The best positions are not always free from the most disturbing
difficulties, for great responsibility goes with great opportunity; but
Eugene went gaily to this new task, for he knew that it could not
possibly be much more difficult than the one he was leaving. Truly,
Summerfield had been a terrible man to work for. He had done his best by
petty nagging, insisting on endless variations, the most frank and
brutal criticism, to break down Eugene's imperturbable good nature and
make him feel that he could not reasonably hope to handle the situation
without Summerfield's co-operation and assistance. But he had only been
able, by so doing, to bring out Eugene's better resources. His
self-reliance, coolness under fire, ability to work long and ardently
even when his heart was scarcely in it, were all strengthened and
developed.
"Well, luck to you, Witla," he said, when Eugene informed him one
morning that he was going to leave and wished to give him notice.
"You needn't take me into consideration. I don't want you to stay if
you're going to go. The quicker the better. These long drawn-out agonies
over leaving don't interest me. There's nothing in that. Clinch the job
today if you want it. I'll find someone."
Eugene resented his indifference, but he only smiled a cordial smile in
reply. "I'll stay a little while if you want me to--one or two weeks--I
don't want to tie up your work in any way."
"Oh, no, no! You won't tie up my work. On your way, and good luck!"
"The little devil!" thought Eugene; but he shook hands and said he was
sorry. Summerfield grinned imperturbably. He wound up his affairs
quickly and got out. "Thank God," he said the day he left, "I'm out of
that hell hole!" But he came to realize afterward that Summerfield had
rendered him a great service. He had forced him to do his best and
utmost, which no one had ever done before. It had told in his character,
his spiritual make-up, his very appearance. He was no longer timid and
nervous, but rather bold and determined-looking. He had lost that fear
of very little things, for he had been sailing through stormy seas.
Little storms did not--could never again--really frighten him. He had
learned to fight. That was the one great thing Summerfield had done for
him.
In the offices of the Kalvin Company it was radically different. Here
was comparative peace and quiet. Kalvin had not fought his way up by
clubbing little people through little difficulties, but had devoted
himself to thinking out a few big things, and letting them because of
their very bigness and newness make their own way and his. He believed
in big men, honest men--the biggest and most honest he could find. He
saw something in Eugene, a tendency toward perfection perhaps which
attracted him.
The formalities of this new arrangement were soon concluded, and Eugene
came into his new and beautiful offices, heralded by the word recently
passed about that he was a most charming man. He was greeted by the
editor, Townsend Miller, in the most cordial manner. He was met by his
assembled staff in the most friendly spirit. It quite took Eugene's
breath away to realize that he was the responsible head of some fifteen
capable advertising men here in Philadelphia alone, to say nothing of
eight more in a branch office in Chicago and traveling canvassers in the
different parts of the country--the far West, the South, the Southwest,
the Canadian Northwest. His material surroundings were much more
imposing than they had been with the Summerfield Company. The idea of
all these men was to follow up business, to lay interesting propositions
before successful merchants and manufacturers who had not yet tried the
columns of the _North American Weekly_, to make contracts which should
be mutually advantageous to the advertiser and the _Weekly_, and to gain
and retain good-will according to the results rendered. It was no very
difficult task in connection with the _North American Weekly_ to do
this, because owing to a novel and appealing editorial policy it was
already in possession of a circulation of five hundred thousand a week,
and was rapidly gaining more. It was not difficult, as Eugene soon
found, to show advertisers in most cases that this was a proposition in
which worth-while results could be obtained. What with Eugene's
fertility in suggesting new methods of advertising, his suaveness of
approach and geniality in laying before the most recalcitrant his very
desirable schemes, his ability to get ideas and suggestions out of his
men in conference, he was really in no danger of not being able to hold
his own, and indeed was destined to make a rather remarkable showing.
Eugene and Angela settled into what might have been deemed a fixed
attitude of comfort and refinement. Without much inconvenience to
himself and with little friction among those about, he had succeeded in
reorganizing his staff along lines which were eminently satisfactory to
himself. Some men who were formerly with the Summerfield Company were
now with him. He had brought them because he found he could inculcate in
them the spirit of sympathetic relationship and good understanding such
as Kalvin desired. He was not making the progress which Summerfield was
making with really less means at his command, but then, on the other
hand, this was a rich company which did not ask or expect any such
struggle as that which Summerfield had been and was still compelled to
make for himself. The business ethics of this company were high. It
believed in clean methods, good salaries, honest service. Kalvin liked
him, and he had one memorable conversation with Eugene some time after
he came there--almost a year--which stuck in his memory and did him much
good. Kalvin saw clearly wherein both his strength and his weakness lay,
and once said to Fredericks, his business manager: "The one thing I like
about that man is his readiness with ideas. He always has one, and he's
the most willing man to try I ever knew. He has imagination. He needs to
be steadied in the direction of sober thought, so that he doesn't
promise more than he can fulfil. Outside this I see nothing the matter
with him."
Fredericks agreed. He liked Eugene also. He did as much as he could to
make things smooth, but of course Eugene's task was personal and to be
worked out by him solely. Kalvin said to him when it became necessary to
raise his salary:
"I've watched your work for a year now and I'm going to keep my word and
raise your salary. You're a good man. You have many excellent qualities
which I want and need in the man who sits at that desk; but you have
also some failings. I don't want you to get offended. A man in my
position is always like a father who sits at the head of a family, and
my lieutenants are like my sons. I have to take an interest in them
because they take an interest in me. Now you've done your work
well--very well, but you are subject to one fault which may sometime
lead into trouble. You're a little too enthusiastic. I don't think you
stop to think enough. You have a lot of ideas. They swarm in your head
like bees, and sometimes you let them all out at once and they buzz
around you and confuse you and everyone else connected with you. You
would really be a better man if you had, not less ideas--I wouldn't say
that--but better control of them. You want to do too many things at
once. Go slow. Take your time. You have lots of time. You're young yet.
Think! If you're in doubt, come down and consult with me. I'm older in
this business than you are, and I'll help you all I can."
Eugene smiled and said: "I think that's true."
"It is true," said Kalvin; "and now I want to speak of another thing
which is a little more of a personal matter, and I don't want you to
take offence, for I'm saying it for your benefit. If I'm any judge of
men, and I flatter myself sometimes that I am, you're a man whose
greatest weakness lies--and, mind you, I have no actual evidence to go
upon, not one scrap--your greatest weakness lies perhaps not so much in
the direction of women as in a love of luxury generally, of which women
might become, and usually are, a very conspicuous part."
Eugene flushed the least bit nervously and resentfully, for he thought
he had conducted himself in the most circumspect manner here--in fact,
everywhere since the days he had begun to put the Riverwood incident
behind him.
"Now I suppose you wonder why I say that. Well, I raised two boys, both
dead now, and one was just a little like you. You have so much
imagination that it runs not only to ideas in business, but ideas in
dress and comfort and friends and entertainment. Be careful of the kind
of people you get in with. Stick to the conservative element. It may be
hard for you, but it's best for you, materially speaking. You're the
kind of man, if my observations and intuitions are correct, who is apt
to be carried away by his ideals of anything--beauty, women, show. Now I
have no ascetic objections to women, but to you they are dangerous, as
yet. At bottom, I don't think you have the making of a real cold
business man in you, but you're a splendid lieutenant. I'll tell you
frankly I don't think a better man than you has ever sat, or could sit,
in that chair. You are very exceptional, but your very ability makes you
an uncertain quantity. You're just on the threshold of your career. This
additional two thousand dollars is going to open up new opportunities to
you. Keep cool. Keep out of the hands of clever people. Don't let subtle
women come near. You're married, and for your sake I hope you love your
wife. If you don't, pretend to, and stay within the bounds of
convention. Don't let any scandal ever attach to you. If you do it will
be absolutely fatal so far as I am concerned. I have had to part with a
number of excellent men in my time because a little money turned their
heads and they went wild over some one woman, or many women. Don't you
be that way. I like you. I'd like to see you get along. Be cold if you
can. Be careful. Think. That's the best advice I can give you, and I
wish you luck."
He waved him a dismissal, and Eugene rose. He wondered how this man had
seen so clearly into his character. It was the truth, and he knew it
was. His inmost thoughts and feelings were evidently written where this
man could see them. Fittingly was he president of a great company. He
could read men.
He went back into his office and decided to take this lesson to heart.
He must keep cool and sane always. "I guess I've had enough experience
to know that, though, by now," he said and dismissed the idea from his
mind.
For this year and the year following, when his salary was raised to
twelve thousand, Eugene flourished prodigiously. He and Miller became
better friends than ever. Miller had advertising ideas which were of
value to Eugene. Eugene had art and editorial ideas which were of value
to Miller. They were together a great deal at social functions, and were
sometimes hailed by their companions as the "Kalvin Kids," and the
"Limelight Twins." Eugene learned to play golf with Miller, though he
was a slow student and never good, and also tennis. He and Mrs. Miller,
Angela and Townsend, frequently made a set on their own court or over at
Miller's. They automobiled and rode a great deal. Eugene met some
charming women, particularly young ones, at dances, of which he had
become very fond, and at dinners and receptions. They and the Millers
were invited to a great many affairs, but by degrees it became apparent
to him, as it did to Miller and Mrs. Miller, that his presence was much
more desired by a certain type of smart woman than was that of his wife.
"Oh, he is so clever!" was an observation which might have been heard in
various quarters. Frequently the compliment stopped there and nothing
was said of Angela, or later on it would come up that she was not quite
so nice. Not that she was not charming and worthy and all that, "But you
know, my dear, she isn't quite so available. You can't use her as you
can some women."
It was at this time that Angela first conceived the notion seriously
that a child might have a sobering effect on Eugene. She had, in spite
of the fact that for some time now they had been well able to support
one or more, and in spite also of the fact that Eugene's various
emotional lapses indicated that he needed a sobering weight of some
kind, steadily objected in her mind to the idea of subjecting herself to
this ordeal. To tell the truth, aside from the care and worry which
always, owing to her early experience with her sister's children, had
been associated in her mind with the presence of them, she was decidedly
afraid of the result. She had heard her mother say that most girls in
their infancy showed very clearly whether they were to be good healthy
mothers or not--whether they were to have children--and her recollection
was that her mother had once said that she would not have any children.
She half believed it to be impossible in her case, though she had never
told this to Eugene, and she had guarded herself jealously against the
chance of having any.
Now, however, after watching Eugene all these years, seeing the drift of
his present mood, feeling the influence of prosperity on him, she wished
sincerely that she might have one, without great danger or discomfort to
herself, in order that she might influence and control him. He might
learn to love it. The sense of responsibility involved would have its
effect. People would look to him to conduct himself soberly under these
circumstances, and he probably would--he was so subject to public
opinion now. She thought of this a long time, wondering, for fear and
annoyance were quite strong influences with her, and she did nothing
immediately. She listened to various women who talked with her from time
to time about the child question, and decided that perhaps it was very
wrong not to have children--at least one or two; that it was very likely
possible that she could have one, if she wanted to. A Mrs. Sanifore who
called on her quite frequently in Philadelphia--she met her at the
Millers'--told her that she was sure she could have one even if she was
past the usual age for first babies; for she had known so many women who
had.
"If I were you, Mrs. Witla, I would see a doctor," she suggested one
day. "He can tell you. I'm sure you can if you want to. They have so
many ways of dieting and exercising you which make all the difference in
the world. I'd like to have you come some day and see my doctor, if you
will."
Angela decided that she would, for curiosity's sake, and in case she
wished to act in the matter some time; and was informed by the wiseacre
who examined her that in his opinion there was no doubt that she could.
She would have to subject herself to a strict regimen. Her muscles would
have to be softened by some form of manipulation. Otherwise, she was
apparently in a healthy, normal condition and would suffer no
intolerable hardship. This pleased and soothed Angela greatly. It gave
her a club wherewith to strike her lord--a chain wherewith to bind him.
She did not want to act at once. It was too serious a matter. She wanted
time to think. But it was pleasant to know that she could do this.
Unless Eugene sobered down now----
During the time in which he had been working for the Summerfield Company
and since then for the Kalvin Company here in Philadelphia, Eugene, in
spite of the large salary he was receiving--more each year--really had
not saved so much money. Angela had seen to it that some of his earnings
were invested in Pennsylvania Railroad stock, which seemed to her safe
enough, and in a plot of ground two hundred by two hundred feet at Upper
Montclair, New Jersey, near New York, where she and Eugene might some
day want to live. His business engagements had necessitated considerable
personal expenditures, his opportunity to enter the Baltusrol Golf Club,
the Yere Tennis Club, the Philadelphia Country Club, and similar
organizations had taken annual sums not previously contemplated, and the
need of having a modest automobile, not a touring car, was obvious. His
short experience with that served as a lesson, however, for it was found
to be a terrific expense, entirely disproportionate to his income. After
paying for endless repairs, salarying a chauffeur wearisomely, and
meeting with an accident which permanently damaged the looks of his
machine, he decided to give it up. They could rent autos for all the
uses they would have. And so that luxury ended there.
It was curious, too, how during this time their Western home relations
fell rather shadowily into the background. Eugene had not been home now
for nearly two years, and Angela had seen only David of all her family
since she had been in Philadelphia. In the fall of their third year
there Angela's mother died and she returned to Blackwood for a short
time. The following spring Eugene's father died. Myrtle moved to New
York; her husband, Frank Bangs, was connected with a western furniture
company which was maintaining important show rooms in New York. Myrtle
had broken down nervously and taken up Christian Science, Eugene heard.
Henry Burgess, Sylvia's husband, had become president of the bank with
which he had been so long connected, and had sold his father's paper,
the Alexandria _Appeal_, when the latter suddenly died. Marietta was
promising to come to Philadelphia next year, in order, as she said, that
Eugene might get her a rich husband; but Angela informed him privately
that Marietta was now irrevocably engaged and would, the next year,
marry a wealthy Wisconsin lumber man. Everyone was delighted to hear
that Eugene was doing so well, though all regretted the lapse of his
career as an artist. His fame as an advertising man was growing, and he
was thought to have considerable weight in the editorial direction of
the _North American Weekly_. So he flourished.