บทที่ บทที่ 39 · During this period the dissatisfaction of the Kane family with

Lester's irregular habit of life grew steadily stronger. That it could

not help but become an open scandal, in the course of time, was

sufficiently obvious to them. Rumors were already going about. People

seemed to understand in a wise way, though nothing was ever said

directly. Kane senior could scarcely imagine what possessed his son to

fly in the face of conventions in this manner. If the woman had been

some one of distinction--some sorceress of the stage, or of the

world of art, or letters, his action would have been explicable if not

commendable, but with this creature of very ordinary capabilities, as

Louise had described her, this putty-faced nobody--he could not

possibly understand it.

Lester was his son, his favorite son; it was too bad that he had

not settled down in the ordinary way. Look at the women in Cincinnati

who knew him and liked him. Take Letty Pace, for instance. Why in the

name of common sense had he not married her? She was good looking,

sympathetic, talented. The old man grieved bitterly, and then, by

degrees, he began to harden. It seemed a shame that Lester should

treat him so. It wasn't natural, or justifiable, or decent. Archibald

Kane brooded over it until he felt that some change ought to be

enforced, but just what it should be he could not say. Lester was his

own boss, and he would resent any criticism of his actions.

Apparently, nothing could be done.

Certain changes helped along an approaching denouement. Louise

married not many months after her very disturbing visit to Chicago,

and then the home property was fairly empty except for visiting

grandchildren. Lester did not attend the wedding, though he was

invited. For another thing, Mrs. Kane died, making a readjustment of

the family will necessary. Lester came home on this occasion, grieved

to think he had lately seen so little of his mother--that he had

caused her so much pain--but he had no explanation to make. His

father thought at the time of talking to him, but put it off because

of his obvious gloom. He went back to Chicago, and there were more

months of silence.

After Mrs. Kane's death and Louise's marriage, the father went to

live with Robert, for his three grandchildren afforded him his

greatest pleasure in his old age. The business, except for the final

adjustment which would come after his death, was in Robert's hands.

The latter was consistently agreeable to his sisters and their

husbands and to his father, in view of the eventual control he hoped

to obtain. He was not a sycophant in any sense of the word, but a

shrewd, cold business man, far shrewder than his brother gave him

credit for. He was already richer than any two of the other children

put together, but he chose to keep his counsel and to pretend modesty

of fortune. He realized the danger of envy, and preferred a Spartan

form of existence, putting all the emphasis on inconspicuous but very

ready and very hard cash. While Lester was drifting Robert was

working--working all the time.

Robert's scheme for eliminating his brother from participation in

the control of the business was really not very essential, for his

father, after long brooding over the details of the Chicago situation,

had come to the definite conclusion that any large share of his

property ought not to go to Lester. Obviously, Lester was not so

strong a man as he had thought him to be. Of the two brothers, Lester

might be the bigger intellectually or

sympathetically--artistically and socially there was no

comparison--but Robert got commercial results in a silent,

effective way. If Lester was not going to pull himself together at

this stage of the game, when would he? Better leave his property to

those who would take care of it. Archibald Kane thought seriously of

having his lawyer revise his will in such a way that, unless Lester

should reform, he would be cut off with only a nominal income. But he

decided to give Lester one more chance--to make a plea, in fact,

that he should abandon his false way of living, and put himself on a

sound basis before the world. It wasn't too late. He really had a

great future. Would he deliberately choose to throw it away? Old

Archibald wrote Lester that he would like to have a talk with him at

his convenience, and within the lapse of thirty-six hours Lester was

in Cincinnati.

"I thought I'd have one more talk with you, Lester, on a subject

that's rather difficult for me to bring up," began the elder Kane.

"You know what I'm referring to?"

"Yes, I know," replied Lester, calmly.

"I used to think, when I was much younger that my son's matrimonial

ventures would never concern me, but I changed my views on that score

when I got a little farther along. I began to see through my business

connections how much the right sort of a marriage helps a man, and

then I got rather anxious that my boys should marry well. I used to

worry about you, Lester, and I'm worrying yet. This recent connection

you've made has caused me no end of trouble. It worried your mother up

to the very last. It was her one great sorrow. Don't you think you

have gone far enough with it? The scandal has reached down here. What

it is in Chicago I don't know, but it can't be a secret. That can't

help the house in business there. It certainly can't help you. The

whole thing has gone on so long that you have injured your prospects

all around, and yet you continue. Why do you?"

"I suppose because I love her," Lester replied.

"You can't be serious in that," said his father. "If you had loved

her, you'd have married her in the first place. Surely you wouldn't

take a woman and live with her as you have with this woman for years,

disgracing her and yourself, and still claim that you love her. You

may have a passion for her, but it isn't love."

"How do you know I haven't married her?" inquired Lester coolly. He

wanted to see how his father would take to that idea.

"You're not serious!" The old gentleman propped himself up on his

arms and looked at him.

"No, I'm not," replied Lester, "but I might be. I might marry

her."

"Impossible!" exclaimed his father vigorously. "I can't believe it.

I can't believe a man of your intelligence would do a thing like that,

Lester. Where is your judgment? Why, you've lived in open adultery

with her for years, and now you talk of marrying her. Why, in heaven's

name, if you were going to do anything like that, didn't you do it in

the first place? Disgrace your parents, break your mother's heart,

injure the business, become a public scandal, and then marry the cause

of it? I don't believe it."

Old Archibald got up.

"Don't get excited, father," said Lester quickly. "We won't get

anywhere that way. I say I might marry her. She's not a bad woman, and

I wish you wouldn't talk about her as you do. You've never seen her.

You know nothing about her."

"I know enough," insisted old Archibald, determinedly. "I know that

no good woman would act as she has done. Why, man, she's after your

money. What else could she want? It's as plain as the nose on your

face."

"Father," said Lester, his voice lowering ominously, "why do you

talk like that? You never saw the woman. You wouldn't know her from

Adam's off ox. Louise comes down here and gives an excited report, and

you people swallow it whole. She isn't as bad as you think she is, and

I wouldn't use the language you're using about her if I were you.

You're doing a good woman an injustice, and you won't, for some

reason, be fair."

"Fair! Fair!" interrupted Archibald. "Talk about being fair. Is it

fair to me, to your family, to your dead mother to take a woman of the

streets and live with her? Is it--"

"Stop now, father," exclaimed Lester, putting up his hand. "I warn

you. I won't listen to talk like that. You're talking about the woman

that I'm living with--that I may marry. I love you, but I won't

have you saying things that aren't so. She isn't a woman of the

streets. You know, as well as you know anything, that I wouldn't take

up with a woman of that kind. We'll have to discuss this in a calmer

mood, or I won't stay here. I'm sorry. I'm awfully sorry. But I won't

listen to any such language as that."

Old Archibald quieted himself. In spite of his opposition, he

respected his son's point of view. He sat back in his chair and stared

at the floor. "How was he to handle this thing?" he asked himself.

"Are you living in the same place?" he finally inquired.

"No, we've moved out to Hyde Park. I've taken a house out

there."

"I hear there's a child. Is that yours?"

"No."

"Have you any children of your own?"

"No."

"Well, that's a God's blessing."

Lester merely scratched his chin.

"And you insist you will marry her?" Archibald went on.

"I didn't say that," replied his son. "I said I might."

"Might! Might!" exclaimed his father, his anger bubbling again.

"What a tragedy! You with your prospects! Your outlook! How do you

suppose I can seriously contemplate entrusting any share of my fortune

to a man who has so little regard for what the world considers as

right and proper? Why, Lester, this carriage business, your family,

your personal reputation appear to be as nothing at all to you. I

can't understand what has happened to your pride. It seems like some

wild, impossible fancy."

"It's pretty hard to explain, father, and I can't do it very well.

I simply know that I'm in this affair, and that I'm bound to see it

through. It may come out all right. I may not marry her--I may.

I'm not prepared now to say what I'll do. You'll have to wait. I'll do

the best I can."

Old Archibald merely shook his head disapprovingly.

"You've made a bad mess of this, Lester," he said finally. "Surely

you have. But I suppose you are determined to go your way. Nothing

that I have said appears to move you."

"Not now, father. I'm sorry."

"Well, I warn you, then, that, unless you show some consideration

for the dignity of your family and the honor of your position it will

make a difference in my will. I can't go on countenancing this thing,

and not be a party to it morally and every other way. I won't do it.

You can leave her, or you can marry her. You certainly ought to do one

or the other. If you leave her, everything will be all right. You can

make any provision for her you like. I have no objection to that. I'll

gladly pay whatever you agree to. You will share with the rest of the

children, just as I had planned. If you marry her it will make a

difference. Now do as you please. But don't blame me. I love you. I'm

your father. I'm doing what I think is my bounden duty. Now you think

that over and let me know."

Lester sighed. He saw how hopeless this argument was. He felt that

his father probably meant what he said, but how could he leave Jennie,

and justify himself to himself? Would his father really cut him off?

Surely not. The old gentleman loved him even now--he could see

it. Lester felt troubled and distressed; this attempt at coercion

irritated him. The idea--he, Lester Kane, being made to do such a

thing to throw Jennie down. He stared at the floor.

Old Archibald saw that he had let fly a telling bullet.

"Well," said Lester finally, "there's no use of our discussing it

any further now--that's certain, isn't it? I can't say what I'll

do. I'll have to take time and think. I can't decide this

offhand."

The two looked at each other. Lester was sorry for the world's

attitude and for his father's keen feeling about the affair. Kane

senior was sorry for his son, but he was determined to see the thing

through. He wasn't sure whether he had converted Lester or not, but he

was hopeful. Maybe he would come around yet.

"Good-by, father," said Lester, holding out his hand. "I think I'll

try and make that two-ten train. There isn't anything else you wanted

to see me about?"

"No."

The old man sat there after Lester had gone, thinking deeply. What

a twisted career! What an end to great possibilities? What a foolhardy

persistence in evil and error! He shook his head. Robert was wiser. He

was the one to control a business. He was cool and conservative. If

Lester were only like that. He thought and thought. It was a long time

before he stirred. And still, in the bottom of his heart, his erring

son continued to appeal to him.