Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Didactic fiction; Mistresses -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
They were married by a Baptist minister, the first divine they found
convenient.
At last the Chicago firm answered. It was by Mr. Moy’s dictation. He
was astonished that Hurstwood had done this; very sorry that it had
come about as it had. If the money were returned, they would not
trouble to prosecute him, as they really bore him no ill-will. As for
his returning, or their restoring him to his former position, they had
not quite decided what the effect of it would be. They would think it
over and correspond with him later, possibly, after a little time, and
so on.
The sum and substance of it was that there was no hope, and they wanted
the money with the least trouble possible. Hurstwood read his doom. He
decided to pay $9,500 to the agent whom they said they would send,
keeping $1,300 for his own use. He telegraphed his acquiescence,
explained to the representative who called at the hotel the same day,
took a certificate of payment, and told Carrie to pack her trunk. He
was slightly depressed over this newest move at the time he began to
make it, but eventually restored himself. He feared that even yet he
might be seized and taken back, so he tried to conceal his movements,
but it was scarcely possible. He ordered Carrie’s trunk sent to the
depot, where he had it sent by express to New York. No one seemed to be
observing him, but he left at night. He was greatly agitated lest at
the first station across the border or at the depot in New York there
should be waiting for him an officer of the law.
Carrie, ignorant of his theft and his fears, enjoyed the entry into the
latter city in the morning. The round green hills sentinelling the
broad, expansive bosom of the Hudson held her attention by their beauty
as the train followed the line of the stream. She had heard of the
Hudson River, the great city of New York, and now she looked out,
filling her mind with the wonder of it.
As the train turned east at Spuyten Duyvil and followed the east bank
of the Harlem River, Hurstwood nervously called her attention to the
fact that they were on the edge of the city. After her experience with
Chicago, she expected long lines of cars—a great highway of tracks—and
noted the difference. The sight of a few boats in the Harlem and more
in the East River tickled her young heart. It was the first sign of the
great sea. Next came a plain street with five-story brick flats, and
then the train plunged into the tunnel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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