The stout, coarse figure of the landlady completely blocked the doorway.
“Good-evening, Mrs. Garvin,” said the young girl, politely, then as she observed the woman’s expression she stood still and stared at her.
“You are a nice pair, I must say!” began the boarding-house keeper angrily. “To think of the likes of you comin’ into my house! You’ve got nerve and to spare, Miss Marion Marlowe!”
She glanced at the sisters as she spoke, but as neither of them answered she went on with her vituperations.
“Did you think because you gave your names as Miller that the truth wouldn’t leak out? Well, that shows how much you know, you little ninnies! Why, I’d have caught on myself if I ever read the papers! The description of you would have given me the tip at once if I’d happened to see it!”
“If you had read the papers you would have seen that we were not to blame for our misfortunes,” said Marion, coldly; “but you cannot blame us for not wishing to be known. We are only simple country girls, we do not wish to be stared at as curiosities.”
“Oh, I guess you ain’t so simple as you look,” sneered the woman. “Girls that run away from home with city chaps ain’t so very simple, or innocent either.”
“Hush!” cried Marion, sternly, “not another word, madam! You are talking about something which you do not understand! This is my room, and I insist upon being treated with courtesy.”
Marion’s cheeks glowed like fire as she glared back at the woman. For Dollie’s sake she would as readily have confronted the very demon of evil himself.
“And this is my house, and I want you to leave it!” was the woman’s prompt answer. “I’ll not harbor such creatures another night, if I know it!”