CHAPTER IXTHE DIAMOND NECKLACE“Willthey be much longer?” asked John, stepping into the room with a tray of glasses in one hand and a silver cocktail shaker in the other.“I am sure I don’t know,” replied Lola, turning from where she still stood by the window, and moving slowly across the room to him. “I am going to try your cocktail, John.”“You? Why, you never drank one in your life.”“What of it? I am curious.” She took one of the empty glasses from the tray and held it out to him coaxingly.“Your father won’t like it,” he warned her.“He won’t know it.”“Now, Lola!”“Don’t be an old woman, John! Come!”He rather reluctantly poured her out a very small drink, as he was far from sure whether or not theDoctor would approve. Lola, up to now, had always shown the most complete distaste for any sort of liquor, a distaste which she really felt; which any healthy young person would feel were it not for the vague general impression that somewhere in the drops of liquor is hidden some hint of romance, some glimpse of mysterious knowledge; the desire of the unknown.“How very generous,” remarked Lola, looking at the few amber drops in the bottom of her glass.“Quite enough to begin with,” replied John, and he watched her curiously as she put the glass to her lips, and laughed heartily as he saw her gasp and the tears come to her eyes.“Well?” he questioned.“I don’t like it.”“Of course you don’t.”“Do you? Does anyone?”“I think not, Lola. Not at first, anyway. It is the physical excitement, the stimulation.”“I think I understand,” she spoke dreamily, thoughtfully, for she had often wondered lately why so many people seemed to care so much for a thing that had never meant anything at all to her, so little that up tothat very moment she had not even been curious. “To change, if only for a moment the deadly monotony of things. To have another emotion, a new sensation. You will have to make me cocktails when we are married, John.”“Well, I——”“You must! I want to learn everything. I am tired of being just a girl. Isn’t there anything else in life but to sit here with you and father, and his friends? Are our hearts always going to beat on, one-two, one-two, like the ticking of a clock? You say you love me, but you are as cold as ice!”She drew close and looked up at him queerly. Her eyes now were not the eyes he knew so well, calm and grave, or smiling; they were deeper, he thought; deeper, more beautiful, but—they seemed to fascinate him; he felt himself grow dizzy; the blood leaped in his veins and pounded in his heart. He put his arms about her and drew her close—close. She smiled now, with a smile he had never seen on her face before. It made her look older, wiser. How beautiful she was. She was a woman, no longer a girl, and all her beauty was his. His!“You say you love me,” she whispered quickly, with a note in her voice new to him, but strangely thrilling. “If you want to keep my love you must make me mad for you. Are you made of flesh and blood? Come! Kiss me!”He kissed her. Kissed her with a depth of passion such as he had never dreamed of, and for a moment she returned his kiss, then relaxed and lay half fainting in his arms, then releasing herself with a low laugh she stepped away from him.“There! That’s different. I do love you, John, more than I thought I did.”“Lola!” He tried to take her in his arms again, but she laughingly avoided him, going around the table, her eyes still challenging him to follow.“You are a silly boy, John, but I like you very much to-night.” She bent over the table, tauntingly, alluring. “You are not quite as cold as you look, John. Wouldn’t it be funny if I had to be afraid of you?”He followed her; she laughed again, and started to run to the door, and as she did so a small, flat leather box fell out of the fancy shopping bag she still heldin her hand, and which had come unfastened, as she had drawn herself away from him.As John stopped and stooped to pick the little box up, her whole manner changed so suddenly that he was startled. The love, the mischief, and the deeper feeling that had done so much to intoxicate him, was wiped out, and in its place there was a look of fear and anger, and as she spoke her voice was harsh and cold.“Give that to me.”“Why?” He hesitated, astounded.“Give it to me.”“Why not?” He handed it to her, and as she took it from him her face changed again, and she looked relieved and happy.“What is it, Lola? It looks like a jeweller’s box.”“Hush! We are not married yet, Mr. John Dorris. You must not pry into the mysteries of a lady’s toilet.”“Oh!” He laughed happily as she returned the little box to her bag, and made sure that it was fastened. “It is hardly fair for you to blame me for our not having married, Lola, is it? Come, dear; why should you keep putting me off? I have moneyenough to take care of you, and I’ll be making more right along now. Come, Lola! Can’t it be soon?”“That is quite enough of such nonsense,” she said airily, still keeping away from him. But he was serious now. He had been deeply stirred, and, like most men who, as a general thing, have their emotions well under control, it was difficult for him to so suddenly regain his composure. “I—I love you, Lola!”The real earnestness in his tone stopped her. It was as though something deep in her heart answered to the yearning in his voice, and she turned gently to him, a look on her face that he had not seen for weeks. The look of the gentle, timid girl who had learned to come to him for comfort and protection.“You must love me.” She was pleading now. “I need your love, John. You must keep on loving me, with all your heart.”“I love you, Lola, with all my soul.”There was terror in her face now, an instinctive terror that she understood as little as he did.“Don’t! You frighten me!” She trembled, pale and distressed. “I—I don’t know why, but I am afraid.”“Lola, what is it?”She did not answer, but stood there, a queer, thoughtful, puzzled expression on her face; and before he could ask her any more questions they heard Mrs. Mooney and Nellie as they passed down the hall, and a moment after Dr. Crossett and Dr. Barnhelm entered, smiling happily.“She is going to be all right, that little Nellie,” announced Dr. Crossett gleefully as a boy might have done. “Ah! Sometimes it is a very fine thing to be alive!”“Doctor,” said Maria, standing in the open door, “Jane says she’d like to have a chance to wash up before breakfast.”“Come!” The Doctor, who had quite forgotten dinner in his joy over his friend’s confidence in Nellie’s recovery, looked at Maria remorsefully.“All right, Maria, we are quite ready.”“We will need more ice in these cocktails,” said John. “Will you help me, Maria?”They left the room together and Dr. Crossett went to Lola and offered her his arm.“My arm, Mademoiselle.”“Please don’t wait for me, Doctor. All I want is a little drop of coffee. I had tea with Mrs. Rupert. You run right along. I will be with you in a few moments.”“I would wait,” he returned politely, “but, oh, I am so hungry!”“You poor man. Run!”“I run!” And he left the room, half dragging Dr. Barnhelm with him.Lola stood for a moment, until she heard the scraping of the chairs as they seated themselves about the table in the next room, then, with a quick, furtive look over her shoulder, she took the small flat box from her bag and, opening it, held up under the brilliant electric lights a flashing, sparkling chain of gorgeous diamonds. No one saw her, as she stood there, playing lovingly with them, dropping them over her dress, holding them about her throat, her eyes blazing with joy and excitement. Had there been anyone to see, the thought would have come to him that in her face there was a passion of greed scarcely human, and when, for a moment, she thought she heard a step approaching, a look came to her as she hid the jewels in her breast like the look that comes to a wild beastof the jungle, when it is threatened with being robbed of its prey.After a moment, standing there, tense and watchful, she drew them out again, and held them up, her face all smiles and happiness, her eyes flashing back the brilliancy of the jewels. At last she tired of them and dropped them carelessly on the table, and stood there thinking of where she could conceal them. It would be nice to have them always with her, to feel them about her neck, but she was afraid. The possession of a fortune in diamonds would be a difficult matter to explain. She thought of the wall safe, and at once decided to put them there, so she went to it quickly and worked the combination. As she opened the safe the first thing she saw was the large roll of bills, left there by her father. She held them in her hand for a moment. Dr. Crossett had given her father more money. She was very glad of that. It was so tiresome to be always hearing him complain of poverty. She threw the bills back carelessly, and, taking out a small jewel box of black japaned wood, unlocked it with a tiny key from her bag and, putting her necklace back in its case, locked the box and the safe, turningaway quickly as she heard the bell ring and Maria go to the door.A moment later, as Maria returned down the hall with a card in her hand, Lola met her.“What is it, Maria?”“A lady to see your father.”“A patient?”“She didn’t say.”“Let me see that card.” Maria gave it to her, and, after glancing at it, she said quietly, “Show her in here, Maria.”“She asked especially to see your father.”“Do as I tell you, Maria.”“Yes, Miss.”Maria went obediently to the hall, returning a moment later, followed by a dark, middle-aged woman, showily dressed, and evidently in a very bad temper. The woman bowed coldly, but Lola made no pretence of returning her bow.“You need not wait, Maria.”Maria left the room, and Lola stepped to the door of the dining-room, and looked in, smiling at the three men who so eagerly rose to greet her.“Don’t get up, please. I am not coming just yet, only please don’t drink all the coffee.”She closed the door, and, turning suddenly on the woman, who stood in the center of the room, she demanded angrily:“How dare you come here?”“I came to see your father,” responded Madam Zelya curtly, a trace of foreign accent in her speech, and more than a trace of stubborn anger in her manner.“I told you, over the telephone, that I would call, or send a check, in a day or two.”“I cannot wait a day or two! The bill is long past due. My landlord, he vill not vait a day or two. My girls they vill not vait a day or two for their wages. Ze money it must be paid to-night.”“My dear Madam Zelya! Won’t you be seated?”“No! I prefer to stand. I vait here until I ged my money. Ef I stand perhaps I’d nod vait so long.”“Now, Madam, as a favor to me——”“I trust you too much,” broke in Madam angrily. “Meeses Harlan bring you to me. I gif you credit, you do not pay. Meeses Harlan she half told me that yourfadder he ‘es a great doctor. Well, ve shall see if he vill pay.”“I want you to go,” Lola spoke imperiously. “Go! At once!”“Six hundred and sefenty-fife dollars ef you please.”“Wait!” The thought had suddenly flashed into Lola’s mind. There was money there in the safe, a large sum. She had seen several hundred-dollar bills. This woman would not go without money. Unless she went at once, before dinner was over, John and her father would learn about the bill for six hundred and seventy-five dollars. They would not understand; they would make a fuss. Surely anything is better than a fuss.She did not hesitate once she had made up her mind, but stepped to the safe and turned the combination, opened the door and, taking out the roll of bills, calmly counted out the necessary sum.“You have a receipted bill?”“Yes, yes, Miss Barnhelm.”The woman was all smiles now, bowing respectfully and humbly.“Take it.” Lola held the money out with one hand, as she took the receipted bill with the other.“Thank you, Miss Barnhelm. I hope I haf nod offended you. I am a poor woman, and I haf many expenses.”“I have paid you—now, go.”“I haf some beautiful new goods, just from Paris. If you will call——”“In future,” said Lola coldly, “I shall make my purchases from better established places of business. I am not used to being annoyed. Maria!” She stepped to the door and called.“Ef you would led me try once more I would not trouble you about the bill, Miss Barnhelm. Et es nod from these people who haf money that we want it, it es only from dose that haffen’t it.”This piece of worldly philosophy, however, made no impression upon Lola, who smiled calmly and haughtily, enjoying the poor woman’s servile repentance, until Maria came in answer to her call.“The door, Maria.” And Madam Zelya, unable to find any trace of softening in Lola’s face, was forced to follow Maria, her mind divided between grief overthe loss of a good customer, and joy over the collection of a bill, that the instinct of her Hungarian Jew ancestors had warned her was to be classed as doubtful.As they left the room, Lola stepped to the safe, meaning to replace the rest of the money, but as she saw it in her hand, and thought of other little accounts that pressed for settlement, she hesitated. “I don’t see what difference it makes,” she thought. “Dr. Crossett can easily give father more, and they would probably make just as great a row over the loss of the six hundred and seventy-five, as they will now about the whole amount.”So she put it in her bag, locked the safe and stepped into the dining-room, just as coffee was brought on. She had grown very fond of coffee of late, strong and black, with no cream or sugar. It seemed to tone her up. She was perfectly well, but she had grown to depend upon the pleasant exhilaration. She drank two cups with them. Dr. Crossett thought as he watched her that never in all his experience had he seen a young woman in such splendid physical condition. Her father smiled on her proudly, as she met and routed the Doctor’s affectionate teasing, and as for John, hewas already so completely in love that he was quite satisfied just to sit and watch her. She had changed greatly of late, there could be no doubt of that. The girl was gone, but in her place was this brilliant, fascinating woman. John thought himself a very lucky man.
“Willthey be much longer?” asked John, stepping into the room with a tray of glasses in one hand and a silver cocktail shaker in the other.
“I am sure I don’t know,” replied Lola, turning from where she still stood by the window, and moving slowly across the room to him. “I am going to try your cocktail, John.”
“You? Why, you never drank one in your life.”
“What of it? I am curious.” She took one of the empty glasses from the tray and held it out to him coaxingly.
“Your father won’t like it,” he warned her.
“He won’t know it.”
“Now, Lola!”
“Don’t be an old woman, John! Come!”
He rather reluctantly poured her out a very small drink, as he was far from sure whether or not theDoctor would approve. Lola, up to now, had always shown the most complete distaste for any sort of liquor, a distaste which she really felt; which any healthy young person would feel were it not for the vague general impression that somewhere in the drops of liquor is hidden some hint of romance, some glimpse of mysterious knowledge; the desire of the unknown.
“How very generous,” remarked Lola, looking at the few amber drops in the bottom of her glass.
“Quite enough to begin with,” replied John, and he watched her curiously as she put the glass to her lips, and laughed heartily as he saw her gasp and the tears come to her eyes.
“Well?” he questioned.
“I don’t like it.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Do you? Does anyone?”
“I think not, Lola. Not at first, anyway. It is the physical excitement, the stimulation.”
“I think I understand,” she spoke dreamily, thoughtfully, for she had often wondered lately why so many people seemed to care so much for a thing that had never meant anything at all to her, so little that up tothat very moment she had not even been curious. “To change, if only for a moment the deadly monotony of things. To have another emotion, a new sensation. You will have to make me cocktails when we are married, John.”
“Well, I——”
“You must! I want to learn everything. I am tired of being just a girl. Isn’t there anything else in life but to sit here with you and father, and his friends? Are our hearts always going to beat on, one-two, one-two, like the ticking of a clock? You say you love me, but you are as cold as ice!”
She drew close and looked up at him queerly. Her eyes now were not the eyes he knew so well, calm and grave, or smiling; they were deeper, he thought; deeper, more beautiful, but—they seemed to fascinate him; he felt himself grow dizzy; the blood leaped in his veins and pounded in his heart. He put his arms about her and drew her close—close. She smiled now, with a smile he had never seen on her face before. It made her look older, wiser. How beautiful she was. She was a woman, no longer a girl, and all her beauty was his. His!
“You say you love me,” she whispered quickly, with a note in her voice new to him, but strangely thrilling. “If you want to keep my love you must make me mad for you. Are you made of flesh and blood? Come! Kiss me!”
He kissed her. Kissed her with a depth of passion such as he had never dreamed of, and for a moment she returned his kiss, then relaxed and lay half fainting in his arms, then releasing herself with a low laugh she stepped away from him.
“There! That’s different. I do love you, John, more than I thought I did.”
“Lola!” He tried to take her in his arms again, but she laughingly avoided him, going around the table, her eyes still challenging him to follow.
“You are a silly boy, John, but I like you very much to-night.” She bent over the table, tauntingly, alluring. “You are not quite as cold as you look, John. Wouldn’t it be funny if I had to be afraid of you?”
He followed her; she laughed again, and started to run to the door, and as she did so a small, flat leather box fell out of the fancy shopping bag she still heldin her hand, and which had come unfastened, as she had drawn herself away from him.
As John stopped and stooped to pick the little box up, her whole manner changed so suddenly that he was startled. The love, the mischief, and the deeper feeling that had done so much to intoxicate him, was wiped out, and in its place there was a look of fear and anger, and as she spoke her voice was harsh and cold.
“Give that to me.”
“Why?” He hesitated, astounded.
“Give it to me.”
“Why not?” He handed it to her, and as she took it from him her face changed again, and she looked relieved and happy.
“What is it, Lola? It looks like a jeweller’s box.”
“Hush! We are not married yet, Mr. John Dorris. You must not pry into the mysteries of a lady’s toilet.”
“Oh!” He laughed happily as she returned the little box to her bag, and made sure that it was fastened. “It is hardly fair for you to blame me for our not having married, Lola, is it? Come, dear; why should you keep putting me off? I have moneyenough to take care of you, and I’ll be making more right along now. Come, Lola! Can’t it be soon?”
“That is quite enough of such nonsense,” she said airily, still keeping away from him. But he was serious now. He had been deeply stirred, and, like most men who, as a general thing, have their emotions well under control, it was difficult for him to so suddenly regain his composure. “I—I love you, Lola!”
The real earnestness in his tone stopped her. It was as though something deep in her heart answered to the yearning in his voice, and she turned gently to him, a look on her face that he had not seen for weeks. The look of the gentle, timid girl who had learned to come to him for comfort and protection.
“You must love me.” She was pleading now. “I need your love, John. You must keep on loving me, with all your heart.”
“I love you, Lola, with all my soul.”
There was terror in her face now, an instinctive terror that she understood as little as he did.
“Don’t! You frighten me!” She trembled, pale and distressed. “I—I don’t know why, but I am afraid.”
“Lola, what is it?”
She did not answer, but stood there, a queer, thoughtful, puzzled expression on her face; and before he could ask her any more questions they heard Mrs. Mooney and Nellie as they passed down the hall, and a moment after Dr. Crossett and Dr. Barnhelm entered, smiling happily.
“She is going to be all right, that little Nellie,” announced Dr. Crossett gleefully as a boy might have done. “Ah! Sometimes it is a very fine thing to be alive!”
“Doctor,” said Maria, standing in the open door, “Jane says she’d like to have a chance to wash up before breakfast.”
“Come!” The Doctor, who had quite forgotten dinner in his joy over his friend’s confidence in Nellie’s recovery, looked at Maria remorsefully.
“All right, Maria, we are quite ready.”
“We will need more ice in these cocktails,” said John. “Will you help me, Maria?”
They left the room together and Dr. Crossett went to Lola and offered her his arm.
“My arm, Mademoiselle.”
“Please don’t wait for me, Doctor. All I want is a little drop of coffee. I had tea with Mrs. Rupert. You run right along. I will be with you in a few moments.”
“I would wait,” he returned politely, “but, oh, I am so hungry!”
“You poor man. Run!”
“I run!” And he left the room, half dragging Dr. Barnhelm with him.
Lola stood for a moment, until she heard the scraping of the chairs as they seated themselves about the table in the next room, then, with a quick, furtive look over her shoulder, she took the small flat box from her bag and, opening it, held up under the brilliant electric lights a flashing, sparkling chain of gorgeous diamonds. No one saw her, as she stood there, playing lovingly with them, dropping them over her dress, holding them about her throat, her eyes blazing with joy and excitement. Had there been anyone to see, the thought would have come to him that in her face there was a passion of greed scarcely human, and when, for a moment, she thought she heard a step approaching, a look came to her as she hid the jewels in her breast like the look that comes to a wild beastof the jungle, when it is threatened with being robbed of its prey.
After a moment, standing there, tense and watchful, she drew them out again, and held them up, her face all smiles and happiness, her eyes flashing back the brilliancy of the jewels. At last she tired of them and dropped them carelessly on the table, and stood there thinking of where she could conceal them. It would be nice to have them always with her, to feel them about her neck, but she was afraid. The possession of a fortune in diamonds would be a difficult matter to explain. She thought of the wall safe, and at once decided to put them there, so she went to it quickly and worked the combination. As she opened the safe the first thing she saw was the large roll of bills, left there by her father. She held them in her hand for a moment. Dr. Crossett had given her father more money. She was very glad of that. It was so tiresome to be always hearing him complain of poverty. She threw the bills back carelessly, and, taking out a small jewel box of black japaned wood, unlocked it with a tiny key from her bag and, putting her necklace back in its case, locked the box and the safe, turningaway quickly as she heard the bell ring and Maria go to the door.
A moment later, as Maria returned down the hall with a card in her hand, Lola met her.
“What is it, Maria?”
“A lady to see your father.”
“A patient?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Let me see that card.” Maria gave it to her, and, after glancing at it, she said quietly, “Show her in here, Maria.”
“She asked especially to see your father.”
“Do as I tell you, Maria.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Maria went obediently to the hall, returning a moment later, followed by a dark, middle-aged woman, showily dressed, and evidently in a very bad temper. The woman bowed coldly, but Lola made no pretence of returning her bow.
“You need not wait, Maria.”
Maria left the room, and Lola stepped to the door of the dining-room, and looked in, smiling at the three men who so eagerly rose to greet her.
“Don’t get up, please. I am not coming just yet, only please don’t drink all the coffee.”
She closed the door, and, turning suddenly on the woman, who stood in the center of the room, she demanded angrily:
“How dare you come here?”
“I came to see your father,” responded Madam Zelya curtly, a trace of foreign accent in her speech, and more than a trace of stubborn anger in her manner.
“I told you, over the telephone, that I would call, or send a check, in a day or two.”
“I cannot wait a day or two! The bill is long past due. My landlord, he vill not vait a day or two. My girls they vill not vait a day or two for their wages. Ze money it must be paid to-night.”
“My dear Madam Zelya! Won’t you be seated?”
“No! I prefer to stand. I vait here until I ged my money. Ef I stand perhaps I’d nod vait so long.”
“Now, Madam, as a favor to me——”
“I trust you too much,” broke in Madam angrily. “Meeses Harlan bring you to me. I gif you credit, you do not pay. Meeses Harlan she half told me that yourfadder he ‘es a great doctor. Well, ve shall see if he vill pay.”
“I want you to go,” Lola spoke imperiously. “Go! At once!”
“Six hundred and sefenty-fife dollars ef you please.”
“Wait!” The thought had suddenly flashed into Lola’s mind. There was money there in the safe, a large sum. She had seen several hundred-dollar bills. This woman would not go without money. Unless she went at once, before dinner was over, John and her father would learn about the bill for six hundred and seventy-five dollars. They would not understand; they would make a fuss. Surely anything is better than a fuss.
She did not hesitate once she had made up her mind, but stepped to the safe and turned the combination, opened the door and, taking out the roll of bills, calmly counted out the necessary sum.
“You have a receipted bill?”
“Yes, yes, Miss Barnhelm.”
The woman was all smiles now, bowing respectfully and humbly.
“Take it.” Lola held the money out with one hand, as she took the receipted bill with the other.
“Thank you, Miss Barnhelm. I hope I haf nod offended you. I am a poor woman, and I haf many expenses.”
“I have paid you—now, go.”
“I haf some beautiful new goods, just from Paris. If you will call——”
“In future,” said Lola coldly, “I shall make my purchases from better established places of business. I am not used to being annoyed. Maria!” She stepped to the door and called.
“Ef you would led me try once more I would not trouble you about the bill, Miss Barnhelm. Et es nod from these people who haf money that we want it, it es only from dose that haffen’t it.”
This piece of worldly philosophy, however, made no impression upon Lola, who smiled calmly and haughtily, enjoying the poor woman’s servile repentance, until Maria came in answer to her call.
“The door, Maria.” And Madam Zelya, unable to find any trace of softening in Lola’s face, was forced to follow Maria, her mind divided between grief overthe loss of a good customer, and joy over the collection of a bill, that the instinct of her Hungarian Jew ancestors had warned her was to be classed as doubtful.
As they left the room, Lola stepped to the safe, meaning to replace the rest of the money, but as she saw it in her hand, and thought of other little accounts that pressed for settlement, she hesitated. “I don’t see what difference it makes,” she thought. “Dr. Crossett can easily give father more, and they would probably make just as great a row over the loss of the six hundred and seventy-five, as they will now about the whole amount.”
So she put it in her bag, locked the safe and stepped into the dining-room, just as coffee was brought on. She had grown very fond of coffee of late, strong and black, with no cream or sugar. It seemed to tone her up. She was perfectly well, but she had grown to depend upon the pleasant exhilaration. She drank two cups with them. Dr. Crossett thought as he watched her that never in all his experience had he seen a young woman in such splendid physical condition. Her father smiled on her proudly, as she met and routed the Doctor’s affectionate teasing, and as for John, hewas already so completely in love that he was quite satisfied just to sit and watch her. She had changed greatly of late, there could be no doubt of that. The girl was gone, but in her place was this brilliant, fascinating woman. John thought himself a very lucky man.