CHAPTER XXIII
The business of arranging for this sudden departure was really notso difficult as it first appeared. Jennie proposed to tell her motherthe whole truth, and there was nothing to say to her father exceptthat she was going with Mrs. Bracebridge at the latter's request. Hemight question her, but he really could not doubt Before going homethat afternoon she accompanied Lester to a department store, where shewas fitted out with a trunk, a suit-case, and a traveling suit andhat. Lester was very proud of his prize. "When we get to New York I amgoing to get you some real things," he told her. "I am going to showyou what you can be made to look like." He had all the purchasedarticles packed in the trunk and sent to his hotel. Then he arrangedto have Jennie come there and dress Monday for the trip which began inthe afternoon.
When she came home Mrs. Gerhardt, who was in the kitchen, receivedher with her usual affectionate greeting. "Have you been working veryhard?" she asked. "You look tired."
"No," she said, "I'm not tired. It isn't that. I just don't feelgood."
"What's the trouble?"
"Oh, I have to tell you something, mamma. It's so hard." Shepaused, looking inquiringly at her mother, and then away.
"Why, what is it?" asked her mother nervously. So many things hadhappened in the past that she was always on the alert for some newcalamity. "You haven't lost your place, have you?"
"No," replied Jennie, with an effort to maintain her mental poise,"but I'm going to leave it."
"No!" exclaimed her mother. "Why?"
"I'm going to New York."
Her mother's eyes opened widely. "Why, when did you decide to dothat?" she inquired.
"To-day."
"You don't mean it!"
"Yes, I do, mamma. Listen. I've got something I want to tell you.You know how poor we are. There isn't any way we can make things comeout right. I have found some one who wants to help us. He says heloves me, and he wants me to go to New York with him Monday. I'vedecided to go."
"Oh, Jennie!" exclaimed her mother. "Surely not! You wouldn't doanything like that after all that's happened. Think of yourfather."
"I've thought it all out," went on Jennie, firmly. "It's really forthe best. He's a good man. I know he is. He has lots of money. Hewants me to go with him, and I'd better go. He will take a new housefor us when we come back and help us to get along. No one will everhave me as a wife--you know that. It might as well be this way.He loves me. And I love him. Why shouldn't I go?"
"Does he know about Vesta?" asked her mother cautiously.
"No," said Jennie guiltily. "I thought I'd better not tell himabout her. She oughtn't to be brought into it if I can help it."
"I'm afraid you're storing up trouble for yourself, Jennie," saidher mother. "Don't you think he is sure to find it out some time?"
"I thought maybe that she could be kept here," suggested Jennie,"until she's old enough to go to school. Then maybe I could send hersomewhere."
"She might," assented her mother; "but don't you think it would bebetter to tell him now? He won't think any the worse of you."
"It isn't that. It's her," said Jennie passionately. "I don't wanther to be brought into it."
Her mother shook her head. "Where did you meet him?" sheinquired.
"At Mrs. Bracebridge's."
"How long ago?"
"Oh, it's been almost two months now."
"And you never said anything about him," protested Mrs. Gerhardtreproachfully.
"I didn't know that he cared for me this way," said Jenniedefensively.
"Why didn't you wait and let him come out here first?" asked hermother. "It will make things so much easier. You can't go and not haveyour father find out."
"I thought I'd say I was going with Mrs. Bracebridge. Papa can'tobject to my going with her."
"No," agreed her mother thoughtfully.
The two looked at each other in silence. Mrs. Gerhardt, with herimaginative nature, endeavored to formulate some picture of this newand wonderful personality that had come into Jennie's life. He waswealthy; he wanted to take Jennie; he wanted to give them a good home.What a story!
"And he gave me this," put in Jennie, who, with some instinctivepsychic faculty, had been following her mother's mood. She opened herdress at the neck, and took out the two hundred and fifty dollars; sheplaced the money in her mother's hands.
The latter stared at it wide-eyed. Here was the relief for all herwoes--food, clothes, rent, coal--all done up in one smallpackage of green and yellow bills. If there were plenty of money inthe house Gerhardt need not worry about his burned hands; George andMartha and Veronica could be clothed in comfort and made happy.
Jennie could dress better; there would be a future education forVesta.
"Do you think he might ever want to marry you?" asked her motherfinally.
"I don't know," replied Jennie "he might. I know he loves me."
"Well," said her mother after a long pause, "if you're going totell your father you'd better do it right away. He'll think it'sstrange as it is."
Jennie realized that she had won. Her mother had acquiesced fromsheer force of circumstances. She was sorry, but somehow it seemed tobe for the best. "I'll help you out with it," her mother hadconcluded, with a little sigh.
The difficulty of telling this lie was very great for Mrs.Gerhardt, but she went through the falsehood with a seemingnonchalance which allayed Gerhardt's suspicions. The children werealso told, and when, after the general discussion, Jennie repeated thefalsehood to her father it seemed natural enough.
"How long do you think you'll be gone?" he inquired.
"About two or three weeks," she replied.
"That's a nice trip," he said. "I came through New York in 1844. Itwas a small place then compared to what it is now."
Secretly he was pleased that Jennie should have this fine chance.Her employer must like her.
When Monday came Jennie bade her parents good-by and left early,going straight to the Dornton, where Lester awaited her.
"So you came," he said gaily, greeting her as she entered theladies' parlor.
"Yes," she said simply.
"You are my niece," he went on. "I have engaged H room for you nearmine. I'll call for the key, and you go dress. When you're ready I'llhave the trunk sent to the depot. The train leaves at oneo'clock."
She went to her room and dressed, while he fidgeted about, read,smoked, and finally knocked at her door.
She replied by opening to him, fully clad.
"You look charming," he said with a smile.
She looked down, for she was nervous and distraught. The wholeprocess of planning, lying, nerving herself to carry out her part hadbeen hard on her. She looked tired and worried.
"Not grieving, are you?" he asked, seeing how things stood.
"No-o," she replied.
"Come now, sweet. You mustn't feel this way. It's coming out allright." He took her in his arms and kissed her, and they strolled downthe hall. He was astonished to see how well she looked in even thesesimple clothes--the best she had ever had.
They reached the depot after a short carriage ride. Theaccommodations had been arranged for before hand, and Kane had allowedjust enough time to make the train. When they settled themselves in aPullman state-room it was with a keen sense of satisfaction on hispart. Life looked rosy. Jennie was beside him. He had succeeded inwhat he had started out to do. So might it always be.
As the train rolled out of the depot and the long reaches of thefields succeeded Jennie studied them wistfully. There were theforests, leafless and bare; the wide, brown fields, wet with the rainsof winter; the low farm-houses sitting amid flat stretches of prairie,their low roofs making them look as if they were hugging the ground.The train roared past little hamlets, with cottages of white andyellow and drab, their roofs blackened by frost and rain. Jennie notedone in particular which seemed to recall the old neighborhood wherethey used to live at Columbus; she put her handkerchief to her eyesand began silently to cry.
"I hope you're not crying, are you, Jennie?" said
Lester, looking up suddenly from the letter he had been reading."Come, come," he went on as he saw a faint tremor shaking her. "Thiswon't do. You have to do better than this. You'll never get along ifyou act that way."
She made no reply, and the depth of her silent grief filled himwith strange sympathies.
"Don't cry," he continued soothingly; "everything will be allright. I told you that. You needn't worry about anything."
Jennie made a great effort to recover herself, and began to dry hereyes.
"You don't want to give way like that," he continued. "It doesn'tdo you any good. I know how you feel about leaving home, but tearswon't help it any. It isn't as if you were going away for good, youknow. Besides, you'll be going back shortly. You care for me, don'tyou, sweet? I'm something?"
"Yes," she said, and managed to smile back at him.
Lester returned to his correspondence and Jennie fell to thinkingof Vesta. It troubled her to realize that she was keeping this secretfrom one who was already very dear to her. She knew that she ought totell Lester about the child, but she shrank from the painfulnecessity. Perhaps later on she might find the courage to do it.
"I'll have to tell him something," she thought with a suddenupwelling of feeling as regarded the seriousness of this duty. "If Idon't do it soon and I should go and live with him and he should findit out he would never forgive me. He might turn me out, and then wherewould I go? I have no home now. What would I do with Vesta?"
She turned to contemplate him, a premonitory wave of terrorsweeping over her, but she only saw that imposing and comfort-lovingsoul quietly reading his letters, his smoothly shaved red cheek andcomfortable head and body looking anything but militant or like anavenging Nemesis. She was just withdrawing her gaze when he lookedup.
"Well, have you washed all your sins away?" he inquiredmerrily.
She smiled faintly at the allusion. The touch of fact in it made itslightly piquant.
"I expect so," she replied.
He turned to some other topic, while she looked out of the window,the realization that one impulse to tell him had proved unavailingdwelling in her mind. "I'll have to do it shortly," she thought, andconsoled herself with the idea that she would surely find couragebefore long.
Their arrival in New York the next day raised the importantquestion in Lester's mind as to where he should stop. New York was avery large place, and he was not in much danger of encountering peoplewho would know him, but he thought it just as well not to takechances. Accordingly he had the cabman drive them to one of the moreexclusive apartment hotels, where he engaged a suite of rooms; andthey settled themselves for a stay of two or three weeks.
This atmosphere into which Jennie was now plunged was so wonderful,so illuminating, that she could scarcely believe this was the sameworld that she had inhabited before. Kane was no lover of vulgardisplay. The appointments with which he surrounded himself were alwayssimple and elegant. He knew at a glance what Jennie needed, and boughtfor her with discrimination and care. And Jennie, a woman, took a keenpleasure in the handsome gowns and pretty fripperies that he lavishedupon her. Could this be really Jennie Gerhardt, the washerwoman'sdaughter, she asked herself, as she gazed in her mirror at the figureof a girl clad in blue velvet, with yellow French lace at her throatand upon her arms? Could these be her feet, clad in soft shapely shoesat ten dollars a pair, these her hands adorned with flashing jewels?What wonderful good fortune she was enjoying! And Lester had promisedthat her mother would share in it. Tears sprang to her eyes at thethought. The dear mother, how she loved her!
It was Lester's pleasure in these days to see what he could do tomake her look like some one truly worthy of im. He exercised his mostcareful judgment, and the result surprised even himself. People turnedin the halls, in the dining-rooms, and on the street to gaze atJennie.
"A stunning woman that man has with him," was a frequentcomment.
Despite her altered state Jennie did not lose her judgment of lifeor her sense of perspective or proportion. She felt as though lifewere tentatively loaning her something which would be taken away aftera time. There was no pretty vanity in her bosom. Lester realized thisas he watched her. "You're a big woman, in your way," he said. "You'llamount to something. Life hasn't given you much of a deal up tonow."
He wondered how he could justify this new relationship to hisfamily, should they chance to hear about it. If he should decide totake a home in Chicago or St. Louis (there was such a thought runningin his mind) could he maintain it secretly? Did he want to? He washalf persuaded that he really, truly loved her.
As the time drew near for their return he began to counsel her asto her future course of action. "You ought to find some way ofintroducing me, as an acquaintance, to your father," he said. "It willease matters up. I think I'll call. Then if you tell him you're goingto marry me he'll think nothing of it." Jennie thought of Vesta, andtrembled inwardly. But perhaps her father could be induced to remainsilent.
Lester had made the wise suggestion that she should retain theclothes she had worn in Cleveland in order that she might wear themhome when she reached there. "There won't be any trouble about thisother stuff," he said. "I'll have it cared for until we make someother arrangement." It was all very simple and easy; he was a masterstrategist.
Jennie had written her mother almost daily since she had been East.She had inclosed little separate notes to be read by Mrs. Gerhardtonly. In one she explained Lester's desire to call, and urged hermother to prepare the way by telling her father that she had met someone who liked her. She spoke of the difficulty concerning Vesta, andher mother at once began to plan a campaign o have Gerhardt hold hispeace. There must be no hitch now. Jennie must be given an opportunityto better herself. When she returned there was great rejoicing. Ofcourse she could not go back to her work, but Mrs. Gerhardt explainedthat Mrs. Bracebridge had given Jennie a few weeks' vacation in orderthat she might look for something better, something at which he couldmake more money.