Lola

  Produced by Barbara Tozier, Brian Kerr, Bill Tozier andthe Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net

  CLARA KIMBALL YOUNG AS "LOLA."]

  LOLA

  BY

  OWEN DAVIS

  AUTHOR OF "SINNERS," ETC.

  ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTO-PLAY PRODUCED AND COPYRIGHTEDBY THE WORLD FILM CORPORATION

  NEW YORK

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  PUBLISHERS

  Copyright, 1915, by GROSSET & DUNLAP

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I. FATHER AND DAUGHTER II. A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL III. DR. PAUL CROSSETT IV. BROUGHT TO LIFE V. A LOVER'S QUARREL VI. IN THE SWIM VII. DANCE HALL GLITTER VIII. LOLA TELLS FALSEHOODS IX. THE DIAMOND NECKLACE X. MARIA ACCUSED XI. LOLA TRAPPED XII. LOLA'S FLIGHT XIII. LOLA GOES TO FENWAY'S XIV. ON THE ROAD XV. ANOTHER CONQUEST XVI. A SERIOUS LETTER XVII. FENWAY'S DIVORCE GRANTED XVIII. ONCE MORE IN NEW YORK XIX. WILL POWER XX. MR. BARNES RETURNS XXI. CONCLUSION

  LOLA

  World Film Corporation _Presents_

  _CLARA KIMBALL YOUNG_

  _in_ "LOLA" _by_ Owen Davis

  A SHUBERT FEATURE

  _PHOTO-PLAY IN FIVE ACTS_

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Lola Clara Kimball Young Dr. Barnhelm, her father Alec B. Francis Dr. Crossett, her friend Edward M. Kimball Dick Fenway } in love with Lola { James Young John Dorris } { Frank Holland Mrs. Harlan Olga Humphreys Stephen Bradley Edward Donneley Julia Bradley Irene Tams Marie Mary Moore Mrs. Mooney Julia Stuart Nellie Mooney Baby Esmond Dr. Mortimer Lionel Belmore Life-Saver Cecil Rejan

  LOLA

  CHAPTER I

  FATHER AND DAUGHTER

  The old man lay back in his chair asleep. The morning sun beat againstthe drawn window shades, filling the room with a dim, almost cathedrallight. An oil lamp, which had performed its duty faithfully throughthe night, now seemed to resent its neglect, and spluttered angrily.There was the usual sound of the busy city's street outside thewindow, for the morning was advancing, but here in the room it wasvery quiet. A quaint little Dutch clock ticked away regularly, and thetired man's soft breathing came and went, peacefully, for his sleepwas untroubled, his heart was full of happiness.

  Presently the door opened, and a young girl came into the room, andseeing him, there in the chair, she stopped, afraid for a moment, thenstepped forward and bent over him. She smiled as she straightened up,and turning called out softly:

  "Miss Lola! Miss Lola!"

  "Coming, Maria," the answer came in a clear, fresh young voice; for amoment the sleeper hesitated, about to awake, then thought better ofit, and dreamed a dream of the triumph that was to be his.

  "Hush!" Maria spoke softly as Lola came into the room, and Lola,following the girl's pointed finger, smiled lovingly as she crossedand stood beside her father's chair.

  There was a strong contrast between these two girls as they stoodthere for a moment, side by side, young and good-looking as bothundoubtedly were.

  Lola was the sleeper's daughter. Maria, their servant. Maria wasstrong and rugged; Lola delicate and blond. Maria's splendid youngbody had been developed by hard work, while her mind had been stuntedby a miserable childhood of neglect and abuse. Lola, since hermother's death, had been her father's constant companion, and hadseemed to catch from him something of his grave and scholarly outlookupon life, lightened, however, by the impulses of a naturally sweetand sunny disposition, and the brave happiness of youth.

  "He hasn't been to bed at all!" exclaimed Maria, as Lola stooped andput her hand lightly on the sleeper's arm.

  "Father!" she called softly. "Father! It is morning!"

  He awoke, startled, for a moment rather bewildered, then added hissmile to theirs, and said brightly, "I am very happy, Lola."

  "I'm sure you haven't any right to be, and, of course, you know thatyou ought to be scolded?"

  "Perhaps so," he returned, looking with pride at a complicatedelectric apparatus on the table beside him, "but I have worked it allout! I am sure of it this time!"

  "Put that dreadful lamp out, and open the window!" called out Lola toMaria, as she started to pick up from the floor bits of broken glassand pieces of wire.

  "I do wish you would use the electric lights, father. That lamp isn'tenough, even if you could be trusted to refill it, which you can't!"

  "You can't teach an old dog new tricks, my dear," smiled the Doctor,as he rose, rather stiffly. "The big thoughts won't come by electriclight, at least not to an old fellow who learned to do his thinkingunder an old-fashioned student's lamp."

  "Oh, I don't mind, not really," answered Lola. "And, besides, the lampsaves money."

  She was turning away when the Doctor's low chuckle of amusementstopped her. "Are you laughing at me, father?" she questioned, withpretended sternness.

  "Just a little perhaps, my dear, because after this you need not thinkof little savings. You shall give up your school-teaching; you shallhave new dresses every day of your life, and hats---- La! Never mind,you shall see."

  "You really think so, father?"

  "I know it! After last night I shall never doubt it again. I did notdare to stop until my work was done, and then I sat there, dreaming,until I fell asleep."

  He looked again at his apparatus with such pride and confidence thateven Lola, who knew nothing of the details of his experimental work,was thrilled with the hope of his success, and rested her handtenderly upon his arm as she stood beside him.

  They were much alike, these two, as they stood there together, thetall, rather delicate old man, and the fragile, sensitive girl.Dreamers both, one had but to look at them to see that, and theystarted apart, almost guiltily, as the little clock on the mantelstruck eight.

  "Eight o'clock! Oh, Maria! Eight o'clock! We must hurry!" Lola calledout to Maria, who was busily arranging the breakfast table in theadjoining room.

  "Come, father!" she continued. "Run and get yourself ready forbreakfast, and the very minute we get through I am going to put you tobed."

  "Not to-day, my dear," he answered gaily; "this is to be my busy day!"

  As he left the room, smiling and happy, Maria looked after himanxiously.

  "He'll be sick if you don't look out, Miss Lola. He don't know no moreabout takin' care of himself than one of my sister's babies."

  Lola laughed cheerfully as she looked with approval over the neatlyarranged breakfast table.

  "I think he is perfectly well, Maria, and quite delighted with himselfthis morning. He feels sure that he has made a wonderful discovery,something he has been working on for years. I know that he thinks itis going to be a fine thing for all the world and for us, Maria; hesays it is going to make us rich."

  "I hope so, I'm sure. There's lots of little things we're needing inthe kitchen," said Maria practically. "Anyway, he's the best doctor inthe world, and he ought to have the most money!"

  "Don't get his egg too hard."

  "No, Miss, it will be just like he wants it."

  When the Doctor returned he found everything ready for his breakfast,and he stopped to greet Maria kindly, as he always did, for aside fromhis habit of rather old-fashioned courtesy she was a great favorite ofhis.

  "Would you like a pan-cake, Doct
or?" she inquired anxiously, as shestood beside the table. "There's a Dutch lady boarding with mybrother's wife. She showed me how to make real German ones."

  "I can't have you spoiling father," reproved Lola gently. "BesidesGerman pan-cakes are not supposed to be eaten for breakfast."

  "She knows no more about German food," said the Doctor, "than anIrishman's pig! You shall make me one of your pan-cakes to-night."

  Maria smiled gratefully at him, and leaving the apartment ran downstairs to the letter-box in the hall, returning a moment later withthe morning mail, which she put beside Lola's plate.

  "Four letters," said Lola, glancing over them. "One for me, a bill!Two for you, father." She pushed them across the cloth. "And, Maria!Oh, Maria! This is for you. Oh, Maria! You're blushing. Who do yousuppose it's from," she teased, as Maria stepped forward eagerly andtook the letter.

  "I guess, Miss," said Maria in confusion, "I guess it's from a friendof mine."

  Lola looked after her, as she hurried out of the room, the preciousletter clutched tightly in her hand.

  "Poor girl! That is from her sweetheart, the one she calls Mr. Barnes,and she can't read it."

  "I thought you were to teach her," remarked her father, as he helpedhimself to a second piece of toast.

  "I am trying my best," answered Lola, "but she never had a chancebefore, that's what makes it so hard for her now."

  "She has done wonders since you found her, my dear girl. She hascaught the spirit of this great New York, and she is growing veryfast."

  "Hello!" he exclaimed, as he opened the first of his letters. "FromPaul Crossett."

  Lola looked up, surprised and pleased, as her father hastily read thebrief note, and continued.

  "He is here, at last! Here in New York! And he is coming up thismorning."

  "That's fine!" exclaimed Lola, her face reflecting her father'spleasure. "I have heard so much about him all my life, and now I amreally going to see him."

  "I, myself," said the Doctor, "have only seen him once in ten years,only twice in twenty. He is a great man now, rich and famous, but hewas a scamp when I first knew him." He laughed softly as his mindtravelled back to the time when he and this successful Frenchphysician were boys together at the University.

  "How was it?" inquired Lola, "that a Frenchman was your chum atHeidelberg?"

  "He was," her father replied, "even as a boy, a cynic, a philosopher,and he amused me. He had a big mind, and a big heart, and I lovedhim."

  As he spoke he opened the second letter, and after a moment's readinglooked up at Lola, his face reflecting an almost comic dismay."Listen, Lola! 'My dear Doctor,'" he read slowly, his voice betrayinghis surprise and growing distress, "'I am going to call upon youto-morrow, and ask you to do me a great honor. I love yourdaughter----'" he stopped helplessly, almost like a child, afraid tocontinue.

  Lola rose from the table, blushing furiously, but with a happy lightunderlying the guilty look in her eyes.

  "Father!"

  He looked at her for a moment, and gradually his look softened and thesurprise gave way to a humorous tenderness.

  "Let's tear it up," he suggested, holding the unwelcome paper outbefore him. "I think that would be the best way out of this."

  "Oh, no, father!" exclaimed Lola, catching his hand anxiously; "do goon, it's very interesting."

  "Oh," said the Doctor drily, "then we will proceed. 'I love yourdaughter, and I want to ask you to let her become my wife.'"

  "And to think," said Lola, as he paused, "and to think that I didn'tknow his handwriting."

  "So! So you know who had the impudence to write this," assumed herfather.

  "Well," replied Lola rather timidly, "I have my suspicions."

  "Oh, this love business," groaned the Doctor in great disgust; "justas I have everything fixed, this must come! It is Mr. Fenway, Isuppose?"

  "Father!" cried Lola, indignantly. "Mr. Fenway! The idea!"

  The Doctor turned the page quickly and read the signature, thenexclaimed to her in wonder, "John Dorris! And I thought he only camehere to talk to me! Did you know anything of this?"

  "Anything?" replied Lola. "Well, I--I told him to write to you."

  JAMES YOUNG AS DICK FENWAY.]

  For just a moment he hesitated; they were alone together in the world,these two, and the bond between them had been very close, and now allwas to be changed; this stranger, a man, whom a few months before theyhad never seen, had stepped into their lives, and never again wouldthis man's child be to him quite what she had been for so manypeaceful, happy years.

  Something of the bitterness of this thought must have become visiblein his face, for Lola stepped to him anxiously, and he, generous andafraid of hurting any living creature as he always was, smiled at hertenderly and put his arm about her as he spoke gravely: "God bless youLola, and if he is the right man, God bless you both."

  She nestled against him, reassured by his tone, and he continued,"John Dorris, a fine fellow, but I thought for a moment that it mustbe Dick Fenway."

  "Father," she protested, "it isn't at all like you to be so silly!Dick Fenway is nothing but--but a millionaire!"

  "Am I supposed to sympathize with him for that?" inquired the Doctorgravely. "But, my dear," he added, as he saw that she was mutelyappealing for his sympathy, "I like your young man best, although heis like the rest of us; he isn't half good enough for the woman heloves."

  He led her tenderly into the front room, and seating himself in hisfavorite old chair, drew her down upon one of its sturdy arms, andbegan to question her about John Dorris. At first she was consciousand embarrassed, but little by little, reassured by his sympathy, sheopened her heart to him, and let him see that this new love that hadcome into her life was not a passing fancy, but a feeling so pure andtender that he sat awed before it, as all good men are awed when for amoment it is permitted them to read the secrets of a woman's heart. Hehelped her greatly in that half hour, and as she clung to him, timid,half afraid even of her own happiness, he spoke to her of her motherand of what her love had been to him.

  In all the world I think there is no stronger tie, no closer sympathy,than there is between a father and a daughter, and these two felt thatthen, and gloried in it, never dreaming of that awful thing that wasso soon to come between them.

  At last he left her, and went to change his clothes, and when Mariaentered the room ten minutes later, she still sat there, her lover'sletter in her hand, her mind filled with strange, new thoughts, halfhappiness, half fear.

  Maria went to her, and seeing the look on her face, and the openletter in her hand, said timidly, "That's a letter from him?"

  "Yes," smiled Lola happily, "from him!"

  "So is mine, Miss," volunteered poor Maria, "but I can't read it."Lola turned quickly to her.

  "Shall I read it for you?"

  "Thank you, Miss, I knew you would, but I'd be ashamed to have himknow it. He ain't like most of the young fellars hanging around. He'ssmart! He's a sailor, on the _Vermont_, and he's just fine!"

  "This is from Boston," said Lola, as she glanced at the open letterMaria handed to her. "I am glad to read it for you, of course, butbefore long I am going to have you so that you will be able to readhis letters for yourself."

  "I hope so, Miss Lola, but I'm awful slow. I don't know what I'd do ifit wasn't for you," she continued gratefully; "there ain't anybodyelse in the world I could bear to see reading his letters. I'd ratherjust keep them, without ever knowing what he said. It's a lot just toknow that a person wants to write to you."

  "'Boston, June Third,' began Lola. 'Respected Friend: I write youthese lines to say that I am well, and I hope you are the same. Bostonis a fine City, with lots of people and many buildings. There is waterhere with ships and things in it, just like New York. I often think ofyou, and no girl seems like you to me, so no more from,

  "'Yours respectfully, "'Wm. BARNES.'"

  "Ain
't that a fine letter?" said Maria, with great admiration."Getting letters like that makes me more ashamed than ever. I'm afraidI'm too ignorant to appreciate all he tells about the countries hevisits."

  "It is a very fine letter, I am sure, Maria, and he must be a finefellow, and very fond of you?"

  "Oh, yes, I'm sure he is," replied Maria happily. "At first I wouldn'thave nothing to do with him, but he kept on coming around,--and nowI'm glad he did. After what I saw at home I about made up my mind notto let any man come near me, but--but somehow he's different. Hewouldn't act like father, or like my sister's husband, I know; he'sthe kind that seems to think a girl ought to be taken care of; that'snice, when you never had anybody that thought that in all your life,isn't it?"

  "It's very nice, Maria," replied Lola, quite touched by the tone ofreal affection in Maria's voice. "I am sure that it is the nicestthing in the world." As she spoke a ring of the bell interrupted them,and Maria, hastily putting the precious letter in her apron pocket,went to the door and admitted a shabby little woman and a delicatechild.

  "Good morning, Mrs. Mooney," said Lola, as she caught sight of them."Good morning, Nellie! Come right in. Tell father, Maria!" shecontinued, and as Maria left the room she bent over little Nellie andkissed her tenderly, then turned to the anxious mother and did herbest to put her at her ease.

  "I'm afraid we're too early, Miss," began Mrs. Mooney, in that tired,colorless voice that tells its own story of hardship and hopelessness,"but Nellie couldn't rest at all last night. We don't want to bebothering your father, though; he's been kind enough already."

  "He is quite ready for you, I'm sure," replied Lola, "but I will go tohim; he might need me to help him with his things." As she left theroom Nellie looked after her wistfully.

  "There's nobody I ever see like her," she said, in that tone one oftenhears in children's voices when they speak of those whom they haveselected for that strange form of hero worship so common to the young."When he hurts me, and I have to cry, I'll see her with the tears inher eyes."

  "I know," replied her mother gratefully; "it was she that firstbrought the Doctor to see you, and he'll cure you yet, and if they dothat----" She stopped for a moment and clutched at her breast, asthough to tear away the dread and anguish that was there. "It's allright, Nellie--it's all right, I'm telling you! You're going to be asgood as any of 'em yet!"

  LOLA VISITS THE MOONEY FAMILY.]