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"Sometime she is going to find out all this deceit!" he added. "I know," said Jane. "I know. And then she'll quit trusting me forever. But if I'm willing to stand it, nobody else need to worry." With this tacit rebuke she left him, and thereafter the doctor respected her wishes. A month or so after Lola's departure northward, Jane's solicitude was enlivened by an event of startling importance.
About a month passed uneventfully, save that I spent many delightful hours in Lola's company. Her father had purchased another two-seater car a "sports model" Vauxhall and on several occasions I took him for runs in it about Yorkshire. Naturally he knew little about cars himself, but relied upon my knowledge and judgment.
I more than expected to find the dwarf on the quay, but to my relief he was not there. I had purposely kept my knowledge of Lola's movements a secret from him, as I desired as far as possible to conduct affairs without his crazy intervention. I was not sorry, too, that he had not availed himself of my proposal to visit me that morning and continue our conversation of the night before.
What was wrong with it, anyway? As I could not show him the Commination Service, I picked imaginary flaws in the universe. I complained of its amateurishness of design. But Dale, who loves fact, was not drawn into a theological disputation. "Do you know, I had a deuce of a shock when I came into Lola's this afternoon?" he cried irrelevantly, with a loud laugh.
Because her old surgeon friend, Sir Joshua Oldfield, now and then took her out to dinner, I considered she was leading a cheerful if not a merry life. I smiled indulgently at Lola's devotion to the cats and congratulated her on having found another means whereby to beguile the tedium vitae which is the arch-enemy of content. "I wish I could find such a means myself," said I.
Lola's father could easily repair Jane's shortcoming, but not without having an explanation of the facts of the case. The facts of the case he must never know. Even in her pain and indignation, Lola never made a question of this. "Suppose it is true!" thought the girl, suddenly overcome by a new tide of feeling. "What am I blaming her for?
At last her picture appeared in one of the weeklies. She had not known of it, and it took her breath. "Miss Carrie Madenda," it was labelled. "One of the favourites of 'The Wives of Abdul' company." At Lola's advice she had had some pictures taken by Sarony. They had got one there.
My black tulle dress has become brown and gray in its efforts to keep up to the mark; and as for Laura's white lace, it has become gray and brown, so you see we must go home. We went to Lola's card-party. There was the bereaved brother, looking very chirpy, and the Dean, and the Abbe. They kindly proposed to teach me their favorite game of tresillo. They took a lively interest in my ignorance.
We had sat down when, chancing to glance around, I saw, to my surprise, seated in a corner alone, the handsome Madame Martoz, who had had that confidential interview with Lola's father some days before. Our recognition was mutual, I saw, for she lowered her dark eyes and busied herself with the teapot before her.
His silence and absence were not spurs to affection, although she dwelt gratefully upon the fact that he should lavish so much upon her. Jane's money was lessening, but none of Lola's wishes had as yet been baffled.
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