to assist
her father when he's in difficulties. And Lola'll recognize her duty.
I'll just go over yonder to the pavilion, ma'am, and see what she
says."

DESTINY PRESSES

CHAPTER FIVE

DESTINY PRESSES

Jane stood confounded. Her aghast mind, following Mr. Keene's project,
seemed to see him rakishly ascending the pavilion steps, among a
wondering throng, and making way to Lola as she sat, happy and honored,
with her friends. Jane had a sharp prevision of Lola's face when her
father should appear before her, so different from the tender ideal of
him which she had cherished, so intent upon himself, so bent upon
shattering with his first word to his child all those visions of
unselfish kindness and generosity which had made her thoughts of him
beautiful.

Lola would go with him. She would rise and leave her home, friends and
happy prospects to follow him to whatever life he might judge best,
however rough, however wild. In ordinary circumstances Jane could not
deny to herself that this course would be the right course for a
daughter; that such an one would do well to succor a father's failings,
to add hope to his despondency and love to the mitigation of his
trials. But Mr. Keene was not despondent, nor were his trials of a sort
which might not easily be tempered by something like industry on his
own part. He was frankly idle. He loved better than simple work the
precarious excitement of prospecting--an occupation which, except in
isolated and accidental instances, cannot be pursued to any good save
with the aid of science and capital.

Camp life might not be bad for Mr. Keene; but that it would be good for
a girl so young and sensitive to every impression as Lola, Jane
doubted.

"I got to consider what's best for her," thought Jane, while Keene
himself was beginning once more to sympathize with the silent misery in
her face.

"I never had no idea you thought so much of Lola!" he exclaimed. "She
wasn't the kind of child a stranger'd be apt to get attached to. I hope
you don't think I'd do anything mean? That isn't my style! All is, I'm
her father, and a father ought to have some say-so. Now aint that true,
Miss Combs?"

Jane was thinking. "Would three hundred dollars help you out?" she
demanded. "I've got that much. I've been saving it toward Lola's
schooling next year."

"What, have you been sending her to pay-school?" Keene looked
surprised, and unexpectedly his eyes began to dim. "I'd have