Wide Is the Gate (The Lanny Budd Novels)

by Upton Sinclair

  “What do you want to do, Lanny?”

  “I ought to have a straight talk with him. He’s a Continental, and expects a dot; he’ll count it a favor if I explain that Marceline won’t have any.”

  “Will he believe you?”

  “I’ll make it perfectly clear that I have no money but what I earn, that you have only the allowance my father gives you, and that I’ve broken with my wife and won’t have a cent of her money.”

  “Oh, my God, Lanny!”

  “You’ll see how it works! The Capitano will fold up his tents like the Arabs and as silently steal away.”

  “But, Lanny, the scandal!”

  “Whatever scandal there is we have to face, and what’s the good of putting it off day after day?”

  “Oh, you promised me you would go and see Irma!”

  “I did and I will; but I told you that nothing would come of it, and you only deceive yourself when you cherish any hope.”

  Beauty began to weep. “Oh, Lanny, Lanny! We have been such a happy family! And I thought all our problems were solved!”

  She had tried, but couldn’t bring herself to face the cruel reality. No! No! Not a word! Keep the skeleton locked in the family closet! She would talk to the young airman herself, and tell him about the poverty which had dogged her all her life; she would tell him that she had never had a penny from Irma and never expected to have one; that the place was plastered with mortgages. “He won’t be able to find out about that, will he, Lanny?”

  “He can look it up any time he wants to; and then he’ll think you’re lying about everything.”

  “I can tell him that the place belongs to Robbie, and that he’s threatened to turn me out and sell it. Robbie will back me up, for he certainly won’t care to see Marceline married to a poor crippled Dago—that’s what he’ll call him!”

  XIV

  Margy Eversham-Watson came to occupy the Cottage for the season, and some friends of Sophie’s leased the Lodge; so Beauty would have plenty of company, and a bridge four always at hand. Everybody was interested in the coming party and helped when they could. When the great evening arrived, Lanny put on his white tie and tails, and Marceline a rose-pink tulle costume bought with Robbie’s money. The white-haired Emily looked stately and noble in black velvet, and the golden-haired Beauty Budd in white satin was asked if she was the debutante. Music, laughter, and the perfume of flowers filled the air of the very splendid villa. Lanny danced with light feet but a heavy heart; having created patterns in times of joy, he could reproduce them in times of sorrow. The elegant company knew nothing about the state of his heart, and applauded enthusiastically; the occasion was one of great eclat for the Budd-Detaze-Dingle family.

  There is an old song telling about the sad things which happen after the ball is over, and it was so with the abdicating prince consort. He packed his bags for the drive to Marseille, with the family chauffeur to bring back the car. The last thing before departing he put his arm around Marceline, led her aside, and exhorted: “Remember, Little Sister, if you marry an Italian Fascist you come under their code, which makes woman nothing but a brood animal, and your one duty will be to bear children so that Il Duce can have plenty of soldiers for his new empire.”

  Little Sister’s reply was: “Boo!”

  17

  A FRUITLESS CROWN

  I

  “The proprieties are very important to the rich”—so remarked a character in one of Rick’s dramas. “If it were not for the proprieties, the poor would surely take their riches.” And now the visiting husband discovered that the proprieties were going to rule at Shore Acres. Irma brought the child to meet him at the steamer, and the child provided all the warmth necessary to a proper reunion. She was at the age where they grow fast, and half a year provides many surprises; an inch or two taller, many pounds heavier, a new vocabulary, a set of new ideas, new questions. “Oh, Papa, why do you stay away so long? Oh, Papa, will you stay for my birthday?”

  He told her about the wonderful party they had had at Sept Chenes, and how he had danced with Marceline. Frances had a dancing teacher, a piano and singing teacher, and told him all about these. She prattled a little rudimentary French and he would teach her more; in these matters she was in his hands. She had heard no hint that there was anything wrong with him; a tragic thing that there had to be, and both the parents, sitting in the car with the eager little one between them, felt a tugging at their heart-strings:

  At Shore Acres he found the same desperate determination that the proprieties should rule. “Mother” and Uncle Horace came to the door to greet him. “Mother” kissed him, and her brother shook him warmly by the hand. Not one of the servants must see any sign that his status was diminished. Having lived in the fashionable world for thirty-six years, Lanny was familiar with the fact that people often say one thing when they mean another; they laugh gaily when their hearts are weeping; they express cordiality when in reality they dislike you and begin to run you down the moment you are out of the room. So now in the smiling faces of this elderly brother and sister he read anxiety, in their voices he heard mock humility.

  He understood the situation. He was the father of the most precious of all children, and had committed no offense which would enable Irma to deprive him of his rights. He might insist upon taking the little one away for six months every year, and no court in the world would say No. He might take her motoring and put her on board a steamer for France, and once outside the ten-mile limit, they might be forever powerless to get her back. So, bow down before him! Study his whims, ask what he wants and try to supply it, make him feel that this is his home, in which he can enjoy every privilege, and even the spiritual benefits of love and affection, cordiality and admiration. If he expresses dislike for any person, that person will cease to be invited; if he expresses an opinion as to the prospects of the market, Uncle Horace, who considers himself Wall Street’s leading authority, will hasten to agree.

  What in their secret hearts did they feel, and what were they hoping the young couple would do? Lanny would never know. Irma was the boss of the establishment; she would settle it, and the elders, the dowager and the derelict, would accommodate themselves as best they could. That was the way the public utilities king had decreed it when he had drafted his will; the widow down and the daughter up—and himself standing at the top of the great staircase, frowning down upon the scene, knowing that he had employed the best lawyers and that his orders would stand.

  II

  The little darling was sent away to her governess, and Lanny was alone with his wife in her apartment. He looked at her and she at him. “Well, Irma?” he said; and she answered: “Well, Lanny?”

  “I have thought about it a lot, dear.” He waited, and when she did not answer he said: “It was you who went away.”

  “I know; and you who have stayed a long while.” So they sparred. He asked: “You haven’t changed your mind?” and she replied: “Have you?”

  Someone had to break the ice, and he had promised his mother to try. “I still love you, dear,” he said, and she answered: “I still love you; but have you changed your mind?” He said: “No,” and she at once replied: “I haven’t changed mine.”

  So it was a deadlock, and not much more to be said. Irma had had a long talk with Robbie since his return from abroad, and Robbie, sensible fellow, had known there wasn’t any use trying to fool her as to. Lanny’s attitude, Robbie was a man who could be trusted with a confidence, and both had trusted him; he had tried to serve as arbitrator, and the best compromise he could suggest was what they had right now. They would be friends, and be polite to each other, but go their own ways and not be husband and wife.

  Irma had the suite with the solid gold bathroom fixtures and Lanny had the suite with the solid silver bathroom fixtures. Between them hung a generously proportioned door of eucalyptus wood, known in the days of J. Paramount Barnes as “Circassian walnut” and very highly esteemed. That door stayed open both by day and by night, but
neither of them crossed its threshold. Lanny would lie in his sumptuous bed with the baby-blue silk coverlet, and would try to guess: “What does she really want?” The hearts of men and women are not simple, and he guessed that her emotions were mixed like his own. Did she want to be wanted, even though in vain? If he came to her bedside and tried to seduce her, would she be secretly pleased or would she consider it a breach of faith?

  There was much that he might have said. “I want you to know that I haven’t been making love to any other woman. I have no thought of any other woman but you.” He might have said: “We have a great deal in common, dear, and for the child’s sake we ought to work out some arrangement.” She would have been willing to talk it out with him, but what had he to propose? Would he give up his interest in left-wing causes? Would he give up helping Trudi Schultz and others like her when they asked him? Would he say that if ever he met some anti-Nazi or anti-Fascist in peril of his life he wouldn’t help that person to escape? No, he wouldn’t say any of these things; to broach the subject would be to start another wrangle, of the sort that killed all love and even friendship. As for Irma, would she say: “I am willing to go on loving you, even while I know that you are doing the things I hate and fear”? Well, if she was willing to say anything like that, let her give him a hint! Any woman knows how.

  III

  He played the piano for Frances and watched her music lessons; he taught her Provencal songs, and danced with her to the music of a phonograph; he romped with her in the snow and pulled her on a sled. She rarely went off the estate, for it had everything a child nearing six could desire, including the children of several of the staff, with whom she played under supervision of the trustworthy Miss Addington, who had educated Marceline. Irma’s friends came; they were supposed to be his friends also, and they played squash and billiards and bridge, they swam in the indoor pool, they danced in one another’s homes and in roadhouses built for their entertainment. Irma had always been a reserved woman, and Lanny a queer fish, so no one suspected trouble between them. When they went in to a show, they took the old people along, which was a kindness and at the same time spared an estranged couple the temptation to intimate talk.

  Lanny drove over to Newcastle and spent a while with his father’s family, visiting the new plant. They were working on the planes for General Goring, also on trainer planes for the United States Army and on sport planes for the rich. Aviation was spreading everywhere and the tireless Johannes was searching out new business; flying to Canada, where freight was being ferried to prospectors in the northern wilderness; to Central America, where planes were hopping over jungles and up into precipitous mountains. Robbie Budd was completely absorbed in his grand new job. Esther, taking Lanny for a confidant, reported that her husband was no longer going downhill; he still had his whisky, but wasn’t increasing the quantity, and his substitute for the stock market was a night of poker once a week with his cronies.

  Lanny moved to the home which Hansi and Bess had bought on a point of the Connecticut shore. The couple went into the city and gave concerts, frequently for the benefit of refugees, or of working-class agitators in trouble with the police; it was damaging to the reputation of two distinguished artists, and their agent protested as much as he dared. The granddaughter of the Puritans would answer: “We don’t have to be rich.” Pretty soon she would have to retire for a while, on account of the expected baby.

  Lanny was a free man. He could go into New York when he pleased, and didn’t have to say where he had been or whom he had met; if he wanted to spend the night, there was nobody to worry. He could call at the office of the New Leader, have lunch with its editors in the Rand School cafeteria, and listen to all the Pink talk he pleased. He could even go to a Communist meeting in Mecca Temple, slipping in quietly and watching the united front in action—not altogether perfect action, he was sad to admit.

  IV

  One morning he read in his newspaper that Terry Hammersmith was in town; there was Terry’s picture, plump, with nose-glasses and the most benevolent of smiles. Lanny hadn’t seen this budding bureaucrat since the month of June 1919, when they had been part of a dissident group which dined together to discuss the newly concluded treaty of Versailles. They had to decide whether it was their duty to resign in protest against its many departures from the Fourteen Points. Terry had been one of those who made evasive speeches and decided to stay on and make the best of things; now he was having his reward, being Co-ordinator of the P.D.Q., or whatever the alphabetical combination was which had just been formed to integrate six other assorted groups which had been stumbling over one another’s initials for the past year or two.

  Lanny thought: “Here’s a chance to find out about the New Deal!” He telephoned, and after some difficulty got the busy official on the wire, and they gave each other verbal slaps on the back. Terry must have heard about Irma Barnes, and wouldn’t fail to be impressed. “Meet me somewhere for lunch,” said the prince consort, “and tell me about your job.”

  The guest was late, because he had been at an important conference. He was bubbling over with energy and enthusiasm. He was making over the world, and the happiness of many thousands depended upon his efforts; it gave him a sense of exhilaration. Lanny got from his talk the impression that the New Deal consisted of many well-meaning persons pulling and hauling, each against the others. Terry had just emerged victorious from a titanic struggle for power. He had managed to get to the “Big Chief,” and had presented an outline for a reorganization of his own and other bureaus. “Honestly, old man, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I learned that my plan had been accepted and that I was to have full charge! Of course the problem now is whether I can manage to persuade the others to co-operate, or whether I’ll have to get a new staff.”

  Lanny tried to find out what it was all about, but his friend described so many trees that Lanny couldn’t get a clear idea of the forest, and wasn’t sure if his friend had it either. Presently he was surprised by a proposal: “Listen, old boy, why don’t you come in with us?”

  “You mean, take a job?”

  “I’d be delighted to have you, and you could be tremendously useful.”

  “But, Terry, I haven’t had any experience!”

  “Very few of us have, at this kind of work. We learn as we go along. Of course the pay isn’t high, but you probably don’t need it.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not adapted to a settled job, Terry. I’m not a particularly good judge of men, and I don’t believe I’d be a success at giving orders.”

  “The main thing is that you’re honest, and your heart would be in it. We have to train a whole staff of men in disinterested public service, and if they make mistakes on the way, that can’t be helped. You know as well as I do that this thing isn’t going backwards; all private industry has got to become a public service—but we can’t do it until we have trained men and got them ready to take responsibility as the emergencies arise. It’s hard work, but it’s a lot of fun, really.”

  Lanny listened with one half of his brain, and with the other half he thought: “What a joke it would be on Robbie! I wonder how he’d take it!” He thought: “I wonder how I’d get along with Irma. That might be a solution of our problem; if I took a government job, it would be respectable and make an impression on her.” But then he thought about Trudi in Paris, and what would she do for funds? She couldn’t keep up her work on what Lanny could spare from the six or eight thousand dollars a government job would pay. He thought about Raoul and the school, and about Rick, and the other people he would never see if he tied himself down to a desk in Washington.

  “I’m sorry, Terry,” he said. “It all sounds alluring, and some day I may fall for it; but right now I’ve got a job that I think is important. I’ve made promises that don’t leave me free. I’ll drop in once in a while when I’m in America and find out how things are going with you.”

  V

  Back at Shore Acres the young lord of the manor foun
d a cablegram just being delivered; a message that was like a blow over his heart. It was from his mother, and read:

  “Marceline eloped with Vittorio left farewell note not stating destination am prostrated what shall I do?”

  It seemed to Lanny that his world was falling to pieces, stone after stone. He could think of few things worse that could have happened to one whom he still regarded as a child. His conscience smote him because he hadn’t tried harder to prevent it; because he had gone away and left her in this peril. He had been neglecting all his different families, his different homes, while trying to solve the problems of a world which didn’t want his help and wouldn’t take his advice.

  He hesitated only a few minutes over his reply. He had done some investigating into the marriage laws of the Continent while trying to get married to Irma, and he knew that Marceline couldn’t get married in Western Europe without her mother’s consent; also a birth certificate was requisite, and a period of delay which varied in the different countries, This ill-assorted couple would be conspicuous wherever they went and it should be possible to find them. He cabled:

  “Advise you notify police endeavor intercept prevent calamity disregard scandal absolutely necessary avert wreck of child’s life you alone can act.”

  Having sent this, Lanny telephoned his father. He had already told Robbie about the Capitano and so not much conversation was required. Robbie agreed with his son and would send an urgent message. Several hours later Lanny received a reply saying that his mother had done what he advised; so next afternoon the New York papers carried a delightful item from Cannes regarding an elopement in the highest circles of that socially prominent town. You cannot expect to bask in the limelight while you are happy, and have it instantaneously turned off when you happen to get into trouble. Having done everything possible to make herself and her daughter conspicuous only two or three weeks ago, Beauty Budd couldn’t dodge the consequences now.