars.” “What!” cried her father and mother, in one breath. 7 Marion nodded her head in a knowing manner. > “They offered me that évery night if I would sing,” she said, proudly; “but it was a drinking place, and I wotildn’t do it.” ~ sDeacon Marlowe was still staring at her as though he could not believe his senses. Such tales as this set his old brain to spinning. “Everything that is wicked pays well in New York,” said Marion, sadly ; “but it’s an- other thing when you are honest and want to live decently.”’ Mrs. Marlowe began weeping again, this time very quietly. “Tew think what we have come tew,”’ moaned, behind her apron. “Our two daugh- ters in a big, wicked city a-tryin’ tew earn she their livin’, an’ yew an’ me, Joshuy, a-goit’ tew leave the old home an’ go tew the Poor Farm, ar’ it’s all on account of yewr hardness an’ overbearin’—it’s all yewr fault, Joshuy !"" Marion stopped her before she could go any farther. “See here, mother,” she said, brightly, “things ain’t quite so bad as you think! In fact, what do you suppose I’ve come back for, if it isn’t to help you?” “What, yew help a father that’s been so hard on yew!” sobbed the woman, “Yew come back to help me, Marion?” gasped her astonished father. Marion slowly drew a roll of bills from the purse in her hand and laid it on her mother’s lap before she answered. “You’ve been liard on us, father, but we forgive you,” she said, gently. “I saved a little girl’s life in New York a day or two ago, and her mother was so grateful that she rewarded me handsomely. There’s five hun- dred dollars to pay off the mortgage, father, and all I want you to say is that you forgive your little Dollie!” There was a noble light shining from Mar- ion’s eyes. As the old farmer looked up at her he burst out crying. CHAPTER III. . A POOR WIFE'S DETERMINATION. It was almost train time when Marion left her father and mother, now radiantly happy As she walked briskly along the rough, frozen road in the little farmhouse kitchen. to the station the young girl’s face was fairly She had saved her sister Dollie, and now she had saved the old home. She could hardly believe it seemed possible that she was still Marion Marlowe. “Just a simple little country girl,” she whis- pered to herself. glowing with pleasure. “Why, only a few months ago I was driving the cows down this very road and wearing a calico dress and a ging- ECORNIECLOOOKS CO