Jennie Gerhardt - Драйзер Теодор (книги без регистрации бесплатно полностью сокращений .txt) 📗

on Drexel Boulevard. "I'm going to take a house in your town this winter, and I hope to see a lot of you," she wrote to Lester. "I'm awfully bored with life here in Cincinnati. After Europe it's so—well, you know. I saw

Mrs. Knowles on Saturday. She asked after you. You ought to know that

you have a loving friend in her. Her daughter is going to marry Jimmy

Severance in the spring."

Lester thought of her coming with mingled feelings of pleasure and

uncertainty. She would be entertaining largely, of course. Would she

foolishly begin by attempting to invite him and Jennie? Surely not. She

must know the truth by this time. Her letter indicated as much. She spoke of seeing a lot of him. That meant that Jennie would have to be

eliminated. He would have to make a clean breast of the whole affair to

Letty. Then she could do as she pleased about their future intimacy.

Seated in Letty's comfortable boudoir one afternoon, facing a vision of

loveliness in pale yellow, he decided that he might as well have it out

with her. She would understand. Just at this time he was beginning to

doubt the outcome of the real estate deal, and consequently he was

feeling a little blue, and, as a concomitant, a little confidential. He could not as yet talk to Jennie about his troubles.

"You know, Lester," said Letty, by way of helping him to his confession

—the maid had brought tea for her and some brandy and soda for him,

and departed—"that I have been hearing a lot of things about you since I've been back in this country. Aren't you going to tell me all about

yourself? You know I have your real interests at heart."

"What have you been hearing, Letty?" he asked, quietly.

"Oh, about your father's will for one thing, and the fact that you're out of the company, and some gossip about Mrs. Kane which doesn't interest me

very much. You know what I mean. Aren't you going to straighten things

out, so that you can have what rightfully belongs to you? It seems to me

such a great sacrifice, Lester, unless, of course, you are very much in

love. Are you?" she asked archly.

Lester paused and deliberated before replying. "I really don't know how to answer that last question, Letty," he said. "Sometimes I think that I love her; sometimes I wonder whether I do or not. I'm going to be

perfectly frank with you. I was never in such a curious position in my life before. You like me so much, and I— well, I don't say what I think of

you," he smiled. "But, anyhow, I can talk to you frankly. I'm not married."

"I thought as much," she said, as he paused.

"And I'm not married because I have never been able to make up my

mind just what to do about it. When I first met Jennie I thought her the

most entrancing girl I had ever laid eyes on."

"That speaks volumes for my charms at that time," interrupted his vis-avis.

"Don't interrupt me if you want to hear this," he smiled.

"Tell me one thing," she questioned, "and then I won't. Was that in Cleveland?"

"Yes."

"So I heard," she assented.

"There was something about her so—"

"Love at first sight," again interpolated Letty foolishly. Her heart was hurting her. "I know."

"Are you going to let me tell this?"

"Pardon me, Lester. I can't help a twinge or two."

"Well, anyhow, I lost my head. I thought she was the most perfect thing under the sun, even if she was a little out of my world. This is a

democratic country. I thought that I could just take her, and then—well,

you know. That is where I made my mistake. I didn't think that would

prove as serious as it did. I never cared for any other woman but you

before and—I'll be frank—I didn't know whether I wanted to marry you. I

thought I didn't want to marry any woman. I said to myself that I could

just take Jennie, and then, after a while, when things had quieted down

some, we could separate. She would be well provided for. I wouldn't care

very much. She wouldn't care. You understand."

"Yes, I understand," replied his confessor.

"Well, you see, Letty, it hasn't worked out that way. She's a woman of a curious temperament. She possesses a world of feeling and emotion. She's

not educated in the sense in which we understand that word, but she has

natural refinement and tact. She's a good housekeeper. She's an ideal

mother. She's the most affectionate creature under the sun. Her devotion

to her mother and father was beyond words. Her love for her daughter—

she's hers, not mine—is perfect. She hasn't any of the graces of the smart society woman. She isn't quick at repartee. She can't join in any rapid-fire conversation. She thinks rather slowly, I imagine. Some of her big

thoughts never come to the surface at all, but you can feel that she is

thinking and that she is feeling."

"You pay her a lovely tribute, Lester," said Letty.

"I ought to," he replied. "She's a good woman, Letty; but, for all that I have said, I sometimes think that it's only sympathy that's holding me."

"Don't be too sure," she said warningly.

"Yes, but I've gone through with a great deal. The thing for me to have done was to have married her in the first place. There have been so many

entanglements since, so much rowing and discussion, that I've rather lost my bearings. This will of father's complicates matters. I stand to lose

eight hundred thousand if I marry her—really, a great deal more, now that the company has been organised into a trust. I might better say two

millions. If I don't marry her, I lose everything outright in about two more years. Of course, I might pretend that I have separated from her, but I

don't care to lie. I can't work it out that way without hurting her feelings, and she's been the soul of devotion. Right down in my heart, at this

minute, I don't know whether I want to give her up. Honestly, I don't

know what the devil to do."

Lester looked, lit a cigar in a far-off, speculative fashion, and looked out of the window.

"Was there ever such a problem?" questioned Letty, staring at the floor.

She rose, after a few moments of silence, and put her hands on his round, solid head. Her yellow, silken house-gown, faintly scented, touched his

shoulders. "Poor Lester," she said. "You certainly have tied yourself up in a knot. But it's a Gordian knot, my dear, and it will have to be cut. Why don't you discuss this whole thing with her, just as you have with me, and see how she feels about it?"

"It seems such an unkind thing to do," he replied.

"You must take some action, Lester dear," she insisted. "You can't just drift. You are doing yourself such a great injustice. Frankly, I can't advise you to marry her; and I'm not speaking for myself in that, though I'll take you gladly, even if you did forsake me in the first place. I'll be perfectly honest—whether you ever come to me or not—I love you, and always

shall love you."

"I know it," said Lester, getting up. He took her hands in his, and studied her face curiously. Then he turned away. Letty paused to get her breath.

His action discomposed her.

"But you're too big a man, Lester, to settle down on ten thousand a year,"

she continued. "You're too much of a social figure to drift. You ought to get back into the social and financial world where you belong. All that's happened won't injure you, if you reclaim your interest in the company.