Under Lock and Key; or, Marion Marlowe's Last Role — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

10 do I know that you could take care of your- self if you had your liberty ?” Marion drew a deep sigh, and the tears rushed to her eyes. “You are doing all you can for me; I see that,” she said, simply; “but, oh, you must help me, or I shall go mad indeed. Promise that you will help me to get away from this place, or notify my friends where those fiends have hidden me.” The attendant had her hand upon the door of the dismal, desolate room, and as she looked into the frightened face she felt a great throb of pity. ‘I promise,” she said, with a smile. “I will do what I can—that is all I can say. Now good-night, and I hope you will be bet- ter in the morning.”’ Marion could not answer, but she stepped slowly into the room. , The key clicked in the lock with an omi- nous sound, and as she heard it, the young girl fell like one who had received a blow. She realized of a sudden that she was helpless—a prisoner in a lunatic asylum. CHAPTER V. A LESSON ' “Where is she, Taylor?” The attendant from number seven asked the question as she entered ward three early the next morning. “Do you mean Miss Gordon, the new pa- tient ?” asked Miss Taylor, smiling, “the one who says she is an actress, and calls herself Marion Marlowe?” The attendant nodded her head, and then she, too, smiled broadly. She was quite pre- pared for what was coming. “Olt she did exactly what I expected! She went to pieces about daylight,” was the an- swer. “They moved her to the hospital ward about seven o'clock, and, of-course, it is just my luck that Mary should have to go with ++. “Mrs. Mason chased her over because the hospital is short-handed. Well, I hope Mary gets enough of her before she’s through. Do you know, she really believes that the girl isn’t crazy.” | She's as mad as a March hare! IN DISCIPLINE. her. ’ ,osh MY QUEEN. Just wait!” was the answer: “but how did she go to pieces, mentally or physically ?” “Both,” remarked Miss Taylor, with a shrug of the shoulders. “She kept talking about her lover, Dr. Reginald Brookes, and her friend, Bert Jackson, and a Captain Can- field, and she insisted that they were all rich, and that she was rich, too; and she offered us twenty-five thousand dollars apiece to let her out! What do you think of that, Bessie! An easy way to make money, eh? Poor thing! I’m sorry for her, for she’s as pretty as a picture! I hope she'll get well, but I very much doubt it.” ’ “Hello, girls!” called another voice at that minute, and another key clicked in a lock. “Now, what do you suppose has happened? Dr. Lee hasn't been in the wards this morn- ing, and when I saw Fenn he looked glummer than ever.” “Going to cut our wages, perhaps,” re- marked Miss Thompson, who entered the ward at that moment. “The addition of anather patient to their collection don’t seem to have cheered them up much,” replied Susie Adams; “but how is she, anyway? You ain’t saying a word on the subject, Thompson, and you were the only one of the lot who really believed her story.” She gave Miss Thompson an indifferent glance as she spoke, but the attendant was ssearching through a drawer for a clean apron at the time, and her answer was delivered in jerky sentences. f “Don’t bother about me. What I believe and don’t believe don’t cut any ice. I’m not staying at the Home Rest because I approve of all its doings. I’m staying here to keep my soul and body together, so I hardly think I shall grow gray-headed over the wrengs of my patients.” “Well, you did look upset last night, all right,’ was the retort; “‘but I must go back or bedlam will break loose upstairs. It don’t do to stayYfaway from those charming inno- cents very long! gas fixtures and pitch the furniture down the dust shaft.” ‘ “How is she?” asked Miss Taylor, as soon as Miss Adams had gone. They are liable to eat the Miss Thompson tied her apron and smoothed her hair before reps g. GOMINIEDOOKS (E(0)