CHAPTER V.
A CHINESE GIRL STEALER.
When Ralph Moore, Marion’s brother-in-law, opened the door he was astonished to find her trembling with terror.
“Why, sister, I thought you were not coming home to-night,” he began, but the girl stopped him with a quick explanation.
“Carlotta trapped me,” she said, hotly, “but I escaped from her safely! Now, who do you suppose that fellow was, the dreadful creature that just grabbed my arm right here on the steps. My shriek must have frightened you awfully, brother.”
Ralph Moore looked up and down the street, but there was no one in sight, so in another minute they went up to his apartment.
Dollie Marlowe, or Dollie Moore, as she was now, had been married only three weeks, but her little flat already had a homelike look, and both she and her husband were radiantly happy.
As Marion had said, Dollie’s face was the prettier of the two, but it was a babyish prettiness that meant weakness and uncertainty, while Marion’s was the glorious beauty of decision.
As Marion told them of her evening’s experience Dollie’s rosy cheeks paled, while Ralph Moore ran his fingers through his black curls in excitement.
“What a bad, wicked woman,” cried the little bride, indignantly. “To think of her subjecting you to such an insult. Why, she is a disgrace to her sex, isn’t she, darling?”