Lola Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  BROUGHT TO LIFE

  On the following day the papers devoted a few lines to the accidentalinjury of a young girl, "Lola Barnhelm, daughter of Dr. MartinBarnhelm, a physician in good standing in the neighborhood." The factthat "the automobile by which the young lady was injured belonged toRichard Fenway, the well-known Wall Street broker, son of old DickFenway of Cleveland, and a well-known figure in the life of the'Broadway crowd,'" seemed to be of more general interest than theaccount of her injury, but two of the papers noted the fact that "shewas at first pronounced dead and later found to be merely sufferingfrom shock."

  What Dr. Barnhelm and Dr. Crossett said to one another no one besidesthemselves ever knew. To John, after the moment when Dr. Crossett wentto him, white-faced, and awed, and told him that Lola was alive, theysaid nothing.

  John was content. He loved her, and she had come back to him! Had shefor those few moments been really dead, or had the young ambulancesurgeon been mistaken? What did it matter? Late that night they hadallowed him to creep softly to her chamber door, and looking in he hadseen her sleeping quietly, and they assured him that, aside from aprobable nervous shock, she was quite unharmed.

  In the days that followed the nervous shock turned out to be moreserious than was at first supposed. Physically, Lola seemed to be ingood condition, but for the first time in her life she was unjust,irritable, and jealous. Dr. Crossett claimed this to be a fine symptomof returning health.

  "Temper," he remarked cheerfully, "is the copyright trade-mark of theconvalescent," but to John her sudden, unreasonable fits of anger anda feeling that in anyone but Lola he would have described asselfishness amazed and alarmed him.

  Dr. Barnhelm, too, seemed changed, but in his case the change was forthe better. He was closeted all day, and often almost all night withhis machine, and its low throbbing penetrated the whole building andbrought indignant protests from the other tenants, protests that werereceived by the Doctor with a slow smile of contempt and at onceforgotten.

  From the moment when he was assured of his daughter's safety, heburied himself in his work, calm and happy, with little thought foranything but this great discovery of his--this wonderful inventionthat was to do so much for suffering humanity.

  Dr. Crossett left them after the first few days to keep some importantengagement in the West, but before he left he had insisted uponadvancing Dr. Barnhelm a sum of money sufficient for his needs, enoughto allow him freedom to complete his experiments and prepare theelaborate models necessary for a demonstration before the MedicalSociety.

  At first Dr. Barnhelm had refused to accept the favor, but Lola,greatly to his surprise, had sided against him, and more to please herthan for any other reason he had taken the money on the understandingthat it was to be repaid out of the first profits of his invention. Atthe time there seemed little reason to doubt his ability to repay hisfriend. Fame and success mean much to a physician's income, and afterthe proof he had so lately had how could he consider anything butsuccess possible? He gave up his practice, excepting only a few of hisold charity patients, and turning the borrowed money over to Lola, whohad for a long time been in the habit of controlling the family purse,he buried himself in his work.

  For over two months Dr. Crossett travelled, first to Chicago, then toDenver, and from there to San Francisco. Everywhere he was receivedwith the honors due to a man of his high standing in the medicalworld, and allowed full opportunity to compare the treatment ofnervous disorders with the methods of the best physicians of his owncountry. He had come as the representative of the French society, ofwhich he was president, and it was his object to gather enoughinformation to aid him in the writing of a book upon this subject. Heheard once from Dr. Barnhelm, notifying him of a change in theiraddress from upper Eighth Avenue to an apartment on Riverside Drive.No explanation for the change was offered, the rest of the letterbeing a long account of the progress of his work and a few words aboutLola, that she had quite recovered her health and seemed to be inunusually high spirits.

  For some weeks after this he had been travelling almost constantly,but on his return to Chicago he found a short note waiting for him athis hotel. In this note Dr. Barnhelm simply stated that he was introuble and anxious to see him. That it was nothing that need causehim to cut short his stay in the West, but that the matter was adelicate one, and that he was anxious to see him immediately upon hisreturn.

  Dr. Crossett was rather alarmed by the whole tone of his old friend'sletter. Of Lola there was no mention, but he could not free himself ofa vague suspicion that she must be the cause of her father's evidentlydeeply troubled mind, and he brought his business affairs to an abruptend and caught the next fast train to New York.

  It had been Spring when Dr. Crossett landed in America; it was nowSummer, and, as his taxi ran smoothly up Fifth Avenue to the Park, theboarded-up fronts of the houses suggested to him a plan for forcing abrief extension of his vacation and spending a week or two with Lolaand her father at some of the famous American watering-places of whichhe had often heard. His own splendid health and superb vitality heowed, in part, to his habit of allowing himself frequent intervals ofmental rest and outdoor exercise, and as he thought of how Lola wouldbe benefited by a change from the hot, stale air of the city to somebeautiful seashore or mountain resort, he smiled to himself happily.

  The cab stopped, and as he got out and turned to pay the driver henoticed with surprised approval the unbroken row of stately apartmenthouses facing the green of Riverside Park and the wide expanse of theHudson. His old friend was growing wise he thought to himself; here atleast were grass, and trees, and fresh air.

  Maria admitted him, and showing him through a wide foyer-hall into apretty and well-furnished parlor, turned to leave him, but he calledher back anxiously.

  "Miss Lola! Tell me, Maria?"

  There was just a trace of hesitation as she answered.

  "Very well, I think, sir. I never saw her looking better in my life."

  "Good! Good! Ah! The times, they have changed," and he looked aroundthe daintily furnished apartment smilingly. "It is not as it was twomonths ago."

  "No, sir."

  "You also," as he noticed her neat black dress and white cap andapron; "you are a very pretty girl, Maria."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Do not thank me," he replied with a chuckle. "I share in the pleasureit causes you. Now, Maria, don't blush. I am old enough to be yourfather, and I like you because you are good to those two who are sodear to me. I am happy to see all these signs of prosperity. TheDoctor's practice must have increased?"

  "I don't think so, sir," said Maria. "No patients ever come here,leastways none but the poor ones who don't pay nothin'."

  "So? And yet he has not given the news of his discovery to the world.I do not comprehend."

  Maria hesitated for a moment, then faced him anxiously as though tosay something, but after a moment's pause she recovered herself andsaid respectfully:

  "The Doctor is out, sir. Miss Lola is dressing. She will be here in amoment."

  "I am in no hurry," he replied, "now that you tell me that all is wellhere. I am content to share in the happiness of my friend. Hisdaughter well; a fine home; one could not hope for this two monthsago! Poverty, death! Pish!" and he snapped his fingers contemptuously."They are gone! It is indeed the age of miracles."

  "Coming back like she did, sir," retorted Maria, "after everyonethought she was dead, ain't a thing that does a body any good! Youcouldn't expect her to be quite so happy and so sweet as she used tobe, could you, Doctor?"

  In the girl's voice was so much of anxious inquiry, such a tone ofreal sadness and regret, that he turned to her alarmed, but at thatmoment Lola came into the room. In the few seconds it took her tocross to him, smiling, both hands extended in greeting, his practicedeye assured him that never in all his experience had he seen a youngwoman in such superb physical health. She was radiant! The simplelittle housedress in which he had first seen her had been e
xchangedfor an elaborate afternoon costume. Her skin was clear, he hadremembered her as being pale, even in the short time he had seen herbefore the accident; but now she had a high color and an eager,animated manner that spoke of an abundant reserve of vitality.

  "There you are, Doctor," she cried gaily, as he returned the warmpressure of her hands. "I wonder if you know how glad I am to seeyou?"

  "No, my dear," he answered, "not unless you are reflecting my ownpleasure in seeing you like this. I was worrying about you, way offthere in the West. Were you well? Were you happy? Now I have but tolook at you."

  "You are a flatterer, Doctor."

  As Lola turned from him smiling, her eyes fell on Maria, who stoodwatching the Doctor's face with a curious look of eager curiosity, herlook changed, and she spoke sharply, almost cruelly.

  "What are you doing here, Maria?"

  Maria flushed and tears came to her eyes as she stammered, "I--I----"

  "You may go."

  "Yes, Miss."

  Maria left the room and Lola turned to find Dr. Crossett looking ather in wonder. He knew of the real affection that there had beenbetween these two, and his own tender heart told him how Lola's tonemust have hurt the girl who had so much reason to think of her withaffection and gratitude. He made no effort to keep a look of reproofout of his eyes, but if Lola saw it there she gave no sign of it, butseated herself on a broad couch and motioned to him airily to seathimself beside her.

  "Now, Dr. Crossett," she began, "I want to talk with you before yousee father. He is the dearest man in the world, but he knows nothingat all about business. He wrote to you?"

  "Yes, that is why I am here."

  "It is about money; he is very poor."

  "Poor?" Dr. Crossett glanced about the expensively furnished room insurprise, but Lola continued without seeming to notice. "He did notwant to write, but I made him. You are his friend. You love him. I amsure that you will be glad to help him."

  "What I have is his," answered Dr. Crossett. "Surely there is no needto repeat that. If he wanted more, why did he not ask for it when Igave him my check before I left New York?"

  "Oh, that money he borrowed from you he was going to use for hisexperiments; to perfect his machines, and to prepare to demonstratethem, but naturally I could not allow him to do that. If he's to be afamous man he must, at least, live like a gentleman. I selected thisapartment, and insisted upon his moving, and now he is so worried, andnervous, and cross, just because he has no more money."

  "He is my friend," said the Doctor gravely. "I will gladly supply allhe needs, but----"

  "But----!" repeated Lola impatiently, and to him for a moment itsounded almost rudely. "Surely you are not going to say that I havebeen extravagant. Father has hinted it, so has John, and it wouldn'tbe fair for you to join them against me. You won't do that, will you?"

  LOLA SHOCKS HER FATHER AND HIS FRIEND BY HERHEARTLESSNESS.]

  As she looked up at him shyly, yet confidently, it seemed to him thatthe last twenty years had been a dream, and that he was sitting besidethat other young woman, so like her, and any trace of disappointmenthe had felt at her attitude fell away, and there was nothing buttenderness in his voice as he replied:

  "It was more years ago than I can count that your mother came to meand looked up as you are looking now, and begged me not to sideagainst her. She wanted to marry your father; and all were saying'no.' I could not refuse her anything any more than I could you,although it hurt me to help bring about that marriage, for I loved hermyself. So you see how helpless I am. I must fight your battles. Ihave no choice."

  "You're a dear," laughed Lola happily, "and if I had been mother--butthere--I must not make you vain. I was sure that I could depend uponyou. Now, let's not talk about serious things any more. Come! Let meshow you the view of the river from the windows. Isn't it glorioushere! Why, do you know, Doctor dear, that after Eighth Avenue this islike another world? Look!" She had dragged him to the window and withone hand on his shoulder, and her pretty, eager face flushed with analmost passionate enthusiasm, she stood pointing out to where theDrive curved majestically, flanked on one side by its statelybuildings, on the other by the always beautiful Hudson and the distantPalisades.

  "Look!" she repeated. "I was content once in that shabby, horrid flat.Perfectly content, and patient, and happy. Father said that I wascontent because I was good, but I know better; it was because I wasignorant; because the thing that was mine was the only thing I knew.He talks of going back! Threatens, because he is afraid, because henever spent money in his life, and is too old to learn now, to returnto that squalid, shabby, dirty hole. I want you to talk to him," andshe turned him so that he faced her, and as he felt the nervous graspon his arm he marvelled at her strength. "I want you to tell him whatI have already told him, that, if he goes back there, he will goalone. I am out of it now, and there isn't power enough in the worldto drag me back."

  "My dear," remonstrated the Doctor gravely, "you and John are to bemarried; he is young; surely while he is making his way in the worldyou will be willing to share whatever his fortune may be. Love is assweet in poverty, Lola, as it is in a home like this."

  "That is a platitude, Doctor, a platitude invented by cowards whoweren't strong enough to win the good things of life, and who, becausethey couldn't have them, were fools enough to try to blind themselveswith stupid words. I am a woman! A woman's only chance for all thebeautiful things of life rests upon some man. When a man comes to meand says, 'I want the only things you have, your youth, your love,your beauty,' haven't I the right to say, 'What will you give me forthem?'"

  The Doctor drew back, deeply shocked. Her words, the deep earnestnessof her voice, and the hard, selfish look in her eyes, surprised andhurt him. He was a sentimentalist and to him a woman's whole existenceshould be in her love, and in the home her lover could provide forher. Modern as he was in his practice of medicine, advanced as he wasin his psychological studies, at heart he was an old-fashioned man,with all of the old-fashioned man's ideas of love and marriage. For amoment he felt a feeling of repulsion, almost of horror, and he lookedcoldly at this young girl, who seemed to be so greatly changed by afew short weeks of luxury, but as he looked he thought of the day,only so lately passed, when she had been brought to them, white andlifeless, and as he saw her now, defiant, rebellious, in all the vigorof her splendid health, he smiled at her tenderly. He knew, as few menknow, the changes that some great nervous shock so often makes in aperson's character, and he resolved to devote himself to this girluntil her nervous system fully recovered, to help her with gentlekindness until her old tranquil serenity was fully restored. It cameinto his mind that of all the many cases of hysteria which he hadsuccessfully treated here was one that would challenge his greatestskill, and he was glad of the fortune that had sent him to her, forhis experienced eyes saw that she was to need his help, and in theconfidence of a man to whom failure seldom came he felt secure in hisability to restore her to her old gentle self. He sat down beside herand talked quietly of her father and of the fame and fortune that wasso sure to be his, and as he talked he watched her and saw just ayoung, happy, innocent girl, serene now, perfectly gentle, perfectlycalm, and they laughed and talked merrily together until her fatherentered the room.