CHAPTER XXVII

  For three years now Lester had been happy in the companionship ofJennie. Irregular as the connection might be in the eyes of the churchand of society, it had brought him peace and comfort, and he wasperfectly satisfied with the outcome of the experiment. His interestin the social affairs of Cincinnati was now practically nil, and hehad consistently refused to consider any matrimonial proposition whichhad himself as the object. He looked on his father's businessorganization as offering a real chance for himself if he could getcontrol of it; but he saw no way of doing so. Robert's interests werealways in the way, and, if anything, the two brothers were fartherapart than ever in their ideas and aims. Lester had thought once ortwice of entering some other line of business or of allying himselfwith another carriage company, but he did not feel that ha couldconscientiously do this. Lester had his salary--fifteen thousanda year as secretary and treasurer of the company (his brother wasvice-president)--and about five thousand from some outsideinvestments. He had not been so lucky or so shrewd in speculation asRobert had been; aside from the principal which yielded his fivethousand, he had nothing. Robert, on the other hand, wasunquestionably worth between three and four hundred thousand dollars,in addition to his future interest in the business, which bothbrothers shrewdly suspected would be divided somewhat in their favor.Robert and Lester would get a fourth each, they thought; their sistersa sixth. It seemed natural that Kane senior should take this view,seeing that the brothers were actually in control and doing the work.Still, there was no certainty. The old gentleman might do anything ornothing. The probabilities were that he would be very fair andliberal. At the same time, Robert was obviously beating Lester in thegame of life. What did Lester intend to do about it?

  There comes a time in every thinking man's life when he pauses and"takes stock" of his condition; when he asks himself how it fares withhis individuality as a whole, mental, moral, physical, material. Thistime comes after the first heedless flights of youth have passed, whenthe initiative and more powerful efforts have been made, and he beginsto feel the uncertainty of results and final values which attachesitself to everything. There is a deadening thought of uselessnesswhich creeps into many men's minds--the thought which has beenbest expressed by the Preacher in Ecclesiastes.

  Yet Lester strove to be philosophical. "What difference does itmake?" he used to say to himself, "whether I live at the White House,or here at home, or at the Grand Pacific?" But in the very questionwas the implication that there were achievements in life which he hadfailed to realize in his own career. The White House represented therise and success of a great public character. His home and the GrandPacific were what had come to him without effort.

  He decided for the time being--it was about the period of thedeath of Jennie's mother--that he would make some effort torehabilitate himself. He would cut out idling--these numeroustrips with Jennie had cost him considerable time. He would make someoutside investments. If his brother could find avenues of financialprofit, so could he. He would endeavor to assert hisauthority--he would try to make himself of more importance in thebusiness, rather than let Robert gradually absorb everything. Shouldhe forsake Jennie?--that thought also, came to him. She had noclaim on him. She could make no protest. Somehow he did not see how itcould be done. It seemed cruel, useless; above all (though he dislikedto admit it) it would be uncomfortable for himself. He likedher--loved her, perhaps, in a selfish way. He didn't see how hecould desert her very well.

  Just at this time he had a really serious difference with Robert.His brother wanted to sever relations with an old and well establishedpaint company in New York, which had manufactured paints especiallyfor the house, and invest in a new concern in Chicago, which wasgrowing and had a promising future. Lester, knowing the members of theEastern firm, their reliability, their long and friendly relationswith the house, was in opposition. His father at first seemed to agreewith Lester. But Robert argued out the question in his cold, logicalway, his blue eyes fixed uncompromisingly upon his brother's face. "Wecan't go on forever," he said, "standing by old friends, just becausefather here has dealt with them, or you like them. We must have achange. The business must be stiffened up; we're going to have moreand stronger competition."

  "It's just as father feels about it," said Lester at last. "I haveno deep feeling in the matter. It won't hurt me one way or the other.You say the house is going to profit eventually. I've stated thearguments on the other side."

  "I'm inclined to think Robert is right," said Archibald Kanecalmly. "Most of the things he has suggested so far have workedout."

  Lester colored. "Well, we won't have any more discussion about itthen," he said. He rose and strolled out of the office.

  The shock of this defeat, coming at a time when he was consideringpulling himself together, depressed Lester considerably. It wasn'tmuch but it was a straw, and his father's remark about his brother'sbusiness acumen was even more irritating. He was beginning to wonderwhether his father would discriminate in any way in the distributionof the property. Had he heard anything about his entanglement withJennie? Had he resented the long vacations he had taken from business?It did not appear to Lester that he could be justly chargeable witheither incapacity or indifference, so far as the company wasconcerned. He had done his work well. He was still the investigator ofpropositions put up to the house, the student of contracts, thetrusted adviser of his father and mother--but he was beingworsted. Where would it end? He thought about this, but could reach noconclusion.

  Later in this same year Robert came forward with a plan forreorganization in the executive department of the business. Heproposed that they should build an immense exhibition and storagewarehouse on Michigan Avenue in Chicago, and transfer a portion oftheir completed stock there. Chicago was more central than Cincinnati.Buyers from the West and country merchants could be more easilyreached and dealt with there. It would be a big advertisement for thehouse, a magnificent evidence of its standing and prosperity. Kanesenior and Lester immediately approved of this. Both saw itsadvantages. Robert suggested that Lester should undertake theconstruction of the new buildings. It would probably be advisable forhim to reside in Chicago a part of the time.

  The idea appealed to Lester, even though it took him away fromCincinnati, largely if not entirely. It was dignified and notunrepresentative of his standing in the company. He could live inChicago and he could have Jennie with him. The scheme he had fortaking an apartment could now be arranged without difficulty. He votedyes. Robert smiled. "I'm sure we'll get good results from this allaround," he said.

  As construction work was soon to begin, Lester decided to move toChicago immediately. He sent word for Jennie to meet him, and togetherthey selected an apartment on the North Side, a very comfortable suiteof rooms on a side street near the lake, and he had it fitted up tosuit his taste. He figured that living in Chicago he could pose as abachelor. He would never need to invite his friends to his rooms.There were his offices, where he could always be found, his clubs andthe hotels. To his way of thinking the arrangement was practicallyideal.

  Of course Jennie's departure from Cleveland brought the affairs ofthe Gerhardt family to a climax. Probably the home would be broken up,but Gerhardt himself took the matter philosophically. He was an oldman, and it did not matter much where he lived. Bass, Martha, andGeorge were already taking care of themselves. Veronica and Williamwere still in school, but some provision could be made for boardingthem with a neighbor. The one real concern of Jennie and Gerhardt wasVesta. It was Gerhardt's natural thought that Jennie must take thechild with her. What else should a mother do?

  "Have you told him yet?" he asked her, when the day of hercontemplated departure had been set.

  "No; but I'm going to soon," she assured him.

  "Always soon," he said.

  He shook his head. His throat swelled.

  "It's too bad," he went on. "It's a great sin. God will punish you,I'm afraid. The child needs some one. I'm getting old--otherwiseI would keep her.
There is no one here all day now to look after herright, as she should be." Again he shook his head.

  "I know," said Jennie weakly. "I'm going to fix it now. I'm goingto have her live with me soon. I won't neglect her--you knowthat."

  "But the child's name," he insisted. "She should have a name. Soonin another year she goes to school. People will want to know who sheis. It can't go on forever like this."

  Jennie understood well enough that it couldn't. She was crazy abouther baby. The heaviest cross she had to bear was the constantseparations and the silence she was obliged to maintain about Vesta'svery existence. It did seem unfair to the child, and yet Jennie didnot see clearly how she could have acted otherwise. Vesta had goodclothes, everything she needed. She was at least comfortable. Jenniehoped to give her a good education. If only she had told the truth toLester in the first place. Now it was almost too late, and yet shefelt that she had acted for the best. Finally she decided to find somegood woman or family in Chicago who would take charge of Vesta for aconsideration. In a Swedish colony to the west of La Salle Avenue shecame across an old lady who seemed to embody all the virtues sherequired--cleanliness, simplicity, honesty. She was a widow,doing work by the day, but she was glad to make an arrangement bywhich she should give her whole time to Vesta. The latter was to go tokindergarten when a suitable one should be found. She was to have toysand kindly attention, and Mrs. Olsen was to inform Jennie of anychange in the child's health. Jennie proposed to call every day, andshe thought that sometimes, when Lester was out of town, Vesta mightbe brought to the apartment. She had had her with her at Cleveland,and he had never found out anything.

  The arrangements completed, Jennie returned at the firstopportunity to Cleveland to take Vesta away. Gerhardt, who had beenbrooding over his approaching loss, appeared most solicitous about herfuture. "She should grow up to be a fine girl," he said. "You shouldgive her a good education--she is so smart." He spoke of theadvisability of sending her to a Lutheran school and church, butJennie was not so sure of that. Time and association with Lester hadled her to think that perhaps the public school was better than anyprivate institution. She had no particular objection to the church,but she no longer depended upon its teachings as a guide in theaffairs of life. Why should she?

  The next day it was necessary for Jennie to return to Chicago.Vesta, excited and eager, was made ready for the journey. Gerhardt hadbeen wandering about, restless as a lost spirit, while the process ofdressing was going on; now that the hour had actually struck he wasdoing his best to control his feelings. He could see that thefive-year-old child had no conception of what it meant to him. She washappy and self-interested, chattering about the ride and thetrain.

  "Be a good little girl," he said, lifting her up and kissing her."See that you study your catechism and say your prayers. And you won'tforget the grandpa--what?--" He tried to go on, but hisvoice failed him.

  Jennie, whose heart ached for her father, choked back her emotion."There," she said, "if I'd thought you were going to act likethat--" She stopped.

  "Go," said Gerhardt, manfully, "go. It is best this way." And hestood solemnly by as they went out of the door. Then he turned back tohis favorite haunt, the kitchen, and stood there staring at the floor.One by one they were leaving him--Mrs. Gerhardt, Bass, Martha,Jennie, Vesta. He clasped his hands together, after his old-timefashion, and shook his head again and again. "So it is! So it is!" herepeated. "They all leave me. All my life goes to pieces."

 
Theodore Dreiser's Novels