Jennie Gerhardt - Драйзер Теодор (книги бесплатно без онлайн .txt) 📗

time had already made. Robert was the clean, decisive man, Lester the

man of doubts. Robert was the spirit of business energy and integrity

embodied, Lester the spirit of commercial self-sufficiency, looking at life with an uncertain eye. Together they made a striking picture, which was

none the less powerful for the thoughts that were now running through

their minds.

"Well," said the older brother, after a time, "I don't suppose there is anything more I can say. I had hoped to make you feel just as we do about this thing, but of course you are your own best judge of this. If you don't see it now, nothing I could say would make you. It strikes me as a very

bad move on your part though."

Lester listened. He said nothing, but his face expressed an unchanged

purpose.

Robert turned for his hat, and they walked to the office door together.

"I'll put the best face I can on it," said Robert, and walked out.

CHAPTER XXXIV

In this world of ours the activities of animal life seem to be limited to a plane or circle, as if that were an inherent necessity to the creatures of a planet which is perforce compelled to swing about the sun. A fish, for

instance, may not pass out of the circle of the seas without courting

annihilation; a bird may not enter the domain of the fishes without paying for it dearly. From the parasites of the flowers to the monsters of the

jungle and the deep we see clearly the circumscribed nature of their

movements— the emphatic manner in which life has limited them to a

sphere; and we are content to note the ludicrous and invariably fatal

results which attend any effort on their part to depart from their

environment.

In the case of man, however, the operation of this theory of limitations

has not as yet been so clearly observed. The laws governing our social

life are not so clearly understood as to permit of a clear generalisation.

Still, the opinions, pleas, and judgments of society serve as boundaries

which are none the less real for being intangible. When men or women

err—that is, pass out from the sphere in which they are accustomed to

move—it is not as if the bird had intruded itself into the water, or the wild animal into the haunts of man. Annihilation is not the immediate result.

People may do no more than elevate their eyebrows in astonishment,

laugh sarcastically, lift up their hands in protest. And yet so well defined is the sphere of social activity that he who departs from it is doomed.

Born and bred in this environment, the individual is practically unfitted for any other state. He is like a bird accustomed to a certain density of atmosphere, and which cannot live comfortably at either higher or lower

level.

Lester sat down in his easy-chair by the window after his brother had

gone and gazed ruminatively out over the flourishing city. Yonder was

spread out before him, life with its concomitant phases of energy, hope,

prosperity, and pleasure, and here he was suddenly struck by a wind of

misfortune and blown aside for the time being— his prospects and

purposes dissipated. Could he continue as cheerily in the paths he had

hitherto pursued? Would not his relations with Jennie be necessarily

affected by this sudden tide of opposition? Was not his own home now a

thing of the past so far as his old easy-going relationship was concerned?

All the atmosphere of unstained affection would be gone out of it now.

That hearty look of approval which used to dwell in his father's eye—

would it be there any longer? Robert, his relations with the manufactory, everything that was a part of his old life, had been affected by this sudden intrusion of Louise.

"It's unfortunate," was all that he thought to himself, and therewith turned from what he considered senseless brooding to the consideration of what,

if anything, was to be done.

"I'm thinking I'd take a run up to Mt. Clemens to-morrow, or Thursday anyhow, if I feel strong enough," he said to Jennie after he had returned.

"I'm not feeling as well as I might. A few days will do me good." He wanted to get off by himself and think. Jennie packed his bag for him at

the given time, and he departed, but he was in a sullen, meditative mood.

During the week that followed he had ample time to think it all over, the result of his cogitations being that there was no need of making a decisive move at present. A few weeks more, one way or the other, could not make

any practical difference. Neither Robert nor any other member of the

family was at all likely to seek another conference with him. His business relations would necessarily go on as usual, since they were coupled with

the welfare of the manufactory; certainly no attempt to coerce him would

be attempted. But the consciousness that he was at hopeless variance with his family weighed upon him. "Bad business," he meditated—"bad business." But he did not change.

For the period of a whole year this unsatisfactory state of affairs

continued. Lester did not go home for six months; then an important

business conference demanding his presence, he appeared and carried it

off quite as though nothing important had happened. His mother kissed

him affectionately, if a little sadly; his father gave him his customary

greeting, a hearty handshake; Robert, Louise, Amy, Imogene, concertedly,

though without any verbal understanding, agreed to ignore the one real

issue. But the feeling of estrangement was there, and it persisted.

Hereafter his visits to Cincinnati were as few and far between as he could possibly make them.

CHAPTER XXXV

In the meantime Jennie had been going through a moral crisis of her

own. For the first time in her life, aside from the family attitude, which had afflicted her greatly, she realised what the world thought of her. She was bad—she knew that. She had yielded on two occasions to the force of

circumstances which might have been fought out differently. If only she

had had more courage! If she did not always have this haunting sense of

fear! If she could only make up her mind to do the right thing! Lester

would never marry her. Why should he? She loved him, but she could

leave him, and it would be better for him. Probably her father would live with her if she went back to Cleveland. He would honour her for at last

taking a decent stand. Yet the thought of leaving Lester was a terrible one to her—he had been so good. As for her father, she was not sure whether

he would receive her or not.

After the tragic visit of Louise she began to think of saving a little money, laying it aside as best she could from her allowance. Lester was generous and she had been able to send home regularly fifteen dollars a week to

maintain the family—as much as they had lived on before, without any

help from the outside. She spent twenty dollars to maintain the table, for Lester required the best of everything—fruit, meats, desserts, liquors, and what not. The rent was fifty-five dollars, with clothes and extras a varying sum. Lester gave her fifty dollars a week, but somehow it had all gone.

She thought how she might economise but this seemed wrong. Better go

without taking anything, if she were going, was the thought that came to

her. It was the only decent thing to do.

She thought over this week after week, after the advent of Louise, trying to nerve herself to the point where she could speak or act. Lester was

consistently generous and kind, but she felt at times that he himself might wish it. He was thoughtful, abstracted. Since the scene with Louise it