Sister Carrie 14 страница

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almost in massy gold and shone upon by the appropriate lights of

sentiment and personality, heightened her charm for them. She was more

than the old Carrie to Drouet. He longed to be at home with her until

he could tell her. He awaited impatiently the end, when they should go

home alone.

Hurstwood, on the contrary, saw in the strength of her new

attractiveness his miserable predicament. He could have cursed the man

beside him. By the Lord, he could not even applaud feelingly as he

would. For once he must simulate when it left a taste in his mouth.

It was in the last act that Carrie's fascination for her lovers assumed

its most effective character.

Hurstwood listened to its progress, wondering when Carrie would come

on. He had not long to wait. The author had used the artifice of

sending all the merry company for a drive, and now Carrie came in

alone. It was the first time that Hurstwood had had a chance to see

her facing the audience quite alone, for nowhere else had she been

without a foil of some sort. He suddenly felt, as she entered, that

her old strength--the power that had grasped him at the end of the

first act--had come back. She seemed to be gaining feeling, now that

the play was drawing to a close and the opportunity for great action

was passing.

" Poor Pearl, " she said, speaking with natural pathos. " It is a sad

thing to want for happiness, but it is a terrible thing to see another

groping about blindly for it, when it is almost within the grasp. "

She was gazing now sadly out upon the open sea, her arm resting

listlessly upon the polished door-post.

Hurstwood began to feel a deep sympathy for her and for himself. He

could almost feel that she was talking to him. He was, by a

combination of feelings and entanglements, almost deluded by that

quality of voice and manner which, like a pathetic strain of music,

seems ever a personal and intimate thing. Pathos has this quality,

that it seems ever addressed to one alone.

" And yet, she can be very happy with him, " went on the little actress.

" Her sunny temper, her joyous face will brighten any home. "

She turned slowly toward the audience without seeing. There was so

much simplicity in her movements that she seemed wholly alone. Then she

found a seat by a table, and turned over some books, devoting a thought

to them.

" With no longings for what I may not have, " she breathed in conclusion-

-and it was almost a sigh--" my existence hidden from all save two in

the wide world, and making my joy out of the joy of that innocent girl

who will soon be his wife. "

Hurstwood was sorry when a character, known as Peach Blossom,

interrupted her. He stirred irritably, for he wished her to go on. He

was charmed by the pale face, the lissome figure, draped in pearl gray,

with a coiled string of pearls at the throat. Carrie had the air of one

who was weary and in need of protection, and, under the fascinating

make-believe of the moment, he rose in feeling until he was ready in

spirit to go to her and ease her out of her misery by adding to his own

delight.

In a moment Carrie was alone again, and was saying, with animation:

" I must return to the city, no matter what dangers may lurk here. I

must go, secretly if I can; openly, if I must. "

There was a sound of horses' hoofs outside, and then Ray's voice

saying: " No, I shall not ride again. Put him up. "

He entered, and then began a scene which had as much to do with the

creation of the tragedy of affection in Hurstwood as anything in his

peculiar and involved career. For Carrie had resolved to make

something of this scene, and, now that the cue had come, it began to

take a feeling hold upon her. Both Hurstwood and Drouet noted the

rising sentiment as she proceeded.

" I thought you had gone with Pearl, " she said to her lover.

" I did go part of the way, but I left the Party a mile down the road. "

" You and Pearl had no disagreement? "

" No--yes; that is, we always have. Our social barometers always stand

at 'cloudy' and 'overcast. '"

" And whose fault is that? " she said, easily.

" Not mine, " he answered, pettishly. " I know I do all I can--I say all

I can--but she----"

This was rather awkwardly put by Patton, but Carrie redeemed it with a

grace which was inspiring.

" But she is your wife, " she said, fixing her whole attention upon the

stilled actor, and softening the quality of her voice until it was

again low and musical. " Ray, my friend, courtship is the text from

which the whole sermon of married life takes its theme. Do not let

yours be discontented and unhappy. "

She put her two little hands together and pressed them appealingly.

Hurstwood gazed with slightly parted lips. Drouet was fidgeting with

satisfaction.

" To be my wife, yes, " went on the actor in a manner which was weak by

comparison, but which could not now spoil the tender atmosphere which

Carrie had created and maintained. She did not seem to feel that he

was wretched. She would have done nearly as well with a block of wood.

The accessories she needed were within her own imagination. The acting

of others could not affect them.

" And you repent already? " she said, slowly.

" I lost you, " he said, seizing her little hand, " and I was at the mercy

of any flirt who chose to give me an inviting look. It was your fault-

-you know it was--why did you leave me? "

Carrie turned slowly away, and seemed to be mastering some impulse in

silence. Then she turned back.

" Ray, " she said, " the greatest happiness I have ever felt has been the

thought that all your affection was forever bestowed upon a virtuous

woman, your equal in family, fortune, and accomplishments. What a

revelation do you make to me now! What is it makes you continually war

with your happiness? "

The last question was asked so simply that it came to the audience and

the lover as a personal thing.

At last it came to the part where the lover exclaimed, " Be to me as you

used to be. "

Carrie answered, with affecting sweetness, " I cannot be that to you,

but I can speak in the spirit of the Laura who is dead to you forever. "

" Be it as you will, " said Patton.

Hurstwood leaned forward. The whole audience was silent and intent.

" Let the woman you look upon be wise or vain, " said Carrie, her eyes

bent sadly upon the lover, who had sunk into a seat, " beautiful or

homely, rich or poor, she has but one thing she can really give or

refuse--her heart. "

Drouet felt a scratch in his throat.

" Her beauty, her wit, her accomplishments, she may sell to you; but her

love is the treasure without money and without price. "

The manager suffered this as a personal appeal. It came to him as if

they were alone, and he could hardly restrain the tears for sorrow over

the hopeless, pathetic, and yet dainty and appealing woman whom he

loved. Drouet also was beside himself. He was resolving that he would

be to Carrie what he had never been before. He would marry her, by

George! She was worth it.

" She asks only in return, " said Carrie, scarcely hearing the small,

scheduled reply of her lover, and putting herself even more in harmony

with the plaintive melody now issuing from the orchestra, " that when

you look upon her your eyes shall speak devotion; that when you address

her your voice shall be gentle, loving, and kind; that you shall not

despise her because she cannot understand all at once your vigorous

thoughts and ambitious designs; for, when misfortune and evil have

defeated your greatest purposes, her love remains to console you. You

look to the trees, " she continued, while Hurstwood restrained his

feelings only by the grimmest repression, " for strength and grandeur;

do not despise the flowers because their fragrance is all they have to

give. Remember, " she concluded, tenderly, " love is all a woman has to

give, " and she laid a strange, sweet accent on the all, " but it is the

only thing which God permits us to carry beyond the grave. "

The two men were in the most harrowed state of affection. They

scarcely heard the few remaining words with which the scene concluded.

They only saw their idol, moving about with appealing grace, continuing

a power which to them was a revelation.

Hurstwood resolved a thousands things, Drouet as well. They joined

equally in the burst of applause which called Carrie out. Drouet

pounded his hands until they ached. Then he jumped up again and

started out. As he went, Carrie came out, and, seeing an immense

basket of flowers being hurried down the aisle toward her she waited.

They were Hurstwood's. She looked toward the manager's box for a

moment, caught his eye, and smiled. He could have leaped out of the

box to enfold her. He forgot the need of circumspectness which his

married state enforced. He almost forgot that he had with him in the

box those who knew him. By the Lord, he would have that lovely girl if

it took his all. He would act at once. This should be the end of

Drouet, and don't you forget it. He would not wait another day. The

drummer should not have her.

He was so excited that he could not stay in the box. He went into the

lobby, and then into the street, thinking. Drouet did not return. In

a few minutes the last act was over, and he was crazy to have Carrie

alone. He cursed the luck that could keep him smiling, bowing,

shamming, when he wanted to tell her that he loved her, when he wanted

to whisper to her alone. He groaned as he saw that his hopes were

futile. He must even take her to supper, shamming. He finally went

about and asked how she was getting along. The actors were all

dressing, talking, hurrying about. Drouet was palavering himself with

the looseness of excitement and passion. The manager mastered himself

only by a great effort.

" We are going to supper, of course, " he said, with a voice that was a

mockery of his heart.

" Oh, yes, " said Carrie, smiling.

The little actress was in fine feather. She was realizing now what it

was to be petted. For once she was the admired, the sought-for. The

independence of success now made its first faint showing. With the

tables turned, she was looking down, rather than up, to her lover. She

did not fully realize that this was so, but there was something in

condescension coming from her which was infinitely sweet. When she was

ready they climbed into the waiting coach and drove down town; once,

only, did she find an opportunity to express her feeling, and that was

when the manager preceded Drouet in the coach and sat beside her.

Before Drouet was fully in she had squeezed Hurstwood's hand in a

gentle, impulsive manner. The manager was beside himself with

affection. He could have sold his soul to be with her alone. " Ah, " he

thought, " the agony of it. "

Drouet hung on, thinking he was all in all. The dinner was spoiled by

his enthusiasm. Hurstwood went home feeling as if he should die if he

did not find affectionate relief. He whispered " to-morrow"

passionately to Carrie, and she understood. He walked away from the

drummer and his prize at parting feeling as if he could slay him and

not regret. Carrie also felt the misery of it.

" Good-night, " he said, simulating an easy friendliness.

" Good-night, " said the little actress, tenderly.

" The fool! " he said, now hating Drouet. " The idiot! I'll do him yet,

and that quick! We'll see to-morrow. "

" Well, if you aren't a wonder, " Drouet was saying, complacently,

squeezing Carrie's arm. " You are the dandiest little girl on earth. "

Chapter XX

THE LURE OF THE SPIRIT--THE FLESH IN PURSUIT

Passion in a man of Hurstwood's nature takes a vigorous form. It is

no musing, dreamy thing. There is none of the tendency to sing outside

of my lady's window--to languish and repine in the face of

difficulties. In the night he was long getting to sleep because of too

much thinking, and in the morning he was early awake, seizing with

alacrity upon the same dear subject and pursuing it with vigor. He was

out of sorts physically, as well as disordered mentally, for did he not

delight in a new manner in his Carrie, and was not Drouet in the way?

Never was man more harassed than he by the thoughts of his love being

held by the elated, flush-mannered drummer. He would have given

anything, it seemed to him, to have the complication ended--to have

Carrie acquiesce to an arrangement which would dispose of Drouet

effectually and forever.

What to do. He dressed thinking. He moved about in the same chamber

with his wife, unmindful of her presence.

At breakfast he found himself without an appetite. The meat to which

he helped himself remained on his plate untouched. His coffee grew

cold, while he scanned the paper indifferently. Here and there he read

a little thing, but remembered nothing. Jessica had not yet come down.

His wife sat at one end of the table revolving thoughts of her own in

silence. A new servant had been recently installed and had forgot the

napkins. On this account the silence was irritably broken by a

reproof.

" I've told you about this before, Maggie, " said Mrs. Hurstwood. " I'm

not going to tell you again. "

Hurstwood took a glance at his wife. She was frowning. Just now her

manner irritated him excessively. Her next remark was addressed to

him.

" Have you made up your mind, George, when you will take your vacation? "

It was customary for them to discuss the regular summer outing at this

season of the year.

" Not yet, " he said, " I'm very busy just now. "

" Well, you'll want to make up your mind pretty soon, won't you, if

we're going? " she returned.

" I guess we have a few days yet, " he said.

" Hmff, " she returned. " Don't wait until the season's over. "

She stirred in aggravation as she said this.

" There you go again, " he observed. " One would think I never did

anything, the way you begin. "

" Well, I want to know about it, " she reiterated.

" You've got a few days yet, " he insisted. " You'll not want to start

before the races are over. "

He was irritated to think that this should come up when he wished to

have his thoughts for other purposes.

" Well, we may. Jessica doesn't want to stay until the end of the

races. "

" What did you want with a season ticket, then? "

" Uh! " she said, using the sound as an exclamation of disgust, " I'll not

argue with you, " and therewith arose to leave the table.

" Say, " he said, rising, putting a note of determination in his voice

which caused her to delay her departure, " what's the matter with you of

late? Can't I talk with you any more? "

" Certainly, you can TALK with me, " she replied, laying emphasis on the

word.

" Well, you wouldn't think so by the way you act. Now, you want to know

when I'll be ready--not for a month yet. Maybe not then. "

" We'll go without you. "

" You will, eh? " he sneered.

" Yes, we will. "

He was astonished at the woman's determination, but it only irritated

him the more.

" Well, we'll see about that. It seems to me you're trying to run

things with a pretty high hand of late. You talk as though you settled

my affairs for me. Well, you don't. You don't regulate anything

that's connected with me. If you want to go, go, but you won't hurry

me by any such talk as that. "

He was thoroughly aroused now. His dark eyes snapped, and he crunched

his paper as he laid it down. Mrs. Hurstwood said nothing more. He

was just finishing when she turned on her heel and went out into the

hall and upstairs. He paused for a moment, as if hesitating, then sat

down and drank a little coffee, and thereafter arose and went for his

hat and gloves upon the main floor.

His wife had really not anticipated a row of this character. She had

come down to the breakfast table feeling a little out of sorts with

herself and revolving a scheme which she had in her mind. Jessica had

called her attention to the fact that the races were not what they were

supposed to be. The social opportunities were not what they had

thought they would be this year. The beautiful girl found going every

day a dull thing. There was an earlier exodus this year of people who

were anybody to the watering places and Europe. In her own circle of

acquaintances several young men in whom she was interested had gone to

Waukesha. She began to feel that she would like to go too, and her

mother agreed with her.

Accordingly, Mrs. Hurstwood decided to broach the subject. She was

thinking this over when she came down to the table, but for some reason

the atmosphere was wrong. She was not sure, after it was all over,

just how the trouble had begun. She was determined now, however, that

her husband was a brute, and that, under no circumstances, would she

let this go by unsettled. She would have more lady-like treatment or

she would know why.

For his part, the manager was loaded with the care of this new argument

until he reached his office and started from there to meet Carrie.

Then the other complications of love, desire, and opposition possessed

him. His thoughts fled on before him upon eagles' wings. He could

hardly wait until he should meet Carrie face to face. What was the

night, after all, without her--what the day? She must and should be

his.

For her part, Carrie had experienced a world of fancy and feeling since

she had left him, the night before. She had listened to Drouet's

enthusiastic meanderings with much regard for that part which concerned

herself, with very little for that which affected his own gain. She

kept him at such lengths as she could, because her thoughts were with

her own triumph. She felt Hurstwood's passion as a delightful

background to her own achievement, and she wondered what he would have

to say. She was sorry for him, too, with that peculiar sorrow which

finds something complimentary to itself in the misery of another. She

was now experiencing the first shades of feeling of that subtle change

which removes one out of the ranks of the suppliants into the lines of

the dispensers of charity. She was, all in all, exceedingly happy.

On the morrow, however, there was nothing in the papers concerning the

event, and, in view of the flow of common, everyday things about, it

now lost a shade of the glow of the previous evening. Drouet himself

was not talking so much OF as FOR her. He felt instinctively that, for

some reason or other, he needed reconstruction in her regard.

" I think, " he said, as he spruced around their chambers the next

morning, preparatory to going down town, " that I'll straighten out that

little deal of mine this month and then we'll get married. I was

talking with Mosher about that yesterday. "

" No, you won't, " said Carrie, who was coming to feel a certain faint

power to jest with the drummer.

" Yes, I will, " he exclaimed, more feelingly than usual, adding, with

the tone of one who pleads, " Don't you believe what I've told you? "

Carrie laughed a little.

" Of course I do, " she answered.

Drouet's assurance now misgave him. Shallow as was his mental

observation, there was that in the things which had happened which made

his little power of analysis useless. Carrie was still with him, but

not helpless and pleading. There was a lilt in her voice which was

new. She did not study him with eyes expressive of dependence. The

drummer was feeling the shadow of something which was coming. It

colored his feelings and made him develop those little attentions and

say those little words which were mere forefendations against danger.

Shortly afterward he departed, and Carrie prepared for her meeting with

Hurstwood. She hurried at her toilet, which was soon made, and

hastened down the stairs. At the corner she passed Drouet, but they

did not see each other.

The drummer had forgotten some bills which he wished to turn into his

house. He hastened up the stairs and burst into the room, but found

only the chambermaid, who was cleaning up.

" Hello, " he exclaimed, half to himself, " has Carrie gone? "

" Your wife? Yes, she went out just a few minutes ago. "

" That's strange, " thought Drouet. " She didn't say a word to me. I

wonder where she went? "

He hastened about, rummaging in his valise for what he wanted, and

finally pocketing it. Then he turned his attention to his fair

neighbor, who was good-looking and kindly disposed towards him.

" What are you up to? " he said, smiling.

" Just cleaning, " she replied, stopping and winding a dusting towel

about her hand.

" Tired of it? "

" Not so very. "

" Let me show you something, " he said, affably, coming over and taking

out of his pocket a little lithographed card which had been issued by a

wholesale tobacco company. On this was printed a picture of a pretty

girl, holding a striped parasol, the colors of which could be changed

by means of a revolving disk in the back, which showed red, yellow,

green, and blue through little interstices made in the ground occupied

by the umbrella top.

" Isn't that clever? " he said, handing it to her and showing her how it

worked. " You never saw anything like that before. "

" Isn't it nice? " she answered.

" You can have it if you want it, " he remarked.

" That's a pretty ring you have, " he said, touching a commonplace

setting which adorned the hand holding the card he had given her.

" Do you think so? "

" That's right, " he answered, making use of a pretence at examination to

secure her finger. " That's fine. "

The ice being thus broken, he launched into further observation

pretending to forget that her fingers were still retained by his. She

soon withdrew them, however, and retreated a few feet to rest against

the window-sill.

" I didn't see you for a long time, " she said, coquettishly, repulsing

one of his exuberant approaches. " You must have been away. "

" I was, " said Drouet.

" Do you travel far? "

" Pretty far--yes. "

" Do you like it? "

" Oh, not very well. You get tired of it after a while. "

" I wish I could travel, " said the girl, gazing idly out of the window.

" What has become of your friend, Mr. Hurstwood? " she suddenly asked,

bethinking herself of the manager, who, from her own observation,

seemed to contain promising material.

" He's here in town. What makes you ask about him? "

" Oh, nothing, only he hasn't been here since you got back. "

" How did you come to know him? "

" Didn't I take up his name a dozen times in the last month? "

" Get out, " said the drummer, lightly. " He hasn't called more than half

a dozen times since we've been here. "

" He hasn't, eh? " said the girl, smiling. " That's all you know about

it. "

Drouet took on a slightly more serious tone. He was uncertain as to

whether she was joking or not.

" Tease, " he said, " what makes you smile that way? "

" Oh, nothing. "

" Have you seen him recently? "

" Not since you came back, " she laughed.

" Before? "

" Certainly. "

" How often? "

" Why, nearly every day. "

She was a mischievous newsmonger, and was keenly wondering what the

effect of her words would be.

" Who did he come to see? " asked the drummer, incredulously.

" Mrs. Drouet. "

He looked rather foolish at this answer, and then attempted to correct

himself so as not to appear a dupe.

" Well, " he said, " what of it? "

" Nothing, " replied the girl, her head cocked coquettishly on one side.

" He's an old friend, " he went on, getting deeper into the mire.

He would have gone on further with his little flirtation, but the taste

for it was temporarily removed. He was quite relieved when the girl's

named was called from below.

" I've got to go, " she said, moving away from him airily.

" I'll see you later, " he said, with a pretence of disturbance at being

interrupted.

When she was gone, he gave freer play to his feelings. His face, never

easily controlled by him, expressed all the perplexity and disturbance

which he felt. Could it be that Carrie had received so many visits and

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