Kabanata Kabanata 32 · The following spring the show-rooms and warehouse were completed,

and Lester removed his office to the new building. Heretofore, he had

been transacting all his business affairs at the Grand Pacific and the

club. From now on he felt himself to be firmly established in

Chicago--as if that was to be his future home. A large number of

details were thrown upon him--the control of a considerable

office force, and the handling of various important transactions. It

took away from him the need of traveling, that duty going to Amy's

husband, under the direction of Robert. The latter was doing his best

to push his personal interests, not only through the influence he was

bringing to bear upon his sisters, but through his reorganization of

the factory. Several men whom Lester was personally fond of were in

danger of elimination. But Lester did not hear of this, and Kane

senior was inclined to give Robert a free hand. Age was telling on

him. He was glad to see some one with a strong policy come up and take

charge. Lester did not seem to mind. Apparently he and Robert were on

better terms than ever before.

Matters might have gone on smoothly enough were it not for the fact

that Lester's private life with Jennie was not a matter which could be

permanently kept under cover. At times he was seen driving with her by

people who knew him in a social and commercial way. He was for

brazening it out on the ground that he was a single man, and at

liberty to associate with anybody he pleased. Jennie might be any

young woman of good family in whom he was interested. He did not

propose to introduce her to anybody if he could help it, and he always

made it a point to be a fast traveler in driving, in order that others

might not attempt to detain and talk to him. At the theater, as has

been said, she was simply "Miss Gerhardt."

The trouble was that many of his friends were also keen observers

of life. They had no quarrel to pick with Lester's conduct. Only he

had been seen in other cities, in times past, with this same woman.

She must be some one whom he was maintaining irregularly. Well, what

of it? Wealth and youthful spirits must have their fling. Rumors came

to Robert, who, however, kept his own counsel. If Lester wanted to do

this sort of thing, well and good. But there must come a time when

there would be a show-down.

This came about in one form about a year and a half after Lester

and Jennie had been living in the north side apartment. It so happened

that, during a stretch of inclement weather in the fall, Lester was

seized with a mild form of grip. When he felt the first symptoms he

thought that his indisposition would be a matter of short duration,

and tried to overcome it by taking a hot bath and a liberal dose of

quinine. But the infection was stronger than he counted on; by morning

he was flat on his back, with a severe fever and a splitting

headache.

His long period of association with Jennie had made him incautious.

Policy would have dictated that he should betake himself to his hotel

and endure his sickness alone. As a matter of fact, he was very glad

to be in the house with her. He had to call up the office to say that

he was indisposed and would not be down for a day or so; then he

yielded himself comfortably to her patient ministrations.

Jennie, of course, was delighted to have Lester with her, sick or

well. She persuaded him to see a doctor and have him prescribe. She

brought him potions of hot lemonade, and bathed his face and hands in

cold water over and over. Later, when he was recovering, she made him

appetizing cups of beef-tea or gruel.

It was during this illness that the first real contretemps

occurred. Lester's sister Louise, who had been visiting friends in St.

Paul, and who had written him that she might stop off to see him on

her way, decided upon an earlier return than she had originally

planned. While Lester was sick at his apartment she arrived in

Chicago. Calling up the office, and finding that he was not there and

would not be down for several days, she asked where he could be

reached.

"I think he is at his rooms in the Grand Pacific," said an

incautious secretary. "He's not feeling well." Louise, a little

disturbed, telephoned to the Grand Pacific, and was told that Mr. Kane

had not been there for several days--did not, as a matter of

fact, occupy his rooms more than one or two days a week. Piqued by

this, she telephoned his club.

It so happened that at the club there was a telephone boy who had

called up the apartment a number of times for Lester himself. He had

not been cautioned not to give its number--as a matter of fact,

it had never been asked for by any one else. When Louise stated that

she was Lester's sister, and was anxious to find him, the boy replied,

"I think he lives at 19 Schiller Place."

"Whose address is that you're giving?" inquired a passing

clerk.

"Mr. Kane's."

"Well, don't be giving out addresses. Don't you know that yet?"

The boy apologized, but Louise had hung up the receiver and was

gone.

About an hour later, curious as to this third residence of her

brother, Louise arrived at Schiller Place. Ascending the

steps--it was a two-apartment house--she saw the name of

Kane on the door leading to the second floor. Ringing the bell, she

was opened to by Jennie, who was surprised to see so fashionably

attired a young woman.

"This is Mr. Kane's apartment, I believe," began Louise,

condescendingly, as she looked in at the open door behind Jennie. She

was a little surprised to meet a young woman, but her suspicions were

as yet only vaguely aroused.

"Yes," replied Jennie.

"He's sick, I believe. I'm his sister. May I come in?"

Jennie, had she had time to collect her thoughts, would have tried

to make some excuse, but Louise, with the audacity of her birth and

station, swept past before Jennie could say a word. Once inside Louise

looked about her inquiringly. She found herself in the sitting-room,

which gave into the bedroom where Lester was lying. Vesta happened to

be playing in one corner of the room, and stood up to eye the

new-comer. The open bedroom showed Lester quite plainly lying in bed,

a window to the left of him, his eyes closed.

"Oh, there you are, old fellow!" exclaimed Louise. "What's ailing

you?" she hurried on.

Lester, who at the sound of her voice had opened his eyes, realized

in an instant how things were. He pulled himself up on one elbow, but

words failed him.

"Why, hello, Louise," he finally forced himself to say. "Where did

you come from?"

"St. Paul. I came back sooner than I thought," she answered lamely,

a sense of something wrong irritating her. "I had a hard time finding

you, too. Who's your--" she was about to say "pretty

housekeeper," but turned to find Jennie dazedly gathering up certain

articles in the adjoining room and looking dreadfully distraught.

Lester cleared his throat hopelessly.

His sister swept the place with an observing eye. It took in the

home atmosphere, which was both pleasing and suggestive. There was a

dress of Jennie's lying across a chair, in a familiar way, which

caused Miss Kane to draw herself up warily. She looked at her brother,

who had a rather curious expression in his eyes--he seemed

slightly nonplussed, but cool and defiant.

"You shouldn't have come out here," said Lester finally, before

Louise could give vent to the rising question in her mind.

"Why shouldn't I?" she exclaimed, angered at the brazen confession.

"You're my brother, aren't you? Why should you have any place that I

couldn't come. Well, I like that--and from you to me."

"Listen, Louise," went on Lester, drawing himself up further on one

elbow. "You know as much about life as I do. There is no need of our

getting into an argument. I didn't know you were coming, or I would

have made other arrangements."

"Other arrangements, indeed," she sneered. "I should think as much.

The idea!"

She was greatly irritated to think that she had fallen into this

trap; it was really disgraceful of Lester.

"I wouldn't be so haughty about it," he declared, his color rising.

"I'm not apologizing to you for my conduct. I'm saying I would have

made other arrangements, which is a very different thing from begging

your pardon. If you don't want to be civil, you needn't."

"Why, Lester Kane!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flaming. "I thought

better of you, honestly I did. I should think you would be ashamed of

yourself living here in open--" she paused without using the

word--"and our friends scattered all over the city. It's

terrible! I thought you had more sense of decency and

consideration."

"Decency nothing," he flared. "I tell you I'm not apologizing to

you. If you don't like this you know what you can do."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "This from my own brother! And for the sake of

that creature! Whose child is that?" she demanded, savagely and yet

curiously.

"Never mind, it's not mine. If it were it wouldn't make any

difference. I wish you wouldn't busy yourself about my affairs."

Jennie, who had been moving about the dining-room beyond the

sitting-room, heard the cutting references to herself. She winced with

pain.

"Don't flatter yourself. I won't any more," retorted Louise. "I

should think, though, that you, of all men, would be above anything

like this--and that with a woman so obviously beneath you. Why, I

thought she was--" she was again going to add "your housekeeper,"

but she was interrupted by Lester, who was angry to the point of

brutality.

"Never mind what you thought she was," he growled. "She's better

than some who do the so-called superior thinking. I know what you

think. It's neither here nor there, I tell you. I'm doing this, and I

don't care what you think. I have to take the blame. Don't bother

about me."

"Well, I won't, I assure you," she flung back. "It's quite plain

that your family means nothing to you. But if you had any sense of

decency, Lester Kane, you would never let your sister be trapped into

coming into a place like this. I'm disgusted, that's all, and so will

the others be when they hear of it."

She turned on her heel and walked scornfully out, a withering look

being reserved for Jennie, who had unfortunately stepped near the door

of the dining-room. Vesta had disappeared. Jennie came in a little

while later and closed the door. She knew of nothing to say. Lester,

his thick hair pushed back from his vigorous face, leaned back moodily

on his pillow. "What a devilish trick of fortune," he thought. Now she

would go home and tell it to the family. His father would know, and

his mother. Robert, Imogene, Amy all would hear. He would have no

explanation to make--she had seen. He stared at the wall

meditatively.

Meanwhile Jennie, moving about her duties, also found food for

reflection. So this was her real position in another woman's eyes. Now

she could see what the world thought. This family was as aloof from

her as if it lived on another planet. To his sisters and brothers, his

father and mother, she was a bad woman, a creature far beneath him

socially, far beneath him mentally and morally, a creature of the

streets. And she had hoped somehow to rehabilitate herself in the eyes

of the world. It cut her as nothing before had ever done. The thought

tore a great, gaping wound in her sensibilities. She was really low

and vile in her--Louise's--eyes, in the world's eyes,

basically so in Lester's eyes. How could it be otherwise? She went

about numb and still, but the ache of defeat and disgrace was under it

all. Oh, if she could only see some way to make herself right with the

world, to live honorably, to be decent. How could that possibly be

brought about? It ought to be--she knew that. But how?