CHAPTER XLII
The fact that Lester had seen this page was made perfectly clear toJennie that evening, for he brought it home himself, having concluded,after mature deliberation, that he ought to. He had told her once thatthere was to be no concealment between them, and this thing, coming sobrutally to disturb their peace, was nevertheless a case in point. Hehad decided to tell her not to think anything of it--that it didnot make much difference, though to him it made all the difference inthe world. The effect of this chill history could never be undone. Thewise--and they included all his social world and many who werenot of it--could see just how he had been living. The articlewhich accompanied the pictures told how he had followed Jennie fromCleveland to Chicago, how she had been coy and distant and that he hadto court her a long time to win her consent. This was to explain theirliving together on the North Side. Lester realized that this was anasinine attempt to sugar-coat the true story and it made him angry.Still he preferred to have it that way rather than in some more brutalvein. He took the paper out of his pocket when he arrived at thehouse, spreading it on the library table. Jennie, who was close by,watched him, for she knew what was coming.
"Here's something that will interest you, Jennie," he said dryly,pointing to the array of text and pictures.
"I've already seen it, Lester," she said wearily. "Mrs. Stendahlshowed it to me this afternoon. I was wondering whether you had."
"Rather high-flown description of my attitude, isn't it? I didn'tknow I was such an ardent Romeo."
"I'm awfully sorry, Lester," said Jennie, reading behind the dryface of humor the serious import of this affair to him. She had longsince learned that Lester did not express his real feeling, his bigills in words. He was inclined to jest and make light of theinevitable, the inexorable. This light comment merely meant "thismatter cannot be helped, so we will make the best of it."
"Oh, don't feel badly about it," he went on. "It isn't anythingwhich can be adjusted now. They probably meant well enough. We justhappen to be in the limelight."
"I understand," said Jennie, coming over to him. "I'm sorry,though, anyway." Dinner was announced a moment later and the incidentwas closed.
But Lester could not dismiss the thought that matters were gettingin a bad way. His father had pointed it out to him rather plainly atthe last interview, and now this newspaper notoriety had capped theclimax. He might as well abandon his pretension to intimacy with hisold world. It would have none of him, or at least the moreconservative part of it would not. There were a few bachelors, a fewgay married men, some sophisticated women, single and married, who sawthrough it all and liked him just the same, but they did not makesociety. He was virtually an outcast, and nothing could save him butto reform his ways; in other words, he must give up Jennie once andfor all.
But he did not want to do this. The thought was painful tohim--objectionable in every way. Jennie was growing in mentalacumen. She was beginning to see things quite as clearly as he did.She was not a cheap, ambitious, climbing creature. She was a big womanand a good one. It would be a shame to throw her down, and besides shewas good-looking. He was forty-six and she was twenty-nine; and shelooked twenty-four or five. It is an exceptional thing to find beauty,youth, compatibility, intelligence, your own point ofview--softened and charmingly emotionalized--in another. Hehad made his bed, as his father had said. He had better lie on it.
It was only a little while after this disagreeable newspaperincident that Lester had word that his father was quite ill andfailing; it might be necessary for him to go to Cincinnati at anymoment. Pressure of work was holding him pretty close when the newscame that his father was dead. Lester, of course, was greatly shockedand grieved, and he returned to Cincinnati in a retrospective andsorrowful mood. His father had been a great character to him--afine and interesting old gentleman entirely aside from hisrelationship to him as his son. He remembered him now dandling himupon his knee as a child, telling him stories of his early life inIreland, and of his subsequent commercial struggle when he was alittle older, impressing the maxims of his business career and hiscommercial wisdom on him as he grew to manhood. Old Archibald had beenradically honest. It was to him that Lester owed his instincts forplain speech and direct statement of fact. "Never lie," wasArchibald's constant, reiterated statement. "Never try to make a thinglook different from what it is to you. It's the breath oflife--truth--it's the basis of real worth, while commercialsuccess--it will make a notable character of any one who willstick to it." Lester believed this. He admired his father intenselyfor his rigid insistence on truth, and now that he was really gone hefelt sorry. He wished he might have been spared to be reconciled tohim. He half fancied that old Archibald would have liked Jennie if hehad known her. He did not imagine that he would ever have had theopportunity to straighten things out, although he still felt thatArchibald would have liked her.
When he reached Cincinnati it was snowing, a windy, blustery snow.The flakes were coming down thick and fast. The traffic of the cityhad a muffled sound. When he stepped down from the train he was met byAmy, who was glad to see him in spite of all their past differences.Of all the girls she was the most tolerant. Lester put his arms abouther, and kissed her.
"It seems like old times to see you, Amy," he said, "your coming tomeet me this way. How's the family? I suppose they're all here. Well,poor father, his time had to come. Still, he lived to see everythingthat he wanted to see. I guess he was pretty well satisfied with theoutcome of his efforts."
"Yes," replied Amy, "and since mother died he was very lonely."
They rode up to the house in kindly good feeling, chatting of oldtimes and places. All the members of the immediate family, and thevarious relatives, were gathered in the old family mansion. Lesterexchanged the customary condolences with the others, realizing all thewhile that his father had lived long enough. He had had a successfullife, and had fallen like a ripe apple from the tree. Lester looked athim where he lay in the great parlor, in his black coffin, and afeeling of the old-time affection swept over him. He smiled at theclean-cut, determined, conscientious face.
"The old gentleman was a big man all the way through," he said toRobert, who was present. "We won't find a better figure of a mansoon."
"We will not," said his brother, solemnly.
After the funeral it was decided to read the will at once. Louise'shusband was anxious to return to Buffalo; Lester was compelled to bein Chicago. A conference of the various members of the family wascalled for the second day after the funeral, to be held at the officesof Messrs. Knight, Keatley & O'Brien, counselors of the latemanufacturer.
As Lester rode to the meeting he had the feeling that his fatherhad not acted in any way prejudicial to his interests. It had not beenso very long since they had had their last conversation; he had beentaking his time to think about things, and his father had given himtime. He always felt that he had stood well with the old gentleman,except for his alliance with Jennie. His business judgment had beenvaluable to the company. Why should there be any discriminationagainst him? He really did not think it possible.
When they reached the offices of the law firm, Mr. O'Brien, ashort, fussy, albeit comfortable-looking little person, greeted allthe members of the family and the various heirs and assigns with ahearty handshake. He had been personal counsel to Archibald Kane fortwenty years. He knew his whims and idiosyncrasies, and consideredhimself very much in the light of a father confessor. He liked all thechildren, Lester especially.
"Now I believe we are all here," he said, finally, extracting apair of large horn reading-glasses from his coat pocket and lookingsagely about. "Very well. We might as well proceed to business. I willjust read the will without any preliminary remarks."
He turned to his desk, picked up a paper lying upon it, cleared histhroat, and began.
It was a peculiar document, in some respects, for it began with allthe minor bequests; first, small sums to old employees, servants, andfriends. It then took up a few institutional bequests, and final
lycame to the immediate family, beginning with the girls. Imogene, as afaithful and loving daughter was left a sixth of the stock of thecarriage company and a fourth of the remaining properties of thedeceased, which roughly aggregated (the estate--not her share)about eight hundred thousand dollars. Amy and Louise were provided forin exactly the same proportion. The grandchildren were given certainlittle bonuses for good conduct, when they should come of age. Then ittook up the cases of Robert and Lester.
"Owing to certain complications which have arisen in the affairs ofmy son Lester," it began, "I deem it my duty to make certainconditions which shall govern the distribution of the remainder of myproperty, to wit: One-fourth of the stock of the Kane ManufacturingCompany and one-fourth of the remainder of my various properties,real, personal, moneys, stocks and bonds, to go to my beloved sonRobert, in recognition of the faithful performance of his duty, andone-fourth of the stock of the Kane Manufacturing Company and theremaining fourth of my various properties, real, personal, moneys,stocks and bonds, to be held in trust by him for the benefit of hisbrother Lester, until such time as such conditions as may hereinafterbe set forth shall have been complied with. And it is my wish anddesire that my children shall concur in his direction of the KaneManufacturing Company, and of such other interests as are entrusted tohim, until such time as he shall voluntarily relinquish such control,or shall indicate another arrangement which shall be better."
Lester swore under his breath. His cheeks changed color, but he didnot move. He was not inclined to make a show. It appeared that he wasnot even mentioned separately.
The conditions "hereinafter set forth" dealt very fully with hiscase, however, though they were not read aloud to the family at thetime, Mr. O'Brien stating that this was in accordance with theirfather's wish. Lester learned immediately afterward that he was tohave ten thousand a year for three years, during which time he had thechoice of doing either one of two things: First, he was to leaveJennie, if he had not already married her, and so bring his life intomoral conformity with the wishes of his father. In this event Lester'sshare of the estate was to be immediately turned over to him.Secondly, he might elect to marry Jennie, if he had not already doneso, in which case the ten thousand a year, specifically set aside tohim for three years, was to be continued for life--but for hislife only. Jennie was not to have anything of it after his death. Theten thousand in question represented the annual interest on twohundred shares of L. S. and M. S. stock which were also to be held intrust until his decision had been reached and their final dispositioneffected. If Lester refused to marry Jennie, or to leave her, he wasto have nothing at all after the three years were up. At Lester'sdeath the stock on which his interest was drawn was to be divided prorata among the surviving members of the family. If any heir or assigncontested the will, his or her share was thereby forfeitedentirely.
It was astonishing to Lester to see how thoroughly his father hadtaken his case into consideration. He half suspected, on reading theseconditions, that his brother Robert had had something to do with theframing of them, but of course he could not be sure. Robert had notgiven any direct evidence of enmity.
"Who drew this will?" he demanded of O'Brien, a little later.
"Well, we all had a hand in it," replied O'Brien, a littleshamefacedly. "It was a very difficult document to draw up. You know,Mr. Kane, there was no budging your father. He was adamant. He hascome very near defeating his own wishes in some of these clauses. Ofcourse, you know, we had nothing to do with its spirit. That wasbetween you and him. I hated very much to have to do it."
"Oh, I understand all that!" said Lester. "Don't let that worryyou."
Mr. O'Brien was very grateful.
During the reading of the will Lester had sat as stolid as anox.
He got up after a time, as did the others, assuming an air ofnonchalance. Robert, Amy, Louise and Imogene all felt shocked, but notexactly, not unqualifiedly regretful. Certainly Lester had acted verybadly. He had given his father great provocation.
"I think the old gentleman has been a little rough in this," saidRobert, who had been sitting next him. "I certainly did not expect himto go as far as that. So far as I am concerned some other arrangementwould have been satisfactory."
Lester smiled grimly. "It doesn't matter," he said.
Imogene, Amy, and Louise were anxious to be consolatory, but theydid not know what to say. Lester had brought it all on himself. "Idon't think papa acted quite right, Lester," ventured Amy, but Lesterwaved her away almost gruffly.
"I can stand it," he said.
He figured out, as he stood there, what his income would be in casehe refused to comply with his father's wishes. Two hundred shares ofL. S. and M. S., in open market, were worth a little over one thousandeach. They yielded from five to six per cent., sometimes more,sometimes less. At this rate he would have ten thousand a year, notmore.
The family gathering broke up, each going his way, and Lesterreturned to his sister's house. He wanted to get out of the cityquickly, gave business as an excuse to avoid lunching with any one,and caught the earliest train back to Chicago. As he rode hemeditated.
So this was how much his father really cared for him! Could itreally be so? He, Lester Kane, ten thousand a year, for only threeyears, and then longer only on condition that he married Jennie! "Tenthousand a year," he thought, "and that for three years! Good Lord!Any smart clerk can earn that. To think he should have done that tome!"
Jennie Gerhardt: A Novel Page 42