Chương Chương 33 · Outraged in her family pride, Louise lost no time in returning to

Cincinnati, where she told the story of her discovery, embellished

with many details. According to her, she was met at the door by a

"silly-looking, white-faced woman," who did not even offer to invite

her in when she announced her name, but stood there "looking just as

guilty as a person possibly could." Lester also had acted shamefully,

having outbrazened the matter to her face. When she had demanded to

know whose the child was he had refused to tell her. "It isn't mine,"

was all he would say.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Kane, who was the first to hear

the story. "My son, my Lester! How could he have done it!"

"And such a creature!" exclaimed Louise emphatically, as though the

words needed to be reiterated to give them any shadow of reality.

"I went there solely because I thought I could help him," continued

Louise. "I thought when they said he was indisposed that he might be

seriously ill. How should I have known?"

"Poor Lester!" exclaimed her mother. "To think he would come to

anything like that!"

Mrs. Kane turned the difficult problem over in her mind and, having

no previous experiences whereby to measure it, telephoned for old

Archibald, who came out from the factory and sat through the

discussion with a solemn countenance. So Lester was living openly with

a woman of whom they had never heard. He would probably be as defiant

and indifferent as his nature was strong. The standpoint of parental

authority was impossible. Lester was a centralized authority in

himself, and if any overtures for a change of conduct were to be made,

they would have to be very diplomatically executed.

Archibald Kane returned to the manufactory sore and disgusted, but

determined that something ought to be done. He held a consultation

with Robert, who confessed that he had heard disturbing rumors from

time to time, but had not wanted to say anything. Mrs. Kane suggested

that Robert might go to Chicago and have a talk with Lester.

"He ought to see that this thing, if continued, is going to do him

irreparable damage," said Mr. Kane. "He cannot hope to carry it off

successfully. Nobody can. He ought to marry her or he ought to quit. I

want you to tell him that for me."

"All well and good," said Robert, "but who's going to convince him?

I'm sure I don't want the job."

"I hope to," said old Archibald, "eventually; but you'd better go

up and try, anyhow. It can't do any harm. He might come to his

senses."

"I don't believe it," replied Robert. "He's a strong man. You see

how much good talk does down here. Still, I'll go if it will relieve

your feelings any. Mother wants it."

"Yes, yes," said his father distractedly, "better go."

Accordingly Robert went. Without allowing himself to anticipate any

particular measure of success in this adventure, he rode pleasantly

into Chicago confident in the reflection that he had all the powers of

morality and justice on his side.

Upon Robert's arrival, the third morning after Louise's interview,

he called up the warerooms, but Lester was not there. He then

telephoned to the house, and tactfully made an appointment. Lester was

still indisposed, but he preferred to come down to the office, and he

did. He met Robert in his cheerful, nonchalant way, and together they

talked business for a time. Then followed a pregnant silence.

"Well, I suppose you know what brought me up here," began Robert

tentatively.

"I think I could make a guess at it," Lester replied.

"They were all very much worried over the fact that you were

sick--mother particularly. You're not in any danger of having a

relapse, are you?"

"I think not."

"Louise said there was some sort of a peculiar menage

she ran into up here. You're not married, are you?"

"No."

"The young woman Louise saw is just--" Robert waved his hand

expressively.

Lester nodded.

"I don't want to be inquisitive, Lester. I didn't come up for that.

I'm simply here because the family felt that I ought to come. Mother

was so very much distressed that I couldn't do less than see you for

her sake"--he paused, and Lester, touched by the fairness and

respect of his attitude, felt that mere courtesy at least made some

explanation due.

"I don't know that anything I can say will help matters much," he

replied thoughtfully. "There's really nothing to be said. I have the

woman and the family has its objections. The chief difficulty about

the thing seems to be the bad luck in being found out."

He stopped, and Robert turned over the substance of this worldly

reasoning in his mind. Lester was very calm about it. He seemed, as

usual, to be most convincingly sane.

"You're not contemplating marrying her, are you?" queried Robert

hesitatingly.

"I hadn't come to that," answered Lester coolly.

They looked at each other quietly for a moment, and then Robert

turned his glance to the distant scene of the city.

"It's useless to ask whether you are seriously in love with her, I

suppose," ventured Robert.

"I don't know whether I'd be able to discuss that divine afflatus

with you or not," returned Lester, with a touch of grim humor. "I have

never experienced the sensation myself. All I know is that the lady is

very pleasing to me."

"Well, it's all a question of your own well-being and the family's,

Lester," went on Robert, after another pause. "Morality doesn't seem

to figure in it anyway--at least you and I can't discuss that

together. Your feelings on that score naturally relate to you alone.

But the matter of your own personal welfare seems to me to be

substantial enough ground to base a plea on. The family's feelings and

pride are also fairly important. Father's the kind of a man who sets

more store by the honor of his family than most men. You know that as

well as I do, of course."

"I know how father feels about it," returned Lester. "The whole

business is as clear to me as it is to any of you, though off-hand I

don't see just what's to be done about it. These matters aren't always

of a day's growth, and they can't be settled in a day. The girl's

here. To a certain extent I'm responsible that she is here. While I'm

not willing to go into details, there's always more in these affairs

than appears on the court calendar."

"Of course I don't know what your relations with her have been,"

returned Robert, "and I'm not curious to know, but it does look like a

bit of injustice all around, don't you think--unless you intend

to marry her?" This last was put forth as a feeler.

"I might be willing to agree to that, too," was Lester's baffling

reply, "if anything were to be gained by it. The point is, the woman

is here, and the family is in possession of the fact. Now if there is

anything to be done I have to do it. There isn't anybody else who can

act for me in this matter."

Lester lapsed into a silence, and Robert rose and paced the floor,

coming back after a time to say: "You say you haven't any idea of

marrying her--or rather you haven't come to it. I wouldn't,

Lester. It seems to me you would be making the mistake of your life,

from every point of view. I don't want to orate, but a man of your

position has so much to lose; you can't afford to do it. Aside from

family considerations, you have too much at stake. You'd be simply

throwing your life away--"

He paused, with his right hand held out before him, as was

customary when he was deeply in earnest, and Lester felt the candor

and simplicity of this appeal. Robert was not criticizing him now. He

was making an appeal to him, and this was somewhat different.

The appeal passed without comment, however, and then Robert began

on a new tack, this time picturing old Archibald's fondness for Lester

and the hope he had always entertained that he would marry some

well-to-do Cincinnati girl, Catholic, if agreeable to him, but at

least worthy of his station. And Mrs. Kane felt the same way; surely

Lester must realize that.

"I know just how all of them feel about it," Lester interrupted at

last, "but I don't see that anything's to be done right now."

"You mean that you don't think it would be policy for you to give

her up just at present?"

"I mean that she's been exceptionally good to me, and that I'm

morally under obligations to do the best I can by her. What that may

be, I can't tell."

"To live with her?" inquired Robert coolly.

"Certainly not to turn her out bag and baggage if she has been

accustomed to live with me," replied Lester.

Robert sat down again, as if he considered his recent appeal

futile.

"Can't family reasons persuade you to make some amicable

arrangements with her and let her go?"

"Not without due consideration of the matter; no."

"You don't think you could hold out some hope that the thing will

end quickly--something that would give me a reasonable excuse for

softening down the pain of it to the family?"

"I would be perfectly willing to do anything which would take away

the edge of this thing for the family, but the truth's the truth, and

I can't see any room for equivocation between you and me. As I've said

before, these relationships are involved with things which make it

impossible to discuss them--unfair to me, unfair to the woman. No

one can see how they are to be handled, except the people that are in

them, and even they can't always see. I'd be a damned dog to stand up

here and give you my word to do anything except the best I can."

Lester stopped, and now Robert rose and paced the floor again, only

to come back after a time and say, "You don't think there's anything

to be done just at present?"

"Not at present."

"Very well, then, I expect I might as well be going. I don't know

that there's anything else we can talk about."

"Won't you stay and take lunch with me? I think I might manage to

get down to the hotel if you'll stay."

"No, thank you," answered Robert. "I believe I can make that one

o'clock train for Cincinnati. I'll try, anyhow."

They stood before each other now, Lester pale and rather flaccid,

Robert clear, wax-like, well-knit, and shrewd, and one could see the

difference time had already made. Robert was the clean, decisive man,

Lester the man of doubts. Robert was the spirit of business energy and

integrity embodied, Lester the spirit of commercial self-sufficiency,

looking at life with an uncertain eye. Together they made a striking

picture, which was none the less powerful for the thoughts that were

now running through their minds.

"Well," said the older brother, after a time, "I don't suppose

there is anything more I can say. I had hoped to make you feel just as

we do about this thing, but of course you are your own best judge of

this. If you don't see it now, nothing I could say would make you. It

strikes me as a very bad move on your part though."

Lester listened. He said nothing, but his face expressed an

unchanged purpose.

Robert turned for his hat, and they walked to the office door

together.

"I'll put the best face I can on it," said Robert, and walked

out.