CHAPTER V
A LOVER'S QUARREL
Dr. Crossett looked at his friend anxiously and found, as he was prepared to find, that the Doctor seemed nervous and depressed, but when, after a few moments, Lola left them together, he was hardly prepared for the look of shame and humiliation he saw on his face.
“You sent for me, Martin,” he said, trying to show in his voice the deep sympathy and friendship that he really felt.
“Paul,” the Doctor answered, after a moment’s hesitation, “the money I borrowed from you is gone! Gone! and not for the purpose for which you loaned it.”
“I made no condition, Martin. The loan was my own suggestion. I am not a poor man, and all that I have is at your service. It is not worth the tragedy in your face. With the fame that your discovery will bring to you, you can easily repay me. Come!” He put his arm affectionately over Dr. Barnhelm’s shoulder. “Let’s say no more about it. Just tell me of your work. It must be only a few days now before you demonstrate before the Medical Society.”
“To-morrow night,” replied the Doctor. “I have remedied the flaws in the construction of my apparatus, and Saturday Karn & Co. promised to deliver the new machine. They sent me a bill for eight hundred dollars. I”—he stopped, his face flushed with shame; then recovered himself with an effort—“I was unable to pay the amount, and they—they refused to give me credit.”
“But, Martin,” Dr. Crossett spoke gravely, “your life’s work was depending upon the delivery of your apparatus in time for demonstration to-morrow. Surely you should have set aside that sum, no matter what else you sacrificed.”
“I was selfish enough,” replied the Doctor, “to want my mind freed of every care. I allowed Lola to persuade me to place all of the loan in her hands. She knew that this bill was coming. Saturday I—I asked her for the money, and—and she told me that it was gone.”
“Yes.”