Jennie Gerhardt: A Novel

by Theodore Dreiser

  CHAPTER LX

  The drift of events for a period of five years carried Lester andJennie still farther apart; they settled naturally into theirrespective spheres, without the renewal of the old time relationshipwhich their several meetings at the Tremont at first seemed toforeshadow. Lester was in the thick of social and commercial affairs;he walked in paths to which Jennie's retiring soul had never aspired.Jennie's own existence was quiet and uneventful. There was a simplecottage in a very respectable but not showy neighborhood near JacksonPark, on the South Side, where she lived in retirement with a littlefoster-child--a chestnut-haired girl taken from the Western Homefor the Friendless--as her sole companion. Here she was known asMrs. J. G. Stover, for she had deemed it best to abandon the name ofKane. Mr. and Mrs. Lester Kane when resident in Chicago were theoccupants of a handsome mansion on the Lake Shore Drive, whereparties, balls, receptions, dinners were given in rapid and at timesalmost pyrotechnic succession.

  Lester, however, had become in his way a lover of a peaceful andwell-entertained existence. He had cut from his list of acquaintancesand associates a number of people who had been a little doubtful oroverfamiliar or indifferent or talkative during a certain period whichto him was a memory merely. He was a director, and in several casesthe chairman of a board of directors, in nine of the most importantfinancial and commercial organizations of the West--The UnitedTraction Company of Cincinnati, The Western Crucible Company, TheUnited Carriage Company, The Second National Bank of Chicago, theFirst National Bank of Cincinnati, and several others of equalimportance. He was never a personal factor in the affairs of TheUnited Carriage Company, preferring to be represented bycounsel--Mr. Dwight L. Watson, but he took a keen interest in itsaffairs. He had not seen his brother Robert to speak to him in sevenyears. He had not seen Imogene, who lived in Chicago, in three.Louise, Amy, their husbands, and some of their closest acquaintanceswere practically strangers. The firm of Knight, Keatley & O'Brienhad nothing whatever to do with his affairs.

  The truth was that Lester, in addition to becoming a littlephlegmatic, was becoming decidedly critical in his outlook on life. Hecould not make out what it was all about. In distant ages a queerthing had come to pass. There had started on its way in the form ofevolution a minute cellular organism which had apparently reproduceditself by division, had early learned to combine itself with others,to organize itself into bodies, strange forms of fish, animals, andbirds, and had finally learned to organize itself into man. Man, onhis part, composed as he was of self-organizing cells, was pushinghimself forward into comfort and different aspects of existence bymeans of union and organization with other men. Why? Heaven only knew.Here he was endowed with a peculiar brain and a certain amount oftalent, and he had inherited a certain amount of wealth which he nowscarcely believed he deserved, only luck had favored him. But he couldnot see that any one else might be said to deserve this wealth anymore than himself, seeing that his use of it was as conservative andconstructive and practical as the next one's. He might have been bornpoor, in which case he would have been as well satisfied as the nextone--not more so. Why should he complain, why worry, whyspeculate?--the world was going steadily forward of its ownvolition, whether he would or no. Truly it was. And was there any needfor him to disturb himself about it? There was not. He fancied attimes that it might as well never have been started at all. "The onedivine, far-off event" of the poet did not appeal to him as having anybasis in fact. Mrs. Lester Kane was of very much the same opinion.

  Jennie, living on the South Side with her adopted child, RosePerpetua, was of no fixed conclusion as to the meaning of life. Shehad not the incisive reasoning capacity of either Mr. or Mrs. LesterKane. She had seen a great deal, suffered a great deal, and had readsome in a desultory way. Her mind had never grasped the nature andcharacter of specialized knowledge. History, physics, chemistry,botany, geology, and sociology were not fixed departments in her brainas they were in Lester's and Letty's. Instead there was the feelingthat the world moved in some strange, unstable way. Apparently no oneknew clearly what it was all about. People were born and died. Somebelieved that the world had been made six thousand years before; somethat it was millions of years old. Was it all blind chance, or wasthere some guiding intelligence--a God? Almost in spite ofherself she felt there must be something--a higher power whichproduced all the beautiful things--the flowers, the stars, thetrees, the grass. Nature was so beautiful! If at times life seemedcruel, yet this beauty still persisted. The thought comforted her; shefed upon it in her hours of secret loneliness.

  It has been said that Jennie was naturally of an industrious turn.She liked to be employed, though she thought constantly as she worked.She was of matronly proportions in these days--not disagreeablylarge, but full bodied, shapely, and smooth-faced in spite of hercares. Her eyes were gray and appealing. Her hair was still of a richbrown, but there were traces of gray in it. Her neighbors spoke of heras sweet-tempered, kindly, and hospitable. They knew nothing of herhistory, except that she had formerly resided in Sandwood, and beforethat in Cleveland. She was very reticent as to her past.

  Jennie had fancied, because of her natural aptitude for taking careof sick people, that she might get to be a trained nurse. But she wasobliged to abandon that idea, for she found that only young peoplewere wanted. She also thought that some charitable organization mightemploy her, but she did not understand the new theory of charity whichwas then coming into general acceptance and practice--namely,only to help others to help themselves. She believed in giving, andwas not inclined to look too closely into the credentials of those whoasked for help; consequently her timid inquiry at one relief agencyafter another met with indifference, if not unqualified rebuke. Shefinally decided to adopt another child for Rose Perpetua's sake; shesucceeded in securing a boy, four years old, who was known asHenry--Henry Stover. Her support was assured, for her income waspaid to her through a trust company. She had no desire for speculationor for the devious ways of trade. The care of flowers, the nature ofchildren, the ordering of a home were more in her province.

  One of the interesting things in connection with this separationonce it had been firmly established related to Robert and Lester, forthese two since the reading of the will a number of years before hadnever met. Robert had thought of his brother often. He had followedhis success since he had left Jennie with interest. He read of hismarriage to Mrs. Gerald with pleasure; he had always considered her anideal companion for his brother. He knew by many signs and tokens thathis brother, since the unfortunate termination of their father'sattitude and his own peculiar movements to gain control of the KaneCompany, did not like him. Still they had never been so far apartmentally--certainly not in commercial judgment. Lester wasprosperous now. He could afford to be generous. He could afford tomake up. And after all, he had done his best to aid his brother tocome to his senses--and with the best intentions. There weremutual interests they could share financially if they were friends. Hewondered from time to time if Lester would not be friendly withhim.

  Time passed, and then once, when he was in Chicago, he made thefriends with whom he was driving purposely turn into the North Shorein order to see the splendid mansion which the Kanes occupied. He knewits location from hearsay and description.

  When he saw it a touch of the old Kane home atmosphere came back tohim. Lester in revising the property after purchase had had aconservatory built on one side not unlike the one at home inCincinnati. That same night he sat down and wrote Lester asking if hewould not like to dine with him at the Union Club. He was only in townfor a day or two, and he would like to see him again. There was somefeeling he knew, but there was a proposition he would like to talk tohim about. Would he come, say, on Thursday?

  On the receipt of this letter Lester frowned and fell into a brownstudy. He had never really been healed of the wound that his fatherhad given him. He had never been comfortable in his mind since Roberthad deserted him so summarily. He realized now that the stakes hisbrother had been playing for were big. Bu
t, after all, he had been hisbrother, and if he had been in Robert's place at the time, he wouldnot have done as he had done; at least he hoped not. Now Robert wantedto see him.

  He thought once of not answering at all. Then he thought he wouldwrite and say no. But a curious desire to see Robert again, to hearwhat he had to say, to listen to the proposition he had to offer, cameover him; he decided to write yes. It could do no harm. He knew itcould do no good. They might agree to let by-gones be by-gones, butthe damage had been done. Could a broken bowl be mended and calledwhole? It might be called whole, but what of it? Was it notbroken and mended? He wrote and intimated that he would come.

  On the Thursday in question Robert called up from the Auditorium toremind him of the engagement. Lester listened curiously to the soundof his voice. "All right," he said, "I'll be with you." At noon hewent down-town, and there, within the exclusive precincts of the UnionClub, the two brothers met and looked at each other again. Robert wasthinner than when Lester had seen him last, and a little grayer. Hiseyes were bright and steely, but there were crow's-feet on eitherside. His manner was quick, keen, dynamic. Lester was noticeably ofanother type--solid, brusque, and indifferent. Men spoke ofLester these days as a little hard. Robert's keen blue eyes did notdisturb him in the least--did not affect him in any way. He sawhis brother just as he was, for he had the larger philosophic andinterpretative insight; but Robert could not place Lester exactly. Hecould not fathom just what had happened to him in these years. Lesterwas stouter, not gray, for some reason, but sandy and ruddy, lookinglike a man who was fairly well satisfied to take life as he found it.Lester looked at his brother with a keen, steady eye. The lattershifted a little, for he was restless. He could see that there was noloss of that mental force and courage which had always beenpredominant characteristics in Lester's make-up.

  "I thought I'd like to see you again, Lester," Robert remarked,after they had clasped hands in the customary grip. "It's been a longtime now--nearly eight years, hasn't it?"

  "About that," replied Lester. "How are things with you?"

  "Oh, about the same. You've been fairly well, I see."

  "Never sick," said Lester. "A little cold now and then. I don'toften go to bed with anything. How's your wife?"

  "Oh, Margaret's fine."

  "And the children?"

  "We don't see much of Ralph and Berenice since they married, butthe others are around more or less. I suppose your wife is all right,"he said hesitatingly. It was difficult ground for Robert.

  Lester eyed him without a change of expression.

  "Yes," he replied. "She enjoys pretty fair health. She's quite wellat present."

  They drifted mentally for a few moments, while Lester inquiredafter the business, and Amy, Louise, and Imogene. He admitted franklythat he neither saw nor heard from them nowadays. Robert told him whathe could.

  "The thing that I was thinking of in connection with you, Lester,"said Robert finally, "is this matter of the Western Crucible SteelCompany. You haven't been sitting there as a director in person Inotice, but your attorney, Watson, has been acting for you. Cleverman, that. The management isn't right--we all know that. We needa practical steel man at the head of it, if the thing is ever going topay properly. I have voted my stock with yours right along because thepropositions made by Watson have been right. He agrees with me thatthings ought to be changed. Now I have a chance to buy seventy sharesheld by Rossiter's widow. That with yours and mine would give uscontrol of the company. I would like to have you take them, though itdoesn't make a bit of difference so long as it's in the family. Youcan put any one you please in for president, and we'll make the thingcome out right."

  Lester smiled. It was a pleasant proposition. Watson had told himthat Robert's interests were co-operating with him. Lester had longsuspected that Robert would like to make up. This was the olivebranch--the control of a property worth in the neighborhood of amillion and a half.

  "That's very nice of you," said Lester solemnly. "It's a ratherliberal thing to do. What makes you want to do it now?"

  "Well, to tell you the honest truth, Lester," replied Robert, "Inever did feel right about that will business. I never did feel rightabout that secretary-treasurership and some other things that havehappened. I don't want to rake up the past--you smile atthat--but I can't help telling you how I feel. I've been prettyambitious in the past. I was pretty ambitious just about the time thatfather died to get this United Carriage scheme under way, and I wasafraid you might not like it. I have thought since that I ought not tohave done it, but I did. I suppose you're not anxious to hear any moreabout that old affair. This other thing though--"

  "Might be handed out as a sort of compensation," put in Lesterquietly.

  "Not exactly that, Lester--though it may have something ofthat in it. I know these things don't matter very much to you now. Iknow that the time to do things was years ago--not now. Still Ithought sincerely that you might be interested in this proposition. Itmight lead to other things. Frankly, I thought it might patch upmatters between us. We're brothers after all."

  "Yes," said Lester, "we're brothers."

  He was thinking as he said this of the irony of the situation. Howmuch had this sense of brotherhood been worth in the past? Robert hadpractically forced him into his present relationship, and while Jenniehad been really the only one to suffer, he could not help feelingangry. It was true that Robert had not cut him out of his one-fourthof his father's estate, but certainly he had not helped him to get it,and now Robert was thinking that this offer of his might mend things.It hurt him--Lester--a little. It irritated him. Life wasstrange.

  "I can't see it, Robert," he said finally and determinedly. "I canappreciate the motive that prompts you to make this offer. But I can'tsee the wisdom of my taking it. Your opportunity is your opportunity.I don't want it. We can make all the changes you suggest if you takethe stock. I'm rich enough anyhow. Bygones are bygones. I'm perfectlywilling to talk with you from time to time. That's all you want. Thisother thing is simply a sop with which to plaster an old wound. Youwant my friendship and so far as I'm concerned you have that. I don'thold any grudge against you. I won't."

  Robert looked at him fixedly. He half smiled. He admired Lester inspite of all that he had done to him--in spite of all that Lesterwas doing to him now.

  "I don't know but what you're right, Lester," he admitted finally."I didn't make this offer in any petty spirit though. I wanted topatch up this matter of feeling between us. I won't say anything moreabout it. You're not coming down to Cincinnati soon, are you?"

  "I don't expect to," replied Lester.

  "If you do I'd like to have you come and stay with us. Bring yourwife. We could talk over old times."

  Lester smiled an enigmatic smile.

  "I'll be glad to," he said, without emotion. But he remembered thatin the days of Jennie it was different. They would never have recededfrom their position regarding her. "Well," he thought, "perhaps Ican't blame them. Let it go."

  They talked on about other things. Finally Lester remembered anappointment. "I'll have to leave you soon," he said, looking at hiswatch.

  "I ought to go, too," said Robert. They rose. "Well, anyhow," headded, as they walked toward the cloakroom, "we won't be absolutestrangers in the future, will we?"

  "Certainly not," said Lester. "I'll see you from time to time."They shook hands and separated amicably. There was a sense ofunsatisfied obligation and some remorse in Robert's mind as he saw hisbrother walking briskly away. Lester was an able man. Why was it thatthere was so much feeling between them--had been even beforeJennie had appeared? Then he remembered his old thoughts about "snakydeeds." That was what his brother lacked, and that only. He was notcrafty; not darkly cruel, hence. "What a world!" he thought.

  On his part Lester went away feeling a slight sense of oppositionto, but also of sympathy for, his brother. He was not so terriblybad--not different from other men. Why criticize? What would hehave done if he had been in Robert's place? Robert was g
etting along.So was he. He could see now how it all came about--why he hadbeen made the victim, why his brother had been made the keeper of thegreat fortune. "It's the way the world runs," he thought. "Whatdifference does it make? I have enough to live on. Why not let it goat that?"