Chapter 46
STIRRINGTROUBLEDWATERS
PlayinginNewYorkoneeveningonthisherreturn,Carriewasputtingthefinishingtouchestohertoiletbeforeleavingforthenight,whenacommotionnearthestagedoorcaughtherear.Itincludedafamiliarvoice.
“Nevermind,now.IwanttoseeMissMadenda.”
“You’llhavetosendinyourcard.”
“Oh,comeoff!Here.”
Ahalf-dollarwaspassedover,andnowaknockcameatherdressing-roomdoor.Carrieopenedit.
“Well,well!”saidDrouet.“Idoswear!Why,howareyou.IknewthatwasyouthemomentIsawyou.”
Carriefellbackapace,expectingamostembarrassingconversation.
“Aren’tyougoingtoshakehandswithme.Well,you’readandy!That’sallright,shakehands.”
Carrieputoutherhand,smiling,iffornothingmorethantheman’sexuberantgood-nature.Thougholder,hewasbutslightlychanged.Thesamefineclothes,thesamestockybody,thesamerosycountenance.
“Thatfellowatthedoortheredidn’twanttoletmein,untilIpaidhim.Iknewitwasyou,allright.Say,you’vegotagreatshow.Youdoyourpartfine.Iknewyouwould.IjusthappenedtobepassingtonightandthoughtI’ddropinforafewminutes.Isawyournameontheprogram,butIdidn’trememberituntilyoucameonthestage.Thenitstruckmeallatonce.Say,youcouldhaveknockedmedownwithafeather.
That’sthesamenameyouusedoutthereinChicago,isn’tit.”
“Yes,”answeredCarrie,mildly,overwhelmedbytheman’sassurance.
“Iknewitwas,themomentIsawyou.Well,howhaveyoubeen,anyhow.”
“Oh,verywell,”saidCarrie,lingeringinherdressing-room.Shewasratherdazedbytheassault.“Howhaveyoubeen.”
“Me.Oh,fine.I’mherenow.”
“Isthatso.”saidCarrie.
“Yes.I’vebeenhereforsixmonths.I’vegotchargeofabranchhere.”
“Hownice!”
“Well,whendidyougoonthestage,anyhow.”inquiredDrouet.
“Aboutthreeyearsago,”saidCarrie.
“Youdon’tsayso!Well,sir,thisisthefirstI’veheardofit.Iknewyouwould,though.Ialwayssaidyoucouldact—didn’tI.”
Carriesmiled.
“Yes,youdid,”shesaid.
“Well,youdolookgreat,”hesaid.“Ineversawanybodyimproveso.You’retaller,aren’tyou.”
“Me.Oh,alittle,maybe.”
Hegazedatherdress,thenatherhair,whereabecominghatwassetjauntily,thenintohereyes,whichshetookalloccasiontoavert.Evidentlyheexpectedtorestoretheiroldfriendshipatonceandwithoutmodification.
“Well,”hesaid,seeinghergatherupherpurse,handkerchief,andthelike,preparatorytodeparting,“Iwantyoutocomeouttodinnerwithme;won’tyou.I’vegotafriendouthere.”
“Oh,Ican’t,”saidCarrie.“Notto-night.Ihaveanearlyengagementto-morrow.”
“Aw,lettheengagementgo.Comeon.Icangetridofhim.Iwanttohaveagoodtalkwithyou.”
“No,no,”saidCarrie;“Ican’t.Youmustn’taskmeanymore.Idon’tcareforalatedinner.”
“Well,comeonandhaveatalk,then,anyhow.”
“Notto-night,”shesaid,shakingherhead.“We’llhaveatalksomeothertime.”
Asaresultofthis,shenoticedashadeofthoughtpassoverhisface,asifhewerebeginningtorealizethatthingswerechanged.Good-naturedictatedsomethingbetterthanthisforonewhohadalwayslikedher.
“Youcomearoundtothehotelto-morrow,”shesaid,assortofpenanceforerror.“Youcantakedinnerwithme.”
“Allright,”saidDrouet,brightening.“Whereareyoustopping.”
“AttheWaldorf,”sheanswered,mentioningthefashionablehostelrythenbutnewlyerected.
“Whattime.”
“Well,comeatthree,”saidCarrie,pleasantly.
ThenextdayDrouetcalled,butitwaswithnoespecialdelightthatCarrierememberedherappointment.However,seeinghim,handsomeasever,afterhiskind,andmostgeniallydisposed,herdoubtsastowhetherthedinnerwouldbedisagreeableweresweptaway.Hetalkedasvolublyasever.
“Theyputonalotoflugshere,don’tthey.”washisfirstremark.
“Yes;theydo,”saidCarrie.
Genialegotistthathewas,hewentatonceintoadetailedaccountofhisowncareer.
“I’mgoingtohaveabusinessofmyownprettysoon,”heobservedinoneplace.“Icangetbackingfortwohundredthousanddollars.”
Carrielistenedmostgood-naturedly.
“Say,”hesaid,suddenly;“whereisHurstwoodnow.”
Carrieflushedalittle.
“He’shereinNewYork,Iguess,”shesaid.“Ihaven’tseenhimforsometime.”
Drouetmusedforamoment.Hehadnotbeensureuntilnowthattheex-managerwasnotaninfluentialfigureinthebackground.Heimaginednot;butthisassurancerelievedhim.ItmustbethatCarriehadgotridofhim—aswellsheought,hethought.“Amanalwaysmakesamistakewhenhedoesanythinglikethat,”heobserved.
“Likewhat.”saidCarrie,unwittingofwhatwascoming.
“Oh,youknow,”andDrouetwavedherintelligence,asitwere,withhishand.
“No,Idon’t,”sheanswered.“Whatdoyoumean.”
“WhythataffairinChicago—thetimeheleft.”
“Idon’tknowwhatyouaretalkingabout,”saidCarrie.CoulditbehewouldrefersorudelytoHurstwood’sflightwithher.
“Oho!”saidDrouet,incredulously.“Youknewhetooktenthousanddollarswithhimwhenheleft,didn’tyou.”
“What!”saidCarrie.“Youdon’tmeantosayhestolemoney,doyou.”
“Why,”saidDrouet,puzzledathertone,“youknewthat,didn’tyou.”
“Why,no,”saidCarrie.“OfcourseIdidn’t.”
“Well,that’sfunny,”saidDrouet.“Hedid,youknow.Itwasinallthepapers.”
“Howmuchdidyousayhetook.”saidCarrie.
“Tenthousanddollars.Iheardhesentmostofitbackafterwards,though.”
Carrielookedvacantlyattherichlycarpetedfloor.Anewlightwasshininguponalltheyearssinceherenforcedflight.Sherememberednowahundredthingsthatindicatedasmuch.Shealsoimaginedthathetookitonheraccount.Insteadofhatredspringinguptherewasakindofsorrowgenerated.Poorfellow!Whatathingtohavehadhangingoverhisheadallthetime.
AtdinnerDrouet,warmedupbyeatinganddrinking
andsoftenedinmood,fanciedhewaswinningCarrietoherold-timegood-naturedregardforhim.Hebegantoimagineitwouldnotbesodifficulttoenterintoherlifeagain,highasshewas.Ah,whataprize!hethought.Howbeautiful,howelegant,howfamous!InhertheatricalandWaldorfsetting,Carriewastohimthealldesirable.
“DoyourememberhownervousyouwerethatnightattheAvery.”heasked.
Carriesmiledtothinkofit.
“Ineversawanybodydobetterthanyoudidthen,Cad,”headdedruefully,asheleanedanelbowonthetable;“IthoughtyouandIweregoingtogetalongfinethosedays.”
“Youmustn’ttalkthatway,”saidCarrie,bringingintheleasttouchofcoldness.
“Won’tyouletmetellyou—”
“No,”sheanswered,rising.“Besides,it’stimeIwasgettingreadyforthetheatre.I’llhavetoleaveyou.Come,now.”
“Oh,stayaminute,”pleadedDrouet.“You’vegotplentyoftime.”
“No,”saidCarrie,gently.
ReluctantlyDrouetgaveupthebrighttableandfollowed.Hesawhertotheelevatorand,standingthere,said:
“WhendoIseeyouagain.”
“Oh,sometime,possibly,”saidCarrie.“I’llbehereallsummer.Good-night!”
Theelevatordoorwasopen.
“Good-night!”saidDrouet,assherustledin.
Thenhestrolledsadlydownthehall,allhisoldlongingrevived,becauseshewasnowsofaroff.Themerryfrou-frouoftheplacespokeallofher.Hethoughthimselfhardlydealtwith.Carrie,however,hadotherthoughts.
ThatnightitwasthatshepassedHurstwood,waitingattheCasino,withoutobservinghim.
Thenextnight,walkingtothetheatre,sheencounteredhimfacetoface.Hewaswaiting,moregauntthanever,determinedtoseeher,ifhehadtosendinword.Atfirstshedidnotrecognizetheshabby,baggyfigure.Hefrightenedher,edgingsoclose,aseeminglyhungrystranger.
“Carrie,”hehalfwhispered,“canIhaveafewwordswithyou.”Sheturnedandrecognizedhimontheinstant.Ifthereeverhadlurkedanyfeelinginherheartagainsthim,itdesertedhernow.Still,sherememberedwhatDrouetsaidabouthishavingstolenthemoney.
“Why,George,”shesaid;“what’sthematterwithyou.”
“I’vebeensick,”heanswered.“I’vejustgotoutofthehospital.ForGod’ssake,letmehavealittlemoney,willyou.”
“Ofcourse,”saidCarrie,herliptremblinginastrongefforttomaintainhercomposure.“Butwhat’sthematterwithyou,anyhow.”
Shewasopeningherpurse,andnowpulledoutallthebillsinit—afiveandtwotwos.
“I’vebeensick,Itoldyou,”hesaid,peevishly,almostresentingherexcessivepity.Itcamehardtohimtoreceiveitfromsuchasource.
“Here,”shesaid.“It’sallIhavewithme.”
“Allright,”heanswered,softly.“I’llgiveitbacktoyousomeday.”
Carrielookedathim,whilepedestriansstaredather.Shefeltthestrainofpublicity.SodidHurstwood.
“Whydon’tyoutellmewhat’sthematterwithyou.”sheasked,hardlyknowingwhattodo.“Whereareyouliving.”
“Oh,I’vegotaroomdownintheBowery,”heanswered.“There’snousetryingtotellyouhere.I’mallrightnow.”
Heseemedinawaytoresentherkindlyinquiries—somuchbetterhadfatedealtwithher.
“Bettergoonin,”hesaid.“I’mmuchobliged,butIwon’tbotheryouanymore.”
Shetriedtoanswer,butheturnedawayandshuffledofftowardtheeast.
Fordaysthisapparitionwasadragonhersoulbeforeitbegantowearpartiallyaway.Drouetcalledagain,butnowhewasnotevenseenbyher.Hisattentionsseemedoutofplace.
“I’mout,”washerreplytotheboy.
Sopeculiar,indeed,washerlonely,self-withdrawingtemper,thatshewasbecominganinterestingfigureinthepubliceye-shewassoquietandreserved.
NotlongafterthemanagementdecidedtotransfertheshowtoLondon.Asecondsummerseasondidnotseemtopromisewellhere.
“HowwouldyouliketotrysubduingLondon.”askedhermanager,oneafternoon.
“Itmightbejusttheotherway,”saidCarrie.
“Ithinkwe’llgoinJune,”heanswered.
Inthehurryofdeparture,Hurstwoodwasforgotten.BothheandDrouetwerelefttodiscoverthatshewasgone.Thelattercalledonce,andexclaimedatthenews.Thenhestoodinthelobby,chewingtheendsofhismoustache.Atlasthereachedaconclusion—theolddayshadgoneforgood.
“Sheisn’tsomuch,”hesaid;butinhisheartofheartshedidnotbelievethis.
Hurstwoodshiftedbycuriousmeansthroughalongsummerandfall.Asmalljobasjanitorofadancehallhelpedhimforamonth.Begging,sometimesgoinghungry,sometimessleepinginthepark,carriedhimovermoredays.Resortingtothosepeculiarcharities,severalofwhich,inthepressofhungrysearch,heaccidentallystumbledupon,didtherest.Towardthedeadofwinter,Carriecameback,appearingonBroadwayinanewplay;buthewasnotawareofit.Forweekshewanderedaboutthecity,begging,whilethefiresign,announcingherengagement,blazed
nightlyuponthecrowdedstreetofamusements.
Drouetsawit,butdidnotventurein.
AboutthistimeAmesreturnedtoNewYork.HehadmadealittlesuccessintheWest,andnowopenedalaboratoryinWoosterStreet.Ofcourse,heencounteredCarriethroughMrs.Vance;buttherewasnothingresponsivebetweenthem.HethoughtshewasstillunitedtoHurstwood,untilotherwiseinformed.Notknowingthefactsthen,hedidnotprofesstounderstand,andrefrainedfromcomment.
WithMrs.Vance,hesawthenewplay,andexpressedhimselfaccordingly.
“Sheoughtnottobeincomedy,”hesaid.“Ithinkshecoulddobetterthanthat.”
OneafternoontheymetattheVances’accidentally,andbeganaveryfriendlyconversation.Shecouldhardlytellwhytheone-timekeeninterestinhimwasnolongerwithher.Unquestionably,itwasbecauseatthattimehehadrepresentedsomethingwhichshedidnothave;butthisshedidnotunderstand.Successhadgivenherthemomentaryfeelingthatshewasnowblessedwithmuchofwhichhewouldapprove.Asamatteroffact,herlittlenewspaperfamewasnothingatalltohim.Hethoughtshecouldhavedonebetter,byfar.
“Youdidn’tgointocomedy-drama,afterall.”hesaid,rememberingherinterestinthatformofart.
“No,”sheanswered;“Ihaven’t,sofar.”
Helookedatherinsuchapeculiarwaythatsherealizedshehadfailed.Itmovedhertoadd:“Iwantto,though.”
“Ishouldthinkyouwould,”hesaid.“Youhavethesortofdispositionthatwoulddowellincomedy-drama.”
Itsurprisedherthatheshouldspeakofdisposition.Wasshe,then,soclearlyinhismind.
“Why.”sheasked.
“Well,”hesaid,“Ishouldjudgeyouwererather
sympatheticinyournature.”
Carriesmiledandcoloredslightly.Hewassoinnocentlyfrankwithherthatshedrewnearerinfriendship.Theoldcalloftheidealwassounding.
“Idon’tknow,”sheanswered,pleased,nevertheless,beyondallconcealment.
“Isawyourplay,”heremarked.“It’sverygood.”
“I’mgladyoulikedit.”
“Verygood,indeed,”hesaid,“foracomedy.”
Thisisallthatwassaidatthetime,owingtoaninterruption,butlatertheymetagain.Hewassittinginacornerafterdinner,staringatthefloor,whenCarriecameupwithanotheroftheguests.Hardworkhadgivenhisfacethelookofonewhoisweary.ItwasnotforCarrietoknowthethinginitwhichappealedtoher.
“Allalone.”shesaid.
“Iwaslisteningtothemusic.”
“I’llbebackinamoment,”saidhercompanion,whosawnothingintheinventor.
Nowhelookedupinherface,forshewasstandingamoment,whilehesat.
“Isn’tthatapatheticstrain.”heinquired,listening.
“Oh,very,”shereturned,alsocatchingit,nowthatherattentionwascalled.
“Sitdown,”headded,offeringherthechairbesidehim.
Theylistenedafewmomentsinsilence,touchedbythesamefeeling,onlyhersreachedherthroughtheheart.Musicstillcharmedherasintheolddays.
“Idon’tknowwhatitisaboutmusic,”shestartedtosay,movedbytheinexplicablelongingswhichsurgedwithinher;“butitalwaysmakesmefeelasifIwantedsomething—I—”
“Yes,”hereplied;“Iknowhowyoufeel.”
Suddenlyheturnedtoconsideringthepeculiarityofherdisposition,expressingherfeelingssofrankly.
“Yououghtnottobemelancholy,”hesaid.
Hethoughtawhile,andthenwentoffintoaseeminglyalienobservationwhich,however,accordedwiththeirfeelings.
“Theworldisfullofdesirablesituations,but,unfortunately,wecanoccupybutoneatatime.Itdoesn’tdousanygoodtowringourhandsoverthefar-offthings.”
Themusicceasedandhearose,takingastandingpositionbeforeher,asiftoresthimself.
“Whydon’tyougetintosomegood,strongcomedy-drama.”hesaid.Hewaslookingdirectlyathernow,studyingherface.Herlarge,sympatheticeyesandpain-touchedmouthappealedtohimasproofsofhisjudgment.
“PerhapsIshall,”shereturned.
“That’syourfield,”headded.
“Doyouthinkso.”
“Yes,”hesaid;“Ido.Idon’tsupposeyou’reawareofit,butthereissomethingaboutyoureyesandmouthwhichfitsyouforthatsortofwork.”
Carriethrilledtobetakensoseriously.Forthemoment,lonelinessdesertedher.Herewaspraisewhichwaskeenandanalytical.
“It’sinyoureyesandmouth,”hewentonabstractedly.“Irememberthinking,thefirsttimeIsawyou,thattherewassomethingpeculiaraboutyourmouth.Ithoughtyouwereabouttocry.”
“Howodd,”saidCarrie,warmwithdelight.Thiswaswhatherheartcraved.
“ThenInoticedthatthatwasyournaturallook,andto-nightIsawitagain.There’sashadowaboutyoureyes,too,whichgivesyourfacemuchthissamecharacter.It’sinthedepthofthem,Ithink.”
Carrielookedstraightintohisface,whollyaroused.
“Youprobablyarenotawareofit,”headded.
Shelookedaway,pleasedthatheshouldspeakthus,longingtobeequaltothisfeelingwrittenuponhercountenance.Itunlockedthedoortoanewdesire.She
hadcausetoponderoverthisuntiltheymetagain-severalweeksormore.Itshowedhershewasdriftingawayfromtheoldidealwhichhadfilledherinthedressing-roomsoftheAverystageandthereafter,foralongtime.Whyhadshelostit.
“Iknowwhyyoushouldbeasuccess,”hesaid,anothertime,“ifyouhadamoredramaticpart.I’vestudieditout—”
“Whatisit.”saidCarrie.
“Well,”hesaid,asonepleasedwithapuzzle,“theexpressioninyourfaceisonethatcomesoutindifferentthings.Yougetthesamethinginapatheticsong,oranypicturewhichmovesyoudeeply.It’sathingtheworldlikestosee,becauseit’sanaturalexpressionofitslonging.”
Carriegazedwithoutexactlygettingtheimportofwhathemeant.
“Theworldisalwaysstrugglingtoexpressitself,”hewenton“Mostpeoplearenotcapableofvoicingtheirfeelings.Theydependuponothers.Thatiswhatgeniusisfor.Onemanexpressestheirdesiresfortheminmusic;anotheroneinpoetry;anotheroneinaplay.Sometimesnaturedoesitinaface-itmakesthefacerepresentativeofalldesire.That’swhathashappenedinyourcase.”
Helookedatherwithsomuchoftheimportofthethinginhiseyesthatshecaughtit.Atleast,shegottheideathatherlookwassomethingwhichrepresentedtheworld’slonging.Shetookittoheartasacreditablething,untilheadded:
“Thatputsaburdenofdutyonyou.Itsohappensthatyouhavethisthing.Itisnocredittoyou—thatis,Imean,youmightnothavehadit.Youpaidnothingtogetit.Butnowthatyouhaveit,youmustdosomethingwithit.”
“What.”askedCarrie.
“Ishouldsay,turntothedramaticfield.Youhavesomuchsympathyandsuchamelodiousvoice.Makethemvaluabletoothers.Itwillmakeyourpowersendure.”
Carriedidnotunderstandthislast.Alltherestshowedherthathercomedysuccesswaslittleornothing.
“Whatdoyoumean.”sheasked.
“Why,justthis.Youhavethisqualityinyoureyesandmouthandinyournature.Youcanloseit,youknow.Ifyouturnawayfromitandlivetosatisfyyourselfalone,itwillgofastenough.Thelookwillleaveyoureyes.Yourmouthwillchange.Yourpowertoactwilldisappear.Youmaythinktheywon’t,buttheywill.Naturetakescareofthat.”
Hewassointerestedinforwardingallgoodcausesthathesometimesbecameenthusiastic,givingventtothesepreachments.SomethinginCarrieappealedtohim.Hewantedtostirherup.
“Iknow,”shesaid,absently,feelingslightlyguiltyofneglect.
“IfIwereyou,”hesaid,“I’dchange.”
Theeffectofthiswaslikeroilinghelplesswaters.Carrietroubledoveritinherrocking-chairfordays.
“Idon’tbelieveI’llstayincomedysoverymuchlonger,”sheeventuallyremarkedtoLola.
“Oh,whynot.”saidthelatter.
“Ithink,”shesaid,“Icandobetterinaseriousplay.”
“Whatputthatideainyourhead.”
“Oh,nothing,”sheanswered;“I’vealwaysthoughtso.”
Still,shedidnothing—grieving.Itwasalongwaytothisbetterthing—orseemedso—andcomfortwasabouther;hencetheinactivityandlonging.