him. It was agreed that we should spend one more night in the house
where we had known so many pleasures before departing. That night of all
nights, we had a sumptuous dinner, wine, cordials, everything that two
happy, healthy people could indulge in. It was on that occasion that I
fully concluded that I could not live without him, and discovered that
things which I had hitherto loathed and despised, I now looked upon as a
part of my daily existence.
“The city was reached in due time. The first day here was given to rest,
then a round of sightseeing which fairly dazzled me. I had never given
much thought as to the immensity of Chicago, and it is little wonder that
my unsophisticated mind was overcrowded with the many things that were on
every hand for it to feed upon.
“It was after ten days of revelry, during which time we went to every
place of entertainment, both high and low, that this city contains, that
my mind for the first time reverted to my baby, and then to Harry. Not
that I cared for him still, but I was seized with a fit of curiosity.
About this time horse racing began here at Washington Park track, and
as my friend and admirer was in that business, I, too, became very
enthusiastic in the sport. Every day I could be seen in a box, the most
lavishly gowned woman at the ring side. I had money and tips, and being
full of the blood that tingles with feverish excitement when anything
is at stake, I quickly and easily became the best known woman among the
talent which frequents the race course; I wagered and won and lost with
the same confiding nonchalance. I cared nothing for the money, for I
knew not the value, but I was filled with the true desire to be able
to pick the winner. At last the season ended, but not until a certain
influential and wealthy man of this city managed to fall desperately in
love with me, and as he was young, handsome and clever I must admit that
the fickle goddess who waves the magic wand over such affairs succeeded
in convincing me that my California friend had faded some, the glamour
seemed to have receded, but honesty and gratitude had not yet been
completely eliminated from my sinful soul, and it was with real tears and
sobs that I told him that I had learned to love the younger man. His
reply only verified statements which I had heard made in regard to him,
being that he was always cool, even at the betting stand. He would lose
or win a fortune without a change of countenance.
“‘But his reply.’
“‘Oh, yes,’ he simply said, ‘all right, the season is ended, I am through
with you, anyway.’ Then taking my hand in his, he said good-bye and
departed.
“Then began the new life. Oh, how easy the second step! Rather than
dread it, I looked forward to the completing of the arrangements with
pleasure. My new suitor knew my past history except that I had a child.
We took elegant apartments, and he spent the greater portion of his
time with me. We were very congenial companions; for months this life
continued; at last the existence became monotonous to me. I began to long
for something, I knew not what. I often found myself thinking of my past
life, my childhood home and my child—the memory of whom I had allowed
to go almost entirely out of my mind. One day Mr. Eddy came to see me
and found me weeping; he questioned me and then I told him of my baby,
and God bless him, he insisted on my sending for her, which I did. He
arranged it all for the nurse to come to me and in seven days my little
girl was in my arms. I then became possessed of a new feeling, such, I
think, as only a mother can experience. I felt as if I must change my
mode of living, but how? To go to my father meant to be turned away and
the burden was double when the care of a baby and earning a living were
both to be considered. Again I put the matter before my friend; he was
kindness itself and proposed to marry me and be the father that my child
needed. I gladly accepted his offer, but before we could be legally
married, it was necessary for me to obtain a divorce from Harry. We took
the first steps in that direction, one of which was to advertise as the
law specified, and lo and behold! the advertisement had an unlooked for
effect. It brought Harry from his long silence. He found me and we talked
the matter over with my husband to be. It was at this meeting that I
learned the cause of Harry’s action. He told us as follows:
“Our old California friend had induced him to bet his every cent on
certain races on the day he came home with the crowd, and he had lost
all. Then in order to retrieve his losses he was advised to become a
forger in order to get more money with which to again play the races.
It was the same old story, he lost, then for fear of punishment he left
the country. I then told him all. Oh, how sorry I felt for poor Harry!
After exchanging ideas, we became convinced that it was all a plot of
the kind old man in California to get me in his clutches. After we were
assured of that, Harry asked me to promise not to go further with divorce
proceedings until he saw me again. I promised him. I also promised him
not to receive a penny from the man who now wanted to marry me, and as I
could not live as I had been, with my child under the same roof, we left.
I sold my handsome gowns, and jewelry, furnished this poor little home
and baby and I have lived here since.
“‘But Harry, where is he?’
“‘In the State’s Prison of California.’
“‘Ah, he was caught at last and punished for forgery.’
“‘No, when he left me he went to California and killed my traducer, he is
serving a term of ten years for manslaughter, and I am waiting for him.’”
TALE SEVEN.
MY LOVER’S BEQUEST.
TWO WOMEN.
“I know two women and one is chaste,
And cold as the snows on a Winter waste,
Stainless ever in act and thought
A cruel tongue and a jealous mind.
(As a man, born dumb, in his speech errs not),
But she had malice toward her kind,
Void of pity and full of greed,
She judges the world by her narrow creed;
A brewer of quarrels, a breeder of hate,
Yet she holds the key to ‘Society’s’ gate.
The other woman with heart of flame,
Went mad for love that marred her name;
And out of the grave of her murdered faith,
She rose like a soul that has passed through death.
Her aims are noble, her pity so broad,
It covers the world like the mercy of God,
A soother of discord, a healer of woes,
Peace follows her footsteps wherever she goes,
The worthier life of the two no doubt,
And yet ‘Society’ locks her out.”
“You ask me why my house is so gorgeously furnished, why the music, why
the beautiful young women lounging about? You say the oriental splendor
reminds you of what your ideas have always been as to the making of a
typical harem. I do not blame you. Men are very apt to make more serious
mistakes than you have made in this instance. Would you like to see my
girls? You would, eh?”
As this tall, dignified woman completed her monologue, she touched an
ivory button on the side of the mahogany secretary in front of which
she was seated. The silence which followed the closing of her remarks
was broken only by the sounds of sweet strains of music, which floated
through this spacious house on one of the notable streets of the
“Tenderloin” district of Chicago.
I sat and quietly waited for the response, which I knew would come at
the touch of that bell. A description of the interior of that palace
is beyond my power, and had I tried to take mental notes, I would have
failed completely, for I felt the steady gaze of her blue eyes upon me
so strong that I could not center my mind on anything but the woman. In
spite of the fact that she was not more than thirty-five years old, her
hair was silvery gray; her eyes were bright, her skin soft and fair; a
smile of natural sincerity helped to light the sweet face, adding an
expression to the pink and white that would cause any man to become a
close observer, if not an admirer, of the woman, even without making
a more scrutinizing survey of her many other charms. The poise of her
head, the full, round neck, the broad, yet plump shoulders, the long,
beautifully moulded arm and tapering fingers, served to attract a
reasonable share of attention from the heaving bosom and slender waist
of my hostess. My going over process was interrupted by a merry laugh,
which caused my fair entertainer to rise, then with the grace and dignity
of a queen, she presented to me the entire coterie of new comers, who
constituted the bevy of young ladies which came into the room.
I was at once convinced that all the income of this house was not spent
on the furnishings, for each young woman was gowned in a manner befitting
the occasion. Some music and a few songs occupied the next fifteen or
twenty minutes, during which time I used my eyes with as much of a
critical air as was possible. Presently I told the lady of the house that
I wished to talk with her in person before I made further acquaintance
with any of the inmates of her rendezvous. The hint was sufficient, and
we were soon alone.
“Well,” said she pleasantly.
“Yes, I want to talk privately with you.”
“Proceed.”
“But, had we not better retire to some private room where we will not be
in danger of being disturbed?”
“This house is mine; we will not be interrupted here,” she said sweetly.
“Thank you. Then I will tell you what I want. I am looking for facts and
wish you to give me the entire history of your life.”
The smile of anticipation faded into a look of remorse, that expression
in turn was followed by an inquisitive look which told me that the woman
was feigning misunderstanding.
“Yes,” I continued, “I want to know how you happened to be here.” The
fair cheeks flushed, the intelligent brow wrinkled, while hard lines were
plainly visible around her mouth, as I finished the sentence.
“It may be a long story,” said the woman, as she gazed at the bright
buckles on the dainty slippers which encased her feet.
“I am willing to listen if you will be kind enough to tell me all,” said
I.
“My early life was devoid of anything more than most girls are called
upon to endure. At the age of twelve I lost my mother, at fifteen death
claimed my father, then I went to live with a maiden aunt in Columbus,
Ind. I was poor, very poor. As I now look back and view the past, I
wonder that I was able to continue my studies until I graduated with
high honors, but I did and the day I was seventeen my greatest heights
of happiness were scaled, for it was on that eventful day that my
youthful lover, Jamie Harris and I became engaged with the consent of my
auntie, provided, however, we would not think of marriage until Jamie
had finished his course at college, which he was taking at the State
University, located at Bloomington, Ind. We two young lovers, eager in
our happiness, consented to the plans which my spinster relative laid for
us. Jamie was twenty; he had two more years in the regular collegiate
course, then a professional course of some sort and we would be ready to
take up life’s journey.
“Meanwhile, I bided my time, looking forward to the longed for event with
anticipation in every way worthy of the reward. One long year dragged
along; I cared for no one, thought of nothing but to dream of Jamie.
All the little details of ‘love in a cottage’ had been thoroughly gone
over, and directed, I, in my own mind, trying to find some method of
improvement on the time worn ethics of a wife’s duty.
“When morning came I busied myself with the affairs of my aunt’s humble
home, which I, too, had known as my only shelter for years. I moved with
the spirit of love. I became mechanical in doing things while I drew on
my imagination to such an extent, that at times I almost fancied that it
was our home (Jamie’s and mine), and that I was serving him. I planned
and thought so much of how I would always have his slippers ready, and
papers and cigars, for he smoked. Oh, all the dreams made me so happy and
contented.
“It was the beginning of the second year that I received an invitation to
visit a friend in Franklin, Ind., a near-by town. During my stay there
I met many and made scores of friends; it was then that I realized how
closely my life and Jamie’s had become cemented together. I saw the world
as I had never before known it to exist; I was the recipient of many
favors at the hands of my new friends. If I failed to write to Jamie as
often as I had done, he excused me by saying in his letters that he was
glad I was having a good time. Theaters, drives, parties, dinners, etc.,
to the fulfillment of my fondest hopes. More excitement than I had ever
expected to know.
“The friend whom I was visiting was a few years my senior, and when I
explained to her that I was engaged and suggested that it might not
be good form for me to receive the attentions of a certain young man,
who insisted on occupying most of my time, she only laughed and said I
had lots to learn. She then gave me much information along the lines
of society conventionalities. She was my best friend. I heard all she
said and allowed myself to put too broad a construction on her words. I
allowed words to be poured into my ears that changed the feeling which I
had had for poor Jamie. My new admirer was rich, handsome and gallant and
much admired by all the girls of ‘the set.’
“True to the expectation of those girls, I seemed to win Francis Winslow.
He had no eyes for any but me. Things drifted along until the time came
for my home going, then all on account of his persuasions, I remained a
week longer than my allotted time. When I arrived home I received several
letters from Jamie and a severe scolding from my aunt. The letters dated
back ten days; the tone of the oldest one was the same sweet, endearing
sentiment, which had always made his messages so precious, but as I sat
reading through the many pages, I perceived as I thought a coldness
(though I know now it was love’s anxiety). The last two hurt me; they
referred to things which I could not account for his knowing. Finally
the closing of the last letter said, ‘If not too busy flirting with your
friend, Winslow, please answer.’
“It was more than my young heart could bear. I did not know then that I
was just looking for some excuse for stinging him and now it had come.
I had never flirted; I had met Mr. Winslow under proper conditions and
circumstances. He had always been courteous to me. I had been true to
Jamie, though my love had faltered. Next day’s mail brought a letter to
my aunt and one to me; the one to aunt was from Jamie. I do not know what
it contained, but it was of such a nature that she heaped a tirade of
abuse on me.
“‘Just to think!’ said she. ‘I’ve worked and done for you all these
years and tried to raise you decent, and done all this for my poor dead
sister’s sake, and when I’ve got you fit to marry a good man, you go and
spoil it all by takin’ up with a fop you nor the Lord don’t know nothin’
about.’
“The letter which I had tucked away in my bosom was from Mr. Winslow.
It stated that he was going to visit in this city and he would be glad
to have me join him. ‘I know,’ it said, ‘that you will have to invent
some excuse for your absence from home, but that can be arranged by your
saying you met my cousin, while in Franklin, and she will write you soon,
asking you to spend a week with her in Chicago. She is the wife of a
railroad man and will send you transportation.’
“My mind was quickly made up; I would not stand my aunt’s abuse and
Jamie’s insults. If Mr. Winslow liked me, as he said, he would probably
propose to me and we would get married, ‘so there now.’ That letter was
followed two days later by one from Mr. Winslow’s cousin, enclosing
a ticket, which auntie did not know from a pass. The invitation was
pressing and I came here.”
“But go on,” said I, as the long pause seemed to add solemnity to the
stillness. “Tell me more of Jamie, of Winslow and of this,” said I, with
a wave of my hand, indicating the interior of the spacious house.
“Be patient,” she said, and then continued.
“Winslow met me at the station, then it was a ceaseless round
of theaters, dinners and other amusements, which were new to my
unsophisticated mind. His cousin was a myth. The woman who claimed to be
his relative was none other than a hireling, who did all in her power to
assist him in entrapping me. The speed with which I fell was something
terrific; the bottomless pit of Hell was not very far away and I was an
easy victim to the seductive plans of my pretended friend. The scene of
my defamation is still fresh in my mind. It seems but yesterday, since
he called for me at the home of the supposed cousin. Oh, the blackness
of that night as it now appears to me, is only intensified and made more
dismal, when I think of the lights, the gay music, the finely arrayed
women and the entrancing wine; it was a long night of song and revelry,
only to end in the beginning of a long day of miserable, torturing,
painful existence. That fortress of purity, which is all a girl has
upon which she can rely at all times, was stormed. The excitement, the
glittering lights, and the enchanting environment added such argument
as the man lacked in his make up. I suppose I was an easy victim, wine
dulled my senses to such an extent that, as God is my judge, I was not
wholly responsible for my acts; when morning came I awoke and knew that
the great white star of virginity, which I had heretofore followed, had
been transformed into a dull leaden aspect, which would only bespeak for
me sullen misery and degradation.”
“Where did it all happen?”
“Right here in this house,” sighed the woman.
“Here, and you have lived here ever since?”
“No, at least not all of the time; after a few days of sobbing, longing
for the old life and for Jamie returned to me. Then the horrible fact
that I could never return to Jamie confronted me. Oh, what was I to do?
With nothing in view and no aim in life, I returned to my aunt’s home
only to be told that I could get out and ‘shift for myself.’ ‘This ain’t
no home for no good for nuthin’ strumpet like you; clear out, I say! You
ungrateful hussy.’
“If you will excuse me I will not detail to you the feelings of pain
which I endured as stings from her lash. It is quite enough to be
compelled to live through such periods without being called upon to
recite them in after years.
“From there I went to the home of the friend in whose house I had met
Mr. Winslow, then with that feeling of trust and confidence, I told
her all; she blandly stated that she was sorry, but that I should have
known better. Oh! that bitter sting, and from this woman, who could have
taken me in her arms and heard my sobs, that act alone, I think, would
have consoled me some; but no; she who could have replaced me upon the
pedestal from which all women shine, said, ‘Well, run along now, I must
dress for Mrs. ⸺’s reception. Maybe some day I will talk it all over with
you.’
“‘But, oh, please hear me! just a little. Help me,’ I begged.
“‘I will see; I heard of some one who wanted a good girl, and I will try
to find out, for you see, Lillian, you could do housework.’
“Bah! ruined, turned into the street, scorned, too miserable to live,
afraid to die.
“I was not too good, nor too proud to work, but that was not what my
heart yearned for; pity, love, sympathy, a kind look, a gentle touch
would have done much to heal my troubled mind. I came back to Chicago. I
went to Mr. Winslow’s cousin; she told me the cold, hard, cruel truth.
I had been enticed to the city for the one purpose of gratifying the
amorous desire of Mr. Winslow. The truth had long ago forced itself upon
me, but the confession by the woman who had assisted in the plot made me
desperate.
“What to do? Where to go, were the questions. Home I had none; true
friends were far away and unknown things to me. The lake! Oh, at last a
friend, who could receive me in all my sorrow and shame, a refuge which
never failed to take suffering humanity into its safe retreat, giving
solace to all pain. Yes, I would write to my aunt and Jamie; I would
confess to them what I was afraid to confront God with. My plans were
all completed; I had one dollar to my name, enough to pay for a night’s
lodging at some fairly respectable hotel. There I could write to them,
and then when all was quiet, steal out to the pier and * * * then.”
* * * * *
“Four o’clock next morning I was ready. I stole out of the hotel, wended
my way to the nearest place where I could walk far out on the timbers
which projected into the moaning water. No hesitancy on my part; I
deliberately tied the cord which I had brought around my skirts, let my
hair down, so that the long plaits hung below my waist, then pressing
the locket, (this locket) which contained my father’s miniature, to my
lips, I leaped as far out as I could.
“Down, down, below the gurgling waters, up to the surface, then down
again, with just a faint dreamy view of the lights on Michigan avenue,
then all was dark, all I could see was Jamie, as I felt myself being
pulled along by some irresistible force. I only remember saying,
‘Good-bye, Jamie.’”
* * * * *
“‘Oh, I think she is alive yet, Capin’,’ was what I heard a voice say
long before I was able to assure the speaker that he was correct.
“I had been picked up by a fisherman as the boat was starting out for
the day’s haul. I recovered only to suffer more, too miserable to live,
too unfortunate to die. A few days of privation and want brought me to
this house, where I took up the routine life of the other members of the
establishment, and vied with my associates for favors from the opposite
sex. Success was the result of my efforts; I was soon known as a favorite
of the frequenters of the resort; when wine held sway in my brain, I was
glad the fisherman heard the splash of the water. Again, when my brain
was dull from isolation and inactivity, my heart was sad. One evening
the bell rang just as it did this evening; the signal was given for the
‘ladies’ to appear in the parlor, as was the custom when callers were
announced. With ill-feigned pleasure I led the way, being followed by the
other girls. I marched through the hall, across the back parlor, treading
always on soft rugs, my white satin gown flowing in rhythmical time to
the strains of the music; and there amid the scenes of splendor for which
this luxurious establishment was noted I found myself standing face to
face with Jamie. Yes, my own dear, true Jamie. Oh, forgive me, sir, for
this expression of feeling, but again to live those moments of delirious
joy, mingled with fear and anticipation, is more than I can bear. With
one bound I left the other girls far behind me. Swiftly crossing the room
I appealed to him as only a love maddened girl can appeal to the object
of her devotion.
“Oh, God! what horrible retribution was about to be brought upon me; how
much more was I to suffer and how long would my breath continue to come
in sobbing gasps as I begged and prayed and pleaded with him to take me
in his arms as of old. ‘Jamie, Jamie, my own dear Jamie!’ I cried. ‘Hear
me, see me, touch me! Oh, I beg of you, Jamie, listen. Don’t you know it
is I? It is your Lillian! What, Jamie, don’t you know me?’
“In spite of all my entreaties he stood like stone unmoved and unaffected
by anything I said or did. Presently a new thought struck me. I thought
of the cottage and of the roses which Jamie loved so well; then madly
tearing a white rose which I wore on my breast I handed it to him,
begging him to take it.
“‘Do take it, Jamie,’ I said; ‘it is as pure as I once was. Ah, but then
you loved me, Jamie, and your love was pure, too, was it not? Tell me,
Jamie, tell me, oh, even if you hate me now, tell me in that same soft
voice that I know so well, that you loved me then. The memory of that
love will make me pure again, Jamie, if you will only speak to me again.
Jamie, take this rose; take it, Jamie, for the sake of the memory of
that love which I had for you. I know, Jamie, it’s all my fault; it’s
not your will that I am here; I wronged you cruelly. Don’t you think,
Jamie, that I have suffered enough, or do you still insist on making my
life death?’ All my supplication to him was in vain. He stood with that
firm, determined air which I knew so well, with his hand extended with
palm toward me, as if to push me away as he would some vile, loathsome
creature. He did not speak to me; he seemed to know that he would find
me here. When I had ceased pleading with him he handed me a large white
envelope. With feverish delight I clutched it. As I did so I saw an
inscription upon it. Forgetting my pain, misery and degradation, with a
wild cry I ran to a position near a light. What was it I read? ‘To be
opened after I am gone.’