Theodore Dreiser - The Stoic

In fact, to Cowperwood’s surprise and gratification, Lorna was quite as much talked of as himself. Orchestras everywhere were playing her songs; in the popular vaudeville houses there were imitations of her. Merely to be seen with her was to inspire comment, and therein lay his greatest problem, for the very papers which regularly presented Lorna’s fame also presented his own. And this evoked in him the greatest caution, as well as a very real mental distress regarding Berenice. She might read or hear or be whispered to by someone if they were seen publicly together. At the same time, he and Lorna were infatuated and wished to be together as much as possible. In the case of Aileen, at least, he decided on a frank confession to her that in Baltimore he had met the granddaughter of his brother, a very gifted girl, who was in a theatrical production playing in New York. Would Aileen care to invite her to the house?

Having already read notices of Lorna and seen pictures of her in the papers, Aileen was, of course, curious, and for that reason willing to extend the invitation. At the same time, the beauty, poise, and self-assurance of the girl, as well as the mere fact that she had met and introduced herself to Cowperwood, were sufficient to embitter Aileen against her and to renew her old suspicion as to Cowperwood’s real motives. Youth—the irrecoverable. Beauty—that wraith of perfection that came and went as a shadow. Yet were both fire and storm. It gave Aileen no real satisfaction to escort Lorna through the galleries and gardens of the Cowperwood palace. For, as she could see, with what Lorna had she did not need those things, and because of what Aileen lacked, they were of no avail to her. Life went with beauty and desire; where they were not was nothing . . . And Cowperwood desired beauty and achieved it for himself—life, color, fame, romance. Whereas, she . . .

Now enmeshed in the necessity of pretending engagements and business which did not exist, in order to make secure his newest paradise, Cowperwood decided that it would be better if Tollifer were present, and arranged to have him recalled by the Central Trust Company. He might keep Aileen from thinking about Lorna.

So Tollifer, gayly afloat off the North Cape with Marigold and a party of her friends, and greatly disappointed by his recall, was obliged to state that financial affairs required his immediate return to New York. And soon after his return, and doing his best to amuse himself as well as Aileen, he heard rumours of Lorna and Cowperwood, and was, of course, interested. Yet, although envying Cowperwood his luck, he was careful at every point to belittle and deny all gossip that he heard, and in particular to shield him from any suspicion on the part of Aileen.

Unfortunately, he arrived too late to forestall an inevitable article in Town Topics , which presently fell into Aileen’s hands. It produced on her the usual effect, the old bitter contemplation of her husband’s besetting vice. No matter how great his standing before the world, how marvelous his power of achievement, he must allow these petty vagrants, infinitely beneath him, to tarnish and becloud what would otherwise have been a tremendous and untarnished public position.

There was one consolation. If she were once again to be humiliated in this way, there was Berenice Fleming to be humiliated also. For Aileen had long been consciously irritated by the unseen presence of Berenice ever in the background. And observing Berenice’s New York house to be closed, she assumed that Cowperwood must be neglecting her also. For most certainly he was showing no desire to leave the city.

One of the excuses which he gave for remaining in New York related to the nomination and possible election of William Jennings Bryan, a political firebrand, who, with economic and social theories somewhat at variance with the current capitalistic views of how money should be managed and divided, was seeking to bridge the then unbridgeable gulf between the rich and the poor. And, in consequence, in the United States there was at that time a genuine commercial fear, bordering almost on panic, lest this man actually win the presidency. This permitted Cowperwood to say to Aileen that it would be dangerous for him to leave the country at this time, since on Bryan’s stabilizing defeat depended his own financial success. And he wrote Berenice to the same effect. That ultimately she was not permitted to believe him was due to the fact that Aileen had mailed a copy of Town Topics to her New York address, and in due time, it arrived at Pryor’s Cove.

Among all the men Berenice had met thus far, Cowperwood alone, with his strength and achievements, supplied the most glamor. But, apart from men, even Cowperwood and the elements of satisfaction and fulfilment which he offered, there was the color of life itself at Pryor’s Cove. Here, for the first time in her life, her social problems, if not settled, were at least temporarily disposed of and she was free to indulge her extreme egoism and yield to her narcissistic impulse to pose and play.

Life at Pryor’s Cove was a pleasurably solitary and idle process. In the morning, after hours in her bath and before her mirror, she loved to pick and choose costumes suitable to her mood: this hat did this, this ribbon did that, these earrings, this belt, these slippers; so it went. Sometimes, chin in hand, her elbows resting on the gold-stained marble of her dressing-table, she would gaze into the mirror studying her hair, her lips, her eyes, her breasts, her arms. And it was with the greatest care that she selected the silver, the china, the linen, the flowers, for the table, always with a view to the resulting effect. And although usually only her mother; Mrs. Evans, the housekeeper; and Rose, the maid, were there to see, it was herself who was the chief spectator. And, in the lovely walled garden off her bedroom, when the moon was up, she strolled and dreamed, thinking of Cowperwood, and frequently wishing for him intensely. Yet with the compensating thought that a brief absence would bring an exquisitely satisfying reunion.

Mrs. Carter frequently marveled at her daughter’s self-absorption, wondering why she so often sought to be alone when there was a social world steadily unfolding before her. Yet in due course, into the midst of this, came Lord Stane. It was some three weeks after Cowperwood’s departure, and he was motoring from Tregasal to London, dropping in ostensibly to look after his horses and bid his new tenants welcome. He was especially curious because he had been informed that the girl was the ward of Frank Cowperwood.

After all that had passed between herself and Cowperwood concerning this man, Berenice was at once interested and not a little amused, remembering the hairpins and brushes and the unknown Miss Hathaway. Nevertheless, she appeared smiling and confident as she greeted him. The effect of her white dress, blue slippers, blue ribbon around her waist and blue velvet band encircling her foaming red hair, was not lost on Stane. As he bowed over her slim hand, he said to himself that here was one to whom every moment of life was an occasion, and certainly a fitting ward for the ambitious and powerful Cowperwood. His eyes concealed inquiry but not admiration.

“I hope you will pardon the intrusion of your landlord,” he began. “I have several horses here that I am about to send to France, and I find it necessary to look them over.”

“Ever since we have been living here,” said Berenice, “Mother and I have been hoping to meet the owner of this adorable place. It is too lovely for words. And my guardian, Mr. Cowperwood, has spoken of you.”

“Decidedly, I am obligated to him for that,” said Stane, fascinated by her poise. “As for Pryor’s Cove, that I can’t claim credit for. It’s really an heirloom, one of the family treasures.”