“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.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
Gerhardt, having become an inmate of the Hyde Park home, at once bestirred himself about the labors which he felt instinctively concerned him. He took charge of the furnace and the yard, outraged at the thought that good money should be paid to any outsider when he had nothing to do. The trees, he declared to Jennie, were in a dreadful condition. If Lester would get him a pruning knife and a saw he would attend to them in the spring. In Germany they knew how to care for such things, but these Americans were so shiftless. Then he wanted tools and nails, and in time all the closets and shelves were put in order. He found a Lutheran Church almost two miles away, and declared that it was better than the one in Cleveland. The pastor, of course, was a heaven-sent son of divinity. And nothing would do but that Vesta must go to church with him regularly.
Jennie and Lester settled down into the new order of living with some misgivings; certain difficulties were sure to arise. On the North Side it had been easy for Jennie to shun neighbors and say nothing. Now they were occupying a house of some pretensions; their immediate neighbors would feel it their duty to call, and Jennie would have to play the part of an experienced hostess. She and Lester had talked this situation over. It might as well be understood here, he said, that they were husband and wife. Vesta was to be introduced as Jennie’s daughter by her first marriage, her husband, a Mr. Stover (her mother’s maiden name), having died immediately after the child’s birth. Lester, of course, was the stepfather. This particular neighborhood was so far from the fashionable heart of Chicago that Lester did not expect to run into many of his friends. He explained to Jennie the ordinary formalities of social intercourse, so that when the first visitor called Jennie might be prepared to receive her. Within a fortnight this first visitor arrived in the person of Mrs. Jacob Stendahl, a woman of considerable importance in this particular section. She lived five doors from Jennie—the houses of the neighborhood were all set in spacious lawns—and drove up in her carriage, on her return from her shopping, one afternoon.
“Is Mrs. Kane in?” she asked of Jeannette, the new maid.
“I think so, mam,” answered the girl. “Won’t you let me have your card?”
The card was given and taken to Jennie, who looked at it curiously.
When Jennie came into the parlor Mrs. Stendahl, a tall dark, inquisitive-looking woman, greeted her most cordially.
“I thought I would take the liberty of intruding on you,” she said most winningly. “I am one of your neighbors. I live on the other side of the street, some few doors up. Perhaps you have seen the house—the one with the white stone gate-posts.”
“Oh, yes indeed,” replied Jennie. “I know it well. Mr. Kane and I were admiring it the first day we came out here.”
“I know of your husband, of course, by reputation. My husband is connected with the Wilkes Frog and Switch Company.”
Jennie bowed her head. She knew that the latter concern must be something important and profitable from the way in which Mrs. Stendahl spoke of it.
“We have lived here quite a number of years, and I know how you must feel coming as a total stranger to a new section of the city. I hope you will find time to come in and see me some afternoon. I shall be most pleased. My regular reception day is Thursday.”
“Indeed I shall,” answered Jennie, a little nervously, for the ordeal was a trying one. “I appreciate your goodness in calling. Mr. Kane is very busy as a rule, but when he is at home I am sure he would be most pleased to meet you and your husband.”
“You must both come over some evening,” replied Mrs. Stendahl. “We lead a very quiet life. My husband is not much for social gatherings. But we enjoy our neighborhood friends.”
Jennie smiled her assurances of good-will. She accompanied Mrs. Stendahl to the door, and shook hands with her. “I’m so glad to find you so charming,” observed Mrs. Stendahl frankly.
“Oh, thank you,” said Jennie flushing a little. “I’m sure I don’t deserve so much praise.”
“Well, now I will expect you some afternoon. Good-by,” and she waved a gracious farewell.
“That wasn’t so bad,” thought Jennie as she watched Mrs. Stendahl drive away. “She is very nice, I think. I’ll tell Lester about her.”
Among the other callers were a Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael Burke, a Mrs. Hanson Field, and a Mrs. Timothy Ballinger—all of whom left cards, or stayed to chat a few minutes. Jennie found herself taken quite seriously as a woman of importance, and she did her best to support the dignity of her position. And, indeed, she did exceptionally well. She was most hospitable and gracious. She had a kindly smile and a manner wholly natural; she succeeded in making a most favorable impression. She explained to her guests that she had been living on the North Side until recently, that her husband, Mr. Kane, had long wanted to have a home in Hyde Park, that her father and daughter were living here, and that Lester was the child’s stepfather. She said she hoped to repay all these nice attentions and to be a good neighbor.
Lester heard about these calls in the evening, for he did not care to meet these people. Jennie came to enjoy it in a mild way. She liked making new friends, and she was hoping that something definite could be worked out here which would make Lester look upon her as a good wife and an ideal companion. Perhaps, some day, he might really want to marry her.
First impressions are not always permanent, as Jennie was soon to discover. The neighborhood had accepted her perhaps a little too hastily, and now rumors began to fly about. A Mrs. Sommerville, calling on Mrs. Craig, one of Jennie’s near neighbors, intimated that she knew who Lester was—”oh, yes, indeed. You know, my dear,” she went on, “his reputation is just a little—” she raised her eyebrows and her hand at the same time.
“You don’t say!” commented her friend curiously. “He looks like such a staid, conservative person.”
“Oh, no doubt, in a way, he is,” went on Mrs. Sommerville. “His family is of the very best. There was some young woman he went with—so my husband tells me. I don’t know whether this is the one or not, but she was introduced as a Miss Gorwood, or some such name as that, when they were living together as husband and wife on the North Side.”
“Tst! Tst! Tst!” clicked Mrs. Craig with her tongue at this astonishing news. “You don’t tell me! Come to think of it, it must be the same woman. Her father’s name is Gerhardt.”
“Gerhardt!” exclaimed Mrs. Sommerville. “Yes, that’s the name. It seems to me that there was some earlier scandal in connection with her—at least there was a child. Whether he married her afterward or not, I don’t know. Anyhow, I understand his family will not have anything to do with her.”
“How very interesting!” exclaimed Mrs. Craig. “And to think he should have married her afterward, if he really did. I’m sure you can’t tell with whom you’re coming in contact these days, can you?”
“It’s so true. Life does get badly mixed at times. She appears to be a charming woman.”
“Delightful!” exclaimed Mrs. Craig. “Quite naive. I was really taken with her.”
“Well, it may be,” went on her guest, “that this isn’t the same woman after all. I may be mistaken.”