The Greatest Works of Theodore Dreiser. Theodore Dreiser
Zella had ostensibly departed. But even so, such a relationship once established! What then? Would he not be expected to continue it, or let himself in for possible complications in case he did not? He danced with and fondled her in a daring and aggressive fashion, yet thinking as he did so, “But this is not what I should be doing either, is it? This is Lycurgus. I am a Griffiths, here. I know how these people feel toward me — their parents even. Do I really care for her? Is there not something about her quick and easy availability which, if not exactly dangerous in so far as my future here is concerned, is not quite satisfactory — too quickly intimate?” He was experiencing a sensation not unrelated to his mood in connection with the lupanar in Kansas City — attracted and yet repulsed. He could do no more than kiss and fondle her here in a somewhat restrained way until at last Dillard and Zella returned, whereupon the same degree of intimacy was no longer possible.
A clock somewhere striking two, it suddenly occurred to Rita that she must be going — her parents would object to her staying out so late. And since Diliard gave no evidence of deserting Zella, it followed, of course, that Clyde was to see her home, a pleasure that now had been allayed by a vague suggestion of disappointment or failure on the part of both. He had not risen to her expectations, he thought. Obviously he lacked the courage yet to follow up the proffer of her favors, was the way she explained it to herself.
At her own door, not so far distant, and with a conversation which was still tinctured with intimations of some future occasions which might prove more favorable, her attitude was decidedly encouraging, even here. They parted, but with Clyde still saying to himself that this new relationship was developing much too swiftly. He was not sure that he should undertake a relationship such as this here — so soon, anyhow. Where now were all his fine decisions made before coming here? What was he going to decide? And yet because of the sensual warmth and magnetism of Rita, he was irritated by his resolution and his inability to proceed as he otherwise might.
Two things which eventually decided him in regard to this came quite close together. One related to the attitude of the Griffiths themselves, which, apart from that of Gilbert, was not one of opposition or complete indifference, so much as it was a failure on the part of Samuel Griffiths in the first instance and the others largely because of him to grasp the rather anomalous, if not exactly lonely position in which Clyde would find himself here unless the family chose to show him at least some little courtesy or advise him cordially from time to time. Yet Samuel Griffiths, being always very much pressed for time, had scarcely given Clyde a thought during the first month, at least. He was here, properly placed, as he heard, would be properly looked after in the future — what more, just now, at least?
And so for all of five weeks before any action of any kind was taken, and with Gilbert Griffiths comforted thereby, Clyde was allowed to drift along in his basement world wondering what was being intended in connection with himself. The attitude of others, including Dillard and these girls, finally made his position here seem strange.
However, about a month after Clyde had arrived, and principally because Gilbert seemed so content to say nothing regarding him, the elder Griffiths inquired one day:
“Well, what about your cousin? How’s he doing by now?” And Gilbert, only a little worried as to what this might bode, replied, “Oh, he’s all right. I started him off in the shrinking room. Is that all right?”
“Yes, I think so. That’s as good a place as any for him to begin, I believe. But what do you think of him by now?”
“Oh,” answered Gilbert very conservatively and decidedly independently — a trait for which his father had always admired him — “Not so much. He’s all right, I guess. He may work out. But he does not strike me as a fellow who would ever make much of a stir in this game. He hasn’t had much of an education of any kind, you know. Any one can see that. Besides, he’s not so very aggressive or energetic-looking. Too soft, I think. Still I don’t want to knock him. He may be all right. You like him and I may be wrong. But I can’t help but think that his real idea in coming here is that you’ll do more for him than you would for someone else, just because he is related to you.”
“Oh, you think he does. Well, if he does, he’s wrong.” But at the same time, he added, and that with a bantering smile: “He may not be as impractical as you think, though. He hasn’t been here long enough for us to really tell, has he? He didn’t strike me that way in Chicago. Besides there are a lot of little corners into which he might fit, aren’t there, without any great waste, even if he isn’t the most talented fellow in the world? If he’s content to take a small job in life, that’s his business. I can’t prevent that. But at any rate, I don’t want him sent away yet, anyhow, and I don’t want him put on piece work. It wouldn’t look right. After all, he is related to us. Just let him drift along for a little while and see what he does for himself.”
“All right, governor,” replied his son, who was hoping that his father would absent-mindedly let him stay where he was — in the lowest of all the positions the factory had to offer.
But, now, and to his dissatisfaction, Samuel Griffiths proceeded to add, “We’ll have to have him out to the house for dinner pretty soon, won’t we? I have thought of that but I haven’t been able to attend to it before. I should have spoken to Mother about it before this. He hasn’t been out yet, has he?”
“No, sir, not that I know of,” replied Gilbert dourly. He did not like this at all, but was too tactful to show his opposition just here. “We’ve been waiting for you to say something about it, I suppose.”
“Very well,” went on Samuel, “you’d better find out where he’s stopping and have him out. Next Sunday wouldn’t be a bad time, if we haven’t anything else on.” Noting a flicker of doubt or disapproval in his son’s eyes, he added: “After all, Gil, he’s my nephew and your cousin, and we can’t afford to ignore him entirely. That wouldn’t be right, you know, either. You’d better speak to your mother to-night, or I will, and arrange it.” He closed the drawer of a desk in which he had been looking for certain papers, got up and took down his hat and coat and left the office.
In consequence of this discussion, an invitation was sent to Clyde for the following Sunday at six-thirty to appear and participate in a Griffiths family meal. On Sunday at one-thirty was served the important family dinner to which usually was invited one or another of the various local or visiting friends of the family. At six- thirty nearly all of these guests had departed, and sometimes one or two of the Griffiths themselves, the cold collation served being partaken of by Mr. and Mrs. Griffiths and Myra — Bella and Gilbert usually having appointments elsewhere.
On this occasion, however, as Mrs. Griffiths and Myra and Bella decided in conference, they would all be present with the exception of Gilbert, who, because of his opposition as well as another appointment, explained that he would stop in for only a moment before leaving. Thus Clyde as Gilbert was pleased to note would be received and entertained without the likelihood of contacts, introductions and explanations to such of their more important connections who might chance to stop in during the afternoon. They would also have an opportunity to study him for themselves and see what they really did think without committing themselves in any way.
But in the meantime in connection with Dillard, Rita and Zella there had been a development which, because of the problem it had posed, was to be affected by this very decision on the part of the Griffiths. For following the evening at the Shuman home, and because, in spite of Clyde’s hesitation at the time, all three including Rita herself, were still convinced that he must or would be smitten with her charms, there had been various hints, as well as finally a direct invitation or proposition on the part of Dillard to the effect that because of the camaraderie which had been established between himself and Clyde and these two girls, they make a week-end trip somewhere — preferably to Utica or Albany. The girls would go, of course. He could fix that through Zella with Rita for Clyde if he had any doubts or fears as to whether it could be negotiated or not. “You know she likes you. Zell was telling me the other day that she said she thought you were the candy. Some ladies’ man, eh?” And he nudged Clyde genially and intimately — a proceeding in this newer and grander world in which he now found himself — and considering who he was here, was not as appealing to Clyde as it otherwise