CHAPTER III
DR. PAUL CROSSETT
From her window, a few hours later, Lola could see her father as he turned in from Eighth Avenue and walked briskly toward the house. With him was a rather short, extremely animated, and perfectly groomed gentleman, whom she at once knew to be Doctor Paul Crossett. Even from that distance she could plainly see that, although she knew him to be a man of her father’s age, he had the look of one much younger.
It would be a bold man who would dare to state that married life and the atmosphere of a home do more to bring about grey hairs and wrinkles than the emptiness of a bachelor’s existence, but in this case, at least, the contrast was startling.
Paul Crossett, quite fifty, had, and looked to have, all the enthusiasms of youth. He was a Frenchman, and to a close observer he was perhaps rather freer in gesticulations than our somewhat stiff New Yorkers, but he was far from being the Frenchman of the comic supplement. Indeed, Paul Crossett was a real citizen of the world, quite as much at home in New York, London or Berlin as he was in Paris. He was one of the best known authorities on nervous disorders in the medical world, besides being a surgeon of international reputation. As he entered the room with her father a moment later, Lola advanced to meet him with a smile, but, to her surprise, at the sight of her he stopped, and a look of deep sorrow, almost of fear, came into his face.
“This is Lola, Paul,” said the Doctor proudly.
In a moment the look on Dr. Crossett’s face changed to one of eager welcome, and he stepped forward and took both of her extended hands in his.
“You are as your mother was,” he said gently, then as he stooped to kiss her saying softly, “My age permits,” she saw a tear on his smooth, almost boyish cheek, and with a woman’s quick intuition she understood and loved him for the love he had had for her mother, whom he had not seen since his early manhood, but whom he had never forgotten, and never could forget.
E. M. KIMBALL AS DOCTOR CROSSET.
In that moment grew up between those two an affection and an understanding that under happier circumstances would have lasted all their lives. In the awful time, now so rapidly approaching, he was to be her truest friend. His love and sympathy was to outlast that of lover and father. He gave to her the place in his heart that her mother had always had, the same blind love and devotion, and it was hers until the end.