CHAPTER LV
The social and business worlds of Chicago, Cincinnati, Cleveland,and other cities saw, during the year or two which followed thebreaking of his relationship with Jennie, a curious rejuvenation inthe social and business spirit of Lester Kane. He had become ratherdistant and indifferent to certain personages and affairs while he wasliving with her, but now he suddenly appeared again, armed withauthority from a number of sources, looking into this and that matterwith the air of one who has the privilege of power, and showinghimself to be quite a personage from the point of view of finance andcommerce. He was older of course. It must be admitted that he was insome respects a mentally altered Lester. Up to the time he had metJennie he was full of the assurance of the man who has never knowndefeat. To have been reared in luxury as he had been, to have seenonly the pleasant side of society, which is so persistent and sodeluding where money is concerned, to have been in the run of bigaffairs not because one has created them, but because one is a part ofthem and because they are one's birthright, like the air one breathes,could not help but create one of those illusions of solidarity whichis apt to befog the clearest brain. It is so hard for us to know whatwe have not seen. It is so difficult for us to feel what we have notexperienced. Like this world of ours, which seems so solid andpersistent solely because we have no knowledge of the power whichcreates it, Lester's world seemed solid and persistent and real enoughto him. It was only when the storms set in and the winds of adversityblew and he found himself facing the armed forces of convention thathe realized he might be mistaken as to the value of his personality,that his private desires and opinions were as nothing in the face of apublic conviction; that he was wrong. The race spirit, or socialavatar, the "Zeitgeist" as the Germans term it, manifested itself assomething having a system in charge, and the organization of societybegan to show itself to him as something based on possibly aspiritual, or, at least, superhuman counterpart. He could not fly inthe face of it. He could not deliberately ignore its mandates. Thepeople of his time believed that some particular form of socialarrangement was necessary, and unless he complied with that he could,as he saw, readily become a social outcast. His own father and motherhad turned on him--his brother and sisters, society, his friends.Dear heaven, what a to-do this action of his had created! Why, eventhe fates seemed adverse. His real estate venture was one of the mostfortuitously unlucky things he had ever heard of. Why? Were the godsbattling on the side of a to him unimportant social arrangement?Apparently. Anyhow, he had been compelled to quit, and here he was,vigorous, determined, somewhat battered by the experience, but stillforceful and worth while.
And it was a part of the penalty that he had become measurablysoured by what had occurred. He was feeling that he had been compelledto do the first ugly, brutal thing of his life. Jennie deserved betterof him. It was a shame to forsake her after all the devotion she hadmanifested. Truly she had played a finer part than he. Worst of all,his deed could not be excused on the grounds of necessity. He couldhave lived on ten thousand a year; he could have done without themillion and more which was now his. He could have done without thesociety, the pleasures of which had always been a lure. He could have,but he had not, and he had complicated it all with the thought ofanother woman.
Was she as good as Jennie? That was a question which always rosebefore him. Was she as kindly? Wasn't she deliberately scheming underhis very eyes to win him away from the woman who was as good as hiswife? Was that admirable? Was it the thing a truly big woman would do?Was she good enough for him after all? Ought he to marry her? Ought heto marry any one seeing that he really owed a spiritual if not a legalallegiance to Jennie? Was it worth while for any woman to marry him?These things turned in his brain. They haunted him. He could not shutout the fact that he was doing a cruel and unlovely thing.
Material error in the first place was now being complicated withspiritual error. He was attempting to right the first by committingthe second. Could it be done to his own satisfaction? Would itpay mentally and spiritually? Would it bring him peace of mind? He wasthinking, thinking, all the while he was readjusting his life to theold (or perhaps better yet, new) conditions, and he was not feelingany happier. As a matter of fact he was feeling worse--grim,revengeful. If he married Letty he thought at times it would be to useher fortune as a club to knock other enemies over the head, and hehated to think he was marrying her for that. He took up his abode atthe Auditorium, visited Cincinnati in a distant and aggressive spirit,sat in council with the board of directors, wishing that he was moreat peace with himself, more interested in life. But he did not changehis policy in regard to Jennie.
Of course Mrs. Gerald had been vitally interested in Lester'srehabilitation. She waited tactfully some little time before sendinghim any word; finally she ventured to write to him at the Hyde Parkaddress (as if she did not know where he was), asking, "Where areyou?" By this time Lester had become slightly accustomed to the changein his life. He was saying to himself that he needed sympatheticcompanionship, the companionship of a woman, of course. Socialinvitations had begun to come to him now that he was alone and thathis financial connections were so obviously restored. He had made hisappearance, accompanied only by a Japanese valet, at several countryhouses, the best sign that he was once more a single man. No referencewas made by any one to the past.
On receiving Mrs. Gerald's note he decided that he ought to go andsee her. He had treated her rather shabbily. For months preceding hisseparation from Jennie he had not gone near her. Even now he waiteduntil time brought a 'phoned invitation to dinner. This heaccepted.
Mrs. Gerald was at her best as a hostess at her perfectly appointeddinner-table. Alboni, the pianist, was there on this occasion,together with Adam Rascavage, the sculptor, a visiting scientist fromEngland, Sir Nelson Keyes, and, curiously enough, Mr. and Mrs. BerryDodge, whom Lester had not met socially in several years. Mrs. Geraldand Lester exchanged the joyful greetings of those who understand eachother thoroughly and are happy in each other's company. "Aren't youashamed of yourself, sir," she said to him when he made hisappearance, "to treat me so indifferently? You are going to bepunished for this."
"What's the damage?" he smiled. "I've been extremely rushed. Isuppose something like ninety stripes will serve me about right."
"Ninety stripes, indeed!" she retorted. "You're letting yourselfoff easy. What is it they do to evil-doers in Siam?"
"Boil them in oil, I suppose."
"Well, anyhow, that's more like. I'm thinking of somethingterrible."
"Be sure and tell me when you decide," he laughed, and passed on tobe presented to distinguished strangers by Mrs. De Lincum who aidedMrs. Gerald in receiving.
The talk was stimulating. Lester was always at his easeintellectually, and this mental atmosphere revived him. Presently heturned to greet Berry Dodge, who was standing at his elbow.
Dodge was all cordiality. "Where are you now?" he asked. "Wehaven't seen you in--oh, when? Mrs. Dodge is waiting to have aword with you." Lester noticed the change in Dodge's attitude.
"Some time, that's sure," he replied easily. "I'm living at theAuditorium."
"I was asking after you the other day. You know Jackson Du Bois? Ofcourse you do. We were thinking of running up into Canada for somehunting. Why don't you join us?"
"I can't," replied Lester. "Too many things on hand just now.Later, surely."
Dodge was anxious to continue. He had seen Lester's election as adirector of the C. H. & D. Obviously he was coming back into theworld. But dinner was announced and Lester sat at Mrs. Gerald's righthand.
"Aren't you coming to pay me a dinner call some afternoon afterthis?" asked Mrs. Gerald confidentially when the conversation wasbrisk at the other end of the table.
"I am, indeed," he replied, "and shortly. Seriously, I've beenwanting to look you up. You understand though how things are now?"
"I do. I've heard a great deal. That's why I want you to come. Weneed to talk together."
Ten days later he did call. He felt
as if he must talk with her; hewas feeling bored and lonely; his long home life with Jennie had madehotel life objectionable. He felt as though he must find asympathetic, intelligent ear, and where better than here? Letty wasall ears for his troubles. She would have pillowed his solid head uponher breast in a moment if that had been possible.
"Well," he said, when the usual fencing preliminaries were over,"what will you have me say in explanation?"
"Have you burned your bridges behind you?" she asked.
"I'm not so sure," he replied gravely. "And I can't say that I'mfeeling any too joyous about the matter as a whole."
"I thought as much," she replied. "I knew how it would be with you.I can see you wading through this mentally, Lester. I have beenwatching you, every step of the way, wishing you peace of mind. Thesethings are always so difficult, but don't you know I am still sureit's for the best. It never was right the other way. It never couldbe. You couldn't afford to sink back into a mere shell-fish life. Youare not organized temperamentally for that any more than I am. You mayregret what you are doing now, but you would have regretted the otherthing quite as much and more. You couldn't work your life out thatway--now, could you?"
"I don't know about that, Letty. Really, I don't. I've wanted tocome and see you for a long time, but I didn't think that I ought to.The fight was outside--you know what I mean."
"Yes, indeed, I do," she said soothingly.
"It's still inside. I haven't gotten over it. I don't know whetherthis financial business binds me sufficiently or not. I'll be frankand tell you that I can't say I love her entirely; but I'm sorry, andthat's something."
"She's comfortably provided for, of course," she commented ratherthan inquired.
"Everything she wants. Jennie is of a peculiar disposition. Shedoesn't want much. She's retiring by nature and doesn't care for show.I've taken a cottage for her at Sandwood, a little place north of hereon the lake; and there's plenty of money in trust, but, of course, sheknows she can live anywhere she pleases."
"I understand exactly how she feels, Lester. I know how you feel.She is going to suffer very keenly for a while--we all do when wehave to give up the thing we love. But we can get over it, and we do.At least, we can live. She will. It will go hard at first, but after awhile she will see how it is, and she won't feel any the worse towardyou."
"Jennie will never reproach me, I know that," he replied. "I'm theone who will do the reproaching. I'll be abusing myself for some time.The trouble is with my particular turn of mind. I can't tell, for thelife of me, how much of this disturbing feeling of mine ishabit--the condition that I'm accustomed to--and how much issympathy. I sometimes think I'm the the most pointless individual inthe world. I think too much."
"Poor Lester!" she said tenderly. "Well, I understand for one.You're lonely living where you are, aren't you?"
"I am that," he replied.
"Why not come and spend a few days down at West Baden? I'm goingthere."
"When?" he inquired.
"Next Tuesday."
"Let me see," he replied. "I'm not sure that I can." He consultedhis notebook. "I could come Thursday, for a few days."
"Why not do that? You need company. We can walk and talk things outdown there. Will you?"
"Yes, I will," he replied.
She came toward him, trailing a lavender lounging robe. "You'resuch a solemn philosopher, sir," she observed comfortably, "workingthrough all the ramifications of things. Why do you? You were alwayslike that."
"I can't help it," he replied. "It's my nature to think."
"Well, one thing I know--" and she tweaked his ear gently."You're not going to make another mistake through sympathy if I canhelp it," she said daringly. "You're going to stay disentangled longenough to give yourself a chance to think out what you want to do. Youmust. And I wish for one thing you'd take over the management of myaffairs. You could advise me so much better than my lawyer."
He arose and walked to the window, turning to look back at hersolemnly. "I know what you want," he said doggedly.
"And why shouldn't I?" she demanded, again approaching him. Shelooked at him pleadingly, defiantly. "Yes, why shouldn't I?"
"You don't know what you're doing," he grumbled; but he kept onlooking at her; she stood there, attractive as a woman of her agecould be, wise, considerate, full of friendship and affection.
"Letty," he said. "You ought not to want to marry me. I'm not worthit. Really I'm not. I'm too cynical. Too indifferent. It won't beworth anything in the long run."
"It will be worth something to me," she insisted. "I know what youare. Anyhow, I don't care. I want you!"
He took her hands, then her arms. Finally he drew her to him, andput his arms about her waist. "Poor Letty!" he said; "I'm not worthit. You'll be sorry."
"No, I'll not," she replied. "I know what I'm doing. I don't carewhat you think you are worth." She laid her cheek on his shoulder. "Iwant you."
"If you keep on I venture to say you'll have me," he returned. Hebent and kissed her.
"Oh," she exclaimed, and hid her hot face against his breast.
"This is bad business," he thought, even as he held her within thecircle of his arms. "It isn't what I ought to be doing."
Still he held her, and now when she offered her lips coaxingly hekissed her again and again.
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