AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY. Theodore Dreiser
say ‘swell.’ And don’t say ‘huh.’ Can’t you learn to cut out the slang? You talk like a factory girl. Is that all they teach you over at that school?”
“Listen to who’s talking about cutting out slang. How about yourself? You set a fine example around here, I notice.”
“Well, I’m five years older than you are. Besides I’m a man. You don’t notice Myra using any of that stuff.”
“Oh, Myra. But don’t let’s talk about that. Only think of that new house they’re going to build and the fine time they’re going to have up there next summer. Don’t you wish we could move up there, too? We could if we wanted to — if Papa and Mamma would agree to it.”
“Oh, I don’t know that it would be so wonderful,” replied her brother, who was really very much interested just the same. “There are other places besides Twelfth Lake.”
“Who said there weren’t? But not for the people that we know around here. Where else do the best people from Albany and Utica go but there now, I’d like to know. It’s going to become a regular center, Sondra says, with all the finest houses along the west shore. Just the same, the Cranstons, the Lamberts, and the Harriets are going to move up there pretty soon, too,” Bella added most definitely and defiantly. “That won’t leave so many out at Greenwood Lake, nor the very best people, either, even if the Anthonys and Nicholsons do stay here.”
“Who says the Cranstons are going up there?” asked Gilbert, now very much interested.
“Why, Sondra!”
“Who told her?”
“Bertine.”
“Gee, they’re getting gayer and gayer,” commented her brother oddly and a little enviously. “Pretty soon Lycurgus’ll be too small to hold ’em.” He jerked at a bow tie he was attempting to center and grimaced oddly as his tight neck-band pinched him slightly.
For although Gilbert had recently entered into the collar and shirt industry with his father as general supervisor of manufacturing, and with every prospect of managing and controlling the entire business eventually, still he was jealous of young Grant Cranston, a youth of his own age, very appealing and attractive physically, who was really more daring with and more attractive to the girls of the younger set. Cranston seemed to be satisfied that it was possible to combine a certain amount of social pleasure with working for his father with which Gilbert did not agree. In fact, young Griffiths would have preferred, had it been possible, so to charge young Cranston with looseness, only thus far the latter had managed to keep himself well within the bounds of sobriety. And the Cranston Wickwire Company was plainly forging ahead as one of the leading industries of Lycurgus.
“Well,” he added, after a moment, “they’re spreading out faster than I would if I had their business. They’re not the richest people in the world, either.” Just the same he was thinking that, unlike himself and his parents, the Cranstons were really more daring if not socially more avid of life. He envied them.
“And what’s more,” added Bella interestedly, “the Finchleys are to have a dance floor over the boathouse. And Sondra says that Stuart was hoping that you would come up there and spend a lot of time this summer.”
“Oh, did he?” replied Gilbert, a little enviously and sarcastically. “You mean he said he was hoping you would come up and spend a lot of time. I’ll be working this summer.”
“He didn’t say anything of the kind, smarty. Besides it wouldn’t hurt us any if we did go up there. There’s nothing much out at Greenwood any more that I can see. A lot of old hen parties.”
“Is that so? Mother would like to hear that.”
“And you’ll tell her, of course”
“Oh, no, I won’t either. But I don’t think we’re going to follow the Finchleys or the Cranstons up to Twelfth Lake just yet, either. You can go up there if you want, if Dad’ll let you.”
Just then the lower door clicked again, and Bella, forgetting her quarrel with her brother, ran down to greet her father.
Chapter 2
The head of the Lycurgus branch of the Griffiths, as contrasted with the father of the Kansas City family, was most arresting. Unlike his shorter and more confused brother of the Door of Hope, whom he had not even seen for thirty years, he was a little above the average in height, very well-knit, although comparatively slender, shrewd of eye, and incisive both as to manner and speech. Long used to contending for himself, and having come by effort as well as results to know that he was above the average in acumen and commercial ability, he was inclined at times to be a bit intolerant of those who were not. He was not ungenerous or unpleasant in manner, but always striving to maintain a calm and judicial air. And he told himself by way of excuse for his mannerisms that he was merely accepting himself at the value that others placed upon him and all those who, like himself, were successful.
Having arrived in Lycurgus about twenty-five years before with some capital and a determination to invest in a new collar enterprise which had been proposed to him, he had succeeded thereafter beyond his wildest expectations. And naturally he was vain about it. His family at this time — twenty-five years later — unquestionably occupied one of the best, as well as the most tastefully constructed residences in Lycurgus. They were also esteemed as among the few best families of this region — being, if not the oldest, at least among the most conservative, respectable and successful in Lycurgus. His two younger children, if not the eldest, were much to the front socially in the younger and gayer set and so far nothing had happened to weaken or darken his prestige.
On returning from Chicago on this particular day, after having concluded several agreements there which spelled trade harmony and prosperity for at least one year, he was inclined to feel very much at ease and on good terms with the world. Nothing had occurred to mar his trip. In his absence the Griffiths Collar and Shirt Company had gone on as though he had been present. Trade orders at the moment were large.
Now as he entered his own door he threw down a heavy bag and fashionably made coat and turned to see what he rather expected — Bella hurrying toward him. Indeed she was his pet, the most pleasing and different and artistic thing, as he saw it, that all his years had brought to him — youth, health, gayety, intelligence and affection — all in the shape of a pretty daughter.
“Oh, Daddy,” she called most sweetly and enticingly as she saw him enter. “Is that you?”
“Yes. At least it feels a little like me at the present moment. How’s my baby girl?” And he opened his arms and received the bounding form of his last born. “There’s a good, strong, healthy girl, I’ll say,” he announced as he withdrew his affectionate lips from hers. “And how’s the bad girl been behaving herself since I left? No fibbing this time.”
“Oh, just fine, Daddy. You can ask any one. I couldn’t be better.”
“And your mother?”
“She’s all right, Daddy. She’s up in her room. I don’t think she heard you come in.”
“And Myra? Is she back from Albany yet?”
“Yes. She’s in her room. I heard her playing just now. I just got in myself a little while ago.”
“Ay, hai. Gadding about again. I know you.” He held up a genial forefinger, warningly, while Bella swung onto one of his arms and kept pace with him up the stairs to the floor above.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t either, now,” she cooed shrewdly and sweetly. “Just see how you pick on me, Daddy. I was only over with Sondra for a little while. And what do you think, Daddy? They’re going to give up the place at Greenwood and build a big handsome bungalow up on Twelfth Lake right away. And Mr. Finchley’s going to buy a big electric launch for Stuart