“I think a little more knowledge of the evil in the world will drive me mad,” said Marion, sharply. “Oh, is there no end to it? I am beginning to be doubtful.” Mr. Ray looked at her fair face with one of his old, tender glances. “It is wrong that you should have learned even so much as one lesson of the evil,” he said, softly. “You should have been kept free from it all, my peerless Marion.” The beautiful girl’s face flushed scarlet to the roots of her hair, but Mr. Ray touched her hand gently, almost in a pleading manner. “Let me think of you thus—it can do no harm,” he said, softly. “Let me say to myself, she is my peerless Marion, even though a barrier exists between us which prevents my saying anything more.” Marion bowed her head and the tears sprang to her eyes. “You are too good to think so well of me,” she said, simply. “Oh, I wish you could know how deeply I sympathize with you. How sorry I am to know how you have suffered.” She let her hand rest in his as she looked at him. “And you will watch, Marion, for my erring wife,” he said, sadly; “you will forget what she has done in your friendship for me, for I should never forgive myself if she should be in want or die uncared for.” “I will watch,” said Marion, simply, and then the carriage stopped. Once more Marion was admitted to the little hospital dock, going back to her duties among the city’s unfortunate. As she reached the deck of the _Thomas Brennan_, some one stepped out of the pilot house to greet her. It was young Dr. Brookes, on his way to the Prison Hospital. CHAPTER IX. MARION WITNESSES A QUEER SIGHT. “Big Belle, the Confidence Queen,” was a very versatile woman. At liberty, she was noted for the variety of her accomplishments, and in prison walls she was equally useful both in her cell and in the workroom. But this strange woman’s greatest delight was in the care of the sick, and as she passed from cot to cot in the prison hospital both her hand and her voice were as gentle as a mother’s. She was a large, fine-looking woman, with brilliant black eyes, but the coarse prison garb did not enhance the beauty of either face or figure. Belle had “done time” at the “Isle de Blackwell” before, so she felt very much at home in her present occupation. There was not a rule or regulation about the prison that she did not know, and if she ever longed to break one of them there was no indication of it in her manner. Rather, it seemed to her associates that Belle was merely “biding her time,” and, according to all accounts, a goodly portion of her ill-gotten gains was steadily drawing interest in various banks in anticipation of her coming. As Big Belle bent over one of her charges whose face was covered with bandages, she moistened them as skillfully as any trained nurse could have done, and as the prison physician entered the ward she went over to him promptly, standing with calmly folded hands and eyes cast down, the very embodiment of meekness and servitude.