CHAPTER XV.
MARION SEES MR. MOORE.
“Carlotta” and “The Olio” were eclipsed entirely, and Otto Vondergrift took occasion to brag a little the next morning.
“That hundred wasn’t a bad investment, after all,” he said to his friend Rosen. “Why, there wasn’t a dozen people left in ‘The Olio’ after Ila began singing!”
“Here she comes!” said the song writer, as Marion entered. “I’ll leave you to make love to your little rustic prima donna!”
“Here are your hundred dollars, miss,” said Vondergrift, promptly, “and I’ll give you the same price if you will sing again this evening, and to-morrow I’ll make a contract to hire you for the season.”
Marion put the money in her pocket, and then faced him tremblingly.
“I had no idea, sir, that I was to sing in a drinking place,” she said, slowly; “believe me, your money would not have tempted me if I had known it. I am a temperance woman—I don’t believe in drinking liquor.”
Otto Vondergrift was so surprised that he could hardly speak for a moment.
“What, do you mean that you refuse my offer of one hundred dollars for an evening? Why, girl, are you mad, or are you dreaming?”
“I must refuse it, sir!” said Marion, sternly. “I do not approve of your concert hall, and I should feel disgraced were I to again appear in it!”
“Well, I’ll be blowed!” was the German’s only answer.
“I am very much obliged to you for the money,” said Marion, coolly, as she turned toward the door, after bidding him “good-morning.”
In a second a wave of disappointment and chagrin thrilled the manager’s frame; his face grew livid with rage as he took a step toward her.
“So they have bought you off at ‘The Olio,’ have they?” he sneered. “You’ve gone back on your benefactor, you little country innocent!”
“I have done nothing of the sort,” said Marion, with spirit. “I shall never sing in a concert hall again. I think it is dreadful! It is degrading!”
She swept out of the door and into the street, leaving the astounded manager cursing like a madman.
As quickly as Marion was safely out, she started for the office where her sister’s lover worked. There was joy at her heart that she was at last able to repay him.
“The end almost justifies the means,” she whispered to herself, “but I could never sing there again, never, never!”
Marion called Ralph outside into the little hallway. It was the first time they had met since Mrs. Haley told her story.
As quick as she could, Marion tucked the one hundred dollars into his band. The young man drew back, alternately flushing and paling, but the brave girl put her hands behind her.
“No, you must keep it, Ralph,” she said, firmly. “It is my duty to help clear up the cloud that hangs over you.”
“But how can you do that?” asked the young man, candidly. “I stole the diamond and pawned it, and what is more, I don’t regret it!”
Marion’s heart almost stopped beating for an instant, then she grasped his hand in both her own.
“Let us go to your aunt together and I will explain,” she said, quickly. “We can stop for the diamond on the way, and, oh, Ralph, don’t you see the matter must be settled?”
“Very well, Marion,” was Ralph’s answer, in a weary voice. “I’m ready to tell her, and I’ll be glad when it’s over.”
“Then you will go with me, right away?” asked the young girl, quickly.
Ralph Moore stopped suddenly and raised his head a trifle.
“No, Marion!” he said, distinctly. “I’m not such a coward! I will take your money and restore my aunt her diamond, but I will tell her the truth myself and abide by her decision!”
He looked so noble and manly that Marion’s heart thrilled as she looked at him.
“Oh, Ralph!” she cried, brokenly, “don’t ever do such a thing again! Believe me, it is better to starve than to be dishonest!”
A faint smile passed over the young man’s handsome features.
“I am free to confess that I would starve before I would steal for myself,” he said, slowly, “but do you think I would hesitate when Dollie was starving?”
Marion turned away. She had no words with which to answer him. She knew that he was wrong, yet she could not find it in her heart to censure him.
“You will come and see her to-night, will you not?” she said, finally. “Poor child, she has been worrying terribly about you!”
“And it has nearly killed me to stay away,” answered the young man, honestly, “but I could not face her; I was too utterly miserable, and yet, as I said just now, I would do the same thing over again under the same circumstances.”
“If you do, you will lose our friendship forever,” said Marion, solemnly. “Don’t do wrong again, Ralph, from no matter what motive.”
As Marion hurried up Broadway, she felt almost happy, for the consciousness of doing right was always her greatest pleasure.
She felt sure that Mrs. Haley would forgive him freely; then she breathed a sigh as she again faced the problem of the future.
There was no money left, and the rent was due to-morrow, while the date of that terrible mortgage was growing rapidly nearer.
As Marion walked along, she hardly raised her eyes from the pavement, but suddenly she became aware that something unusual was happening.
A half a block before her she saw a small danger sign standing in the middle of the pavement, and groups of idle loungers stood on the various corners, all gazing up at a very high building.
Marion looked up also, and then stared a little. They were raising an enormous safe to the seventh story window. It was the first time she had seen it done, and she looked on with interest.
The young girl had walked as near to the danger sign as she dared, when she suddenly saw a sight that thrilled her with horror.
A lady, with a little girl, came out of an adjoining building, and the child, seeing something on the sidewalk that attracted its attention, darted like a flash directly under the suspended safe, which weighed six tons at the least calculation.
The lady screamed, but seemed powerless to move, while a dozen voices shouted to the child from all directions. Marion’s nerves were so tense that she seemed unconscious for an instant, then an ominous creaking of the ropes brought her to her senses, and as the enormous cable parted, she darted forward like an arrow.