“You won’t have any great trouble there, my boy. She has always been happy, and always will be if—if you will always love her.”
“I think I may safely promise that,” said John, smiling confidently. “It doesn’t seem to be difficult.”
“You are very happy, you two,” continued the Doctor, glancing from one to the other, “and will you believe an old man when he tells you that it is the only happiness that is real? A happiness so great that even if death comes, the memory is still the dearest feeling in your hearts. I have no sermon for you. God bless you, and help you, so long as you shall live.”
“We are having a little trouble already, Doctor, and I want your help,” said John boldly. “I want you to tell her that she must marry me at once.”
“John,” cried Lola, indignantly, “I haven’t any idea at all of being married for months!”
“Ah!” smiled the Doctor hopefully. “Perhaps, if you quarrel with him about it, we may get rid of him yet. That would be good news for me, yes, and for poor Dick Fenway!”
“Don’t tease,” protested Lola, “and, anyway, Mr. Fenway isn’t poor; he is a millionaire.”
“I suppose,” said John, “that it is rather an obvious thing for me to say, but I don’t like that man. It isn’t that I am jealous. I was once, I will admit, but after last night I am not afraid of him. But he isn’t on the level. I have the right to tell you now, Lola,” he continued, turning to her. “I knew him in Cleveland two years ago. He comes here to your house, and takes you to theatres and concerts.”
Lola looked at him, surprised. “Surely I am not going to make the sudden discovery that I have bound myself to a jealous old Ogre, am I?” she inquired.
“Fenway,” said John bluntly, “has a wife in Cleveland.”