The explanation which Lester had concluded to be inevitable, whether it led to separation or legalisation of their hitherto banal condition, followed quickly upon the appearance of Mr. O’Brien. On the day Mr. O’Brien called he had gone on a journey to Hegewisch, a small manufacturing town in Wisconsin, where he had been invited to witness the trial of a new motor intended to operate elevators — with a view to possible investment. When he came out to the house, interested to tell Jennie something about it even in spite of the fact that he was thinking of leaving her, he felt a sense of depression everywhere, for Jennie, in spite of the serious and sensible conclusion she had reached, was not one who could conceal her feelings easily. She was brooding sadly over her proposed action, realising that it was best to leave but finding it hard to summon the courage which would let her talk to him about it. She could not go without telling him what she thought. He ought to want to leave her. She was absolutely convinced that this one course of action — separation — was necessary and advisable. She could not think of him as daring to make a sacrifice of such proportions for her sake even if he wanted to. It was impossible. It was astonishing to her that he had let things go along as dangerously and silently as he had. When he came in Jennie did her best to greet him with her accustomed smile, but it was a pretty poor imitation.
“Everything all right?” she asked, using her customary phrase of inquiry.
“Quite,” he answered. “How are things with you?”
“Oh, just the same.” She walked with him to the library, and he poked at the open fire with a long-handled poker before turning around to survey the room generally. It was five o’clock of a January afternoon. Jennie had gone to one of the windows to lower the shade. As she came back he looked at her critically. “You’re not quite your usual self, are you?” he asked, sensing something out of the common in her attitude.
“Why, yes, I feel all right,” she replied, but there was a peculiar uneven motion to the movement of her lips — a rippling tremor which was unmistakable to him.
“I think I know better than that,” he said, still gazing at her steadily. “What’s the trouble? Anything happened?”
She turned away from him a moment to get her breath and collect her senses. Then she faced him again. “There is something,” she managed to say. “I have to tell you something.”
“I know you have,” he agreed, half smiling, but with a feeling that there was much of grave import back of this. “What is it?”
She was silent for a moment, biting her lips. She did not quite know how to begin. Finally she broke the spell with: “There was a man here yesterday — a Mr. O’Brien, of Cincinnati. Do you know him?”
“Yes, I know him. What did he want?”
“He came to talk to me about you and your father’s will.”
She paused, for his face clouded immediately. “Why the devil should he be talking to you about my father’s will!” he exclaimed. “What did he have to say?”
“Please don’t get angry, Lester,” said Jennie calmly, for she realised that she must remain absolute mistress of herself if anything were to be accomplished toward the resolution of her problem. “He wanted to tell me what a sacrifice you are making,” she went on. “He wished to show me that there was only a little time left before you would lose your inheritance. Don’t you want to act pretty soon? Don’t you want to leave me?”
“Damn him!” said Lester fiercely. “What the devil does he mean by putting his nose in my private affairs? Can’t they let me alone?” He shook himself angrily. “Damn them!” he exclaimed again. “This is some of Robert’s work. Why should Knight, Keatley & O’Brien be meddling in my affairs? This whole business is getting to be a nuisance!” He was in a boiling rage in a moment, as was shown by his darkening skin and sulphurous eyes.
Jennie trembled before his anger. She did not know what to say.
He came to himself sufficiently after a time to add:
“Well. Just what did he tell you?”
“He said that if you married me you would only get ten thousand a year. That if you didn’t and still lived with me you would get nothing at all. If you would leave me, or I would leave you, you would get all of a million and a half. Don’t you think you had better leave me now?”
She had not intended to propound this leading question so quickly, but it came out as a natural climax to the situation. She realised instantly that if he were really in love with her he would answer with an emphatic “no.” If he didn’t care, he would hesitate, he would delay, he would seek to put off the evil day of reckoning.
“I don’t see that,” he retorted irritably. “I don’t see that there’s any need for either interference or hasty action. What I object to is their coming here and mixing in my private affairs.”
Jennie was cut to the quick by his indifference, his wrath instead of affection. To her the main point at issue was her leaving him or his leaving her. To him this recent interference was obviously the chief matter for discussion and consideration. The meddling of others before he was ready to act was the terrible thing. She had hoped, in spite of what she had seen, that possibly, because of the long time they had lived together and the things which (in a way) they had endured together, he might have come to care for her deeply — that she had stirred some emotion in him which would never brook real separation, though some seeming separation might be necessary. He had not married her, of course, but then there had been so many things against them. Now, in this final hour, anyhow, he might have shown that he cared deeply, even if he had deemed it necessary to let her go. She felt for the time being as if, for all that she had lived with him so long, she did not understand him, and yet, in spite of this feeling, she knew also that she did. He cared, in his way. He could not care for any one enthusiastically and demonstratively. He could care enough to seize her and take her to himself as he had, but he could not care enough to keep her if something more important appeared. He was debating her fate now. ............