The Stoic tod-3

by Theodore Dreiser

  But then suddenly, the strangeness, the mystery, the final defiance of her will, emphasized by his being here, aroused her to anger. Who had brought him, and how? At what hour? For only the previous evening, she, by her orders and commands to the servants, had barred all doors. Yet here he was! Obviously, his, not her, friends and servants must have collaborated to have done this for him. And so plainly now, all would be anticipating a change of attitude on her part, and if so, all the customary and formal last rites due to any such distinguished man. In other words, he would have won. It would appear as though she had altered her views and condoned his unfettered self-directing actions. But no, never should they do this to her! Insulted and triumphed over to the very last; Never! And yet, even as she declared her defiance to herself, there he lay, and even as she gazed on him, there was the sound of footsteps behind her, and as she turned her head, Carr, the butler, approached, a letter in his hand, saying:

  “Madam, this has just been delivered at the door for you.”

  And although at first she gestured as if to wave him away, he had no more than turned his back, when she exclaimed: “Give it to me!” And then, tearing it open, she read:

  Aileen, I am dying. When this reaches you, I will be no more. I know all my sins and all those you charge me with, and I blame only myself. But I cannot forget the Aileen who helped me through my prison days in Philadelphia. Yet it will not help me now, or either of us, to say I am sorry. But somehow, I feel that in the depths of your heart you will forgive me, once I am gone. Also it comforts me to know that you will be taken care of. I have arranged for all that, as you know. So now, good-by, Aileen! No more evil thoughts from your Frank, no more ever!

  A conclusion on his part which caused Aileen to go forward to the casket and take his hands and kiss them. And then, after gazing at him for a moment, she turned and hurried away.

  However, a few hours later, Carr, having been the recipient, through Jamieson and others, of various requests, was compelled to consult with Aileen concerning procedure in connection with the burial. The requests for permission to attend were so numerous that finally Carr was forced to bring forward a list of names, so long a list that it caused Aileen to say:

  “Oh, let them come! What harm can it do now? Let Mr. Jamieson and Mr. Cowperwood’s son and daughter arrange everything as they please. I will keep to my room, as I am not well enough to help in any way.”

  “But, Mrs. Cowperwood, wouldn’t you be willing to have a minister present to pronounce the last rites?” asked Carr, a suggestion that had been made by Dr. James, but which fitted Carr’s religious nature.

  “Oh, yes, let one come. It can do no harm,” said Aileen, as her thoughts wandered back to the extreme religiosity of her parents. “But limit the number of those who are to come here to fifty, no more”—a decision which caused Carr to get in immediate touch with Jamieson and Cowperwood’s son and daughter, in order to inform them that they were to go ahead with such funeral arrangements as they felt appropriate. This news, reaching Dr. James’ ears, caused him to heave a sigh of relief, at the same time that he proceeded to have the many admirers of Cowperwood informed of this fact.

  Chapter 72

  Among the friends of Cowperwood who called at the mansion that same afternoon, and the morning following, those whose names were on Buckner Carr’s list were allowed to enter to view the body now lying in state in the spacious drawing room on the second floor. The others were advised to attend the tombside ceremonial at Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn the following day at 2 p.m.

  In the meantime, Cowperwood’s son and daughter had called on Aileen, and it was arranged that they were to ride with her in the first mourner’s carriage. By that time, however, every New York newspaper was ablaze with the so-called sudden end of Cowperwood, who only six weeks before had arrived in New York. Because of his great number of friends, the articles stated, the funeral services would be attended by intimate friends of the family only: a statement which, however, did not deter many people from going out to the cemetery.

  Accordingly, the next day at noon, the funeral cortege began forming in front of the Cowperwood mansion. Groups of people gathered on the streets outside to observe the spectacle. Following the hearse was the carriage containing Aileen, Frank A. Cowperwood, Jr., and Cowperwood’s daughter, Anna Templeton. And then, one by one, the other carriages moved into line, and proceeded along the highway, under an overcast sky, until finally they passed through the gates to Greenwood Cemetery. The gravel drive gradually mounted a long incline, bordered by heavy trees, behind which ranged stones and monuments of all descriptions. About a quarter of mile in, as the drive continued to rise, a roadway branched off to the right, and a few hundred feet farther on, between great trees, the tomb loomed solemnly high and majestic.

  It stood alone, no other monument being within thirty feet of it, a gray, austere, and northern version of a Greek temple. Four graceful columns of modified Ionic design formed the “porch” and supported a plain triangular pediment, without decoration or religious symbol of any sort. Above the doors of the tomb, in heavy square-cut letters, was his name: FRANK ALGERNON COWPERWOOD. The three graduated platforms of granite were piled high with flowers, and the massive bronze double doors stood wide open, awaiting the arrival of the distinguished occupant. As all must have felt who viewed it for the first time, this was a severely impressive artistic achievement in the matter of design, for its tall and stately serenity seemed to dominate the entire area.

  And as her carriage came into full view of the tomb, Aileen was again and finally impressed by her husband’s power of self-presentation. But even as she thought this, she closed her eyes, as if trying to shut out the sight of the tomb, and seeking to revive her last impression of him as he stood vividly alive and self-assertive before her. Her carriage waited until the hearse had reached the door of the tomb, and the heavy bronze casket was carried up and placed among the flowers, before the minister’s rostrum. Following that, the occupants of the carriages emerged and crossed over to a large marquee tent set up in front of the tomb, under the shelter of which benches and chairs awaited them.

  In one of the carriages Berenice sat silently beside Dr. James, gazing at the tomb that was to seal her beloved away from her forever. Tears she could not cry, and would not. For why seek to oppose an avalanche which had already gone so far as to obliterate the import of life itself, for her? At any rate, such was her mood or reaction to all of this. However, a word that repeated itself over and over in her mind was the word “Endure! Endure! Endure!”

  After all of the friends and relatives had settled themselves, the Episcopal clergyman, Reverend Hayward Crenshaw, came forward and took his place on the rostrum, and in a few moments, when all had become very quiet, he began to speak, his utterances grave and clear:

  “I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.

  “I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and though this body be destroyed, yet shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not as a stranger.

  “We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

  “Behold, thou hast made my days as it were a span long; and mine age is even as nothing in respect of thee; and verily every man living is altogether vanity.

  “For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain: he heapeth up riches, and cannot tell who shall gather them.

  “And now, Lord, what is my hope: truly my hope is even in Thee.

  “When thou with rebukes doth chasten man for sin. Thou makest his beauty to consume away, like as it were a moth fretting a garment: every man therefore is but vanity.

  “Lord, thou has been our refuge from one generation to another.

  �
�Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world were made; Thou art God from everlasting and world without end.

  “Thou turnest man to destruction: again Thou sayest, Come again, ye children of men.

  “For a thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday; when it is past, and as a watch in the night.

  “As soon as thou scatterest them they are even as asleep; and fade away suddenly like the grass.

  “In the morning it is green, and groweth up; but in the evening it is cut down, dried up, and withered.

  “For we consume away in Thy displeasure, and are afraid of Thy wrathful indignation.

  “Thou hast set aside our misdeeds before Thee; and our secret sins in the light of Thy countenance.

  “For when Thou art angry, all our days are gone; we bring our years to an end, as it were a tale that is told.

  “The days of our age are three score years and ten; and though men be so strong that they come to four score years; yet is their strength then but labor and sorrow; so soon passeth it away, and we are gone.

  “O teach us to number our days: that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

  “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

  “As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end, Amen.”

  The casket then lifted by the pallbearers and carried into the tomb and placed in the sarcophagus, while the minister knelt and prayed. Aileen having refused to enter, the other mourners remained with her. And shortly afterward, when the minister came outside, the heavy bronze doors were closed, and the burial services for Frank Algernon Cowperwood were over.

  The clergyman went over to Aileen to offer a few words of comfort; the friends and relatives began to leave, and soon the space about the tomb was empty. However, Dr. James and Berenice lingered a while in the shadow of a large birch tree, and then walked slowly down the slope along a winding path, as Berenice did not wish to leave with the others. Walking down the path some hundred feet, Berenice looked back to see the last resting place of her beloved, as it stood high and proud in anonymity, the name not being visible from where she stood. High and proud, and yet small, under the protective elms grown tall around it.

  Chapter 73

  Because of the troubled state of her mind following the illness and death of Cowperwood, Berenice decided that it would be best for her to remove to her own home on Park Avenue, which had been closed during her absence in England. Now that she was uncertain as to her future, she would use it as a retreat, temporarily, at least, from prying contacts with the local press. Dr. James agreed with her decision, believing that it would be best for him also if he could truthfully say that she had departed and he did not know her present whereabouts: a ruse that subsequently worked very well, for having answered a number of times that he knew nothing more than the newspapers did, the inquiries ceased as far as he was concerned.

  Nonetheless, from time to time there began to appear in print, references, not only to her disappearance, but her possible whereabouts. Had she returned to London? And to make sure of that, the London papers queried whether she had returned to her former residence at Pryor’s Cove: a series of inquiries that brought the unsatisfactory news that although her mother was there, she stated that she knew nothing of her daughter’s plans, and that they would have to wait until she obtained that information herself. This reply was prompted by the receipt of a cable from Berenice requesting her mother to furnish no information until she heard from her.

  While Berenice got some satisfaction out of outwitting the reporters, she found she was quite lonely in her own home, and spent most of her evenings reading. However, she was shocked by a special feature article in one of the New York Sunday papers which dealt entirely with herself and her previous relations with Cowperwood. While she was referred to as his ward, the whole tenor of the article tended to single her out as an opportunist who had used her beauty to further her personal comfort and social pleasures in general: an interpretation and presentation of herself which irritated as well as pained her greatly. For as she saw herself, then and before, she was wholly concerned with the beauty of life, and such creative achievements as tended to broaden and expand its experiences. However, as she now felt, this type of article was likely to be repeated and even reproduced in other papers, abroad as well as in her own country, for it was obvious that she had been singled out as a romantic and dramatic personality.

  What could she do about it? Where go to live to get away from such publicity?

  In her troubled and somewhat confused state of mind, she walked about the library of her home, the shelves of which were crowded with long-neglected volumes, and haphazardly withdrawing one of the books, she opened it casually and her eyes fell on the following words:

  Part of myself is the God within every creature,

  Keeps that nature eternal, yet seems to be separate,

  Putting on mind and senses five, the garment

  Made of Prakriti.

  When the Lord puts on a body, or casts it from Him,

  He enters or departs, taking the mind and senses

  Away with Him, as the wind steals perfume

  Out of the flowers.

  Watching over the ear and the eye, and presiding

  There behind touch, and taste, and smell, He is also

  Within the mind: He enjoys and suffers

  The things of the senses.

  Dwelling in flesh, or departing, or one with the gunas

  Knowing their moods and motions, He is invisible

  Always to the ignorant, but his sages see him

  With the eye of wisdom.

  Yogis who have gained tranquility through the practice of spiritual discipline, behold Him in their own consciousness. But those who lack tranquility and discernment will not find Him, even though they may try hard to do so.

  So arresting were these thoughts that she turned the book over to see the name of it. And noting that it was the Bhagavad-Gita, she remembered a certain Lord Severance’s brilliant discourse on the subject matter at a dinner given one evening by Lord Stane at his town house. She had been deeply impressed by Severence’s vivid account of his sojourn in India, where for a considerable period he had lived the monastic life in a retreat near Bombay and studied with a guru. She recalled how stirred she had been by his impressions, and had wished at the time that she also might one day go to India and do likewise. And now, in the face of her threatened social isolation, she felt even more keenly disposed to seek sanctuary somewhere. Indeed, this might be the solution of her present complicated affairs.

  India! Why not? The more she thought about going there, the more the idea appealed to her.

  According to another book on India which she found on her shelf, there were many swamis, many gurus, or teachers and interpreters of the mysteries of life or God, who had founded for themselves ashramas or retreats in the mountains or forests to which the troubled seekers after the meaning of the marvels or mysteries of life might turn in their hours of grief or failure or dismay, to learn of spiritual resources within themselves, which, if studied and followed, might readily dispel their own ills. Might not such a teacher of these great truths lead her into a realm of light or spiritual peace sufficiently illuminating to dispel the dark hours of loneliness and shadow which might permanently engulf her?

  She would go to India! As she arranged it in her mind, she would sail to Bombay from London after closing Pryor’s Cove, taking her mother with her if she wished to go.

  The next morning she called Dr. James to get his opinion regarding her decision, and when she told him of her plan to study there, much to her surprise, he said he thought it a very good plan indeed. For he himself had long been intrigued by no less an ambition, only he was not as free as Berenice to avail himself of the opportunity. It would be the kind of retreat and change she most needed, he said. In fact, he had a few patients, with physical and mental condition greatly deranged by social and pers
onal difficulties, whom he had sent to a certain Hindu swami in New York, and they had later returned to him completely restored to health. For, as he had noted, there was something about the limited thought of the self that was lost in the larger thought of the not self that brought about forgetfulness of self in the nervous person, and so health.

  And so encouraged was Berenice by his approval of her decision that she made immediate arrangements for the care of her Park Avenue home in her absence, and left New York for London.

  Chapter 74

  To the world in general, the main subject of interest in connection with the death of Frank Algernon Cowperwood was his fortune: its size, who would inherit it, how much they would each receive. Before the will had been admitted to probate, gossip and rumor had it that Aileen was being cut off with a minimum, that Cowperwood’s two children received the bulk of the estate, also that various London favorites had already received huge gifts.

  In less than a week after the death of her husband, Aileen had dismissed his lawyer, and in his place made one Charles Day her sole legal representative.

  The will, admitted for probate in the Cook County Superior Court five weeks after the death of Cowperwood, contained gifts ranging in size from $2,000 left to each of his servants to $50,000 left to Albert Jamieson, and $100,000 to the Frank A. Cowperwood Observatory, an institution presented to the University of Chicago ten years previously. Included among the ten persons or organizations listed were his two children, and the amount of money involved in these specific gifts totalled approximately half of a million dollars.