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!”