Marion thanked them both and hurried away. Her heart was lighter for having done even a poor street dog a kindly service. Just as she reached her home a gentleman rushed up to her. It was young Ralph Moore, looking worried and anxious. “You are in awfully hard luck, aren’t you, Miss Marlowe?” he said, rapidly, “and poor Dollie is sick. Oh, you don’t know how I pity you.” “I don’t know what I’ll do,” said Marion, sadly. “I am on our last dollar, and the rent is due to-morrow.” Mr. Moore stood in silence for just a minute, then he turned to Marion again, his face flushing with emotion. “I will be back in an hour or two, at the most, Miss Marlowe,” he said, hastily. “Something has got to be done. I can’t see poor Dollie suffer.” “Oh, what do you mean?” began Marion. Mr. Moore cut her short with an impulsive explanation. “I mean that I must help Dollie in some way or other, for I love her, Miss Marlowe, please tell her that I love her.” CHAPTER XI. EMILE VORSE IS CAUGHT AT LAST. In less than two hours Ralph Moore came back and astonished Marion by handing her one hundred dollars. He was as pale as a corpse, but was unusually calm. There was not a tremor in his voice when he urged her to accept it. “Never mind where I got it,” he said, with a slight smile, “only promise me, Miss Marlowe, that you will say nothing about it. You see, my aunt and uncle might think I came by it dishonestly.” “Oh, I am sure they would not,” said Marion, a bit startled. “I am sure they would be the last to accuse you of dishonesty.” “Well, I don’t know,” said Mr. Moore with another strange smile: “I’ve been a bit wild, and ‘once give a dog a bad name’—you know the rest, Miss Marlowe.” “I would trust you anywhere,” said Marion, firmly. “Your heart is too good, you could never do wrong, I am certain.” “If I did it would be with a good motive,” said the young man again, “but I must go now, Miss Marlowe, and I would so like to see poor Dollie.” “You shall see her,” said Marion, “for she is sitting up to-night. I think she has been better since she got your message.” She smiled at him slyly, and the young man blushed like a girl. When he entered the room, and had greeted Dollie, Marion discreetly retired for a few minutes. “Dollie, dear Dollie, can you love me?” whispered Mr. Moore softly, as he went straight to the young girl who was bundled in wraps on the sofa. “I do love you,” murmured the girl with a rosy blush. “I think I loved you when I first saw you, and oh, I am so perfectly happy.” Mr. Moore put his arms around her and kissed her lips softly. “And you will stick to me, Dollie?” he urged, very tenderly. “You won’t go back on me, even though I am a little frisky?” “I’d hate to have you any other way,” admitted Dollie, frankly. “Yes, I will stand by you, Ralph, no matter what happens.”