CHAPTER V.

A SAD PARTING OF FRIENDS.

When Dollie burst into the little room she was breathless with excitement and indignation. Much to her surprise, she found Marion there before her.

“Oh, sister!” she blurted out, “Silas Johnson is here! And what do you think! he still wants me to marry him!”

Marion stared at her in genuine astonishment. “What! Silas here in the city, and you have seen him, Dollie?”

“I met him in this very block just as I was coming home,” said Dollie, pulling off her gloves, “and, oh, of all the awkward-looking gawks! I never realized before that Silas was so homely!”

“That is because you had never seen stylish men before you came to New York,” said Marion, quickly; “I find myself comparing every one I ever met with Mr. Ray—city men are so handsome—and then they dress so much better.”

“Silas had on a flannel shirt and cowhide shoes,” went on Dollie, laughing, “and I never before believed that they could look so ugly! But listen, Marion, he says he has a mortgage for five hundred dollars on father’s farm, but that as he thinks I could save him that amount in time he is willing to let it go if I will marry him!”

“He expects you to earn it weeding gardens, milking cows and churning butter, I suppose,” said Marion scornfully.

“But, sister, just think! Where will father get the money? He can never, never pay Sile such an amount, and he’ll turn them out if he doesn’t get the money!”

“Turn them out of the old homestead!” exclaimed Marion, turning pale. “The thing is outrageous! He must never do it! Never!”

“Then I’ll have to marry him,” said Dollie, dolefully. “There’s no other way to settle the matter.”

“I’m not so sure,” said her sister, shutting her white teeth together. “There are nearly three months before the mortgage is due. I must think a little, Dollie; but hush! Here comes Miss Allyn!”

Miss Allyn came in, carrying the typewriter in her arms, and for the next hour the girls almost forgot their troubles.

“I’ll learn just as fast as I can,” said Dollie, clapping her hands.

“And I’ll do my best to get you a position,” said Miss Allyn, kindly, “but I warn you it will be with some old codger who has a red-headed wife to look after him! You shall not have any champagne luncheons and _tete-a-tetes_ with your employer if I can prevent it!”

“What do you mean?” asked both girls together.

“Just this,” said Miss Allyn, with her characteristic brevity—“a pretty typewriter is often looked upon as lawful prey by some men who employ one in their private office. I know some typewriter girls who tell me that they go to business in a regular mask—don’t dare wink or smile for fear they’ll be tangled up in a divorce suit. Of course it is not so in all cases, but a working girl must keep her eyes open in a big city. There’s more temptation to the square inch than you get in ten miles in the country. Look out, girls! Take my advice, wear green veils over those pretty faces.”

“Thank you for your good advice,” said Marion, sadly; “we have already learned that there are many pitfalls in the city, but with a friend like you we are forewarned, Miss Allyn. Oh, how fortunate we are to have won your sympathy.”

“Nonsense!” said Miss Allyn, as she started for the door. “I’m only a poor reporter doing space work for my living. It’s not in my power to be a friend to any one except to give them a few points on the things I am most familiar with, and they are—the ways of the world and the wiles of the wicked.”

She went out laughing, and just then there came a peal at the bell. Marion ran out and looked over the banisters, and then ran down to greet Mr. Ray and his sister.

“Oh, I am so glad to see you!” she cried as she hugged and kissed Miss Ray—“I was so afraid you would go away without coming to see me.”

Mr. Ray shook hands with Dollie and then turned to Marion. He seemed older and sadder than she had ever seen him. Not much like the gay-hearted young man who had befriended her so bravely on that eventful day when she rescued poor Dollie.

“We are going abroad for a time,” he said, simply. “Now that father is dead I think it is best. A year or two abroad, and, perhaps, some of our griefs will be forgotten.”

As Marion glanced at their robes of mourning she could hardly keep back the tears. These were her only friends in the big city, and now she was going to lose them.

“I think you are wise,” she managed to say, at last, “poor Miss Ray will be benefited greatly by the change. It must be dreadful for her here, when every one knows of her wretched experience.”

“It is indeed,” was the answer, as Mr. Ray glanced lovingly at his sister. Miss Ray was talking with Dollie and had not heard their words, but she came over and joined them before Marion could answer.

“My poor sister Ada is heartbroken,” she said, sadly. “Just think! She has lost her lover, and all through me. I feel terribly about it, and yet I think she is lucky.”

“She is indeed!” said her brother, promptly, “I can’t imagine a fellow being such a cad as to throw over a sweet girl just because of something unpleasant in the life of her sister.”

He looked at Marion as he spoke, and as their eyes met she blushed charmingly. Such eloquent glances as Mr. Ray’s needed no interpreter of their meaning.

“Oh! I despised him as soon as I read of it!” broke in Dollie, impulsively. “She is well rid of him, poor girl. I hope she will get over it quickly.”

“If a brother’s love will help her to forget him, he will not be remembered long,” said Mr. Ray, nobly.

Marion gave him a glance that set his blood to tingling. He was radiantly happy to see how well she understood him.

The girls all wept as they said good-by, and even the young man’s eyes looked suspiciously moist as he took leave of the two sisters.

Miss Ray slipped something into Dollie’s hand at the last. Dollie tried to remonstrate, but was checked emphatically.

“A reminder of my gratitude to your sister,” Miss Ray whispered; “but for her I would still be living a life of disgrace and torture. She saved me. I can never forget it!”

“Good-by, Miss Marlowe; Marion!” whispered Mr. Ray very gently. “You shall hear from us after, and some day I shall be back, then——”

He pressed her hand in both his own, while Marion’s eyes fell beneath the glance that was so ardent and so tender.

“Good-by, Marion. God bless you,” whispered Miss Ray, taking Marion in her arms.

“Good-by, dear brave girl, and may the angels guard you. They ought to, my dear, for you are one of their number.”