THE DIAMOND NECKLACE
"Will they be much longer?" asked John, stepping into the room with a
tray of glasses in one hand and a silver cocktail shaker in the other.
"I am sure I don't know," replied Lola, turning from where she still
stood by the window, and moving slowly across the room to him. "I am
going to try your cocktail, John."
"You? Why, you never drank one in your life."
"What of it? I am curious." She took one of the empty glasses from the
tray and held it out to him coaxingly.
"Your father won't like it," he warned her.
"He won't know it."
"Now, Lola!"
"Don't be an old woman, John! Come!"
He rather reluctantly poured her out a very small drink, as he was far
from sure whether or not the Doctor would approve. Lola, up to now,
had always shown the most complete distaste for any sort of liquor, a
distaste which she really felt; which any healthy young person would
feel were it not for the vague general impression that somewhere in
the drops of liquor is hidden some hint of romance, some glimpse of
mysterious knowledge; the desire of the unknown.
"How very generous," remarked Lola, looking at the few amber drops in
the bottom of her glass.
"Quite enough to begin with," replied John, and he watched her
curiously as she put the glass to her lips, and laughed heartily as he
saw her gasp and the tears come to her eyes.
"Well?" he questioned.
"I don't like it."
"Of course you don't."
"Do you? Does anyone?"
"I think not, Lola. Not at first, anyway. It is the physical
excitement, the stimulation."
"I think I understand," she spoke dreamily, thoughtfully, for she had
often wondered lately why so many people seemed to care so much for a
thing that had never meant anything at all to her, so little that up
to that very moment she had not even been curious. "To change, if only
for a moment the deadly monotony of things. To have another emotion, a
new sensation. You will have to make me cocktails when we are married,
John."
"Well, I----"
"You must! I want to learn everything. I am tired of being just a
girl. Isn't there anything else in life but to sit here with you and
father, and his friends? Are our hearts always going to beat on,
one-two, one-two, like the ticking of a clock? You say you love me,
but you are as cold as ice!"
She drew close and looked up at him queerly. Her eyes now were not the
eyes he knew so well, calm and grave, or smiling; they were deeper, he
thought; deeper, more beautiful, but--they seemed to fascinate him; he
felt himself grow dizzy; the blood leaped in his veins and pounded in
his heart. He put his arms about her and drew her close--close. She
smiled now, with a smile he had never seen on her face before. It made
her look older, wiser. How beautiful she was. She was a woman, no
longer a girl, and all her beauty was his. His!
"You say you love me," she whispered quickly, with a note in her voice
new to him, but strangely thrilling. "If you want to keep my love you
must make me mad for you. Are you made of flesh and blood? Come! Kiss
me!"
He kissed her. Kissed her with a depth of passion such as he had never
dreamed of, and for a moment she returned his kiss, then relaxed and
lay half fainting in his arms, then releasing herself with a low laugh
she stepped away from him.
"There! That's different. I do love you, John, more than I thought I
did."
"Lola!" He tried to take her in his arms again, but she laughingly
avoided him, going around the table, her eyes still challenging him to
follow.
"You are a silly boy, John, but I like you very much to-night." She
bent over the table, tauntingly, alluring. "You are not quite as cold
as you look, John. Wouldn't it be funny if I had to be afraid of you?"
He followed her; she laughed again, and started to run to the door,
and as she did so a small, flat leather box fell out of the fancy
shopping bag she still held in her hand, and which had come
unfastened, as she had drawn herself away from him.
As John stopped and stooped to pick the little box up, her whole
manner changed so suddenly that he was startled. The love, the
mischief, and the deeper feeling that had done so much to intoxicate
him, was wiped out, and in its place there was a look of fear and
anger, and as she spoke her voice was harsh and cold.
"Give that to me."
"Why?" He hesitated, astounded.
"Give it to me."
"Why not?" He handed it to her, and as she took it from him her face
changed again, and she looked relieved and happy.
"What is it, Lola? It looks like a jeweller's box."
"Hush! We are not married yet, Mr. John Dorris. You must not pry into
the mysteries of a lady's toilet."
"Oh!" He laughed happily as she returned the little box to her bag,
and made sure that it was fastened. "It is hardly fair for you to
blame me for our not having married, Lola, is it? Come, dear; why
should you keep putting me off? I have money enough to take care of
you, and I'll be making more right along now. Come, Lola! Can't it be
soon?"
"That is quite enough of such nonsense," she said airily, still
keeping away from him. But he was serious now. He had been deeply
stirred, and, like most men who, as a general thing, have their
emotions well under control, it was difficult for him to so suddenly
regain his composure. "I--I love you, Lola!"
The real earnestness in his tone stopped her. It was as though
something deep in her heart answered to the yearning in his voice, and
she turned gently to him, a look on her face that he had not seen for
weeks. The look of the gentle, timid girl who had learned to come to
him for comfort and protection.
"You must love me." She was pleading now. "I need your love, John. You
must keep on loving me, with all your heart."
"I love you, Lola, with all my soul."
There was terror in her face now, an instinctive terror that she
understood as little as he did.
"Don't! You frighten me!" She trembled, pale and distressed. "I--I
don't know why, but I am afraid."
"Lola, what is it?"
She did not answer, but stood there, a queer, thoughtful, puzzled
expression on her face; and before he could ask her any more questions
they heard Mrs. Mooney and Nellie as they passed down the hall, and a
moment after Dr. Crossett and Dr. Barnhelm entered, smiling happily.
"She is going to be all right, that little Nellie," announced Dr.
Crossett gleefully as a boy might have done. "Ah! Sometimes it is a
very fine thing to be alive!"
"Doctor," said Maria, standing in the open door, "Jane says she'd like
to have a chance to wash up before breakfast."
"Come!" The Doctor, who had quite forgotten dinner in his joy over his
friend's confidence in Nellie's recovery, looked at Maria
remorsefully.
"All right, Maria, we are quite ready."
"We will need more ice in these cocktails," said John. "Will you help
me, Maria?"
They left the room together and Dr. Crossett went to Lola and offered
her his arm.
"My arm, Mademoiselle."
"Please don't wait for me, Doctor. All I want is a little drop of
coffee. I had tea with Mrs. Rupert. You run right along. I will be
with you in a few moments."
"I would wait," he returned politely, "but, oh, I am so hungry!"
"You poor man. Run!"
"I run!" And he left the room, half dragging Dr. Barnhelm with him.
Lola stood for a moment, until she heard the scraping of the chairs as
they seated themselves about the table in the next room, then, with a
quick, furtive look over her shoulder, she took the small flat box
from her bag and, opening it, held up under the brilliant electric
lights a flashing, sparkling chain of gorgeous diamonds. No one saw
her, as she stood there, playing lovingly with them, dropping them
over her dress, holding them about her throat, her eyes blazing with
joy and excitement. Had there been anyone to see, the thought would
have come to him that in her face there was a passion of greed
scarcely human, and when, for a moment, she thought she heard a step
approaching, a look came to her as she hid the jewels in her breast
like the look that comes to a wild beast of the jungle, when it is
threatened with being robbed of its prey.
After a moment, standing there, tense and watchful, she drew them out
again, and held them up, her face all smiles and happiness, her eyes
flashing back the brilliancy of the jewels. At last she tired of them
and dropped them carelessly on the table, and stood there thinking of
where she could conceal them. It would be nice to have them always
with her, to feel them about her neck, but she was afraid. The
possession of a fortune in diamonds would be a difficult matter to
explain. She thought of the wall safe, and at once decided to put them
there, so she went to it quickly and worked the combination. As she
opened the safe the first thing she saw was the large roll of bills,
left there by her father. She held them in her hand for a moment. Dr.
Crossett had given her father more money. She was very glad of that.
It was so tiresome to be always hearing him complain of poverty. She
threw the bills back carelessly, and, taking out a small jewel box of
black japaned wood, unlocked it with a tiny key from her bag and,
putting her necklace back in its case, locked the box and the safe,
turning away quickly as she heard the bell ring and Maria go to the
door.
A moment later, as Maria returned down the hall with a card in her
hand, Lola met her.
"What is it, Maria?"
"A lady to see your father."
"A patient?"
"She didn't say."
"Let me see that card." Maria gave it to her, and, after glancing at
it, she said quietly, "Show her in here, Maria."
"She asked especially to see your father."
"Do as I tell you, Maria."
"Yes, Miss."
Maria went obediently to the hall, returning a moment later, followed
by a dark, middle-aged woman, showily dressed, and evidently in a very
bad temper. The woman bowed coldly, but Lola made no pretence of
returning her bow.
"You need not wait, Maria."
Maria left the room, and Lola stepped to the door of the dining-room,
and looked in, smiling at the three men who so eagerly rose to greet
her.
"Don't get up, please. I am not coming just yet, only please don't
drink all the coffee."
She closed the door, and, turning suddenly on the woman, who stood in
the center of the room, she demanded angrily:
"How dare you come here?"
"I came to see your father," responded Madam Zelya curtly, a trace of
foreign accent in her speech, and more than a trace of stubborn anger
in her manner.
"I told you, over the telephone, that I would call, or send a check,
in a day or two."
"I cannot wait a day or two! The bill is long past due. My landlord,
he vill not vait a day or two. My girls they vill not vait a day or
two for their wages. Ze money it must be paid to-night."
"My dear Madam Zelya! Won't you be seated?"
"No! I prefer to stand. I vait here until I ged my money. Ef I stand
perhaps I'd nod vait so long."
"Now, Madam, as a favor to me----"
"I trust you too much," broke in Madam angrily. "Meeses Harlan bring
you to me. I gif you credit, you do not pay. Meeses Harlan she half
told me that your fadder he 'es a great doctor. Well, ve shall see if
he vill pay."
"I want you to go," Lola spoke imperiously. "Go! At once!"
"Six hundred and sefenty-fife dollars ef you please."
"Wait!" The thought had suddenly flashed into Lola's mind. There was
money there in the safe, a large sum. She had seen several
hundred-dollar bills. This woman would not go without money. Unless
she went at once, before dinner was over, John and her father would
learn about the bill for six hundred and seventy-five dollars. They
would not understand; they would make a fuss. Surely anything is
better than a fuss.
She did not hesitate once she had made up her mind, but stepped to the
safe and turned the combination, opened the door and, taking out the
roll of bills, calmly counted out the necessary sum.
"You have a receipted bill?"
"Yes, yes, Miss Barnhelm."
The woman was all smiles now, bowing respectfully and humbly.
"Take it." Lola held the money out with one hand, as she took the
receipted bill with the other.
"Thank you, Miss Barnhelm. I hope I haf nod offended you. I am a poor
woman, and I haf many expenses."
"I have paid you--now, go."
"I haf some beautiful new goods, just from Paris. If you will
call----"
"In future," said Lola coldly, "I shall make my purchases from better
established places of business. I am not used to being annoyed.
Maria!" She stepped to the door and called.
"Ef you would led me try once more I would not trouble you about the
bill, Miss Barnhelm. Et es nod from these people who haf money that we
want it, it es only from dose that haffen't it."
This piece of worldly philosophy, however, made no impression upon
Lola, who smiled calmly and haughtily, enjoying the poor woman's
servile repentance, until Maria came in answer to her call.
"The door, Maria." And Madam Zelya, unable to find any trace of
softening in Lola's face, was forced to follow Maria, her mind divided
between grief over the loss of a good customer, and joy over the
collection of a bill, that the instinct of her Hungarian Jew ancestors
had warned her was to be classed as doubtful.
As they left the room, Lola stepped to the safe, meaning to replace
the rest of the money, but as she saw it in her hand, and thought of
other little accounts that pressed for settlement, she hesitated. "I
don't see what difference it makes," she thought. "Dr. Crossett can
easily give father more, and they would probably make just as great a
row over the loss of the six hundred and seventy-five, as they will
now about the whole amount."
So she put it in her bag, locked the safe and stepped into the
dining-room, just as coffee was brought on. She had grown very fond of
coffee of late, strong and black, with no cream or sugar. It seemed to
tone her up. She was perfectly well, but she had grown to depend upon
the pleasant exhilaration. She drank two cups with them. Dr. Crossett
thought as he watched her that never in all his experience had he seen
a young woman in such splendid physical condition. Her father smiled
on her proudly, as she met and routed the Doctor's affectionate
teasing, and as for John, he was already so completely in love that he
was quite satisfied just to sit and watch her. She had changed greatly
of late, there could be no doubt of that. The girl was gone, but in
her place was this brilliant, fascinating woman. John thought himself
a very lucky man.