Kabanata Kabanata 37 · The plan for a residence in Hyde Park was not long in taking shape.

After several weeks had passed, and things had quieted down again,

Lester invited Jennie to go with him to South Hyde Park to look for a

house. On the first trip they found something which seemed to suit

admirably--an old-time home of eleven large rooms, set in a lawn

fully two hundred feet square and shaded by trees which had been

planted when the city was young. It was ornate, homelike, peaceful.

Jennie was fascinated by the sense of space and country, although

depressed by the reflection that she was not entering her new home

under the right auspices. She had vaguely hoped that in planning to go

away she was bringing about a condition under which Lester might have

come after her and married her. Now all that was over. She had

promised to stay, and she would have to make the best of it. She

suggested that they would never know what to do with so much room, but

he waved that aside. "We will very likely have people in now and

then," he said. "We can furnish it up anyhow, and see how it looks."

He had the agent make out a five-year lease, with an option for

renewal, and set at once the forces to work to put the establishment

in order.

The house was painted and decorated, the lawn put in order, and

everything done to give the place a trim and satisfactory appearance.

There was a large, comfortable library and sitting-room, a big

dining-room, a handsome reception-hall, a parlor, a large kitchen,

serving-room, and in fact all the ground-floor essentials of a

comfortable home. On the second floor were bedrooms, baths, and the

maid's room. It was all very comfortable and harmonious, and Jennie

took an immense pride and pleasure in getting things in order.

Immediately after moving in, Jennie, with Lester's permission,

wrote to her father asking him to come to her. She did not say that

she was married, but left it to be inferred. She descanted on the

beauty of the neighborhood, the size of the yard, and the manifold

conveniences of the establishment. "It is so very nice," she added,

"you would like it, papa. Vesta is here and goes to school every day.

Won't you come and stay with us? It's so much better than living in a

factory. And I would like to have you so."

Gerhardt read this letter with a solemn countenance, Was it really

true? Would they be taking a larger house if they were not permanently

united? After all these years and all this lying? Could he have been

mistaken? Well, it was high time--but should he go? He had lived

alone this long time now--should he go to Chicago and live with

Jennie? Her appeal did touch him, but somehow he decided against it.

That would be too generous an acknowledgment of the fact that there

had been fault on his side as well as on hers.

Jennie was disappointed at Gerhardt's refusal. She talked it over

with Lester, and decided that she would go on to Cleveland and see

him. Accordingly, she made the trip, hunted up the factory, a great

rumbling furniture concern in one of the poorest sections of the city,

and inquired at the office for her father. The clerk directed her to a

distant warehouse, and Gerhardt was informed that a lady wished to see

him. He crawled out of his humble cot and came down, curious as to who

it could be. When Jennie saw him in his dusty, baggy clothes, his hair

gray, his eye brows shaggy, coming out of the dark door, a keen sense

of the pathetic moved her again. "Poor papa!" she thought. He came

toward her, his inquisitorial eye softened a little by his

consciousness of the affection that had inspired her visit. "What are

you come for?" he asked cautiously.

"I want you to come home with me, papa," she pleaded yearningly. "I

don't want you to stay here any more. I can't think of you living

alone any longer."

"So," he said, nonplussed, "that brings you?"

"Yes," she replied; "Won't you? Don't stay here."

"I have a good bed," he explained by way of apology for his

state.

"I know," she replied, "but we have a good home now and Vesta is

there. Won't you come? Lester wants you to."

"Tell me one thing," he demanded. "Are you married?"

"Yes," she replied, lying hopelessly. "I have been married a long

time. You can ask Lester when you come." She could scarcely look him

in the face, but she managed somehow, and he believed her.

"Well," he said, "it is time."

"Won't you come, papa?" she pleaded.

He threw out his hands after his characteristic manner. The urgency

of her appeal touched him to the quick. "Yes, I come," he said, and

turned; but she saw by his shoulders what was happening. He was

crying.

"Now, papa?" she pleaded.

For answer he walked back into the dark warehouse to get his

things.