“It would make Lola very happy, Paul,” replied Dr. Barnhelm. “She met the child in the Park over a year ago and brought her to me. Of all her protégées Nellie has always been the one she seemed to care the most about. I have been glad to see that she still thinks of her.”
“And now,” said Dr. Crossett smilingly, “you two are both out of patience because Lola is doing the very thing you wanted her to do.”
“I want her to be charitable,” broke in John. “It was her almost divine pity for this very child that first showed me the sort of girl she was. But she has spent three whole afternoons there this week. Surely that is overdoing it.”
“Ah! The selfishness of the young,” remarked Dr. Crossett, turning the pages of his paper and carelessly looking over the headlines. “Because she loves you, she must love no one else? Is that it? Because she is going to give her whole life to you, she must not take any little minutes for herself?”
“Oh, I know!” John spoke regretfully, uneasily conscious of the jealousy that for some time had been creeping into all his thoughts of her. “I am getting to be a beast. I am sure I don’t know why. I was never jealous before or nervous, never in my life! There must be something wrong with me.”
“There is,” replied the Doctor in his best professional manner. “Will you allow me,” and he took John’s unresisting hand and put his finger to his pulse. “You are suffering from an ailment that requires the most careful nursing. For most ailments we nurse the patient, but this particular disease, commonly called love, must itself be nursed or it will die!”
“You are laughing at me, Doctor, and I don’t at all blame you,” said John as the Doctor dropped his hand and started to resume his reading of the paper. “I can’t think what can have detained Lola, but it is absurd of me to be out of patience with her about it.”
“Doctor.” Maria stood in the doorway, and spoke rather timidly. “Jane says that you won’t have any dinner at all unless you take it now.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Dr. Crossett. “Now matters are growing serious. I find, Martin, that our long walk has given me an appetite.”
“I could keep something hot for Miss Lola,” suggested Maria, who had come to the end of her powers of persuasion with the indignant Jane, and knew that unless dinner could be served at once there was a strong probability of her having to serve it alone, without the help of this haughty stranger who had been engaged by Lola soon after they had given up their old simple manner of living. “It was such a nice dinner, Doctor, but there won’t be anything fit to eat left; it’s been ready over an hour.”