Lola was very comfortable; it was a warm day, but there was a breeze from the water, and she lay there, every muscle relaxed, shading her face with her parasol, which she had dropped on the sand, looking dreamily out to where a long line of black smoke on the horizon marked the passing of some great steamer.
Somehow the thought of a ship at sea brought Dr. Crossett to her mind. She often thought of him, more often than of her father or of John. The Doctor had loved her; she knew that; not as a father loves, through instinct, or as a lover, from desire, but because he had put her in the place of the one woman who had represented the idea of love in his life. He was a rich man, Dr. Crossett; what fun they could have together in Paris! If anything ever went wrong with her, she was going to him; she had quite made up her mind to that, but, after all, what could go wrong? Dick would always give her what she wanted, and if not Dick, there were plenty of others. The only trouble was that if they had money they were either stupid, like poor Dick or old, like Mr. Bradley; if they were strong and handsome, like that splendid young life-guard, they were hopelessly poor. On the whole, however, she was satisfied with life. She had done well enough so far, and she very strongly intended to do better. She was very tired, very sleepy; the little waves breaking over the smooth sand soothed her; the wind swept softly over her like a caress; she laughed happily to herself as she thought of Dick's anger. How silly he was. What would he do if he knew where she had really been, as he stood outside her door, the night before. How had she dared to do it? She blushed red at the thoughts that came crowding into her head, and thrilling, trembling with a new knowledge of life, she fell asleep.
She stirred uneasily after a time, and sitting up suddenly, conscious as one sometimes is of being the object of another's thoughts, she met the eyes of Mr. Miller, the old gentleman of the night before, fixed earnestly upon her. "How long had he stood there, looking at her?" she thought angrily to herself. "How dared he smile at her like that, as though his wise old eyes could read her mind."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Barnhelm." He spoke in the gentle, kindly voice she had so resented the night before. "I am afraid that I have disturbed you."