Jennie Gerhardt: A Novel

by Theodore Dreiser

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  During the three years in which Jennie and Lester had beenassociated there had grown up between them a strong feeling of mutualsympathy and understanding. Lester truly loved her in his own way. Itwas a strong, self-satisfying, determined kind of way, based solidlyon a big natural foundation, but rising to a plane of genuinespiritual affinity. The yielding sweetness of her character bothattracted and held him. She was true, and good, and womanly to thevery center of her being; he had learned to trust her, to depend uponher, and the feeling had but deepened with the passing of theyears.

  On her part Jennie had sincerely, deeply, truly learned to lovethis man. At first when he had swept her off her feet, overawed hersoul, and used her necessity as a chain wherewith to bind her to him,she was a little doubtful, a little afraid of him, although she hadalways liked him. Now, however, by living with him, by knowing himbetter, by watching his moods, she had come to love him. He was sobig, so vocal, so handsome. His point of view and opinions of anythingand everything were so positive. His pet motto, "Hew to the line, letthe chips fall where they may," had clung in her brain as somethingimmensely characteristic. Apparently he was not afraid ofanything--God, man, or devil. He used to look at her, holding herchin between the thumb and fingers of his big brown hand, and say:"You're sweet, all right, but you need courage and defiance. Youhaven't enough of those things." And her eyes would meet his in dumbappeal. "Never mind," he would add, "you have other things." And thenhe would kiss her.

  One of the most appealing things to Lester was the simple way inwhich she tried to avoid exposure of her various social andeducational shortcomings. She could not write very well, and once hefound a list of words he had used written out on a piece of paper withthe meanings opposite. He smiled, but he liked her better for it.Another time in the Southern hotel in St. Louis he watched herpretending a loss of appetite because she thought that her lack oftable manners was being observed by nearby diners. She could notalways be sure of the right forks and knives, and the strange-lookingdishes bothered her; how did one eat asparagus and artichokes?

  "Why don't you eat something?" he asked good-naturedly. "You'rehungry, aren't you?"

  "Not very."

  "You must be. Listen, Jennie. I know what it is. You mustn't feelthat way. Your manners are all right. I wouldn't bring you here ifthey weren't. Your instincts are all right. Don't be uneasy. I'd tellyou quick enough when there was anything wrong." His brown eyes held afriendly gleam.

  She smiled gratefully. "I do feel a little nervous at times," sheadmitted.

  "Don't," he repeated. "You're all right. Don't worry. I'll showyou." And he did.

  By degrees Jennie grew into an understanding of the usages andcustoms of comfortable existence. All that the Gerhardt family hadever had were the bare necessities of life. Now she was surroundedwith whatever she wanted--trunks, clothes, toilet articles, thewhole varied equipment of comfort--and while she liked it all, itdid not upset her sense of proportion and her sense of the fitness ofthings. There was no element of vanity in her, only a sense of joy inprivilege and opportunity. She was grateful to Lester for all that hehad done and was doing for her. If only she could holdhim--always!

  The details of getting Vesta established once adjusted, Jenniesettled down into the routine of home life. Lester, busy about hismultitudinous affairs, was in and out. He had a suite of roomsreserved for himself at the Grand Pacific, which was then theexclusive hotel of Chicago, and this was his ostensible residence. Hisluncheon and evening appointments were kept at the Union Club. Anearly patron of the telephone, he had one installed in the apartment,so that he could reach Jennie quickly and at any time. He was home twoor three nights a week, sometimes oftener. He insisted at first onJennie having a girl of general housework, but acquiesced in the moresensible arrangement which she suggested later of letting some onecome in to do the cleaning. She liked to work around her own home. Hernatural industry and love of order prompted this feeling.

  Lester liked his breakfast promptly at eight in the morning. Hewanted dinner served nicely at seven. Silverware, cut glass, importedchina--all the little luxuries of life appealed to him. He kepthis trunks and wardrobe at the apartment.

  During the first few months everything went smoothly. He was in thehabit of taking Jennie to the theater now and then, and if he chancedto run across an acquaintance he always introduced her as MissGerhardt. When he registered her as his wife it was usually under anassumed name; where there was no danger of detection he did not mindusing his own signature. Thus far there had been no difficulty orunpleasantness of any kind.

  The trouble with this situation was that it was criss-crossed withthe danger and consequent worry which the deception in regard to Vestahad entailed, as well as with Jennie's natural anxiety about herfather and the disorganized home. Jennie feared, as Veronica hinted,that she and William would go to live with Martha, who was installedin a boarding-house in Cleveland, and that Gerhardt would be leftalone. He was such a pathetic figure to her, with his injured handsand his one ability--that of being a watchman--that she washurt to think of his being left alone. Would he come to her? She knewthat he would not--feeling as he did at present. Would Lesterhave him--she was not sure of that. If he came Vesta would haveto be accounted for. So she worried.

  The situation in regard to Vesta was really complicated. Owing tothe feeling that she was doing her daughter a great injustice, Jenniewas particularly sensitive in regard to her, anxious to do a thousandthings to make up for the one great duty that she could not perform.She daily paid a visit to the home of Mrs. Olsen, always taking withher toys, candy, or whatever came into her mind as being likely tointerest and please the child. She liked to sit with Vesta and tellher stories of fairy and giant, which kept the little girl wide-eyed.At last she went so far as to bring her to the apartment, when Lesterwas away visiting his parents, and she soon found it possible, duringhis several absences, to do this regularly. After that, as time wenton and she began to know his habits, she became morebold--although bold is scarcely the word to use in connectionwith Jennie. She became venturesome much as a mouse might; she wouldrisk Vesta's presence on the assurance of even shortabsences--two or three days. She even got into the habit ofkeeping a few of Vesta's toys at the apartment, so that she could havesomething to play with when she came.

  During these several visits from her child Jennie could not butrealize the lovely thing life would be were she only an honored wifeand a happy mother. Vesta was a most observant little girl. She couldby her innocent childish questions give a hundred turns to the daggerof self-reproach which was already planted deeply in Jennie'sheart.

  "Can I come to live with you?" was one of her simplest and mostfrequently repeated questions. Jennie would reply that mamma could nothave her just yet, but that very soon now, just as soon as shepossibly could, Vesta should come to stay always.

  "Don't you know just when?" Vesta would ask.

  "No, dearest, not just when. Very soon now. You won't mind waitinga little while. Don't you like Mrs. Olsen?"

  "Yes," replied Vesta; "but then she ain't got any nice things now.She's just got old things." And Jennie, stricken to the heart, wouldtake Vesta to the toy shop, and load her down with a new assortment ofplaythings.

  Of course Lester was not in the least suspicious. His observationof things relating to the home were rather casual. He went about hiswork and his pleasures believing Jennie to be the soul of sincerityand good-natured service, and it never occurred to him that there wasanything underhanded in her actions. Once he did come home sick in theafternoon and found her absent--an absence which endured from twoo'clock to five. He was a little irritated and grumbled on her return,but his annoyance was as nothing to her astonishment and fright whenshe found him there. She blanched at the thought of his suspectingsomething, and explained as best she could. She had gone to see herwasherwoman. She was slow about her marketing. She didn't dream he wasthere. She was sorry, too, that her absence had lost her anopportunity to ser
ve him. It showed her what a mess she was likely tomake of it all.

  It happened that about three weeks after the above occurrenceLester had occasion to return to Cincinnati for a week, and duringthis time Jennie again brought Vesta to the flat; for four days therewas the happiest goings on between the mother and child.

  Nothing would have come of this little reunion had it not been foran oversight on Jennie's part, the far-reaching effects of which shecould only afterward regret. This was the leaving of a little toy lambunder the large leather divan in the front room, where Lester was wontto lie and smoke. A little bell held by a thread of blue ribbon wasfastened about its neck, and this tinkled feebly whenever it wasshaken. Vesta, with the unaccountable freakishness of children haddeliberately dropped it behind the divan, an action which Jennie didnot notice at the time. When she gathered up the various playthingsafter Vesta's departure she overlooked it entirely, and there itrested, its innocent eyes still staring upon the sunlit regions oftoyland, when Lester returned.

  That same evening, when he was lying on the divan, quietly enjoyinghis cigar and his newspaper, he chanced to drop the former, fullylighted. Wishing to recover it before it should do any damage, heleaned over and looked under the divan. The cigar was not in sight, sohe rose and pulled the lounge out, a move which revealed to him thelittle lamb still standing where Vesta had dropped it. He picked itup, turning it over and over, and wondering how it had come there.

  A lamb! It must belong to some neighbor's child in whom Jennie hadtaken an interest, he thought. He would have to go and tease her aboutthis.

  Accordingly he held the toy jovially before him, and, coming outinto the dining-room, where Jennie was working at the sideboard, heexclaimed in a mock solemn voice, "Where did this come from?"

  Jennie, who was totally unconscious of the existence of thisevidence of her duplicity, turned, and was instantly possessed withthe idea that he had suspected all and was about to visit his justwrath upon her. Instantly the blood flamed in her cheeks and asquickly left them.

  "Why, why!" she stuttered, "it's a little toy I bought."

  "I see it is," he returned genially, her guilty tremor not escapinghis observation, but having at the same time no explicablesignificance to him. "It's frisking around a mighty lonesheepfold."

  He touched the little bell at its throat, while Jennie stood there,unable to speak. It tinkled feebly, and then he looked at her again.His manner was so humorous that she could tell he suspected nothing.However, it was almost impossible for her to recover herself-possession.

  "What's ailing you?" he asked.

  "Nothing," she replied.

  "You look as though a lamb was a terrible shock to you."

  "I forgot to take it out from there, that was all," she went onblindly.

  "It looks as though it has been played with enough," he added moreseriously, and then seeing that the discussion was evidently painfulto her, he dropped it. The lamb had not furnished him the amusementthat he had expected.

  Lester went back into the front room, stretched himself out andthought it over. Why was she nervous? What was there about a toy tomake her grow pale? Surely there was no harm in her harboring someyoungster of the neighborhood when she was alone--having it comein and play. Why should she be so nervous? He thought it over, butcould come to no conclusion.

  Nothing more was said about the incident of the toy lamb. Timemight have wholly effaced the impression from Lester's memory hadnothing else intervened to arouse his suspicions; but a mishap of anykind seems invariably to be linked with others which follow close uponits heels.

  One evening when Lester happened to be lingering about the flatlater than usual the door bell rang, and, Jennie being busy in thekitchen, Lester went himself to open the door. He was greeted by amiddle-aged lady, who frowned very nervously upon him, and inquired inbroken Swedish accents for Jennie.

  "Wait a moment," said Lester; and stepping to the rear door hecalled her.

  Jennie came, and seeing who the visitor was, she stepped nervouslyout in the hall and closed the door after her. The action instantlystruck Lester as suspicious. He frowned and determined to inquirethoroughly into the matter. A moment later Jennie reappeared. Her facewas white and her fingers seemed to be nervously seeking something toseize upon.

  "What's the trouble?" he inquired, the irritation he had felt themoment before giving his voice a touch of gruffness.

  "I've got to go out for a little while," she at last managed toreply.

  "Very well," he assented unwillingly. "But you can tell me what'sthe trouble with you, can't you? Where do you have to go?"

  "I--I," began Jennie, stammering. "I--have--"

  "Yes," he said grimly.

  "I have to go on an errand," she stumbled on. "I--I can'twait. I'll tell you when I come back, Lester. Please don't ask menow."

  She looked vainly at him, her troubled countenance still marked bypreoccupation and anxiety to get away, and Lester, who had never seenthis look of intense responsibility in her before, was moved andirritated by it.

  "That's all right," he said, "but what's the use of all thissecrecy? Why can't you come out and tell what's the matter with you?What's the use of this whispering behind doors? Where do you have togo?"

  He paused, checked by his own harshness, and Jennie, who wasintensely wrought up by the information she had received, as well asthe unwonted verbal castigation she was now enduring, rose to anemotional state never reached by her before.

  "I will, Lester, I will," she exclaimed. "Only not now. I haven'ttime. I'll tell you everything when I come back. Please don't stop menow."

  She hurried to the adjoining chamber to get her wraps, and Lester,who had even yet no clear conception of what it all meant, followedher stubbornly to the door.

  "See here," he exclaimed in his vigorous, brutal way, "you're notacting right. What's the matter with you? I want to know."

  He stood in the doorway, his whole frame exhibiting the pugnacityand settled determination of a man who is bound to be obeyed. Jennie,troubled and driven to bay, turned at last.

  "It's my child, Lester," she exclaimed. "It's dying. I haven't timeto talk. Oh, please don't stop me. I'll tell you everything when Icome back."

  "Your child!" he exclaimed. "What the hell are you talkingabout?"

  "I couldn't help it," she returned. "I was afraid--I shouldhave told you long ago. I meant to only--only--Oh, let me gonow, and I'll tell you all when I come back!"

  He stared at her in amazement; then he stepped aside, unwilling toforce her any further for the present. "Well, go ahead," he saidquietly. "Don't you want some one to go along with you?"

  "No," she replied. "Mrs. Olsen is right here. I'll go withher."

  She hurried forth, white-faced, and he stood there, pondering.Could this be the woman he had thought he knew? Why, she had beendeceiving him for years. Jennie! The white-faced! The simple!

  He choked a little as he muttered:

  "Well, I'll be damned!"