“She must be a queer woman,” she thought to herself. “She doesn’t need me at all. I wonder why she asked me to come.”
The more she thought it over the more it perplexed her.
“Now we’ll have a bite of supper and go to bed,” said Carlotta, with another laugh. “You’ll have a glass of wine, won’t you, dear, and a cigarette, to help digest your welsh rarebit?”
Her guest’s great eyes darkened as she stared at her for the space of a second.
“Oh, no, thanks,” she said, finally. “I neither drink nor smoke. You know, I am a country girl,” she added, laughing.
“Oh, well, if you won’t, you won’t,” was the woman’s answer, and just at that moment the outer door opened unceremoniously.
Marion looked up in astonishment. There were two well-dressed men, both glittering with diamonds, standing in the doorway, gazing at her admiringly.
CHAPTER IV.
MARION DEFENDS HERSELF FROM INSULT.
“Now, Mr. Clayton Graham, I’ll spoil your white dove for you a trifle, I fancy,” muttered Carlotta under her breath, as she half closed her eyes and looked scornfully at Marion.