Lay out your life so as to give yourself the greatest happiness, Lester,"
she added. "You deserve it. Whatever you do will be just right for me. I won't mind." She had Mrs. Gerald in mind, and he suspected as much, but he felt that her generosity must be tinged greatly with self-sacrifice and secret unhappiness. It was the one thing which made him hesitate about
taking that final step.
The written word and the hidden thought—how they conflict! After six
months the correspondence was more or less perfunctory on his part, and
at eight it had ceased temporarily.
One morning, as she was glancing over the daily paper, she saw among
the society notes the following item:
The engagement of Mrs. Malcolm Gerald of 4044 Drexel Boulevard, to
Lester Kane, second son of the late Archibald Kane, of Cincinnati, was
formally announced at a party given by the prospective bride on Tuesday
to a circle of her immediate friends. The wedding will take place in April.
The paper fell from her hands. For a few minutes she sat perfectly still, looking straight ahead of her. Could this thing be so? she asked herself.
Had it really come at last? She had known that it must come, and yet—
and yet she had always hoped that it would not. Why had she hoped? Had
not she herself sent him away? Had not she herself suggested this very
thing in a roundabout way? It had come now. What must she do? Stay
here as a pensioner? The idea was objectionable to her. And yet he had set aside a goodly sum to be hers absolutely. In the hands of a trust company in La Salle Street were railway certificates aggregating seventy-five
thousand dollars, which yielded four thousand five hundred annually, the
income being paid to her direct. Could she refuse to receive this money?
There was Vesta to be considered.
Jennie felt hurt through and through by this denouement, and yet as she
sat there she realised that it was foolish to be angry. Life was always
doing this sort of a thing to her. It would go on doing so. She was sure of it. If she went out in the world and earned her own living what difference would it make to him? What difference would it make to Mrs. Gerald?
Here she was walled in this little place, leading an obscure existence, and there was he out in the great world enjoying life in its fullest and freest sense. It was too bad. But why cry? Why?
Her eyes indeed were dry, but her very soul seemed to be torn in pieces
within her. She rose carefully, hid the newspaper at the bottom of a trunk, and turned the key upon it.
CHAPTER LVIII
Now that his engagement to Mrs. Gerald was an accomplished fact,
Lester found no particular difficulty in reconciling himself to the new
order of things; undoubtedly it was all for the best. He was sorry for
Jennie—very sorry. So was Mrs. Gerald; but there was a practical
unguent to her grief in the thought that it was best for both Lester and the girl. He would be happier—was so now. And Jennie would eventually
realise that she had done a wise and kindly thing; she would be glad in
the consciousness that she had acted so unselfishly. As for Mrs. Gerald,
because of her indifference to the late Malcolm Gerald, and because she
was realising the dreams of her youth in getting Lester at last—even
though a little late— she was intensely happy. She could think of nothing finer than this daily life with him—the places they would go, the things
they would see. Her first season in Chicago as Mrs. Lester Kane the
following winter was going to be something worth remembering. And as
for Japan—that was almost too good to be true.
Lester wrote to Jennie of his coming marriage to Mrs. Gerald. He said
that he had no explanation to make. It wouldn't be worth anything if he
did make it. He thought he ought to marry Mrs. Gerald. He thought he
ought to let her (Jennie) know. He hoped she was well. He wanted her
always to feel that he had her real interests at heart. He would do
anything in his power to make life as pleasant and agreeable for her as
possible. He hoped she would forgive him. And would she remember him
affectionately to Vesta? She ought to be sent to a finishing school.
Jennie understood the situation perfectly. She knew that Lester had been
drawn to Mrs. Gerald from the time he met her at the Carlton in London.
She had been angling for him. Now she had him. It was all right. She
hoped he would be happy. She was glad to write and tell him so,
explaining that she had seen the announcement in the papers. Lester read
her letter thoughtfully; there was more between the lines than the written words conveyed. Her fortitude was a charm to him even in this hour. In
spite of all he had done and what he was now going to do, he realised that he still cared for Jennie in a way. She was a noble and a charming
woman. If everything else had been all right he would not be going to
marry Mrs. Gerald at all. And yet he did marry her.
The ceremony was performed on April fifteenth, at the residence of Mrs.
Gerald, a Roman Catholic priest officiating. Lester was a poor example of the faith he occasionally professed. He was an agnostic, but because he
had been reared in the church he felt that he might as well be married in it. Some fifty guests, intimate friends, had been invited. The ceremony
went off with perfect smoothness. There were jubilant congratulations
and showers of rice and confetti. While the guests were still eating and
drinking Lester and Letty managed to escape by a side entrance into a
closed carriage, and were off. Fifteen minutes later there was pursuit pell-mell on the part of the guests to the Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific
depot; but by that time the happy couple were in their private car, and the arrival of the rice throwers made no difference. More champagne was
opened; then the starting of the train ended all excitement, and the newly wedded pair were at last safely off.
"Well, now you have me," said Lester, cheerfully pulling Letty down beside him into a seat, "what of it?"
"This of it," she exclaimed, and hugged him close, kissing him fervently.
In four days they were in San Francisco, and two days later on board a
fast steamship bound for the land of the Mikado.
In the meanwhile Jennie was left to brood. The original announcement in
the newspapers had said that he was to be married in April, and she had
kept close watch for additional information. Finally she learned that the wedding would take place on April fifteenth, at the residence of the
prospective bride, the hour being high noon. In spite of her feeling of
resignation, Jennie followed it all hopelessly, like a child, hungry and
forlorn, looking into a lighted window at Christmas time.
On the day of the wedding she waited miserably for twelve o'clock to
strike; it seemed as though she were really present—and looking on. She
could see in her mind's eye the handsome residence, the carriages, the
guests, the feast, the merriment, the ceremony—all. Telepathically and
psychologically she received impressions of the private car and of the
joyous journey they were going to take. The papers had stated that they
would spend their honeymoon in Japan. Their honeymoon! Her Lester!
And Mrs. Gerald was so attractive. She could see her now—the new Mrs.
Kane—the only MRS. Kane that ever was, lying in his arms. He had held
her so once. He had loved her. Yes, he had! There was a solid lump in her throat as she thought of this. Oh, dear! She sighed to herself, and clasped her hands forcefully; but it did no good. She was just as miserable as