Jennie Gerhardt - Драйзер Теодор. Страница 56
seemed to her that he had been a little different. If she could only say to him that she was not satisfied with the way she was living, and then
leave. But he himself had plainly indicated after his discovery of Vesta
that her feelings on that score could not matter so very much to him, since he thought the presence of the child would definitely interfere with his
ever marrying her. It was her presence he wanted on another basis. And
he was so forceful, she could not argue with him very well. She decided if she went it would be best to write a letter and tell him why. Then maybe
when he knew how she felt he would forgive her and think nothing more
about it.
The condition of the Gerhardt family was not improving. Since Jennie
had left Martha had married. After several years of teaching in the public schools of Cleveland she had met a young architect, and they were united
after a short engagement. Martha had been always a little ashamed of her
family, and now, when this new life dawned, she was anxious to keep the
connection as slight as possible. She barely notified the members of the
family of the approaching marriage—Jennie not at all—and to the actual
ceremony she invited only Bass and George. Gerhardt, Veronica, and
William resented the slight. Gerhardt ventured upon no comment. He had
had too many rebuffs. But Veronica was angry. She hoped that life would
give her an opportunity to pay her sister off. William, of course, did not mind particularly. He was interested in the possibilities of becoming an
electrical engineer, a career which one of his school-teachers had pointed out to him as being attractive and promising.
Jennie heard of Martha's marriage after it was all over, a note from
Veronica giving her the main details. She was glad from one point of
view, but realised that her brothers and sisters were drifting away from
her.
A little while after Martha's marriage Veronica and William went to reside with George, a break which was brought about by the attitude of Gerhardt
himself. Ever since his wife's death and the departure of the other
children he had been subject to moods of profound gloom, from which he
was not easily aroused. Life, it seemed, was drawing to a close for him,
although he was only sixty-five years of age. The earthly ambitions he
had once cherished were gone for ever. He saw Sebastian, Martha, and
George out in the world practically ignoring him, contributing nothing at all to a home which should never have taken a dollar from Jennie.
Veronica and William were restless. They objected to leaving school and
going to work, apparently preferring to live on money which Gerhardt
had long since concluded was not being come by honestly. He was now
pretty well satisfied as to the true relations of Jennie and Lester. At first he had believed them to be married, but the way Lester had neglected
Jennie for long periods, the humbleness with which she ran at his beck
and call, her fear of telling him about Vesta—somehow it all pointed to
the same thing. She had not been married at home. Gerhardt had never
had sight of her marriage certificate. Since she was away she might have
been married, but he did not believe it.
The real trouble was that Gerhardt had grown intensely morose and
crotchety, and it was becoming impossible for young people to live with
him. Veronica and William felt it. They resented the way in which he took charge of the expenditures after Martha left. He accused them of spending too much on clothes and amusements, he insisted that a smaller house
should be taken, and he regularly sequestered a part of the money which
Jennie sent, for what purpose they could hardly guess. As a matter of fact, Gerhardt was saving as much as possible in order to repay Jennie
eventually. He thought it was sinful to go on in this way, and this was his one method, outside of his meagre earnings, to redeem himself. If his
other children had acted rightly by him he felt that he would not now be
left in his old age the recipient of charity from one, who, despite her other good qualities, was certainly not leading a righteous life. So they
quarrelled.
It ended one winter month when George agreed to receive his
complaining brother and sister on condition that they should get
something to do. Gerhardt was nonplussed for a moment, but invited
them to take the furniture and go their way. His generosity shamed them
for the moment; they even tentatively invited him to come and live with
them, but this he would not do. He would ask the foreman of the mill he
watched for the privilege of sleeping in some out- of-the-way garret. He
was always liked and trusted. And this would save him a little money.
So in a fit of pique he did this, and there was seen the spectacle of an old man watching through a dreary season of nights, in a lonely trafficless
neighbourhood while the city pursued its gaiety elsewhere. He had a wee
small corner in the topmost loft of a warehouse away from the tear and
grind of the factory proper. Here Gerhardt slept by day. In the afternoon he would take a little walk, strolling toward the business centre, or out along the banks of the Cuyahoga, or the lake. As a rule his hands were
below his back, his brow bent in meditation. He would even talk to
himself a little—an occasional "By chops!" or "So it is" being indicative of his dreary mood. At dusk he would return, taking his stand at the
lonely gate which was his post of duty. His meals he secured at a nearby
workingmen's boarding-house, such as he felt he must have.
The nature of the old German's reflections at this time were of a
peculiarly subtle and sombre character. What was this thing—life? What
did it all come to after the struggle, and the worry, and the grieving?
Where does it all go to? People die; you hear nothing more from them.
His wife, now, she had gone. Where had her spirit taken its flight?
Yet he continued to hold some strongly dogmatic convictions. He
believed there was a hell, and that people who sinned would go there.
How about Mrs. Gerhardt? How about Jennie? He believed that both had
sinned woefully. He believed that the just would be rewarded in heaven.
But who were the just? Mrs. Gerhardt had not had a bad heart. Jennie was
the soul of generosity. Take his son Sebastian. Sebastian was a good boy, but he was cold, and certainly indifferent to his father. Take Martha—she was ambitious, but obviously selfish. Somehow the children outside of
Jennie, seemed self-centred. Bass walked off when he got married, and
did nothing more for anybody. Martha insisted that she needed all she
made to live on. George had contributed for a little while, but had finally refused to help out. Veronica and William had been content to live on
Jennie's money so long as he would allow it, and yet they knew it was not right. His very existence, was it not a commentary on the selfishness of
his children? And he was getting so old. He shook his head. Mystery of
mysteries. Life was truly strange, and dark, and uncertain. Still he did not want to go and live with any of his children. Actually they were not
worthy of him—none but Jennie, and she was not good. So he grieved.
This woeful condition of affairs was not made known to Jennie for some
time. She had been sending her letters to Martha, but, on her leaving,
Jennie had been writing directly to Gerhardt. After Veronica's departure
Gerhardt wrote to Jennie saying that there was no need of sending any
more money. Veronica and William were going to live with George. He