FENWAY'S DIVORCE GRANTED
"One moment, Miss Barnhelm!" Lola turned as she was about to enter the
hotel, and found herself facing Alice Bradley, who had left the little
group about Molly and had followed her.
"Well? What do you want?"
"You brute! You beast!" Alice cried out, tears of pity and anger
running down her cheeks. "How could you! You--you are not a woman; you
are an animal!"
"If I were you, Miss Bradley, I should be careful what I said. As,
perhaps you saw, I am not in a patient mood." Lola spoke quietly, but
if Alice had not been carried away by her indignation she would hardly
have dared to face the look in her eyes. "That dog hurt me; look; my
wrist is bleeding. It hurt me, I tell you, and I can't bear pain! I
won't bear it! I had a right to defend myself."
"Defend yourself," exclaimed Alice contemptuously, "against a poor,
helpless little creature no larger than a kitten! You should be driven
away from this hotel; you shall be, if I have anything to say about
it! In fact you must leave here at once, or I shall go myself! That is
what I am going to tell my father as soon as I see him."
"And when do you expect to see him?"
"As soon as he returns."
"Really? Not until then? Do you know that I feel quite sorry for you,
Miss Bradley?"
She entered the hotel and went at once to her room, and when Dick
knocked at her door a few moments later she refused to open it,
telling him to wait for her on the front veranda.
Dick returned reluctantly to his friends; for once he agreed with
them. Lola's brutality was beyond all excuse. He was a kind-hearted
fellow, and the sight of the little girl's sorrow over the death of
her favorite had moved him deeply. He found it hard to forgive Lola;
he had made excuses for her times enough, but there had been something
in the horror of this last scene difficult to forget. He found Bob and
Mrs. Harlan waiting on the veranda, and he knew by the way they looked
at him that they had made up their minds to some definite action.
"Dick," said Mrs. Harlan, as soon as he was within hearing, "we've had
enough, Bob and I; we're through!"
"Now, Madge----" he began soothingly.
"No, Dick, we like you, but we've had enough. We are going to New York
to-night. You can't say we haven't stood for a lot, but this thing has
made me sick. The girl is crazy, or worse, and life's too short to
take a chance on what she'll do next."
"You are going to leave me?"
"Yes."
"How about it, Bob?"
"Well, Dick, I'm no quitter, but for me it's 'goodnight, nurse.'"
"It's no business of mine, I suppose, Dick," Mrs. Harlan said, after a
moment of awkward silence, "but we've been rather good friends for a
long time. I wish you'd come with us."
"And leave Lola?"
"Beat her to it; she'll leave you, if you don't."
"I--I love her, Madge."
"I know--well, good-bye, Dick; I'm going to pack."
"Good-bye, Madge; I'll see you again before you go."
Mrs. Harlan left them quickly; she knew that she was going to cry in
another minute. She was quite aware that no woman of her age could
afford to be seen in tears, and Bob had a particular hatred for
anything of the sort. She went to her room and did her packing, then
decided to go and offer to help Bob with his things.
As she went down the hall she noticed that the door of Lola's room was
open, and as she glanced in quickly she saw with surprise that Lola's
trunks were locked and that the room was empty. She entered quickly
and looked about; Lola had gone; she saw that at a glance. Her
hand-bag was missing, her toilet articles put away; nothing was in
sight but the two locked trunks. She had bolted. "A good thing, too,"
she thought bitterly to herself, but she knew that she must hurry and
let Dick know.
She found the two men where she had left them over an hour before;
they were seated silently looking out at the water, and they did not
even look up as she stopped beside them.
"Dick," she spoke gently, resting her hand for a moment on his
shoulder, "do you know where Lola is?"
"In her room. She told me to wait for her here."
"She's gone, Dick."
"What!"
"Gone! You'd better ask them at the desk, but her trunks are locked;
there's no doubt about it; she has gone."
"Where could she go? What are you talking about?"
"Hush," she said quickly. "Here is Miss Bradley. You don't want her to
know."
Alice Bradley stopped before them, an open letter in one hand, a bank
check in the other. She was very pale and looked frightened.
"Mr. Fenway, they tell me at the office that Miss Barnhelm left the
hotel over an hour ago. Do you know where she has gone?"
"Why do you ask?" demanded Mrs. Harlan, with a sudden flash of
understanding.
"See!" Alice held out the check and the letter. "My father has left
me! This letter was brought by a messenger. He says he was called away
on business, and for me to remain here with my aunt, who arrives
to-night. That woman has taken him away from me! My father--who has
always been so good to me--taken him away from me; do you hear?"
"Telegram for you, Mr. Fenway." A bell-boy came up to Dick, holding
out a telegram. "Just came, sir."
"It's all right!" Dick sprang up and, seeing the envelope, tore it
open. "She wouldn't leave me without a word! I knew she wouldn't. She
has gone, yes, but she's wired me where to join her!" He opened the
message and read it at a glance, then without a word, but with a look
on his face that brought the tears to soft-hearted Mrs. Harlan's eyes,
he handed her the message and turned and left them. She read it aloud.
It was from his lawyer in Cleveland, and read, "Divorce arranged.
Congratulations."