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diff --git a/old/63125-8.txt b/old/63125-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3a5acb6..0000000 --- a/old/63125-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4331 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Glebe 1914/03 (Vol. 1, No. 6): Erna -Vitek, by Alfred Kreymborg - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Glebe 1914/03 (Vol. 1, No. 6): Erna Vitek - -Author: Alfred Kreymborg - -Editor: Man Ray - Alfred Kreymborg - -Release Date: September 5, 2020 [EBook #63125] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GLEBE 1914/03 (VOL. 1 *** - - - - -Produced by Jens Sadowski and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. This book was -produced from images made available by the Blue Mountain -Project, Princeton University. - - - - - - - THE - GLEBE - - VOLUME 1 - NUMBER 6 - - MARCH - 1914 - - SUBSCRIPTION - Three Dollars Yearly - THIS ISSUE 50 CENTS - - ERNA VITEK - - By Alfred Kreymborg - - - ERNA VITEK - - - - - ERNA VITEK - - - BY - Alfred Kreymborg - - - NEW YORK - ALBERT AND CHARLES BONI - 96 Fifth Avenue - 1914 - - - Copyright, 1914 - by - Albert and Charles Boni - - - - - ERNA VITEK - - - - - I - - -Three young men, the best of friends, a painter, Bainbridge Breen, a -writer, Eric Nielsen, and a composer, John Carstairs, were arguing that -three-faced conundrum, morals. Quite an accident had provoked them to -it: a waitress, Erna Vitek. From picking at her they had launched into -axiomizing, only to come back to her. Her morals were the vital topic of -the evening. Carstairs' studio provided the _mise en scène_. - -"Well, we've hit a conclusion at last," said Breen with an air of -comfortable finality. "Carstairs calls her moral, I say she's unmoral, -and Nielsen that she may be moral, unmoral or even both." - -"Yes!" - -"Now, we've all conceded that Erna's not immoral--at least she doesn't -lead a life inconsistent with morality?" - -"Yes!" - -"Very well then," Breen concluded contentedly. "Now let me make a -proposition." - -"What kind of a proposition?" Nielsen quizzed in droll tones and looked -at Carstairs, who was frowning. - -"There's very little to it. I can dish it out in a few words. It's -simply this: that we put Erna to the test." - -"What do you mean?" was Carstairs' immediate challenge. - -"Don't worry!" Breen responded blandly. "I'm not going to injure the -girl." - -"Well, what did you mean--" - -"Merely this," the painter interrupted quietly. "I don't believe that -any of us know her very well. She's only been working at Landsmann's a -few months. Of course, Carstairs, you've taken her out on one or two -occasions, so you've had an opportunity of studying her at closer -range." - -"Not of studying her!" - -"You don't study her, certainly. You--er--what would you call it, -Nielsen?" - -"Why, John has been burned a little by the divine flame." - -Carstairs blushed angrily. "If you fellows intend to be personal--" - -"Never mind, John," Nielsen cut in. "You must allow us the occasional -escape of some of our surplus wind. Now, let's drop these bravado poses -and get down to business. I want the rest of the proposition. We know -that we're to put Erna to the test. Now, Breen, tell us how." - -"There's nothing to explain. I said, put her to the test. Let each one, -in his own way and for himself, perhaps, pay her attentions--I don't -mean, make love to her--but simply, well, let him take her to the -theatre or to supper some evening--she's free nights--and find out how -close he can get to her--I don't mean seduction--but that he penetrate -her character. Let each, in his own way, learn for himself, and later -we'll compare notes and decide whether the respected lady has the moral -or the unmoral tendency or even whether she might develop an--er--" - -"See here, Breen!" Carstairs exploded. - -"Oh, I'd forgotten that we agreed to throw that out," the painter -apologized. "You see, I couldn't help thinking of that little affair -with the young prize ring gladiator. What was his name? Allen!" - -"But that was only a temptation," Carstairs fought back. - -"Of course, only a temptation. But we have only her word that it never -proved more." - -The composer was ready with a hot retaliation when Nielsen interposed: -"Now don't let's revert to that topic again, Breen. We can never know -the whole story, and it only annoys John to refer to it. We know that -Erna was down and out at the time--she'd just come to Landsmann's, was -unsettled and that sort of thing--that much we know and that young Allen -followed her there with an offer of cash. At least, she intimated -something like that to John and said it was a case of being good or bad -then and there. She chose being good. Even if she had chosen the other, -the transaction might have been an unmoral and not an immoral one, for -she was fond of Allen." - -"But--" - -"Now never mind, Breen! We've threshed that out often enough. Erna -didn't flop--in fact, she showed Mr. Allen the door, hasn't seen him -since and--" - -"But we have only _her_ word for all that stuff." - -"All right. There's no other to contradict." - -Breen, although silenced, was busy reflecting; Carstairs' ire was -appeased. Nielsen concluded: "Let's take up Breen's proposition, John, -each in his own way, whatever that may be, and then we'll compare notes -some day and settle the business. After all, Erna's only a waitress; we -needn't spend more than an ordinary amount of excitement over her." - -"But she isn't a waitress. I tell you, she's a woman." - -"All right, woman let her be," Nielsen conceded gracefully. "Now, we -don't want to sit here throwing words and phrases around all evening. -We've been at it too long as it is. Why not put the matter to a vote and -then drop it?" - -"Yes." - -"Breen, of course, votes that we put her to the test. Will you vote that -way too?" - -Carstairs gave in with an effort. - -"Fine!" Nielsen applauded. "I'll vote 'yes' too." - -"Motion proposed and carried that one Erna Vitek, employed as waitress -at the Café Landsmann--" - -"That'll do, Breen. We've had enough of your eloquence for one evening. -You've given me a headache. Besides, I'm sick of this subject. Let's -start something else." - -Breen laughed his ever-ready, self-satisfied laugh, and Nielsen, and -even Carstairs, joined him. Presently, the studio slept the sleep of the -unperturbed. Carefully, Breen filled his pipe and began a deliberate -puffing, while Nielsen introduced some new anecdote in his droll, -even-tempered way. Carstairs, on the other hand, was meditating -gloomily: in an hour or so he would be due at that damnable hole, the -Phoenix Music Hall--where he earned his bread playing accompaniments. A -second thought cheered him not a little. He would still have time to eat -his supper at Landsmann's. - - - - - II - - -"Erna! What is the matter with you? Another cup of coffee for Mr. -Nolan!" - -"I know it. I ordered it an hour ago." - -The stocky, middle-aged, stolid-faced German stared at the handsome -sensual girl of twenty, muttered something, as she returned his critical -stare with a defiant one, and passed out of the kitchen into the store. - -"What is the matter with Erna to-day?" he demanded of his stocky, -middle-aged, stolid-faced wife, who stood behind the counter waiting on -customers. - -"Why?" - -"This is the third time she has been _schnautzing_ me." - -"Oh, she has something on her mind," was the woman's unconcerned reply. - -The storekeeper was not satisfied. "That _fellow_ must be to blame," he -said. - -"Who?" - -"That Allen! He's been coming here again." - -"Has he?" the woman returned with the same unconcern. "Let him come. -What do you care?" - -Erna Vitek was in a morose humor. Her pugnacious nose seemed more -pugnacious than ever, and even her mouth, usually so soft and yielding, -appeared hard this morning. And her brown eyes, which could give you -gentle glances one day and repelling ones the next, were filled with -ominous signs. There was a good reason. She had just overheard the other -waitresses exchanging remarks about her. This would not have been so bad -if their talk had been without foundation. But it was true: she had been -glad to see Jimmy Allen yesterday noon and evening, when he came -in--after an absence of three months. He had stopped drinking. He had -been living and training in the country, so that the old color had -returned to his face and the old light to his eyes. He looked stronger -than ever, more energetic and happier. Yes, he was to begin fighting -again--next week--but that had never been his worst fault. The girls -said that she still "liked him" or that she would "like him again." This -would not have been so bad if-- - -Gretchen and Mollie were small, mean, dirty. They were always gossipping -about her. And she had given them her old dresses, old hats, -encouragement, advice. What a lot of gratitude women felt toward you! - -Her face cleared. A laughing, splendidly built young fellow was making -his way through the store, returning salutations. He stopped in the -kitchen long enough to barter laughing glances with Erna and passed down -the two steps into the dining room: a small low one containing six -tables--Erna's empire. There, he received more greetings and one or two -short tributes on his return to the public eye. The young athlete pulled -off his coat and cap and hung them on the wall. He flung himself into a -chair at an empty table and was soon at his ease. - -Erna was a shrewd girl. She did not come to take his order at once. -First, she served another patron. Then, she cleared away some dishes. -Finally, she came to Jimmy's table, but with a careless air. - -He gave her a frank look. "How's the girl?" was his familiar greeting. - -"Pretty fair!" she responded in cool tones. "How are you?" - -"Bully!" - -"What do you want?" she went on indifferently. - -"Gimme time to breathe!" he protested, and tried to stare into her face -and to take her hand. - -"Stop!" she warned him and drew back. - -"Why, what the deuce--" - -"Customers are waitin'--" she cut him short. - -He gave the bill of fare a contemptuous glance. "Bring me a soft boiled -egg, toast an' a glass o' milk." - -She looked at him with sudden irritation, but smiled, turned her back -and left the room with aggravating slowness. - -Jimmy appeared angry, but one of the patrons disturbed his mood with an -admiring: "On a diet, Jimmy?" - -"Yes." - -"What night does it come off?" - -"Next Tuesday." - -"How do you feel?" - -Jimmy expanded his chest, gave himself a solid punch and answered: -"Great! Harder than a rock!" - -"Feel sorry for 'the Kid.' How long are you goin' to let him stay?" - -"Oh, part o' the second," was Jimmy's laughing assurance. - -A sigh of pleasure and envy escaped the patrons. And they quickly -announced their intention to be present at the joyous butchery. - -Erna came back. She pretended to wipe off the neighboring table. Pretty -soon, however, she was at Jimmy's side. - -"What's the grouch?" he asked confidentially. - -"Nothin'." - -"Still sore at me?" - -"No." - -"Sore at somebody else?" - -"No." - -He looked up at her anxiously, but Erna smiled; her eyes softened and -winked slyly. Jimmy, who was always willing to laugh, laughed again. -"You're still the kiddo," he whispered. - -Erna blushed and moved away. - -"Erna!" he called. - -"Wait a moment!" - -She stayed away about two minutes and then returned with Jimmy's order, -which was overdue. Three of the patrons, exchanging "so longs!" with the -prize-fighter, went out. Two remained, milkmen, but they were fast -asleep. - -Erna set Jimmy's order before him. He tried to catch her hand, but she -was too quick. An irritable grunt escaped him. - -"What's the matter?" she taunted him. - -"What's the matter with _you_?" - -"Nothin'." - -But she dropped her glance coquettishly. He gave her face and figure an -admiring look. - -"Erna," he said gently. - -She looked at him for a shy instant. - -"I say, Erna," he repeated. - -"Well?" - -"You're not sore?" - -"No." - -"Sure?" - -"Yes." - -"You know what I mean?" - -"Sure!" - -He studied her. "Then why do you treat me this way--now?" - -She tried bold and bashful glances, turned her head a little and said -enigmatically "Just because." - -"Just because what?" - -"Just because." - -He shook his head, but his ever-ready laugh came to his assistance. -"Then you're not sore?" - -"No." - -"Sure?" - -"Of course." - -"Even though--" - -"Yes." - -"Then you like to treat me this way just--" - -"Sure." - -"Why?" - -"Just because!" she echoed and started to laugh. - -He gave her an adoring glance and this time caught her hand. She tried -to pull it away, but his grip was too powerful. He squeezed her hand. - -"Don't, don't!" she begged in pain. - -He let go and smiled. She was not angry. Instead, she placed her hand on -his biceps. He raised his forearm and imprisoned her hand. "Oo-oo!" she -sighed in happy homage, and her eyes shone. - -Once more, he freed her hand. "Well?" - -"Terrible!" she whispered. "What'll happen to the poor 'Kid'?" - -"Death!" was his jovial rejoinder. - -He caught her hand once more. "Don't, don't!" she warned him. He let go -as before, but she did not withdraw it immediately. - -His glance grew bolder and bolder, but he hesitated. He busied himself -with his breakfast for a moment, shaking salt into his egg and stirring -it with a spoon. He looked up and hesitated again. Finally, he began: -"Then it'll be all right to-night?" - -"To-night?" - -"Yes. You said you'd tell me to-day." - -"I know." - -"It'll be all right?" he pleaded. - -She eyed him a moment, softened a little and then gave in: "But where -can we go?" - -"We can take in a show," he suggested. - -"A show?" - -"Yes!" - -"Where?" - -"Oh, Miner's, the Gran' or a movie." - -She meditated. - -"Hurry up! Here come some customers." - -She turned her head quickly, and then looked back at him. "All right," -she whispered. - -"Where'll I meet you?" he demanded eagerly. - -"At the old corner--eight o'clock!" - -He pressed her hand in hurried understanding, as three young men entered -the dining room. They were Breen, Carstairs and Nielsen. Erna passed -them on her way out with a nervous "good-morning." - -She stayed out some time. Jimmy ate and drank rapidly, got up, took his -check, put on his cap and coat, and ignoring the newcomers, left the -room. Breen and Nielsen had recognized him with amazement. They watched -him curiously, but not so Carstairs. He sat there, staring gloomily at -the table. - - - - - III - - -"Moral or unmoral, but not--" Breen started and waited for Nielsen to -supply the last word. - -Nielsen, who understood, shook his head and corrected: "Moral or -unmoral--no more," and smiled confidently. - -Carstairs looked from Nielsen to Breen and continued staring at the -table. - -"How do you account then for the recrudescence of our young gladiator?" -Breen went on. - -"And what has that to do with Erna's life, present or future?" Nielsen -argued amiably. - -"If he's calling again?" - -"Let him call! Does that necessarily affect Erna's conduct?" - -"But _hasn't_ it affected her conduct? Didn't you notice it as we came -in?" - -"Yes." - -"Well?" - -Nielsen wore a thoughtful frown, but smiled mischievously and declared: -"There was nothing _im_moral, as far as I could make out." - -Breen was gracious enough to agree: "Perhaps not." - -They were silent. Carstairs watched them gloomily and then returned to -his occupation. Erna came in, affecting a matter-of-fact air. - -Breen and Nielsen pressed her with playful greetings and compliments. -She accepted them as part of the tribute due her each day, but her -stereotyped expression disappeared, and she was ready to take up her -duties as gracious empress. Even her pugnacious nose appeared less -pugnacious. Having recognized the young men's tribute by a favor or two, -she criticized genially: "You're late this morning." - -"Nielsen overslept himself," Breen explained. - -"Don't you believe him--he overslept himself," Nielsen retorted. - -Erna was leaning against their table, her arms akimbo. The pair received -a glance each, as was their due, and then she studied Carstairs. "Maybe -it was you, Mr. Carstairs?" - -He looked up. "Me?" - -"Yes--maybe it was you that overslept yourself." - -Carstairs blushed, his friends laughed, and he denied with a return of -good nature: "No. They were the ones." - -"He's not awake yet, Erna," Breen fought back. - -"He doesn't look it," she seconded. - -The young composer blushed again, but did not defend himself this time. -Nielsen eyed him with friendly concern. - -"Your orders, gentlemen." - -"What's your hurry?" Breen complained. - -"You don't suppose I can stand here all day," she reminded him. - -"But I want to admire you a little," he protested. "Who wants to eat in -the presence of a--of a--Why, look at the beautiful red ribbon! Is it a -new one, Erna?" - -"Yes," and instantly, Erna, always susceptible to praise or flattery, -raised her hands to arrange the ribbon. - -"It matches your hair to perfection," Breen pursued. "You love color, -don't you?" - -"Sure." - -"Red the most?" - -"Sure." - -"Blood, blood red?" - -"Yes." - -"My favorite color, too!" - -"That'll do," Nielsen interposed. "Don't steal all the crumbs, Breen." - -Erna laughed. - -"But they belong to me," Breen defended himself. "Color is my line. Red -is my color too." - -"These grasping conceited painters!" Nielsen grumbled. - -"No," Erna interceded. "If he likes red, he likes red." - -"'A second Daniel'," quoted Breen. "I thank thee, gracious Lady. Thou -and I are of one mind and desire. By the way, Erna! Did you ever wear -all red?" - -"No--oh, yes, two or three years ago." - -"You did? Have you still got the dress?" - -"Oh, I've outgrown it. I'm--I'm stouter now," and she expanded her chest -and laughed again. - -"But you must find it," he continued with growing interest. "You could -easily alter it to fit, couldn't you? I want you to pose for me. You -know you've promised me several times. Wouldn't you like to? All in red: -red ribbon, red waist, and skirt and even red slippers, but best of all, -red cheeks and red lips!" - -Erna's pleasure-loving scent was aroused. - -"Will you, Erna?" - -"Sure!" - -"When?" - -"Oh, not to-day." - -"When then?" - -"Not to-morrow." - -"Oh, pshaw--when then?" - -"My first afternoon off?" - -"Fine! When will that be?" - -"Next Monday." - -"Good! And you'll be ready?" - -"Yes, if you really want me to. But I won't be able--" - -"That's all right," he interrupted. "Come anyhow! You'll be immense just -the same. You will create--" - -"Pooh, pooh, and likewise tut, tut!" Nielsen broke in. "When are we to -hear an end to this?" - -"He's jealous," said Erna. - -"Of course," Nielsen admitted. "To the painter go all the spoils. No one -ever poses for a writer. It wouldn't be proper." - -"Why?" she challenged. - -Nielsen got up in a hurry. "What?" he demanded in mock seriousness. - -"Order, order!" she said roguishly and looked away. - -"But--" - -"Order, order!" Breen echoed. "The lady is right. We must have order. -Besides, we haven't ordered." - -Nielsen fell back with a philosophic sigh. "All is unfair when bad puns -make their appearance." - -It did not take the young men long to make their choice of breakfast. -Erna went away. - -"Come back soon!" pleaded Breen. - -"In a wink," she called back. - -Breen started drumming on the table; Nielsen looked across at him and -hummed a pleasant tune. "You're a clever individual," he observed. - -"Why?" - -"You're not going to have her pose, old Sly Fox." - -"Certainly not, thou reader of souls." - -"I thought not." - -"But I'm only carrying out our program of last night. You seem to have -forgotten it." - -"No." - -"Then why criticize me for being the first one on the job? It'll be up -to you and Carstairs too." - -"I know," Nielsen agreed jovially. - -"Count me out!" Carstairs interrupted suddenly. - -"The sleeper's awake," Breen applauded. "He's back from the land of -dreams. What news from Arcadia, Colonel?" - -"You can count me out," Carstairs repeated stubbornly, and would not -look at his friends. - -"Why, what's the matter?" Nielsen interposed sympathetically, and raised -his hand to forewarn Breen. - -"Nothing." - -"Breen's only been fooling all along!" - -"I know." - -"Then you're not angry with him, or me?" - -"No." - -"Then what's the trouble?" - -"I don't like it--I hate it," the young composer went on with -difficulty. - -"What don't you like?" - -"This business!" - -"What, this business of testing Erna?" Nielsen asked gently, and studied -him. "John!" The latter refused to look at him. "It's all in fun. I -thought you were satisfied with our arrangement? We are each to study -Erna in our own way, then to compare notes to learn whether--You don't -have to use Breen's method. I don't intend to. You don't have to -either." - -"I know." - -"Then there ought to be no complaint." - -"Count me out anyhow." - -"Why?" - -Breen wanted to poke into the argument, but Nielsen raised his hand -again. - -"She's not a waitress or a--or a working woman--or a table or a chair," -Carstairs said with obvious difficulty. - -Nielsen understood. He squeezed his neighbor's arm and declared with his -most soothing tone: "She's a woman, of course--as we concluded last -night. Breen and I know that. You feel that we do, don't you?" - -Carstairs, who was in his most sentimental mood, seemed on the verge of -tears. "Yes," he managed to agree. - -Nielsen broke off the subject at once. "Well, we'll talk over the whole -business some other time. You're not feeling well this morning. It must -be your work at that confounded moving picture hole." - -"Yes," Carstairs said doubtfully. - -"Cheer up!" Breen succeeded in interpolating. "Forget your troubles in -the music world and listen to that concert over there. That duet -recital, I should say." - -Carstairs smiled. - -"Tristan and Isolde are being undone," Nielsen added, catching Breen's -cue. "Or Salome and Jokannan, eh? Away with Wagner and Strauss: Richard -the First and Second--what do you say, John?" - -"Yes." - -The two milkmen, who were sleeping more soundly than ever, appreciated -their listeners' applause. They were indulging in a crescendo. - -"Silence and listen!" Breen warned so solemnly that Nielsen, and even -Carstairs, laughed. - -Breen and Nielsen exchanged nods. They had accomplished their object. -Erna came back with their orders. - -"What music have we here?" Breen hailed her. - -She set their orders on the table, and arranged their plates, knives, -forks and spoons. "What did you say?" - -"What music is this emanating from yon Orpheus and his Eurydice?" - -"Must be some ragtime," she suggested. - -Breen feigned disappointment. - -"It all depends upon one's taste, you see," Nielsen interpreted for him. - -And Carstairs laughed again. - -Erna eyed him. "Why, he's awake," she said. - -"Yes," Breen and Nielsen assured her. - -Carstairs raised his head and met her glance for an instant, and the -sudden warmth he felt brought color to his face. He looked elsewhere, -but it was plainly evident that he was feeling better. - -"You're sure you're awake now?" she questioned wantonly. - -"Yes, thanks," he responded gratefully. - -The young men started eating. Erna attended to her remaining duties with -them and then went over to another table and sat down. Presently, she -was occupied folding paper napkins. Breen, with Nielsen's assistance, -opened a discussion on the newest fad of French painting, examples of -which were being exhibited at a Fifth Avenue gallery. - -Carstairs stole cautious glances at Erna. Once or twice, she raised her -eyes and caught his glance in hers. Both looked away in embarrassment. -This performance was repeated several times. There seemed to be some shy -understanding between them. - -About a half hour later, the young men arose and put on their hats and -coats. Erna came over and gave them their checks. "So long, Erna," -Nielsen parted cordially. "_Au midi_," Breen seconded. And the pair made -their way up the steps and out of the dining room. - -Carstairs had delayed his departure a moment. He approached Erna -nervously and in a hurried voice, began: "Is it all right for to-night? -You know, you were going to let me know." - -She frowned a little and then returned: "Yes--oh no, I can't go out with -you to-night." - -His face became tragic. She, possessed by one of her soft moods, played -the sympathetic: "Will you be off again this week?" - -"Yes--Sunday night--from seven to nine," he explained in an eager -whisper. - -"Well?" She waited, smiling. - -"Will it be all right then?" he asked, his courage rising. - -"Yes." - -"All right--Sunday--seven o'clock," he whispered, hurried out--and -forgot his check. - -She came after him and caught him at the counter, where he had joined -his friends. - -"You've forgotten your check," she told him, with a bright glance. - -"Oh, yes, thanks," he stammered. - -Breen and Nielsen stared at him. The trio passed out into the street. - -"Where shall we go?" Breen questioned. - -"Let's bum a while in my room," Nielsen proposed. - -"I can't," Carstairs declined. - -"Why not, John?" - -"I want to work a little," Carstairs explained. - -Breen and Nielsen stared at him again. - -Somewhat later, the painter and the writer were comfortably seated in -the latter's comfortable workshop. - -"I guess so, but I hope it isn't true," Nielsen was saying. - -"Oh, he'll get over it. These attachments of his are never serious nor -of long duration. And at best, she's only a hardened little thing, a -fact he'll realize in good season." - -"John was always much slower to learn matters than the rest of us," -Nielsen said dreamily. - -"Yes." - -"He's foolishly sensitive too." - -"And foolishly sentimental," Breen concluded. - -There was a pause. - -"And how about your story?" the painter continued. - -"By the way, I'm thinking of using Erna as a model for--" - -"Want her to pose for you too, old Sly Fox?" Breen demanded in revenge. - -"Of course, and incidentally to find out--" - -"I know," Breen interrupted, and the pair laughed in mutual admiration. - -In the meanwhile, John Carstairs was busy--working. He was seated at the -small upright piano, which monopolized a good part of the space in his -small studio. About an hour later, he had finished improvising and -selecting and arranging his material and now placed a large sheet of -music paper against the piano rack. The staves were blank at present, -but it was certain that the young composer intended covering them as -rapidly as possible. First of all, however, he wrote the title of the -composition at the head of the page: To Thee. - - - - - IV - - -An evening performance was in full swing at the Phoenix Music Hall, a -small but well attended five and ten cent moving picture and vaudeville -establishment on Eighth Avenue, not far from Landsmann's. At present, -the moving pictures were doing a turn, and the auditorium was dark. -Music from a piano, placed close to the stage, was the only -accompaniment, but it was an adequate one. A young, slender, anaemic -individual was seated at the piano. - -At the moment, he was playing a dainty popular waltz as a descriptive -background for a French comedy scene. Many a laugh rolled toward him. -Then he commenced a two-step, as the screen announced a change of -pictures. The audience laughed more frequently and with heartier -approval, as an American farce romped by. Again, the screen announced a -change. - -An Irish romance was under way. For this class of sketch, Carstairs was -expected to interpolate or to improvise something "sweet and dreamy." -Therefore, he took advantage of the opportunity. He leaned closer to the -keyboard, lowered his head and was soon engulfed in what he was -rendering--so much so, that he did not turn to keep in touch with the -pictures, as was his habit. The yearning sentimental composition had -made him captive. - -Let others talk against Erna, he would still hold fast to his faith in -her. Breen was a cynic, and Nielsen too. They flattered themselves that -they knew human nature, but they did not, for they were lacking in -sympathy. He had been foolish to listen to their prattle concerning -Erna. He would not do so in the future. In fact, he ought to drop their -acquaintance or to avoid their company, at least. He would do that. Now, -he could keep his thought of her, so pure, to himself--his thought of -her, who, in spite of her fun-loving and prank-playing nature, was as -pure as the purest and whitest of-- Yes, he would keep her pure. And -Jimmy Allen, well, he had come back, but his influence over her was -dead, dead since the day she had shown him the door, as she had confided -to him that time. He could trust her. She was strong enough and pure -enough to take care of herself. - -This was Friday; to-morrow would be Saturday, and then Sunday, a long, -long Sunday, would come and have to pass before she would be with him. -Of course, he would see her to-morrow morning at breakfast, but he must -be careful to avoid the cynics. Even so, how could he tell her that he -had composed this for her, this, the best of his compositions, thanks to -the circumstance that she had been its inspiration. Perhaps, it would be -better not to tell her; it would be a bigger surprise if he were to play -it for her and then offer it to her, as one would a flower or some other -symbol. - -Would he have the courage to ask her to come to his studio, so that he -might play for her? And if he had, suppose she should refuse? But she -had accepted an invitation from Breen, and only to pose for him. Surely, -she would not refuse him? And if she did not, could he actually amuse -and hold her attention by merely playing for her? Why not? She sang a -great deal in the store,--it is true, popular music, which he hated--but -she had not been educated to anything higher. That did not make her any -the less musical; moreover, she would learn in time, at his guidance -perhaps, since she possessed so much temperament along with that lovely -voice. Therefore, she would not object should he offer to play for her. -And he would play as he never had for any one, eventually to lead up to -this composition, that belonged so naturally to her. What would she say -when he would offer it to her as her own? He must push his courage far -enough to ask her to come to his studio. - -Carstairs continued playing and dreaming. - -The audience was very still now. At one end of the front row, a young -couple were sitting, holding hands. When the lights were up a while ago, -one might have recognized them as Erna Vitek and Jimmy Allen. Both were -living in the proverbial seventh heaven. - -"Ain't it lovely?" she was whispering. - -"The two boobs in the love story?" - -"Not them so much--but the music!" - -"Pretty good." - -"Nice an' dreamy, ain't it?" - -"Yes--sounds as though the guy was playing for us." - -Erna gave him a reproving nudge, and he laughed. They listened and -watched in silence. But he grew impatient. "Don't care for the story, do -you?" - -"Sure! What's the matter with it?" - -"Them two boobs gimme a pain." - -"Why?" - -"I dunno." - -"They're true to life?" - -"So's my dead gran'mother." - -She laughed. "What's wrong with 'em?" - -He squeezed her hand as gently as he was able. "Where do we come in?" - -"What?" - -"Ain't we true to life?" - -She pulled her hand away. - -"What's the matter?" he demanded. - -"Nothin'." - -"Gimme your--my hand again!" - -"No." - -"Why not?" - -"Just because." - -"Sore?" - -"No." - -He was silent. - -Presently, she commanded: "Jimmy!" - -No answer. - -"Jimmy!" - -Again, no answer. - -Her hand slid across his arm and sought his. - -"Mad?" - -"Mm--no." - -"Sure?" - -"Yes." - -"Then why wouldn't you answer?" - -"Just because!" he mimicked her. - -She slapped his hand gently, his hand opened and they clasped again. -There was a pause. - -"Erna," he said in bolder tones. - -"Not so loud!" she warned him. - -"Well then--Erna," he repeated in very low tones. - -"That's better." - -"How about it?" - -"About what?" - -"What I asked you 'fore we came here?" - -"I asked you not to repeat that," was her reproach. - -"I know, but I can't help it. Don't you like it here?" - -"Sure." - -"I mean here, side o' me--in the dark?" - -"Yes." - -"Well--" He hesitated. - -"Well?" she mocked him. - -"Think o' how swell it'd be--" - -"Be careful, Jimmy!" - -"I can't help it," he persisted. "Think o' how swell it'd be--" - -"Jimmy!" she warned him once more. - -"Oh shucks!" he returned aloud, and was silent. There was a longer -pause. - -"Jimmy!" - -No answer. - -"Jimmy!" - -Again, no answer. - -"Jimmy!" - -A third time, no answer. - -She pressed his hand and pushed against his shoulder, but he would not -respond. Erna gave in. "I'm sorry--forgive me?" - -"Mm--" - -"Do you forgive me?" - -"Yes." - -"You don't say it very loud." - -"Well, you jumped on me before for talkin' loud." - -"You'd wake the audience," she apologized. - -"Well?" he challenged. - -"Well what?" she retorted. - -"What did you want to say?" - -"Nothin'." - -"All right!"--and he was silent. - -"Ah yes, Jimmy," she resigned. - -"Well?" - -"You can go on with--with your story, but--but don't go too far." - -"All right." - -"Promise?" - -"Yes." - -"Then go ahead." - -He revolved matters in his blunt mind, and recommenced: "You remember, I -told you 'bout the--the little furnished flat my manager, Nolan, asked -me to move in?" - -"Yes?" - -"Well, why couldn't we--just you an' me--" - -"Jimmy!" - -"I know, but I can't help it, Erna. Things is different now. When I -asked you that time--well, that's all over now. You an' I's forgotten -that. So what's buried's buried. An' times is different now. You've got -a job, though it's a punk one. I've got a little money an' more to come, -an' I've cut drinkin'. My health's fine an' prospects great. After I -finish 'the Kid' there'll be Young Walcott--an' after Walcott, a bunch -o' others--" - -"But Jimmy--" - -"Don't butt in!" he begged seriously. "Now, I know you hate that job o' -yours--" - -"It ain't all cheese an' honey," she confessed. - -"No, an' it never will be. Now, why can't you pull up stakes--" - -"Jimmy!" - -"Don't butt in!" he begged more seriously. "This is different than last -time. I'm a--a respectable man now an' you're a respectable woman." - -"Always have been," she cautioned him. - -"I know," he hastened to admit. "What I've been tryin' to say is: Keep -your job a little longer if you want to, till I go on with mine an' get -lots o' dough. In the meanwhile--" He stopped. - -"Well?" she ventured, but with an ominous inflection. - -"I'll rent the little flat off Nolan, an' you an' I can--" - -"Jimmy!" - -"But I'm askin' you to _marry_ me this time," he protested. - -"I know." - -"Ain't that different?" - -"No." - -"Why not?" - -"Because it ain't." - -"Why not?" - -"Because it ain't." - -"But Erna--" - -"Now listen, Jimmy! You promised not to go too far." - -"Oh shucks!" he broke out. - -They were silent. He let go her hand and drew away a short distance. She -removed her hand rather reluctantly. Once or twice, she pushed against -his shoulder. But he would not respond. - -The romantic pictures disappeared, and the music ceased. The lights were -turned on. There was a sigh throughout the audience. Erna and Jimmy -seemed glad of the change as well. A little sooner, they would have been -sorry. - -She glanced his way. He was not looking in her direction. She nudged -him. He still refused to turn his head. "Jimmy," she whispered tenderly. - -He stole a half glance at her. She was smiling in invitation. He could -not help smiling too. - -"You all right now?" she ventured. - -He turned toward her, and instantly, his ever-ready laugh dispelled -their gloom. - -"You all right?" she repeated. - -"Yes," he admitted, and declared: "Some scrap that!" - -"No, it wasn't," she reassured him and smiled with revived mischief. - -Their hands fell back to their natural occupation. - -"Turn out the lights!" Jimmy commanded in so loud a tone that most of -their neighbors, as well as Erna, giggled. - -A German comedian made his appearance and offered the usual monologue. -No musical accompaniment was required for this act; therefore, Carstairs -had disappeared under the stage. He had not seen Erna and Jimmy, nor -they him. - - - - - V - - -Carstairs was waiting at the street corner rendezvous early the -following Sunday evening. Impatience had kept him company all day, a -long day, but the impatience he felt now was even keener. He had been -ahead of their appointment by about twenty minutes, for he was afraid -that Erna might be there first. His vigil was that much the longer and -more trying. What hours it took for minutes to pass! Suppose she did not -come? - -The fates, however, were good-humored. He could see an athletic figure -coming along at a familiar leisurely pace. It was Erna. His joy and -excitement were such that he could scarcely wait for her to reach him. -What made her walk so slowly? - -"Hello," was her soft cheery greeting. - -He had avoided the bakery restaurant all day. He could hardly return her -salutation, the last of his courage having fled. - -"Where--where shall we go?" he questioned. - -"Anywhere," she agreed genially. - -Now was his opportunity. He must ask her. Of course, they could not walk -the streets the whole of his two hours' freedom. Nor could they go to -the theatre so early. Would she sense these arguments? Moreover, they -had been to a restaurant for a little refreshment and conversation on -their two former outings. She had not enjoyed those visits particularly, -reminding her, as they must have, of her daily life at Landsmann's. - -"It's a little bit too cold," he ventured. - -"Not so very," she returned mischievously, as they started walking. - -He was frightened. "But--" - -She was enjoying his embarrassment, but came to his assistance with: -"Well, where _shall_ we go? It's up to you. You did the invitin'." - -"I've got nearly two hours," he explained. "Can you stay out that long?" - -"I'm off for the rest o' the night," she assured him; "but I ought to be -back under the quilt by ten. I'm a bit tired." - -"Of course, you are," he agreed hurriedly--this was another -opportunity--"so we mustn't do any walking. Do you--would you like to -come--" - -"Yes." - -"How would you like to come over to my place?" - -It was out. What would she say? - -"Will anybody else be there?" - -"Oh no!" - -"It's over there on Fourteenth Street somewhere, ain't it?" - -"Yes." - -"I don't mind," she said. - -Joy and excitement overwhelmed him. He could not speak. And he had -imagined all along that it would be so difficult to induce her to come. -He did not know what to say. - -"Do we cross here?" she suggested. - -"Yes," he said in a low tone. - -The need of politeness forced itself upon him. Timidly, he took her arm -and led her across the street. As a matter of fact, it was she, who was -so much stronger and more daring than he, who had done the leading. They -reached the opposite side, and walked along in silence. After a minute -or so, they approached an old building. - -"Here it is," he declared nervously and let go her arm. - -They climbed three smelly flights of stairs, followed a dark hallway and -came to a halt. He took out his keys and opened a door. "Step in," he -requested. - -"You've got the light lit," she announced. - -"Yes, I thought it'd be--" - -"It's awful nice here." - -"Do you think so?" he questioned eagerly, greatly encouraged. "But it's -such a small, dingy place." - -"Oh no," she maintained. "It's nice an' cosy." - -Erna walked about, examining articles with her inquisitive eyes. "So -this is your piano?" - -"Yes, it's an old box." - -"No, it's nice lookin'. An' whose picture is that?" - -"My mother's." - -"An' that one?" - -"Oh that--that's only--" - -"An old _friend_?" she assisted him. - -"Yes," he agreed, and his blushes appeared. - -Fortunately, Erna's back was turned. But she knew he was blushing, and -her face lighted with pleasure. She examined other articles. - -Carstairs asked quickly: "Won't you take off your things?" - -Slowly, she removed her coat and hat, and fixed her hair at a small -looking glass. "Men use these things too," she observed. - -"Yes, we do," he echoed, and put her things on the couch, where he -likewise laid his own. - -"Sit down," he advised. - -"Over here?" - -"Yes." - -"Oh, this is a nice soft chair." - -Carstairs walked about a while. He was so nervous that he did not know -what to do. Nevertheless, he realized that he must offer to entertain -her. At least, he must say something. - -But Erna spoke first. "What makes you walk around?" - -"Oh nothing," he returned abruptly, looked about in confusion and -finally selected the piano stool, which, however, was so close to Erna's -chair that his confusion grew. The girl, herself, had betrayed a little -embarrassment once or twice, but she had conquered its last sign. This -was perhaps possible because of her enjoyment of Carstairs' rather -pathetic condition. Erna loved and craved praise or flattery, and the -young composer's substitute for them was certainly a decided tribute. - -"It's awful nice here," she repeated. - -"I'm glad you think so," he responded gratefully, and glanced toward -her, only to look away. - -"It's kind o' restful too." - -This was an excellent opening. - -"You must be very tired," he declared. - -"A little bit." - -"You've been working all day?" - -"Since six-thirty this morning." - -"Lord, then you must be tired." - -"Not so very much," she denied with pride. "I can stand work." - -He dared a glance at her strong body and her bold eyes. How splendid she -was! - -"But _you_ must be tired," she continued. - -"Yes,--no, only a very little." - -"You've been workin' all day too." - -"At the afternoon performance. I didn't get away until six o'clock." - -"An' you go on to-night?" - -"From nine to eleven, yes," he explained, and felt ashamed that he was -so weary. And she had been working in that stuffy, unhealthy dining room -and kitchen since half-past six and was as cheerful as ever. - -"You'll be needin' a rest now," she went on. - -"Oh no!" he hastily assured her. - -"Then will you play for me? I never heard you play, an' I've heard Mr. -Breen an' Mr. Nielsen talk so much about you." - -"They are flatterers," he said, with a self-conscious laugh. "But if -you'd like--if you--would you really like to have me?" - -"Of course." - -This was his next opportunity, but again, his courage would not assist -him. What should he play? "Do you really feel like listening?" he began -once more. - -"Of course--I like music," she argued. - -There was nothing else to do. He had better start playing. And Carstairs -turned on the stool. "What shall I play for you?" - -"Anything at all." - -"But wouldn't you rather--" - -"Play somethin' you like yourself," she interrupted. - -Carstairs hesitated. He had not had the faintest idea how difficult it -would be. Moreover, he could feel her soft brown eyes resting on him. -And he had been vowing such wonderful deeds of late: that he would play -for her as he never had for any one--that he would play her composition, -which belonged so naturally to her. Instead, he could scarcely touch a -key. - -A spirit of self-condemnation took possession of him. He must forget -himself. She would think him a fool. Besides, she might learn how much -he--No, she must not learn that. He commenced improvising. - -The young composer blundered considerably at first, but his -self-resentment helped him, and his efforts soon displayed more -coherence and warmth. Should he open his program with "To Thee"? Why -not? Why wait until later? But she might understand. She might catch its -significance and then--But how could she know that he had written the -composition? It might just as easily belong to some other composer. Yes, -he would play it. - -"Are you ready?" he asked with attempted levity. - -"Of course, don't stop!" she encouraged him. - -Carstairs played "To Thee", at first, with timidity and uncertainty, but -by and by with more resolution and consequent expressiveness as his -faith in the composition, as an expression of himself, returned. -Gradually, too, he realized how appropriate was the mood that flowed -through its measures. - -Erna watched him. A greedy little smile played about the corners of her -mouth and her nose twitched slightly. But the corners straightened and -her nose stopped twitching. - -No, he was too soft. His shoulders were so weak and his hands so small -and his face so pale--just like his nature. He belonged to his mother up -there and to that soft pretty face over there. But he was a nice, decent -fellow. And he was lots of fun, he was so different from other men. But -he was sad. She loved joy and freedom. He seemed like a mean little -prisoner, and he made her feel soft too. But he had always been decent -toward her. Yes, he belonged to such as his mother and the pretty face. -Anyhow, he knew how to play the piano.... What a different time she had -had last night! Jimmy was such a big, strong, happy fellow. But even he -did not quite satisfy her. Erna sighed just a little. - -She regained immediate control of herself and stopped studying -Carstairs. Instead, she followed the patterns in the small rug at her -feet. Presently, she gave herself up to the music. It was very pretty. -It sounded familiar too. - -Carstairs finished playing. - -"I like that," she said instantly. - -"Do you?" he demanded, wheeling toward her. - -"Yes, it's awful nice," she complimented him. - -He brightened perceptibly. "Do you really think so? Do you really like -it?" - -"Of course!" - -He could not repress his emotion. "Do you--I--what do you think?" he -asked with enthusiasm. - -"What?" - -"Do you know who wrote that?" - -"No." - -"I wrote that," he broke out, and leaned forward. - -"You did?" - -"Yes!" - -"It's awful nice," she repeated. - -This was not very strong applause, but it was more than sufficient for -Carstairs, and he grew reckless. In one moment, he had confessed himself -the author of the work, and in the next, such was his present rashness, -he was about to go much farther. - -"How would you like--" but he stopped, and smiled in a happy way. - -"What?" she urged him. - -"You're sure you like it?" he repeated. - -"Yes." - -"Would you like to have it?" he asked with sudden boldness. - -"What do you mean?" - -"Don't you understand?" he rambled on, and explained: "Composers, you -know, write songs and piano pieces and orchestral works, and afterward -they often dedicate them to somebody--to one of their friends or--or one -of their relatives. Do you understand?" - -"Yes." - -"That's what I want to do," he continued excitedly. "I wrote the -piece--it's nothing wonderful, but I--I put myself into it and--and you -like it--" - -"Yes." - -"So I'd like to give it to you." - -"But I don't play," she protested. - -"That isn't the point," he declared. "I'm dedicating it to you--that is, -your name appears on it: first, the name of the composition, then my -name, as composer, and then 'to Miss Erna Vitek.' Do you see?" - -"Oh yes!" - -"Do you like the idea?" - -"Yes, that's fine." - -"Great!" he cried. - -"But what's the name o' the piece?" she requested quietly. - -"Why, I--I gave it a name--but suppose I call it simply: 'A Song'?" - -"Yes." - -"Sure! That'd be a nice title, wouldn't it?" - -"Yes." - -His emotions threatened to run over. He wanted to tell her the rest: -that, as a matter of fact, she had been the one to inspire the -composition--his inspiration--but, well, that would be going too far. -She would be learning too much. But this was the happiest day of his -life. He had made a long stride, even over the evening when, for a few -confidential minutes, she had confided to him those details of her past -relation with Allen. He must compose many compositions for her. - -Carstairs played other music, composition after composition, many of -them his own, but all the while he waited to hear Erna ask him to repeat -her composition. She did not do so at once, but eventually, bored--to -tell the truth--by the incessant flow of music, she made the request. -Overjoyed, he repeated the work, and every measure lingered, breathed -and swayed with the mood of its creator. Near the close, Erna succeeded -in stifling a yawn. - -It was after nine o'clock when Carstairs conducted her down the three -flights. He would receive a reprimand and fine when he reported at the -music hall. But what did he care? - -The young composer did not return to his sanctum until eleven thirty. He -quickly lit the gas. At the theatre, a thought had come to torment him, -as he had rehearsed the evening's doings and joys many times over. He -went to the piano and took down the picture of the girl. Presently, he -buried it under a heap of odds and ends that littered the drawer of a -bureau, and said to himself for at least the fiftieth time: "What a -careless damned fool I am!" - - - - - VI - - -It was early the next afternoon. Breen and Nielsen were arguing in the -former's studio: a large unusually well furnished and attractively -decorated West Fourteenth Street skylight room. - -"Now, you clear out of here!" Breen was commanding. "She'll be here -right away." - -"Sure she won't disappoint thee?" Nielsen mocked pleasantly. - -"No, I saw her this morning and this noon for a moment, and she intends -keeping her royal promise." - -"How about the rouge garment?" - -"She hasn't had time to alter it." - -"That won't make any difference, of course," Nielsen ventured in -provoking tones. - -"Go on! Clear out of here!" Breen repeated. - -"You painters!" sang Nielsen, as he backed toward the door. - -"We're no worse than you fellows are," Breen retorted. "Besides, this -afternoon is no more and no less than an experiment in line with the -contract of our triumvirate. Your inning will come, especially as you -are writing a story, for which purpose--" - -"I know," Nielsen admitted with cheerful slyness. "And I really need -Erna to help me with it." - -"And Carstairs will have to contribute his share of the contract, unless -he persists in that 'count me out' air of his." - -"Oh, he'll come around, in his own way," was Nielsen's confident -assurance. "I saw him this morning, by the way--the first time I've seen -him at Landsmann's in several days." - -"How is he?" - -"Unusually cheery and affable." - -"He'll recover from that foolishness." - -"I think so too, but--" - -"Now, get out!" Breen commanded a third time. "You'll be gossipping here -forever." - -Nielsen took hold of the door knob, smiled in an aggravating manner, -opened the door, bowed low and said in a droll tone: "Moral or unmoral, -but--?" - -Breen followed him, but Nielsen escaped, and the painter slammed the -door. His mood changed instantly. He bustled around the studio, fixing -this and rearranging that object and eventually looked about with -satisfaction. He then approached a looking glass, readjusted his tie, -smoothed his hair with his hand and otherwise subjected himself to a -critical but self-satisfied examination, which, however, was cut short -by a knock at the door. He hurried over to the door and opened it. "Come -in!" he said cordially and stepped aside for Erna. - -She was wearing her best clothes, which were very attractive on her. -Unfortunately, the only red in the picture was a profusion of ribbons on -her black hat and a neat tie--but fortunately, her red cheeks and lips -were not missing. Altogether, Erna was a seductive apparition. - -Certainly, this was Breen's opinion too. "How charming you look, your -Ladyship!" he exclaimed. - -"Do I?" she retorted, smiling. - -"Oh decidedly, decidedly," and Breen bowed in anticipation of a pleasant -afternoon. Bringing all of his courtesy to the surface, he helped Erna -to remove her coat. She went over to the looking glass, laughed, cried: -"You've got a glass too," and took off her hat with careless ease. - -"What do you mean?" demanded Breen, standing behind her and surveying -her reflection with open admiration. - -"Nothin'," she returned rather impudently. - -"A lovely girl that!" he added significantly. - -"Think so?" she challenged. - -"Decidedly," he repeated. - -She shrugged her shoulders a little and smiled at him in the glass. -Breen's interest grew. He tried to put his hands on her shoulders, by -way of confidence, but Erna turned toward him with a quick supple -movement. Like the accomplished artist she was, she said nothing, not -even by way of reproach, but laughed again. He eyed her with still -franker admiration. - -"Well?" she questioned. - -"Oh, I know," he said, recollecting his rôle, and went on evasively: -"But you're not wearing your red dress or very much red?" - -"What difference does that make? Maybe you'd rather have me come some -other time?" - -"No, no! You stay right here, now that you've come. You'll do just as -well in that costume. The same Erna Vitek is inside it. But--er--" - -"But what?" - -"I won't attempt a color sketch of you in that dress. There, there, -forgive me--it's very charming, my dear, but-- Perhaps, I'll just make a -pencil sketch of you to-day. Artists ought to commence with pencil -sketches anyhow, until the characters of their subjects have had time to -properly enter their blood, so to speak. Which, of course, is all Greek -to you. Do you object, madame?" - -"No, do me any way you like," she consented. - -"Oh, if you feel that way about it," he hinted audaciously. - -"Take care!" she warned. - -Breen went over to the model throne and pretended to place the chair for -her. He was sorry that he had had to suggest even a pencil sketch of -her, but he was forced to attempt some part of their original agreement. -What is more, he had practically cast away all thought of "studying" -Erna, later to make his report before the triumvirate. She was too -interesting and magnetic an individual to be used for such a childish -purpose. "Come over here and sit down," he requested calmly. - -Giving herself an unexpected air of modesty, she complied, at the same -time adding a prudish touch by fixing her skirt carefully as she sat -down. Breen was puzzled, but drew up a chair, took a pencil and sketch -book and seated himself. "I'm going ta draw you at close range," he -apologized. She smiled in encouragement. - -Breen commenced drawing, very carelessly, it is true. Erna watched him -with innocent eyes. "Do I pose right?" she asked at length. - -"Yes," he assured her. - -She was silent. - -A little later, she asked: "Do your models have to keep quiet?" - -"Not at all! Chatter away!" - -But she preferred to remain silent. To tell the truth, this was not -Erna's first experience as a sitter. She had posed for two or three -other artists in the past: once as Carmen, another time as a madonna, -and a third time for some allegorical effort concerning Spring. Breen -continued to study her for the drawing. His mind, however, or that -region wherein its desires lay, was more busy than his pencil. Ten -minutes or so later, he stopped drawing and held the pad off, squinted -one eye at Erna, then at the drawing and again at Erna. - -"Do you like being winked at?" he asked. - -"Depends upon who's doin' it," she commented. - -"Don't you like me to do it?" - -"I don't know," she replied enigmatically. - -He got up from his chair and approached her. - -"Bring the picture with you!" she requested. - -Breen, however, once more tried to put his hands on her. She pushed back -her chair, and in outraged tones commanded: "Mr. Breen!" - -"I beg your pardon," he said with well assumed candor, but he was -irritated to a considerable degree. "I merely wanted to change your pose -a bit." - -"Well, why didn't you ask _me_ to do it?" she complained, her innocent -self again. - -He returned to his chair without explaining. - -"Am I all right now?" she asked. - -"Pull your chair forward again." - -"So?" - -"That'll do." - -Erna watched him as before, and Breen went on drawing. But his usually -well balanced mind was ruffled. He tried to construct some other scheme. -Erna had always been quite prone (after all, she was only a waitress) to -permit occasional familiarity on his part at Landsmann's. What made her -play the prude away from home? Perhaps she was, at heart, like the rest -of her class, nothing more than a narrow moralistic thing, and not the -unmoral soul he had constantly given her credit for being. His disgust -was supreme. On the contrary, he mused, she might only be playing a -part. Admitting that Erna, in society, only held the position of -waitress, still, she was a very shrewd girl. He must try some other -attack, allowing her the credit she deserved. He had attempted flattery, -pleasantry and not a little boldness. What should be his next step? - -Eventually, the young artist tried bribery. Having finished his work, he -presented it to Erna accompanied by a short but eloquently complimentary -speech. The girl did not neglect to admire the drawing and to thank him -for the present. His act, apparently, made no stronger impression on -her. Later, he suggested and, with her consent, prepared and served some -tea and biscuits. They were sitting at a small cosy table. About them, -the atmosphere had spread a halo of warmth and intimacy. And Breen -played host and admirer to the best of his accomplished ability. But -Erna refused to respond any more than she had done earlier. She appeared -grateful; she talked a good deal; and she seemed completely at ease with -Breen and her surroundings. But she would not respond more than she had -done. Breen's disgust threatened to reach a climax. - -There was a reason for Erna's conduct. She, in her greed of heart, -playing with Breen, as she had with Carstairs, the part of a watchful -cat, had come to several conclusions. She disliked the artist's long, -angular figure, his sharp, shrewd face, and most of all, his cold, -self-sympathetic eyes. And she disliked him personally even more. -Without claiming any undue powers of discernment for Erna, one would -surely have had to credit her with the possession of a strong feminine -instinct. Her instinct had resented his attentions, for, behind them -all, she had felt that he, as a gentleman, was shoving her down where -she belonged. She was a waitress, but she was good looking enough and -lots of fun for him--and much more in prospect. In a word, Breen had -brought out the hard calculating side of her nature, and she had raised -her guard against him. - -Furthermore, Erna was in a bad humor when she came to Breen's studio, -her genial conduct notwithstanding. She had seen Jimmy that noon in the -dining room, but he had spent all of his time talking fight with the -customers. As though the fact that he was to turn to the ring to-morrow -night would bring the world to an end! She would pay him for neglecting -her. Besides, Mr. Nielsen had been approaching her. He had been asking -her to "pose" for him too. Did he also want to take advantage of her? -Still, there was something human inside of him. He had always acted a -little differently from the others. As for Jimmy-- - -Breen interrupted her reflection. He reached across the table and tried -to touch her hand. Erna's face flushed with anger, and her hand came -down upon his with a loud slap. Just as quickly, she recollected -herself. "Excuse me!" she asked sullenly. - -Breen, however, was through. He arose from his chair. This had been -impudence beyond all impudence. And the man of success turned his back -upon the waitress. - -Erna likewise got up, leaving the sketch on the table. She did not offer -a second apology. Instead, she drew on her coat, picked up her hat and -walked over to the glass. Her face was crimson. - -Breen was quite sorry. He came behind Erna and made several attempts to -clear some momentary pangs of conscience. But Erna would not listen. He -moved away, pride clouding his face. - -Erna hurried toward the door. Breen followed her, offering one or two -final excuses. But she refused to answer, and went out. Breen slammed -the door behind her. Presently, he was busy pacing the studio in a vain -endeavor to regain some of his composure. - -Steps were to be heard coming along the hallway. The door was opened -cautiously, and Nielsen's head and shoulders appeared. And his caressing -voice questioned: "Well, your Highness, what is your decision? Moral, -unmoral or--?" - -Breen faced about, swore a strong oath and commanded: "Get out of here!" - -"But, dear Bainbridge--" - -"Get out, you spy!" Breen continued angrily, and went toward the door. - -"But I want to know your decision." - -"Moral, moral, a million times moral--she has degenerated--in fact, she -hasn't even degenerated. I wouldn't do her the honor of saying so. She's -always been a narrow, conventional, contemptible little thing. Is that -enough, you ass? She's a--" - -"Enough, noble Sire!" Nielsen interrupted with a mysterious air. "Thou -hast spoken. Enough!" Luckily, his head and shoulders disappeared just -in time. - -Breen slammed the door. - - - - - VII - - -Wednesday morning was a particularly noisy morning in the rear dining -room of Landsmann's. Jimmy Allen was the hero. On the night before, he -had knocked out his opponent toward the close of the first round. Some -of his admirers had met at Landsmann's to discuss and celebrate the -event, and one who had been present was supplying the others with the -details. - -"An' toward the end o' the round," he was describing, "Jimmy ducked -under the poor 'Kid's' flabby guard an' caught 'im an awful soak in the -guts, an' as 'the Kid' doubled up, Jimmy swung the finisher--it was a -terror!--right on the point o' the jaw. 'The Kid' hit the mat deader -than a door nail. An' they carried 'im away, a smashed hope inside o' -three minutes." - -The listeners clamored for more, and one of them queried: "But I thought -'the Kid' was such a clever sidestepper?" - -"He is, but he couldn't sidestep Jimmy. Jimmy's a terror in the ring. -He's a good-natured feller outside, but the sight of another feller in -front of 'im kind o' riles 'is blood. He can't rest till he's battered -the guy away, an' let 'im see a little blood, like 'the Kid's' mouth -bleedin', an' it's all off 'cept the count, for Jimmy goes wild. He got -to 'the Kid' by constant borein' in. Half a dozen fierce body taps -weakened the poor guy, then a couple o' face smashers, an' then the -finish. Oh, it was awful." - -The listeners sighed with awe. "An' Jimmy?" requested the interlocutor. - -"Oh, he got a scratch or two. But he was 'is smilin' self soon's it was -over." - -Standing near the doorway, listening to every word with feverish -interest, was Erna. Her eyes shone, and her heart beat with joyous -pride. - -Landsmann suddenly called to her from the kitchen: "Erna, your order is -here." She did not heed him, but waited for more details. Again, the -storekeeper called to her, but once more, she refused to heed him. The -man appeared in the doorway, his face red with vexation. "Erna! Do you -hear me?" - -"Yes, yes," she retorted petulantly, and hurried past him. He followed -close behind her, and as she turned, gave her a stupid but indignant -stare. Erna returned his stare with interest, and Landsmann, beaten as -he had been so often, retreated to the store, there to seek muttered -consultation with his wife. - -Erna was about to take up her order, when she came upon a remarkable -sight. She stopped, stared and, stimulated by a desire to emulate, -tiptoed forward, her strong white teeth showing in the joy of -anticipation. On the bottom of the kitchen sink, a goodly sized rat was -drinking. - -The girl continued to sneak forward without making a sound. Suddenly, -her hand darted out and seized the rat by the neck; at the same time, -she turned on the water from the large faucet. With a strong grip, she -held the squirming, squeaking animal under the stream. - -Gretchen screamed and ran out into the store. "_Was ist los?_" demanded -the storekeeper. Gretchen told her story in a frightened whisper. Mrs. -Landsmann and Molly screamed; several customers arose and, led by -Landsmann, who waddled forward, came into the kitchen. Landsmann stopped -short at a respectful distance from Erna, eyed her furiously and shouted -imprecations. She paid no attention to him, but continued her pleasant -task, her face alight with animal joy and brutality. The rat's life was -soon extinguished, due, perhaps, more to Erna's fingers than the water. -Proudly holding it out by the tail for display, she dropped the body -into a pail under the sink. - -The storekeeper approached her, followed by the customers. The latter -profferred congratulations, but not so Herr Landsmann. He grabbed some -table refuse and dumping it into the pail, piled some old newspapers on -top, all the while averting his face as much as possible. He then turned -upon Erna, but she stood her ground, defying him, and the storekeeper -was forced to resort to still stronger imprecation. Erna grew impudent -in the knowledge of her righteousness, and Landsmann had to retreat once -more, but this time with threatening gestures and for an even angrier -consultation with his wife. The other waitresses refused to return to -the kitchen, but went over to assist Landsmann. - -The customers, who had been joined by others from the rear dining room, -refused to leave the kitchen, each one wishing to pay Erna homage by -compliment or by taking her arm. Jimmy Allen was forgotten. At first, -the girl, conscious of the sensation she had created so -accidentally,--killing rats was not entirely new to her--faced her -worshippers with an exultant smile. Soon, she tired of their praise, and -more so of their physical attentions, a repetition of their usual -conduct toward her. Furthermore, the storekeeper's attitude rankled -deeper and deeper, until anger controlled her. Therefore, she pushed her -way through the gathering, ordered all back to their tables, a command -they obeyed under protest, and returned to her duties with a decidedly -willful air. If only Jimmy were here! - -Within the next hour or so, Herr Landsmann, backed by his wife's moral -support, came into the kitchen four times to reprimand Erna. He had even -hunted for other pretexts to scold her. By nine o'clock, when Erna was -almost alone in her small empire, her resentment had reached a state of -revolt. Why didn't he bounce her at once? It would be better. In fact, -she would leave of her own free will. That would be better still. She -would be free. She had a right to be happy. She had always been happy. -So she would be free, Landsmann, his wife and the rest of the world -notwithstanding. How she hated and despised them! Let any one else try -to tie her hands! - -Another half hour passed, and Erna's determination grew. Her whole -fighting instinct had been set astir. As a result, she had treated the -few remaining customers with contemptuous neglect. They were all of one -breed. And they left, one by one, passing remarks, laughing or trying to -banter her. Soon she was left to herself and surly reflection, as -Landsmann, luckily, had discontinued molesting her--for the present, at -least. However, a newcomer entered the dining room. But he was the -highly welcome Jimmy Allen. - -Erna greeted him with joy. She had forgotten her yesterday's resentment, -in his sudden rise to honor and in her present need. And Jimmy greeted -her with joy. No other word passed between them. Instead, Jimmy embraced -her with all of his brute strength. He then tried kissing her, only to -have Erna slip from his grasp. Jimmy's blood was aroused. He pursued -Erna, cornered her and caught her with an even stronger embrace than -before, breathing hard with passion. They overturned a chair, and Jimmy -tripped and lost his hold. They both breathed rapidly, and stood apart, -watching each other. Herr Landsmann looked into the dining room, scowled -and disappeared. - -Jimmy again came closer, but Erna shook her head in warning. She had -seen the storekeeper. Presently, she gave her lover a short nervous -account of her morning's trial. Jimmy swore a generous oath and begged -her to drop her work at once. But Erna hesitated. - -"Ah, come out o' this!" he pleaded. - -Erna would not answer. - -"Come out o' this, Erna!" he repeated seriously. "You're sick o' this. -I'm sick o' this. Let's go away. We're fixed now--or as good as fixed. -The only job's the minister's. Come on, Erna!" - -Still, the girl refused to answer, but it was evident that she was -weakening--as Jimmy was aware too. Hurriedly, he recounted his victory -of last night, emphasized the fact that he was stronger than ever, knew -"more about the game," and outlined the near future: that he was soon to -meet Young Walcott, whom he would dispose of, and some unknown from -Chicago. He would have quite a little money shortly, and he could -support her "as a decent woman should be supported." She would be happy. -They would both be happy. "Come on, Erna!" he concluded. "Be a sport!" - -Erna was in a groggy state. One last stinging argument would have -finished her. She hesitated, as did Jimmy, who, unfortunately, resorted -to stalling. - -At length, she said: "Gimme until to-night!" - -Now, Jimmy missed entirely: "But I say, Erna. I got an important date -then." - -Her resentment returned at once. She recalled his neglect of yesterday. -"What?" she demanded jealously. - -"I got to see Nolan an' Walcott an' his manager to-night. We got to talk -over an' arrange things. Besides, Nolan's givin' a little spread in my -honor among the boys. Can't you tell me now? Tell me now!" - -"I said _to-night_, didn't I?" she retorted in dangerous tones. - -"I know, Erna, but I can't see you to-night. Make it to-morrow night, -an' we'll talk it over, long's you won't say now. Make it to-morrow -night! An' I'll spend the whole evenin' with you." - -Erna had turned her back on him. Jimmy came closer, but she walked away, -while he followed her, foolishly continuing to apologize and to cajole -her. Unhappily, Jimmy's suit was interrupted. Another man came into the -dining room: Eric Nielsen. - -Glances passed between them. Nielsen went over to the farthermost -corner, took off his hat and coat and sat down. Jimmy looked at Erna on -the sly, but she paid no attention to him. The young fighter did not -stay for breakfast. He left the room without another word. And Erna -smiled secretly. - -Nielsen, always a lover of other's secrets, had digested most of the -scene. But he was still a diplomat. Consequently, he said nothing and -permitted Erna to come over for his order. She looked nervous and -uncertain. - -"What's new?" he asked pleasantly. - -"Nothin'." - -"Still ham and eggs and the old program?" - -She smiled slightly. "Yes!" - -He ordered some eggs, toast and a cup of black coffee and explained: "I -need some energy for work this morning. I feel dopy." - -Erna smiled again and went away. She was feeling a little better. There -was always something soothing in Nielsen and his banter. And she did not -wait in the kitchen for his order, but came back to his table. Erna -rarely acted parts in Nielsen's company. - -He looked up sympathetically. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but -knowing her antipathy for expressed sympathy or soft advances, remained -silent. Herr Landsmann looked in upon them. Erna flushed with her old -resentment, and the storekeeper frowned and disappeared. Nielsen -remarked the exchange. "That's it, is it?" he observed gently. - -"What?" - -"The boss?" - -She was thoughtful and then admitted: "Yes." - -"What's the Dutchman done?" - -Slowly, and not without reluctance in the beginning, she told him the -details, he interrupting her once or twice with encouragement. "Shades -of Norway!" he exclaimed in admiration. "You could easily play the -Rat-wife in 'Little Eyolf'." - -She looked at him in a puzzled way, but he laughed and advised her: -"Don't mind me; I'm cracked. Go on!" - -Erna related the rest of the incident. He was quietly attentive to every -detail, and at the conclusion of her recital, broke out cheerfully: "The -trouble with the German is that he's too slow to catch even a cockroach. -Therefore, he resents speed. So Landsmann calls you down. And the -girls--well, they're children, like most females. You're entirely too -dramatic for their comfort." - -Erna never quite understood Nielsen, but she mellowed down to some of -her old good nature. Nielsen continued his reassuring nonsense, and -gradually, the rest of her good nature was restored. The young writer -was not slow to notice the change, and he was glad to have been of -service to her. He had no desire to make any personal use of Erna's -present mental condition, but nevertheless, he proceeded: "Erna, you -must be tired." - -"Yes?" - -"Certainly. You need a little rest--a little diversion. Let me help you -out; there's a sensible girl. Will you come over and spend part of the -evening with me?" - -His request had not been a bold one; he had made it seriously, and with -no thought of himself. But Erna gave him a sharp look. He met her glance -with an honest one and pursued: "I don't want you to pose for the story, -as I asked you yesterday--honestly, I don't. I just want to amuse you a -little, if I can. You need a bit of a change, even by having me supply -it." - -This was approaching dangerously close to a soft advance, but Erna did -not heed it. She was still busy trying to read Nielsen, but reading -Nielsen was not so easy as appearances would have led one to believe. -However, she was able to read humanity behind his lurking smile, and -likewise his seriousness of purpose. "I don't know," she said in doubt. - -"You're not afraid?" - -"No," she admitted. - -"Come ahead then. We'll have a quiet little evening together, or you can -tell me some more about your enemies, German and others. As for posing, -I'll do the posing, such as standing on my head, for example." - -Erna had always felt that Nielsen was human. It now come as a -realization. She gave him a final penetrating glance. He smiled frankly, -and she had to smile as well. "All right," she resigned. - -"You're a good sport, Erna," he complimented her. "But you're too -trusting, I'm afraid." - -"Think so?" - -"Yes." - -She looked somewhat doubtful, and then her face cleared. Nielsen -understood. - -"Your order's ready, Erna," came Landsmann's voice. - -And the girl hurried out. - - - - - VIII - - -Erna was in a splendid mood when she called on Nielsen that evening. In -the first place, the young Norwegian-American had earned her gratitude. -Secondly, and what is perhaps more important, Jimmy Allen had come into -Landsmann's both for the noon and the evening meal and had paid her -humble devotion. She had agreed to spend to-morrow evening with him, but -principally that she might add coal to the fire of his impatience by -putting off her answer, which she had not formed as yet but in the -existence of which she had succeeded in leading him to believe. Thirdly, -she had had two more tilts with Landsmann and was victorious in both. -Consequently, Erna was in high spirit. In addition, her greedy nature -was looking forward to the new sensation that life might be on the point -of offering her in Nielsen. - -It was evident at once that he was likewise in the best of humor. His -greeting of Erna was of the heartiest cordiality and cheer. And he -required only a minute or two to settle her comfortably on the couch and -to make her feel otherwise at home. She was not surprised. On the -contrary, she entered immediately into the mood of the young writer's -hospitality. - -"Well, Rat-wife, how've you been?" he commenced. "I haven't seen you -since this morning." - -"Why do you call me Rat-wife?" - -"Because you're a professional rat catcher." - -"I've caught rats before," she confessed. - -"Have you? Great! I always thought you must have had another vocation in -life." - -"But I hate caterpillars, don't you?" she declared naïvely. - -"By all means," he agreed. "They give one the fuzzy-wuzzies, don't -they?" - -They both laughed. He drew his chair closer to the couch and watched her -frankly. She watched him with equal candor. There was honest admiration -in his next remark: "You're strong, aren't you, Erna?" - -"Yes." - -"How'd you get that way?" he pursued. - -"I must 'a' been born that way. I guess my father an' mother were strong -an' healthy. Any way, I exercise a great deal--" - -"In the store, you mean?" - -"No, at night, by the open window, in--" - -"Not in the nude?" he ventured. - -"Not quite, but almost!" she admitted, and they laughed again. - -"But Erna, what made you say you _guess_ your father and mother were -strong? Don't you know whether they were? Aren't they alive?" - -She looked at him suddenly, but his straightforward glance reassured -her. She announced quietly: "I never saw my parents." - -"What?" he broke out. "Then how--but I beg your pardon, child. I didn't -mean to be inquisitive." - -"You're not inquisitive," she returned with unaccustomed seriousness. -"Only--" - -"I understand," he interrupted. "Don't speak of it! It's too painful. -Besides, we mustn't be growing gloomy." - -Erna was meditative. She had never confided that part of her life to any -one. It might be nice to unburden some of it. And Mr. Nielsen--he was -so--She glanced at him. - -"Please don't!" he requested. "I'd much rather you wouldn't." - -She smiled and said: "It isn't so sad; it's just kind o' funny." - -"Well, if it's funny, out with it, but if it isn't--" - -"It's kind o' funny that I should be tellin' at all." - -"To me, you mean?" - -"Yes!" - -"That's easy. You trust me; that's the reason," he explained jocularly. - -"Do I? How do you know?" - -"Oh, I'm a wise old know-it-all. Which is certainly a nice bunch of -conceit, isn't it?" - -"No," she denied good-humoredly. - -Without pretense of any sort, and completely at her ease sitting there -on the couch only a yard or two from him, she gave Nielsen a few points -in her knowledge of past years. Briefly, she laid claim to having lived -nearly all her life with adopted parents, from whom, thanks to their -continued selfishness and maltreatment, she had run away about a year -ago. These people had once informed her that her father had married some -woman of position in Bohemia, where Erna was born, and that, having -squandered her money, he had disappeared for good. Her mother had died -in giving birth to her, and her adopted parents, related to him as -cousins, had received her indirectly through some friends of her -father's, as well as money, through various mysterious channels, up to -her sixth year. The remittances stopped suddenly, and she was left a -beggar on their hands, a fact of which they were often careful to remind -her. At the age of twelve or thirteen, Erna had hunted for and found a -situation, and later others, and had been able to pay some sort of board -through the intervening years. But her "parents," who had five children -of their own, despised her and maltreated her accordingly, as did the -children, guided by the elders' precepts. Only her strength of body and -endowed pugnaciousness had saved her from greater maltreatment. - -"And this you call a funny story?" demanded Nielsen, stopping her. - -"There's nothing so very sad in it," she declared stubbornly. - -"There isn't?" - -"No." - -His admiration for her developed. Erna certainly possessed sterling -qualities. - -"But I haven't finished," she interposed. - -"Never mind, Erna. I've heard enough." - -"You haven't heard why I quit my 'parents'." - -"I don't have to," he tried to stop her. - -"There's only a little to it." - -"Well?" - -"They tried to sell me." - -"What?" - -"Just what I said." - -"What do you mean?" - -"They tried to sell me to an old admirer o' mine in Paterson." - -"You must be crazy, child." - -"No more'n you," she insisted. "The man was all ready with his money -an'--" - -"But this is impossible," he interrupted. - -"No, it isn't. I ought to know. It made me jump the track." - -"That's how you ran away?" - -"Yes." - -"A year ago?" - -"Yes. It was the last straw. They'd tried the same game twice before. I -was through." - -Nielsen eyed her in sympathy. He had not credited the whole of her -story, incoherent and almost imaginary as some of its details sounded, -but the climax had moved him deeply. He was not as superficial as his -outward demeanor might indicate. But he was still a diplomat, and -knowing Erna's nature better than ever now, did not offer her open -sympathy. Instead, he questioned: "So you wandered around New York -looking for jobs?" - -"Yes." - -"Till you landed at Landsmann's?" - -"Oh no, I had two other jobs before that." - -"Where?" - -"At other bakeries, but I was fired." - -"For--for sassing back?" he asked, smiling. - -"Yes, just as I sass old Landsmann." - -He grew serious. "Hadn't you better be careful?" - -"How?" - -"About angering Landsmann?" - -"I can't help it. I hate him. I hate Germans. My 'parents' were German -an'--" - -"He may fire you too." - -"I don't care." - -"But you don't want to be forced to run about New York again, do you?" - -Erna was about to break out, thinking of Jimmy, "I won't have to," but -substituted staring at Nielsen. He was so fine, so human, so-- - -"Never mind, Erna! Let's talk of something more cheerful." Suddenly, it -was his turn to look thoughtful. Before he was aware of himself, he -commenced: "Erna!" - -"Yes?" - -"If you ever need anybody--" - -"Yes?" - -"I mean in case you should ever lose your job--" - -"Yes?" - -"Don't hesitate to come to me for help." - -He had spoken in a more earnest tone than was his custom. Erna looked -quantities of gratitude. "Do you mean--" - -"Yes," he forestalled her. "I'm a man, Erna, or a part o' one. I know -you're a good sport, I've seen so much evidence of it. In fact, you're -as good and probably a better sport than I am"--all this with a return -to banter--"so it's up to me, if you ever need assistance." - -Erna was unable to reply. - -"Will you?" he requested more quietly. - -"Yes," she agreed, and was silent. - -Presently, he came back to the whimsical. "We're a funeral party, aren't -we?" - -"No." - -"Well, we can start a partnership as funeral directors to bury the past, -can't we?" - -"Sure!" - -Nielsen laughed, and she followed his example. - -"Erna, I envy you," he started again. - -"Why?" - -"Nothing downs you long. You're such a happy Indian that you're able to -run your world." - -"Am I?" - -"Yes. It takes happy people to run the world, you know." - -"Does it?" - -"Certainly. That's my humble belief anyhow. Dost believe in philosophy?" - -"No time for it!" she returned. - -"You're right," he applauded. "It's only a pastime for lemon natures. -Stick to your joy, Erna!" - -Erna was indulging in more abstract matters than she had ever attempted, -for she said: "I can't help it, I suppose. I love joy and happy people. -An' fresh air, strength, freedom." But it was Nielsen's fault, he used -such a subtle method of probing her. - -"That'll do, Erna," he interrupted. "You have spoken. There is nothing -to be added to fresh air, the breeder of strength, the breeder of -freedom. This ought to be enough philosophy for one day, eh? We'll have -headaches soon, won't we?" - -"Not me!" she denied, and he laughed and added: "Then I'll close the -sermon with a little text, if I may." - -"Go ahead." - -"Whatever happens," he bantered her; "stick to your freedom with your -last dying breath!" - -"Thanks!" - -The evening developed even further intimacy. And Erna soon came to -realize that she had discovered her new sensation. As for Nielsen, he -was spending an unusual evening too. Several times, he thought of Jimmy -Allen and his connection with Erna. He was a splendid joyous animal like -her. It did not surprise him that he had been restored to her favor, -they were so well mated. And he recalled the short but significant scene -he had spoiled that morning. - -Erna, surely, was a rare nature,--hard, perhaps, selfish and cruel in -many ways too, quite a little more so than others, but her strength of -will, self reliance and her stubborn pursuit of pleasure and -excitement--her life of joy--were irresistible. And she was only a -waitress. But she was far more than that, an individual, as Carstairs -had vaunted that time; she had lived a life harder to endure than that -loaded upon his educated acquaintances, for example, and yet, she, -lacking their knowledge and so called experience and wisdom, controlled -life; life did not control her. And Nielsen, who seldom overlooked -dissecting himself along with others, admitted readily that Erna -attracted him powerfully, and not in the name of the story, which he had -forgotten--for the present, anyhow. - -Erna's mind was making more rapid calculations than ever before. "Stick -to your freedom!" he had advised her. It was true. She must go on -fighting for that. But what of Jimmy--and marriage? Marriage, that word -with a bad taste, marriage even with Jimmy would steal a good portion of -her freedom. She must be careful. Besides, her power over Jimmy was so -easy just the same. And Nielsen, that puzzling human man, disconcerted -her. He was different from Jimmy. He was strong physically too, if not -quite as handsome, and he possessed a strong heart and mind, which Jimmy -did not. But his constant joking--was he really serious? She never knew -just where to find him, he eluded her so. If she were to marry, she -would never see him again, a prospect her greediness did not like to -consider, as she sat there slyly watching him, clothed in that easy, -cheerful, even-tempered strength of his. - -Erna and Nielsen did not leave the latter's workshop until close upon -midnight. The rest of the time had passed swiftly and pleasantly. Their -parting was warm to a decided degree. And they made an appointment for -the following Friday evening. - -"I'll be a night owl soon," she complained. - -"Oh no--you'll always be a Rat-wife," he corrected. - -She pressed the book under her arm--Ibsen's "Little Eyolf," which he had -lent her--and laughed. - -"Now, don't forget my text," he warned her gently, as they stood on the -dark street corner near Landsmann's, their hands clasped in friendly -embrace. - -"I won't." - -"And if there's any real trouble with Landsmann?" - -"Yes, I will," she agreed. - -He pressed her hand. - -"Good-night," she said. - -"Good-night," he returned. - -And they separated. But they both looked back twice and waved their -hands--in the old fashioned way. - - - - - IX - - -"An order of mocha tart, Erna!" - -It was Bainbridge Breen who had spoken. The girl left the dining room -with a cheery: "All right!" The young artist turned to his friends, -Carstairs and Nielsen, who were sitting with him at the rear table: -"Mocha tart is still the prince of Landsmann pastries." - -"You've made up with Erna, I see," Nielsen ventured quietly. - -"Oh, of course! I'm too busy a man to spend any time harboring -animosity. Besides, I guess I'm sufficiently broad-minded to forgive the -girl her indiscretion." - -"And on her side, she's too light-hearted to hold animosity," the author -supplied. - -"I expect so," Breen agreed generously, and then challenged: "But how -about _you_ and Erna? And how about your story?" - -"Haven't been able to finish it as yet," Nielsen returned somewhat -evasively. - -"Haven't had enough opportunity for _studying_ Erna?" - -"No, I'm not quite through." - -Breen laughed significantly, and Carstairs flushed. - -"Then you haven't reached your decision as regards Erna's morals?" the -painter continued. - -"Not just yet!" was Nielsen's response, keyed in deeper evasiveness. - -"You'll reach my conclusion absolutely," Breen closed confidently. -"She's a moral little thing." - -"Of course," Carstairs interposed indignantly. - -"Whoop-la!" cried Breen. "So you've come to _your_ decision, Brother -John? How did it happen, you sly dog?" - -"I haven't come to any decision," Carstairs denied wearily. "I told you -in the beginning what I thought of Erna." - -"That's so," Breen gave in with a tone of fatherly wisdom. "But when and -where did you find opportunity to strengthen your belief? You haven't -been coming here very often of late?" - -"That's my affair," Carstairs retorted. - -He was in a melancholy mood. Erna had been neglecting him since their -evening together. Moreover, she had treated him with more or less -indifference as well, as though his visits bored her, and had allowed -him no opening for inviting her again. - -Nielsen wisely changed the subject: "Been doing much work lately, John?" - -"Yes, I've been busy." - -"What are you doing?" - -"I've been writing a little set of piano songs," he rejoined. - -"Good for you!" Breen applauded. "There's nothing like work after all, -and we all seem engaged to that lady at present. She's the best wife in -the world." - -Nielsen smiled philosophically, but the tired expression had revisited -Carstairs' face. The trio continued eating their supper, and the -conversation strayed to other and less personal topics. - -That same evening, Erna was to meet Jimmy Allen. The hero of Landsmann's -was well ahead of their appointment time, for he was strangely excited. -He had some news to impart to Erna. - -She was ten minutes late. He did not call her attention to the fact, but -greeted her boisterously and began: "Gee, Erna! I got great news for -you." - -"Have you?" she replied with well feigned indifference. - -"What do you think? Nolan's offered to let us have the rooms free for -one month." - -"Did he?" - -"Sure! What do you think o' that? Ain't he the pippin? Ain't he the -classy guy?" - -She did not answer. They were walking slowly. He grabbed her arm. -"What's the matter now?" he demanded. - -"Nothin'." - -"You said you'd made up your mind," he maintained anxiously. - -"I said: not quite," she corrected him. - -"Oh, but you have, Erna," he pleaded. "You'll join hands with me? You're -sick o' Landsmann's. You--we're stuck on each other, an' the -minister's--Well, wait'll you see the flat!" he broke off. "That'll -settle it. Wait'll you see the _flat_!" - -"Why?" - -"I'm takin' you there," he informed her eagerly. - -"Now?" - -"Of course!" he cajoled her. "You'll come, won't you?" and he squeezed -her arm. "There's no harm in it. You don't have to like the place? It -don't hurt to see it?" - -"No." - -"Then we'll go." - -Erna was busy eyeing a millinery show window. - -"How about it?" he questioned. - -"All right." - -He sighed with relief and satisfaction. - - * * * * * - -There were two rooms and a bath. The furnishings were fairly -attractive--garish in some respects, but on the whole, adequate. Erna -admitted to herself that they surpassed her expectation, the garish -qualities, no doubt, appealing to her love of life and violent color. -But she made no such admission to Jimmy. - -He was watching her with wide open eyes. Gradually, his anxiety forsook -him and his natural cheerfulness appeared. "Well?" he asked quietly. - -Erna continued reticent. Neither of the rooms compared with Mr. -Nielsen's, which was so wonderfully cosy, but she could easily improve -them. Her woman's housekeeper instinct declared itself; it would be nice -to occupy herself making changes here and there. And it would be a nice -place to spend a few lazy hours every day, it was such a fine little -apartment. Best of all, it would be her first home.... Erna studied the -large couch for the first time and hesitated. "Stick to your freedom!" -he had advised her. Marriage? No, marriage would not be so nice. Still, -strong, broad shouldered, handsome, happy Jimmy was standing right near -her. She glanced his way. - -"Well?" he repeated. - -Erna looked away. - -"What's the matter?" he asked, and approached a little. - -She did not answer.... That other time matters were different. She had -not felt as drawn to him then as she had since his return. His offer of -money that day--well, it had been an honest one: he had cared for her, -and he had been her best friend in those days. She must do him that much -justice. And he was offering her much more now. She hated Landsmann's -more and more. She could not endure the place many days longer. And this -would be her first home. But suppose she should want to change--as she -had done so often before, due to her hatred of any steady existence? Her -hands would be tied. Marriage meant loss of freedom. She cared for -Jimmy, yes, but not quite enough. If she were only given more time for a -decision! Perhaps, Mr. Nielsen would help her to decide. But she would -not ask _him_. - -"What's the matter?" Jimmy demanded once more and with returning -anxiety. He came closer. - -Erna turned toward him. She cast aside the part she usually played with -him, and gave him the first honest glance he had received from her in -several days. He quickly put his arm about her shoulders. - -Erna turned her head away and tried to pull back, but his other arm -found its way about her. "Erna!" he begged for the last time. - -She commenced to struggle. His instincts of battle were aroused; and his -exasperation of nearly two years' standing seized this opportunity. -Heedless of her cries, he tightened his grip and pressed her breast -against his with brutal strength. There was a moment of tugging and -swaying. Suddenly, Erna raised her face, and he kissed her mouth with -the same undeniable brutality. The girl no longer struggled. But he -would not let her go. - -At length, she tried to break away, but his strength was much greater -than hers. He continued to weaken her, strong and stubborn though she -was, by more unmerciful kisses and embraces. Erna attempted to beat his -breast with what freedom her hands were permitted and not succeeding, -kicked his shins. But Jimmy, laughing with joy and suffering with -passion, hugged her with such finality that she was left powerless. - -As usual, that old but simple law of physics, concerning the continued -contact of bodies, was vindicated. Soon after, it was satisfied. Erna -and Jimmy did not rise from the couch for nearly three hours. - -Erna was tired, but happy. She looked at Jimmy. He laughed. She laughed -too. And then they laughed together. Suddenly, she became serious. - -"What's the trouble?" he questioned. - -Erna looked at him differently now, but her seriousness soon fled. After -all, just as posing for Breen had not been quite new to her, so her -present experience was not quite new. Furthermore, Erna possessed -unlimited gameness. Life had never been able to throw her for a long -fall. Therefore, her boldness returned. Jimmy laughed as before, and she -joined him once more. - -"All right?" he requested. - -"Yes!" - -He got up. She watched him dress. He was slow and careless in the -performance. But her attention was absorbed by the muscular play of his -splendid body. - -"Well?" he asked smiling. - -"Well what?" she challenged. - -"What makes you stare?" - -"Nothin'!" - -"Am I nothin'?" - -"Yes!" - -He laughed with his usual readiness, and content, turned his back on her -with lazy ease and walked over to the mirror. Erna frowned slightly. -Somehow, his "I" had put her on her old guard. It seemed to spell -property, as did his care-free satisfaction with himself. Erna watched -him with glances sharpened by caution. - -But it was necessary to dress. She was beginning to feel chilly. Without -getting up, she slipped on her waist, that had been lying nearby on the -floor. - -Jimmy Allen's mood had reached a state of hopeless disregard. He -committed a decided blunder. With cheerful candor, he asked, without -troubling himself to turn around: "Erna! When do we move in?" - -She gave his back an indignant glance. "What did you say?" - -"I said: when do we move in?" - -Her instinct was up in arms. Throwing coolness into her reply, she -returned deliberately: "Not until doomsday." - -He stopped fixing his tie. But he continued: "You're gettin' crazy -again." - -"I'm not," she replied without changing her tone. "I said: not until -doomsday." - -He turned toward her, smiling. But the smile left his face. "What's the -matter now?" he asked, coming forward. - -"Go on dressin'!" she commanded, his smile having started her petulance. - -He, however, had come over to the couch and now stood over her, staring -at her stupidly. She looked up at him, animosity in her glance. His -vapid expression deepened. - -"Well?" she challenged. - -"Sore?" he asked humbly. - -"No!" - -He tried to study her. Gradually, light penetrated his cloudy -understanding: Erna was just like other women. Luckily, some stroke of -intuition prompted him not to turn away this time. Instead, he put his -hands on her shoulders and said with unaccustomed seriousness: "Erna! -Don't be sore." - -"I'm not sore," she resented. - -"I know--but--" - -"You don't have to explain," she cried melodramatically. Strange to say, -Erna seemed ready to cry. - -At a loss, Jimmy tried philosophy: "'Cause life is Hell to some folks, -Erna, we don't have to imitate 'em, do we?" He could not tell whether -she was listening. "Gimme a chance!" he added more cheerfully. "Quit the -beanery an' gimme a chance! I don't want life to be Hell for you. Gimme -the chance, won't you?" He waited, but she did not look up. "You -listenin'?" - -"Yes," she said. - -"Then quit the beanery, Erna! We can live nice an' cosy an' happy here, -can't we? You like it here?" - -"Yes," she admitted. - -"Let's get the minister then!" he concluded quietly. - -She removed his hands from her shoulders. - -"Erna!" he repeated. - -"Wait a moment," she cut him short, although in a milder tone. - -"Stick to your freedom!" he had advised her. He was so human that he -understood everything. And yet, Jimmy--if she were not forced to decide -so soon! - -Her strength came back under the influence of this tonic. A little of -her innate cheerfulness revived as well. She looked up at Jimmy. His -puzzled expression disappeared, and he smiled in encouragement. She -smiled too. - -"Got somethin' to say," he read. "What is it?" - -"Marriage'd be Hell, Jimmy," she announced without emotion. - -"Why?" he demanded abruptly, but recollecting himself, stopped. Dimly, -he once more realized that Erna was a woman. And the man's psychology -assisted him: Nature and his long enduring exasperation had been -satisfied. Why worry his head trying to understand Erna? Let her take -care of herself. She would outgrow her present mood. He grew blasé, and -repeated quietly: "Why?" - -"I dunno," she explained doubtfully. "Just because, I suppose." - -He sat down beside her, not so much to help her wrestle with the problem -as to encourage her to speak. She was thoughtful. "I guess I don't want -to," she continued, but with increasing doubt. - -"You don't want to marry? Why?" - -"I wouldn't be free," she declared in an uncertain way. - -"Why not?" he demanded. "You'd be free? You could do what you want. I -wouldn't stop you?" - -She shook her head. - -An idea came to him. "Maybe you'd rather--" but he stopped, remembering -a former experience. - -"Go ahead," she advised him. - -"You'll get sore again," he protested. - -"No, I won't," she disagreed, but anticipated him with: "I know what you -were goin' to say." - -"You do? Well?" - -Erna averted her glance. The old thoughts passed in quick review: -Landsmann's--Mr. Nielsen's advice--scraps of the past--home. She could -live with him a little while and then marry him if all went well. That -seemed best for her. - -"Wait'll to-morrow!" he interrupted her. "You're kind o' up in the air -now. You'll be surer to-morrow." - -She nodded absent-mindedly. - -"You'll let me know to-morrow?" - -"Yes." - -"Sure?" - -"Yes." - -"All right! Forget it! We'll get it all settled to-morrow. An' if you'd -still want to have the minister--" - -She shook her head negatively. Jimmy appeared just as well satisfied. He -did not understand, but what was the difference, and what the use of -worrying? "You love me, don'tcher?" - -Again, she nodded absent-mindedly. He pushed her with rough good nature. -Presently, he got up, returned to the mirror and again busied himself -with his tie. Erna likewise continued dressing. She had reached a -decision. And she was cheerful once more. But she would wait until -to-morrow. It might be better. - - - - - X - - -Mollie and Gretchen, the Landsmann waitresses, were gossipping. It was -about eight o'clock, the next morning. Above the rattle of dishes in the -kitchen, this is what one might have overheard: - -"Yes, I saw her with him." - -"So did I a few nights ago." - -"They must go out every night." - -"Of course! She's out every night since he's back. Who else would she go -with?" - -"It's just like her." - -"Yes! I always said she'd go back to 'im." - -"It was _me_ said that." - -"Maybe you did, but I said it first. She's a fine girl to be workin' in -an honest place like this to be goin' out with a common prize-fighter." - -"Not to have any more self-respect!" - -"Yes! I always said she'd come to a bad end." - -"Looks that way!" - -Their gossipping might have continued indefinitely had not part of it -been heard by an eavesdropper. She came stealthily into the kitchen and -of a sudden, the waitresses received some resounding slaps. The pair -screamed. - -Erna called them one or two unquotable names and tried to continue her -attack. But she saw Landsmann coming into the kitchen and beat a retreat -into the dining room, although not without this parting shot: "So you're -the kind I've been givin' dresses to!" - -Herr Landsmann was a busy man. Both waitresses were trying to explain at -the same time. And Mollie was weeping violently. At length, he succeeded -in holding an excited consultation with the girls, and with him at their -head, they marched out into the store in ragged single file. The trio -hurriedly argued the case before Mrs. Landsmann, who was standing behind -the counter, guarding the cash register. Pretty soon, Mollie cried: -"Here he comes now!" - -Jimmy Allen entered. He greeted the Landsmanns and the waitresses and -then some of his friends, as he passed the store tables. "How about -Young Walcott?" called one. "Next Wednesday," Jimmy returned. "Trainin' -again?" "Yes, I start to-day." And the young hero penetrated the kitchen -and stepped down into the dining room. - -Erna was in a disordered state. Some of the customers were endeavoring -to pacify her, but she refused their offers. She spied Jimmy and -throwing down all caution, hurried over to him. He soon heard enough -details. - -The young man struck a melodramatic pose. "We'll clear out o' this -hole," he exclaimed. She put her hand on his arm, but he shook it off. -"Go up-stairs an' pack your things!" - -"But Jimmy--" - -"Never mind!" he interrupted. "You don't have to stay here. If you did, -it'd be different. Go up-stairs an' pack up!" - -She looked at him with momentary dread, but Jimmy waved his hand toward -the doorway. Two of the customers got up to interfere, but he gave them -threatening glances. Erna moved away and then stopped in uncertainty. -"Go ahead!" he ordered her. She tried to go, but Landsmann stood in the -doorway. His face was struggling between anger and dignity. - -"Erna!" he commanded. - -She stared at him. - -"Go right up-stairs and--" - -The storekeeper noticed Jimmy's threatening attitude and hesitated. "Go -on!" that individual encouraged him. "Got any more to say?" - -Evidently, the German had not. - -"Then get 'er money ready an' see there ain't a cent short, you lousy -Dutchman! I'll see she gets her deserts. Hurry up, you fat slob, or I'll -help you!" - -Herr Landsmann disappeared and so did Erna. Jimmy, master of the moment, -gave the dining room denizens a look of contemptuous pride and likewise -went out. - -Consternation prevailed. Each patron wanted to express an opinion, and -argument rose high. Only one of them held his peace: John Carstairs. He -sat aloof, a picture of gloom and stupor. - - * * * * * - -It was an early hour that evening. Carstairs was seated at the piano in -his small cosy room. The gas was turned fairly low. Except for -intermittent sounds from the instrument, the room was quiet. - -The young man was composing. Vague measures, desolate of all cheer, -followed one another in funeral tempo. The monotony, unbroken by even -one note of prophecying gladness, was maddening. But the young man -persisted in his lugubrious incantation. Presently, he got up, turned -the gas a little higher and sat down again. A sheet of music paper lay -in front of him. Only a few measures and the title--Dirge--had been -transcribed. He started jotting down more notes. - -There was a knock at the door. He did not hear it. The knock was -repeated. Carstairs struck a petulant dissonance, arose wearily, went -over to the door and opened it part way. - -"Special delivery!" a man announced. - -Carstairs signed the slip, the postman went away and the door was -closed. The young composer examined the handwriting and quickly tore -open the envelope. The note was very short. - -He gave way to eager joy. And he breathed a name twice over: "Elsie!" -Nervous animation betrayed him further. He re-read the note five or six -times, looked about in bewilderment and re-read the note again. Of a -sudden, he hurried over to the bureau and pulled open the bottom drawer. -A litter of odds and ends was laid bare. With anxious haste, he threw -them all about on the floor. At last, he came to a picture: the -photograph of a pretty girl. His joy deepened; he held the picture at -arm's length and gazed a fill of delight. He then arighted himself, went -over to the piano, moved the photograph of an older woman to one side -and placed this picture near the centre. He was soon occupied studying -the effect, and ultimate satisfaction was his. - -He again sat down at the piano, but was unable to take his glance from -the picture. Eventually, he smiled, gave the picture an _au revoir_ look -and again turned his attention to the keyboard and manuscript. He had -decided to finish his composition just the same. The dirge continued -intoning its gloomy measures, but a note of prophecying gladness -appeared. From time to time, too, the composer stole shy glances at the -photograph. - - * * * * * - -In a cosy room in a building not far away, a different scene was taking -place. Eric Nielsen and Erna Vitek were sitting close together on a -couch, chatting confidentially and bantering each other. - -Erna had not broken off her appointment with the young writer even -though a sudden change had come into her life. Luckily, Jimmy was away -all afternoon, training up in Fordham, and, thanks to his continued -absence, she was able to leave their flat shortly after six o'clock. She -would only stay out an hour or so and, should he return before her, -would tell him that she had to visit Landsmann's for some small articles -she had left behind. On the way to Nielsen's, she bought two or three -trifles. Fortunately, she had found him at home, although she was two -hours beforehand. - -He had heard of the morning's event and was heartily sorry. But Erna -quickly reassured him. Of course, he did not believe the hazy part of -her story,--that she was "stayin' with some friends"--but his philosophy -was equal to the occasion: what Erna hid from him was no concern of his. -In all, they had been spending a delightful evening. As a consequence, -Erna was staying much longer than she had planned. - -Nielsen enjoyed her company. She was a splendid stimulant to his -stimulant-craving mental system. After his recent intercourse with the -every-day woman and the every-day man,--a monotonous gallery of drab -souls--she was a touch of brilliant color. Her joy, animal spirit and -fighting instinct enthralled him. She stimulated his imagination -particularly and consequently brought him back to his old interest in -his life and work. So he was trebly indebted to her. - -Erna's greed had developed rapidly, and she had grown reckless in short -order. Nielsen inspired her complete confidence. He did not take her too -seriously, neither did he take her too lightly. This was just what she -had craved so long. As a result, at the height of her confidence and his -bantering comment, she allowed him to sit next to her, and they -developed their further intimacy. For the present, she had forgotten -Jimmy. He was physical and did not inspire her as Nielsen's human -temperament did so easily and so quietly. Moreover, her Vitek blood had -been excited. - -Therefore, it was inside a natural sequence of happenings that Nielsen's -arm stole about Erna's waist and that she submitted to the liberty. To -tell the truth, Nielsen was decidedly under the influence of the wine in -her nature and she under that in his. - -"Isn't this wicked?" he questioned pleasantly. - -"No," she denied. - -"But it's growing darker," he protested. - -"So much the better!" she retorted. - -And they both laughed. - -"This is rat time," he warned her. - -"I don't care," she vaunted. - -And they laughed again. - -Erna did not leave the Nielsen workshop until well after nine o'clock. - - - - - XI - - -It was the following Monday noon. Breen and Nielsen were seated at the -last table in Landsmann's rear dining room, eating and gossipping. -"Gretchen!" called the former. - -Erna's successor came forward. - -"Bring me a mocha tart, please." - -"Yes, sir"--and the girl walked away. - -"So you think you'll be able to finish your story?" Breen questioned. - -"I think so," was Nielsen's thoughtful response. "I've found the missing -link." - -"But is any story ever finished?" Breen protested. "Can't you always -find room for additional installments?" - -Not being in an argumentative mood, Nielsen quietly accepted his -friend's criticism. Soon, they were both meditative. Gretchen brought -the mocha tart and went away. Hers was a peace-loving temperament, in -distinct contrast to Erna's, an opinion Breen expressed. Nielsen again -accepted his criticism. - -"After all," the artist added comfortably: "Erna was quite a study. I -confess, she fooled me." - -"How so?" - -"By running off with that young gladiator." - -"Then you think she's living with him?" - -"Of course. What other conclusion should I come to?" - -Nielsen did not answer. At length he said: "Then you're ready to alter -your decision of the other day?" - -"That she's a moral little thing?" Breen replied. - -"Yes, to some extent," he declared generously. "Her last act does change -my first consideration a bit. But I still refuse to credit her with -being _un_moral." - -"Which means that you believe her _im_moral?" Nielsen ventured in a -droll tone. - -"I suppose so." - -"Explain yourself!" - -"She's accepted a life contrary to Society's code or her own code--if -she was ever unconventional enough to have one, which I doubt." - -Nielsen smiled. "If what you say is true, we're all of us more or less -immoral." - -"Why so?" - -"Because every one barters his soul some time during his existence, and -some of us are doing so all the time. At heart, you know, we're most of -us, unmoral, in appearance, moral, but in action, immoral." - -Breen laughed in amiable derision. "What scrambled egg philosophy!" he -cried. "Where did you learn it, noble scholar?" - -"Nowhere," Nielsen answered and frowned. But his ready good nature -intervened and he observed gently: "At any rate, Breen, I disagree with -you regarding Erna." - -"That she's neither moral nor immoral?" - -"She has a little bit of each--like all of us," the young author agreed; -"but fundamentally she's unmoral." - -"Bravo! So that will be the end of your story?" - -"I don't know," Nielsen silenced him and smiled a second time. - -Breen shook his head with a knowing air. After an interval, he -requested: "Will you see her again?" - -"I'm not certain," Nielsen said without emotion. "I imagine I will some -time. But it won't be necessary." - -The young men finished their meal. - -A little later, Nielsen was alone in his studio. He was sitting at his -small writing desk, looking over some material that lay in front of him. -Presently, he seemed worried, but only for a moment. No, the point was -absolutely clear. Erna had settled it for him the other evening. At -heart, she was unmoral. The young author commenced writing. - -Through some insidious channel, a thought managed to come between his -mind and the manuscript: would he see her again? Quickly, he beat it -down: it would be unnecessary to see her again; there was nothing more -for him to learn. Still, he had enjoyed himself the other evening. The -physical, so glorious, so great, had once more penetrated his life. -Would he drive it away? Nielsen stopped writing. - -Almost resentfully, he mused: What had he and the physical to do with -each other? The physical gave him new experience, yes, but it was almost -always experience that he courted and utilized for his work. He must not -expect more; he must continue to sacrifice everything--thought, emotion, -volition--to work. Nothing else existed; in no other way could he hope -to reach the realm of artist. He must drive Erna and the other evening's -sensations from his memory. She had served as his model, no more; so he -must not permit her personality or his own to interfere again. -Furthermore, he must be cautious on her behalf as well. She was a -joyous, healthy animal. Jimmy Allen was a joyous, healthy animal. They -were mated, and were living together, undoubtedly. The chapter was -closed. He must not desire more. - -Nielsen tightened his resolve. In another moment, he was again busy, -writing. - -There was a knock at the door. He did not hear it. The knock was -repeated more loudly. He looked around petulantly, got up, went over to -the door and opened it. "Oh, it's you," he said, but not with -cordiality. - -Erna came in. - -"I was down in the neighborhood," she apologized. - -"You were right to come up," he reassured her, sorry to have treated her -discourteously. "Take off your things!" - -"But you're busy," she protested. - -"Not at all. Only a little touch or two I was working on. They can -wait." - -Reluctantly, Erna permitted him to help her remove her coat. She did not -take off her hat. "Sit down," he advised her, his regret for his -momentary show of self-interest developing. - -She sat down on a chair. He seated himself at his desk, but faced her. -"What's new?" he asked pleasantly. - -"Nothin' much," she returned and glanced at him. - -His glance met hers, and he quickly looked elsewhere. He felt a sharp -pain: he had gone too far the other evening. Erna likewise looked away. -She had seen enough; her instinct knew. There was an awkward pause. - -Nielsen gave her a sidelong glance. What could he do? This was dreadful. -He should not have gone so far. Erna was staring at the floor. He could -see her pugnacious nose and her determined mouth and chin, and felt -somewhat relieved. Her case might not be as serious as he feared. She -had tenacious strength of character. But the situation was very -uncomfortable notwithstanding. He should not have gone so far. It was -selfish--whether a man's selfishness or an artist's. Nielsen turned -away. - -Again, he glanced in her direction, but she was still staring at the -floor. Luckily, she had Jimmy; they were living together--at least, he -had taken that much for granted by putting her story and the bakery -scandal side by side. They were suited to each other. What could or -should she have to do with such a thing as an artist? Perhaps, the -novelty in their short affair had appealed to her. She was a greedy -nature. She craved everything: sun, moon, stars and all. He himself had -only been one of them. This conjecture satisfied him considerably. And -he breathed with returning freedom. - -She looked up. He smiled. She smiled too. And he breathed still more -freely. - -"What have you been doing lately?" he questioned cheerfully. - -"I've been busy straightenin' out," she replied, and looked at him. - -He moved restlessly. There was a second pause, but only a short one. - -"You've been busy too," she said. - -"Oh yes, I--I've been working on a story." - -"What kind of a story?" - -"Merely a foolish little affair about a foolish little affair," he -hastened to condemn. - -Her glance dropped. His work and her own lived apart. "I brought back -'Little Eyolf'." - -"So I saw. Did you like it?" - -"Not very much." - -"Why not?" - -"It's too sad," she explained. "An' I don't like cripples." - -"Of course!" he broke out. "I forgot that you love only joy and happy -people." - -"An' freedom," she concluded unconsciously. - -"Certainly, and freedom," he agreed. - -He caught a glimpse of her eyes--eyes that could love you to-day and -hate you to-morrow--and felt still more reconciled with circumstances. -Erna craved freedom, and was free. She could take care of herself. She -possessed that rare thing, the life-controlling temperament. Perhaps, -she would not need even Jimmy Allen. How splendid she was! Would she -hate him to-morrow? It would be a shame. He had only to raise his -hand--and they could continue. But he must not, it would be so much -better for her. She would be miserable with him: an artist and not a -physical man. She belonged to Jimmy--and still more, to herself. He must -not interfere, but leave her destiny to destiny. Nielsen felt almost -completely relieved. - -"You _love_ your work, don't you?" Erna announced with unexpected -candor. - -Nielsen looked at her with sharpened eyes. She was glorious. She had -emphasized "love" and not "work." He could scarcely reply. - -"Don't you?" she repeated. - -She was more than glorious. Her own gameness had fought the problem for -her. She required assistance from no one. - -"Yes," was all he was able to say, his emotions crowding him. - -"Do you write a whole lot?" - -"Yes, lots and lots, but it's all trivial." - -"Oh no!" she contradicted him. - -"Oh yes!" he mimicked her, and laughed, although he did not know why. -"My writings are as much like life--" as you are like art, he would have -finished, but hesitated. - -"As what?" she assisted him. - -"As the catching of butterflies is like the catching of rats," he closed -with a return to himself. - -"Oh, the Rat-wife!" she interpreted. - -"Yes." - -"You're not a rat-wife writer then?" - -"No." - -"You're not a butterfly writer either?" - -"Why not?" - -"'Cause butterflies come from caterpillars, don't they?" - -"Yes," Nielsen admitted and laughed again, although his emotions were -threatening him, as before. "I forgot about the caterpillars." - -"Yes, I hate 'em," she reminded him. "They're too--too--" - -"Fuzzy wuzzy!" he helped her. - -"Yes," she accepted and laughed for the first time, if not very -heartily. - -Nielsen studied her with frank admiration. Her nature was that of a -lioness. She looked capable of pushing over or slipping from under any -circumstance. She did not even require one's sympathy. And still?--But -he resisted the temptation. For her sake, it would be better not to -continue. - -"I must be goin'," she said suddenly. - -"Oh no, not yet!" he begged. - -"Yes, I must be goin'," she insisted and got up. "I got shoppin' to do." - -"Haven't you finished decorating?" he inquired, and got up against his -will. - -"No," she returned and smiled. - -Nielsen helped her with her coat. He was tempted to put his arms about -her, but resisted. It would make her departure more difficult. She -turned around. "Is my hat on straight?" - -"Oh yes," he assured her and added, by way of controlling himself: -"_Vanitas vanitatum!_" - -"What's that?" - -"More triviality!" he declared. - -Erna started toward the door, but he stopped her with: "Don't you want -another book to read?" - -The temptation was a strong one, but she dodged it: "No, I'll be too -busy now. Maybe, later on," she concluded with a lingering tone. - -Nielsen looked away. Erna continued toward the door, but he hurried -after her and opened and held it open for her. - -"Good-bye," she said. - -"Oh no, not good-bye, but _au revoir_!" he quoted gently. - -"That's a hard word to pronounce." - -"Try it anyhow," he encouraged her. - -"Orrevore!" - -"Fine!" he congratulated her, repeated the phrase, and added: "Come in -again soon." - -"Yes," she agreed. - -But she never did. - - - - - XII - - -Two months passed. - -Erna Vitek was still living with Jimmy Allen. There was, however, less -and less likelihood that they would ever marry. In fact, the most -probable issue to their affair was that they would separate again, in -the near future and this time for good. - -Erna was tired of Jimmy. For some weeks past, her restless nature had -been craving some one else, or better still, some other mode of living, -her present one having reached a state of unbearable monotony. She -recovered from her experience with Eric Nielsen only after several weeks -of struggle. Even such a fine tonic as that supplied her so freely by -her resource of blood found the healing of her wound no ordinary matter, -but she had recovered, except for an occasional memory. Her battle with -her craving for Nielsen did not assist her attachment for Jimmy; on the -contrary, the latter degenerated by contrast. And Jimmy, himself, was -very much to blame as well. He had changed toward her. - -It is no doubt true that possession often breeds boredom, and boredom, -carelessness. Erna, before possession and after possession, was not the -same individual, and Jimmy treated her accordingly. He was no longer an -anxious desire-maddened suitor. - -Furthermore, he was softening physically. He continued training for his -schedule of fistic contests and carried out that schedule; he defeated -Young Walcott, the man from Chicago and another, but lately, had fought -two very poor draws, in the latter of which he, himself, was on the -point of being knocked out. His manager, the astute Jerry Nolan, was -losing patience with him. He bluntly attributed his protégé's decline to -the fact that he was "livin' with a woman. A man's got to cut out drink -if he wants to succeed as a athlete, but he's got to be _sure_ to cut -out women. They sucks his blood an' strength." - -Jimmy did not agree with this sentiment. He continued to live with Erna. -What is more, he had threatened to move out of the Nolan apartment and -"to throw up the sponge"--quit the prize-ring--if his manager persisted -in arguing along these lines. Although Nolan submitted, he found other -grounds upon which to pick quarrels with Jimmy. The truth is, the young -manager was ambitious, and Jimmy's ability to climb the pugilistic -ladder reflected credit upon him. He had always felt and expressed his -faith in his protégé and prophesied that he would be "mixin' it with the -top notchers" not far hence, a prophecy Jimmy substantiated by defeating -"the Kid," Young Walcott and the westerner so decisively. But he was in -danger now, as his recent battles and his late mutiny testified. Should -Jimmy fall from grace a second time, it would be irrevocably. Therefore, -Nolan was using eloquence, persuasion, threats, anything, to save him. - -Many of their quarrels took place in Erna's presence. After a while, -Jimmy, much to her growing distaste, formed the habit of bringing Nolan -and "some o' the boys" to the flat. Custom gradually trained them to -believe that she was nothing more than part of the furniture, and they -accepted her attentions, due them as Jimmy's guests, just so. They -stayed well on into the night, amused themselves, played pranks, broke -dishes, quarrelled, made up--and came again. And more and more, they -looked upon Erna with contempt. On her side, she hated and despised -them. - -During the day, Jimmy was usually absent, training at the Nolan -headquarters in Fordham. Erna saw him for a moment in the morning, when -she prepared his breakfast, and at evening, when she prepared his -supper, not to see him again, as a rule, until fairly late at night, -except when he brought "the boys." To be sure, she slept with him -and--well, she hated that too. It made her feel herself some dirty, -inferior animal. - -Erna's days were still more monotonous. She sewed quite a little, -attended to details of house work, which were few, and otherwise, took -long walks or went to an afternoon vaudeville or moving picture show. As -she was accustomed to a day of constant labor and occupation, she had -never known much idleness; her evenings were spent in resting or in the -search of a little excitement. Moreover, Erna's was purely an emotional -nature; she did not possess the intellect or imagination so requisite -toward making idleness useful. Unfortunately, she had no friends to -visit. - -At first, Jimmy gave her money in regular installments. Their house -expenses paid, she would have a sufficient balance with which to indulge -herself--with a new hat, a new dress, a few odds and ends, or her -afternoon amusements. The installments, however, were more and more -irregular and smaller in amount; last week, none had materialized. The -reason was this: Jimmy had returned to drinking. And the climax was -impending. One night, he came home late, pretty well drunk. - -Erna opened the door. He swayed and then staggered into the room, a -broad leer on his face. "Howsh--the--girl?" he demanded stupidly. - -He tried to embrace her, but Erna stepped back, and he nearly fell. With -an effort, he straightened himself and laughed. "Wha--whash--a--matter?" - -Erna's resentment poured over. "You beast!" she said in low tones. - -"You--what?" He leaned forward to hear better. - -"Beast, I said," and she pelted him with epithets and reproaches. - -Jimmy made several ludicrous attempts to apologize, and protested: -"I--I'm not--d-drunk; I--I'm just--ossified." And he laughed more -stupidly and tried to approach. - -"Keep away!" - -"Wha--whash--a--matter?" - -"Keep away!" - -"Wheresh--No--Nolan?" - -"Nolan's in hell, where he belongs," she cried angrily, and a second -tirade followed, directed this time at the manager and Jimmy's friends. - -"Be c-c-careful!" he interrupted, but she added further condemnation. -"Be c-c-careful!" he repeated. "No--Nolan's a frien' o' mine an' so's -P-p-piggy Wallace. Be c-c-careful!" - -His defence only succeeded in infuriating her. She concluded with two or -three judgments that included the families of those gentlemen. Jimmy's -good nature stopped. "You ----!" he called her and stumbled toward her. - -Erna retreated, her face aflame. Once more, he called her ---- and fell -toward her. She tried to ward him off, for he had driven her against the -couch. But Jimmy pushed himself forward and raising his fist, brought it -down clumsily upon her face. Erna slipped and fell upon the couch, her -mouth bleeding. - -Furious, she jumped up and attacked Jimmy. He was in a defenceless -condition, and blows rained upon his shoulders, body and head. He tried -to raise his guard, but it was useless. At length, swearing -incoherently, she struck him full in the face, and he swayed, mumbled -stupidly and toppled over on the couch, unconscious or asleep--more -likely the latter. Handsome Jimmy was a disgusting sight. - -Erna, still struggling with herself, looked down at him. He started -snoring, a part painful, part beatific smile wrinkling his face. His -legs were dangling over the side of the couch. She gave them a kick, -lifted them and shoved them onto the couch. She then turned away and -wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Erna had come to a simple -determination. - -Without hesitation, she went over to a closet and opened the door. She -likewise pulled open the drawer of a commode. And somewhere, she found -an old suit case and dragged that forth. Her packing did not last more -than twenty minutes. She left a hat, a dress and some odds and ends -behind her. - - * * * * * - -One pleasant late afternoon about two weeks later, Eric Nielsen was -occupied in writing at his desk. He was engaged on an essay he had -planned and started some time ago. His pencil was moving more rapidly -than usual. - -The door was opened gently and Bainbridge Breen came in. "Busy?" he -inquired. - -"Come in! I'll be through in a second," Nielsen returned without looking -up. - -The painter came forward. The author's pencil scribbled a little faster, -a period was jotted down, and he laid aside the pencil, at the same time -eyeing his work and sighing with satisfaction. - -"Finished?" - -"Oh no, not for some time. I've got several thousand words more," -Nielsen explained. - -"How's it coming on?" - -"Splendidly!" was the optimistic rejoinder. "If I can keep sufficient -enthusiasm in my body, I ought to be able to carry it through -perfectly." - -"It'll be your _chef-d'oeuvre_, I suppose," Breen observed with his -customary pleasantry. - -"I hope so," Nielsen admitted seriously. "It's stronger than anything -I've done, I feel. It shows maturity, I think, not only maturity of -judgment, but maturity of execution as well." - -"In other words, Art," Breen interrupted slyly. "What more do you ask?" - -"Nothing," confessed Nielsen, and his warm smile appeared. - -"But what's the matter with the story?" the painter demanded. - -"How do you mean?" the author retorted. - -"I thought _that_ had fulfilled your ambition." - -"Not quite, not quite," Nielsen hastened to deny, and was thoughtful. "I -don't know just what it was, but there was something missing in it," he -said gently, and changing the subject, concluded abruptly: "I'm sure I -have that something in this essay." - -Breen explained himself: "You know what made me ask about the story?" - -"No. What?" - -"I had lunch in a small bakery on Sixth Avenue this noon." - -"Well?" - -"Guess whom I saw there?" - -"Well?" - -"Can't you guess?" - -"Out with it!" - -"Our old friend: Erna Vitek!" - -Nielsen turned and stared at his friend. He was unable to speak. - -"What do you think o' that?" Breen pursued, unruffled. - -"She must have left Allen." - -"Yes!" - -"And is working again?" - -"Yes!" - -Nielsen stared at the floor now. He seemed unable to formulate, much -less express, an opinion. "How is she? Changed?" he requested at last. - -"Somewhat! She's quite a little harder and a bit more quiet--that is the -way matters appeared to me. But her eyes have lost none of their -boldness. And besides, she seems to like it there." - -"She does?" - -"Yes, and she's very popular too." - -"How so?" - -"The men are very attentive, it looked to me," Breen volunteered -significantly. - -"And she?" - -"She's still got an eye open. Not as wide open, perhaps, as in the old -days, but it isn't closed, that's certain." - -Nielsen was silent, reflecting. - -At length, Breen asked: "What do you imagine will become of her?" - -"How?" - -"I mean, of her life--what life do you suppose she'll lead eventually: -this young lady so moral, unmoral or--" - -"I can't say exactly," Nielsen, who disliked the topic, interrupted. - -"Think she'll take to the streets?" - -"No, no, not that!" was the vehement denial. - -"Why not?" - -Again, Nielsen seemed unable to answer, but he boasted unexpectedly: -"She's too strong. She has fight in her--and love of freedom." - -"But so have street ladies." - -"Yes, but they don't carry it through." - -"Why not?" - -"I don't know," was the stubborn reply. "They don't, that's all." - -"Well, do you? Does Tom, Dick or Harry? Does Erna?" - -"I don't know. Let's drop the subject." - -"_I_ wouldn't be so certain that she does," Breen insinuated, still -persisting. - -"Of course, _you_ wouldn't," Nielsen condemned, unable longer to hold -back his emotion. "You're wisdom itself." - -The young artist decided to shift the topic: "Heard from Carstairs -lately?" - -Animation returned to Nielsen. "Yes, I heard from John last night." - -"Is he still in Indianapolis?" - -"Yes, he has a fine position there and seems contented now." - -"And Elsie Pearson?" - -"Oh, that'll come off, as you said the other day." - -"Marriage?" - -"Yes!" - -"Good for John! I'm glad he won. He was a long time waiting." - -Nelsen nodded. He was thoughtful once more. But he shook off the mood -and asked: "What are you doing, Breen?" - -"Getting ready for spring." - -"That's so--spring'll be here in a week or two. Going out to the country -as usual?" - -"Yes, I've gathered a bunch of canvases and plenty of tubes, etcetera, -and off I'll go." - -"Going to Connecticut again?" - -"Yes, that's the only country for a landscape painter." - -"I suppose so," Nielsen agreed. - -"How about supper?" Breen interposed. - -"Why, what time is it?" - -"After five o'clock." - -"By Jove--that late? I must be getting dressed soon." - -"Got an engagement?" - -"Yes, I'm going to feed with the Plymptons." - -"Too bad! That means, I'll have to eat alone. See you in the morning! So -long!" and Breen moved away. - -"Going over to Landsmann's?" - -"Yes. But it's hopelessly dull there these days. It'll give me the -incurables to-night." - -"Or a tummy-ache, at least," Nielsen added good-humoredly. - -"Yes, so long!" - -"So long!" - -Breen went out quietly and closed the door. Nielsen studied the door -with a blank expression. But he shook himself and returned to his -manuscript. In a moment, he was absorbed, re-reading. - - - POETRY - - A MAGAZINE OF VERSE - - Edited by Harriet Monroe, 543 Cass St., Chicago, Ill. - - POETRY, at the end of its first year, is no longer an experiment - but an assured artistic success, a publication whose importance - is authoritatively recognized, not only in this country, but in - Great Britain and France as well. The field it has opened up is - full of brilliant possibilities, encouraging the editors to hope - for the enthusiastic support of a discriminating public. - - POETRY endeavors to present the best verse now being written in - English, quality alone being the test of acceptance. - - POETRY is an effort to create an organ for the art. While the - ordinary magazines must minister to a large public little - interested in poetry, this magazine appeals to and will develop a - public primarily interested in poetry as an art, potentially the - highest, most complete human expression of truth and beauty. 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Abbott, Richard Le Gallienne, Associate Editors. - - 15 CENTS A COPY. $1.50 A YEAR. - - MOODS PUBLISHING COMPANY - 29 WEST 42ND STREET - - NEW YORK CITY - - - The April issue of THE - GLEBE will present - Collects and prose-pieces - by Horace Traubel. - - Subscription price per year, $3.00 - - - - - Transcriber's Notes - - -The original spelling was mostly preserved. A few obvious typographical -errors were silently corrected. All other changes are listed here -(before/after): - - [p. 104]: - ... her desserts. Hurry up, you fat slob, or I'll help ... - ... her deserts. Hurry up, you fat slob, or I'll help ... - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Glebe 1914/03 (Vol. 1, No. 6): -Erna Vitek, by Alfred Kreymborg - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GLEBE 1914/03 (VOL. 1 *** - -***** This file should be named 63125-8.txt or 63125-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/1/2/63125/ - -Produced by Jens Sadowski and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. This book was -produced from images made available by the Blue Mountain -Project, Princeton University. - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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