The man’s dark eyes seemed reading her soul. His penetrating glance annoyed and irritated her.
What could it mean? She tried to think calmly. No man whom she had met had ever affected her so strangely.
“I hope I am somewhat different from these townsmen of yours,” went on the man smilingly, “no better perhaps, but a little less boorish. It is a shame that such beauty as this should be wasted upon them! Forgive me for what seems to be flattery, but I must speak honestly. You are both too beautiful to be buried here! You should live in the city, my dear young ladies!”
Marion bit her lips to control her resentment, but before she could reply her mother entered the kitchen and began preparations for their homely supper.
CHAPTER III.
MARION PROVES HER INTUITIONS.
The weeks passed swiftly at the Marlowe farmhouse, for Mr. Lawson’s presence there had broken the monotony. Not once during his stay had Marion been able to shake off her first impressions.
She dreaded him instinctively, and was ill at ease in his presence.
There was a mystery about him which she could not fathom—but her intuitions were keen, and she decided to trust them.
Marion was too amiable to ordinarily allow her feelings to be seen. Not even to Dollie had she made full confession of them.