Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Mistresses -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
The rain, which threatened at twelve and began at one, served equally
well to cause her to retrace her steps and remain within doors as it did
to reduce Hurstwood's spirits and give him a wretched day.
The morrow was Saturday, a half-holiday in many business quarters, and
besides it was a balmy, radiant day, with the trees and grass shining
exceedingly green after the rain of the night before. When she went out
the sparrows were twittering merrily in joyous choruses. She could not
help feeling, as she looked across the lovely park, that life was a
joyous thing for those who did not need to worry, and she wished over
and over that something might interfere now to preserve for her the
comfortable state which she had occupied. She did not want Drouet or his
money when she thought of it, nor anything more to do with Hurstwood,
but only the content and ease of mind she had experienced, for, after
all, she had been happy--happier, at least, than she was now when
confronted by the necessity of making her way alone.
When she arrived in the business part it was quite eleven o'clock, and
the business had little longer to run. She did not realise this at
first, being affected by some of the old distress which was a result of
her earlier adventure into this strenuous and exacting quarter. She
wandered about, assuring herself that she was making up her mind to look
for something, and at the same time feeling that perhaps it was not
necessary to be in such haste about it. The thing was difficult to
encounter, and she had a few days. Besides, she was not sure that she
was really face to face again with the bitter problem of
self-sustenance. Anyhow, there was one change for the better. She knew
that she had improved in appearance. Her manner had vastly changed. Her
clothes were becoming, and men--well-dressed men, some of the kind who
before had gazed at her indifferently from behind their polished
railings and imposing office partitions--now gazed into her face with a
soft light in their eyes. In a way, she felt the power and satisfaction
of the thing, but it did not wholly reassure her. She looked for nothing
save what might come legitimately and without the appearance of special
favour. She wanted something, but no man should buy her by false
protestations or favour. She proposed to earn her living honestly.
"This store closes at one on Saturdays," was a pleasing and satisfactory
legend to see upon doors which she felt she ought to enter and inquire
for work. It gave her an excuse, and after encountering quite a number
of them, and noting that the clock registered 12.15, she decided that it
would be no use to seek further to-day, so she got on a car and went to
Lincoln Park. There was always something to see there--the flowers, the
animals, the lake--and she flattered herself that on Monday she would be
up betimes and searching. Besides, many things might happen between now
and Monday.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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