Chapter VI

by Theodore Dreiser

　　THE MACHINE AND THE MAIDEN--A KNIGHT OF TO-DAYAt the flat that evening Carrie felt a new phase of itsatmosphere. The fact that it was unchanged, while her feelingswere different, increased her knowledge of its character.Minnie, after the good spirits Carrie manifested at first,expected a fair report. Hanson supposed that Carrie would besatisfied."Well," he said, as he came in from the hall in his workingclothes, and looked at Carrie through the dining-room door, "howdid you make out?""Oh," said Carrie, "it's pretty hard. I don't like it."There was an air about her which showed plainer than any wordsthat she was both weary and disappointed."What sort of work is it?" he asked, lingering a moment as heturned upon his heel to go into the bathroom."Running a machine," answered Carrie.It was very evident that it did not concern him much, save fromthe side of the flat's success. He was irritated a shade becauseit could not have come about in the throw of fortune for Carrieto be pleased.Minnie worked with less elation than she had just before Carriearrived. The sizzle of the meat frying did not sound quite sopleasing now that Carrie had reported her discontent. To Carrie,the one relief of the whole day would have been a jolly home, asympathetic reception, a bright supper table, and some one tosay: "Oh, well, stand it a little while. You will get somethingbetter," but now this was ashes. She began to see that theylooked upon her complaint as unwarranted, and that she wassupposed to work on and say nothing. She knew that she was topay four dollars for her board and room, and now she felt that itwould be an exceedingly gloomy round, living with these people.Minnie was no companion for her sister--she was too old. Herthoughts were staid and solemnly adapted to a condition. IfHanson had any pleasant thoughts or happy feelings he concealedthem. He seemed to do all his mental operations without the aidof physical expression. He was as still as a deserted chamber.Carrie, on the other hand, had the blood of youth and someimagination. Her day of love and the mysteries of courtship werestill ahead. She could think of things she would like to do, ofclothes she would like to wear, and of places she would like tovisit. These were the things upon which her mind ran, and it waslike meeting with opposition at every turn to find no one here tocall forth or respond to her feelings.She had forgotten, in considering and explaining the result ofher day, that Drouet might come. Now, when she saw howunreceptive these two people were, she hoped he would not. Shedid not know exactly what she would do or how she would explainto Drouet, if he came. After supper she changed her clothes.When she was trimly dressed she was rather a sweet little being,with large eyes and a sad mouth. Her face expressed the mingledexpectancy, dissatisfaction, and depression she felt. Shewandered about after the dishes were put away, talked a littlewith Minnie, and then decided to go down and stand in the door atthe foot of the stairs. If Drouet came, she could meet him there.Her face took on the semblance of a look of happiness as she puton her hat to go below."Carrie doesn't seem to like her place very well," said Minnie toher husband when the latter came out, paper in hand, to sit inthe dining-room a few minutes."She ought to keep it for a time, anyhow," said Hanson. "Has shegone downstairs?""Yes," said Minnie."I'd tell her to keep it if I were you. She might be here weekswithout getting another one."Minnie said she would, and Hanson read his paper."If I were you," he said a little later, "I wouldn't let herstand in the door down there. It don't look good.""I'll tell her," said Minnie.The life of the streets continued for a long time to interestCarrie. She never wearied of wondering where the people in thecars were going or what their enjoyments were. Her imaginationtrod a very narrow round, always winding up at points whichconcerned money, looks, clothes, or enjoyment. She would have afar-off thought of Columbia City now and then, or an irritatingrush of feeling concerning her experiences of the present day,but, on the whole, the little world about her enlisted her wholeattention.The first floor of the building, of which Hanson's flat was thethird, was occupied by a bakery, and to this, while she wasstanding there, Hanson came down to buy a loaf of bread. She wasnot aware of his presence until he was quite near her."I'm after bread," was all he said as he passed.The contagion of thought here demonstrated itself. While Hansonreally came for bread, the thought dwelt with him that now hewould see what Carrie was doing. No sooner did he draw near herwith that in mind than she felt it. Of course, she had nounderstanding of what put it into her head, but, nevertheless, itaroused in her the first shade of real antipathy to him. Sheknew now that she did not like him. He was suspicious.A thought will colour a world for us. The flow of Carrie'smeditations had been disturbed, and Hanson had not long goneupstairs before she followed. She had realised with the lapse ofthe quarter hours that Drouet was not coming, and somehow shefelt a little resentful, a little as if she had been forsaken--was not good enough. She went upstairs, where everything wassilent. Minnie was sewing by a lamp at the table. Hanson hadalready turned in for the night. In her weariness anddisappointment Carrie did no more than announce that she wasgoing to bed."Yes, you'd better," returned Minnie. "You've got to get upearly, you know."The morning was no better. Hanson was just going out the door asCarrie came from her room. Minnie tried to talk with her duringbreakfast, but there was not much of interest which they couldmutually discuss. As on the previous morning, Carrie walked downtown, for she began to realise now that her four-fifty would noteven allow her car fare after she paid her board. This seemed amiserable arrangement. But the morning light swept away thefirst misgivings of the day, as morning light is ever wont to do.At the shoe factory she put in a long day, scarcely so wearisomeas the preceding, but considerably less novel. The head foreman,on his round, stopped by her machine."Where did you come from?" he inquired."Mr. Brown hired me," she replied."Oh, he did, eh!" and then, "See that you keep things going."The machine girls impressed her even less favourably. They seemedsatisfied with their lot, and were in a sense "common." Carriehad more imagination than they. She was not used to slang. Herinstinct in the matter of dress was naturally better. Shedisliked to listen to the girl next to her, who was ratherhardened by experience."I'm going to quit this," she heard her remark to her neighbour."What with the stipend and being up late, it's too much for mehealth."They were free with the fellows, young and old, about the place,and exchanged banter in rude phrases, which at first shocked her.She saw that she was taken to be of the same sort and addressedaccordingly."Hello," remarked one of the stout-wristed sole-workers to her atnoon. "You're a daisy." He really expected to hear the common"Aw! go chase yourself!" in return, and was sufficiently abashed,by Carrie's silently moving away, to retreat, awkwardly grinning.That night at the flat she was even more lonely--the dullsituation was becoming harder to endure. She could see that theHansons seldom or never had any company. Standing at the streetdoor looking out, she ventured to walk out a little way. Hereasy gait and idle manner attracted attention of an offensive butcommon sort. She was slightly taken back at the overtures of awell-dressed man of thirty, who in passing looked at her, reducedhis pace, turned back, and said:"Out for a little stroll, are you, this evening?"Carrie looked at him in amazement, and then summoned sufficientthought to reply: "Why, I don't know you," backing away as shedid so."Oh, that don't matter," said the other affably.She bandied no more words with him, but hurried away, reachingher own door quite out of breath. There was something in theman's look which frightened her.During the remainder of the week it was very much the same. Oneor two nights she found herself too tired to walk home, andexpended car fare. She was not very strong, and sitting all dayaffected her back. She went to bed one night before Hanson.Transplantation is not always successful in the matter of flowersor maidens. It requires sometimes a richer soil, a betteratmosphere to continue even a natural growth. It would have beenbetter if her acclimatization had been more gradual--less rigid.She would have done better if she had not secured a position soquickly, and had seen more of the city which she constantlytroubled to know about.On the first morning it rained she found that she had noumbrella. Minnie loaned her one of hers, which was worn andfaded. There was the kind of vanity in Carrie that troubled atthis. She went to one of the great department stores and boughtherself one, using a dollar and a quarter of her small store topay for it."What did you do that for, Carrie?" asked Minnie when she saw it."Oh, I need one," said Carrie."You foolish girl."Carrie resented this, though she did not reply. She was notgoing to be a common shop-girl, she thought; they need not thinkit, either.On the first Saturday night Carrie paid her board, four dollars.Minnie had a quaver of conscience as she took it, but did notknow how to explain to Hanson if she took less. That worthy gaveup just four dollars less toward the household expenses with asmile of satisfaction. He contemplated increasing his Buildingand Loan payments. As for Carrie, she studied over the problemof finding clothes and amusement on fifty cents a week. Shebrooded over this until she was in a state of mental rebellion."I'm going up the street for a walk," she said after supper."Not alone, are you?" asked Hanson."Yes," returned Carrie."I wouldn't," said Minnie."I want to see SOMETHING," said Carrie, and by the tone she putinto the last word they realised for the first time she was notpleased with them."What's the matter with her?" asked Hanson, when she went intothe front room to get her hat."I don't know," said Minnie."Well, she ought to know better than to want to go out alone."Carrie did not go very far, after all. She returned and stood inthe door. The next day they went out to Garfield Park, but itdid not please her. She did not look well enough. In the shopnext day she heard the highly coloured reports which girls giveof their trivial amusements. They had been happy. On severaldays it rained and she used up car fare. One night she gotthoroughly soaked, going to catch the car at Van Buren Street.All that evening she sat alone in the front room looking out uponthe street, where the lights were reflected on the wet pavements,thinking. She had imagination enough to be moody.On Saturday she paid another four dollars and pocketed her fiftycents in despair. The speaking acquaintanceship which she formedwith some of the girls at the shop discovered to her the factthat they had more of their earnings to use for themselves thanshe did. They had young men of the kind whom she, since herexperience with Drouet, felt above, who took them about. Shecame to thoroughly dislike the light-headed young fellows of theshop. Not one of them had a show of refinement. She saw onlytheir workday side.There came a day when the first premonitory blast of winter sweptover the city. It scudded the fleecy clouds in the heavens,trailed long, thin streamers of smoke from the tall stacks, andraced about the streets and corners in sharp and sudden puffs.Carrie now felt the problem of winter clothes. What was she todo? She had no winter jacket, no hat, no shoes. It was difficultto speak to Minnie about this, but at last she summoned thecourage."I don't know what I'm going to do about clothes," she said oneevening when they were together. "I need a hat."Minnie looked serious."Why don't you keep part of your money and buy yourself one?" shesuggested, worried over the situation which the withholding ofCarrie's money would create."I'd like to for a week or so, if you don't mind," venturedCarrie."Could you pay two dollars?" asked Minnie.Carrie readily acquiesced, glad to escape the trying situation,and liberal now that she saw a way out. She was elated and beganfiguring at once. She needed a hat first of all. How Minnieexplained to Hanson she never knew. He said nothing at all, butthere were thoughts in the air which left disagreeableimpressions.The new arrangement might have worked if sickness had notintervened. It blew up cold after a rain one afternoon whenCarrie was still without a jacket. She came out of the warm shopat six and shivered as the wind struck her. In the morning shewas sneezing, and going down town made it worse. That day herbones ached and she felt light-headed. Towards evening she feltvery ill, and when she reached home was not hungry. Minnienoticed her drooping actions and asked her about herself."I don't know," said Carrie. "I feel real bad."She hung about the stove, suffered a chattering chill, and wentto bed sick. The next morning she was thoroughly feverish.Minnie was truly distressed at this, but maintained a kindlydemeanour. Hanson said perhaps she had better go back home for awhile. When she got up after three days, it was taken forgranted that her position was lost. The winter was near at hand,she had no clothes, and now she was out of work."I don't know," said Carrie; "I'll go down Monday and see if Ican't get something."If anything, her efforts were more poorly rewarded on this trialthan the last. Her clothes were nothing suitable for fallwearing. Her last money she had spent for a hat. For three daysshe wandered about, utterly dispirited. The attitude of the flatwas fast becoming unbearable. She hated to think of going backthere each evening. Hanson was so cold. She knew it could notlast much longer. Shortly she would have to give up and go home.On the fourth day she was down town all day, having borrowed tencents for lunch from Minnie. She had applied in the cheapestkind of places without success. She even answered for a waitressin a small restaurant where she saw a card in the window, butthey wanted an experienced girl. She moved through the thickthrong of strangers, utterly subdued in spirit. Suddenly a handpulled her arm and turned her about."Well, well!" said a voice. In the first glance she beheldDrouet. He was not only rosy-cheeked, but radiant. He was theessence of sunshine and good-humour. "Why, how are you, Carrie?"he said. "You're a daisy. Where have you been?"Carrie smiled under his irresistible flood of geniality."I've been out home," she said."Well," he said, "I saw you across the street there. I thought itwas you. I was just coming out to your place. How are you,anyhow?""I'm all right," said Carrie, smiling.Drouet looked her over and saw something different."Well," he said, "I want to talk to you. You're not goinganywhere in particular, are you?""Not just now," said Carrie."Let's go up here and have something to eat. George! but I'mglad to see you again."She felt so relieved in his radiant presence, so much lookedafter and cared for, that she assented gladly, though with theslightest air of holding back."Well," he said, as he took her arm--and there was an exuberanceof good-fellowship in the word which fairly warmed the cockles ofher heart.They went through Monroe Street to the old Windsor dining-room,which was then a large, comfortable place, with an excellentcuisine and substantial service. Drouet selected a table close bythe window, where the busy rout of the street could be seen. Heloved the changing panorama of the street--to see and be seen ashe dined."Now," he said, getting Carrie and himself comfortably settled,"what will you have?"Carrie looked over the large bill of fare which the waiter handedher without really considering it. She was very hungry, and thethings she saw there awakened her desires, but the high pricesheld her attention. "Half broiled spring chicken--seventy-five.Sirloin steak with mushrooms--one twenty-five." She had dimlyheard of these things, but it seemed strange to be called toorder from the list."I'll fix this," exclaimed Drouet. "Sst! waiter."That officer of the board, a full-chested, round-faced negro,approached, and inclined his ear."Sirloin with mushrooms," said Drouet. "Stuffed tomatoes.""Yassah," assented the negro, nodding his head."Hashed brown potatoes.""Yassah.""Asparagus.""Yassah.""And a pot of coffee."Drouet turned to Carrie. "I haven't had a thing since breakfast.Just got in from Rock Island. I was going off to dine when I sawyou."Carrie smiled and smiled."What have you been doing?" he went on. "Tell me all aboutyourself. How is your sister?""She's well," returned Carrie, answering the last query.He looked at her hard."Say," he said, "you haven't been sick, have you?"Carrie nodded."Well, now, that's a blooming shame, isn't it? You don't lookvery well. I thought you looked a little pale. What have youbeen doing?""Working," said Carrie."You don't say so! At what?"She told him."Rhodes, Morgenthau and Scott--why, I know that house. over hereon Fifth Avenue, isn't it? They're a close-fisted concern. Whatmade you go there?""I couldn't get anything else," said Carrie frankly."Well, that's an outrage," said Drouet. "You oughtn't to beworking for those people. Have the factory right back of thestore, don't they?""Yes," said Carrie."That isn't a good house," said Drouet. "You don't want to workat anything like that, anyhow."He chatted on at a great rate, asking questions, explainingthings about himself, telling her what a good restaurant it was,until the waiter returned with an immense tray, bearing the hotsavoury dishes which had been ordered. Drouet fairly shone inthe matter of serving. He appeared to great advantage behind thewhite napery and silver platters of the table and displaying hisarms with a knife and fork. As he cut the meat his rings almostspoke. His new suit creaked as he stretched to reach the plates,break the bread, and pour the coffee. He helped Carrie to arousing plateful and contributed the warmth of his spirit to herbody until she was a new girl. He was a splendid fellow in thetrue popular understanding of the term, and captivated Carriecompletely.That little soldier of fortune took her good turn in an easy way.She felt a little out of place, but the great room soothed herand the view of the well-dressed throng outside seemed a splendidthing. Ah, what was it not to have money! What a thing it wasto be able to come in here and dine! Drouet must be fortunate.He rode on trains, dressed in such nice clothes, was so strong,and ate in these fine places. He seemed quite a figure of a man,and she wondered at his friendship and regard for her."So you lost your place because you got sick, eh?" he said."What are you going to do now?""Look around," she said, a thought of the need that hung outsidethis fine restaurant like a hungry dog at her heels passing intoher eyes."Oh, no," said Drouet, "that won't do. How long have you beenlooking?""Four days," she answered."Think of that!" he said, addressing some problematicalindividual. "You oughtn't to be doing anything like that. Thesegirls," and he waved an inclusion of all shop and factory girls,"don't get anything. Why, you can't live on it, can you?"He was a brotherly sort of creature in his demeanour. When he hadscouted the idea of that kind of toil, he took another tack.Carrie was really very pretty. Even then, in her commonplacegarb, her figure was evidently not bad, and her eyes were largeand gentle. Drouet looked at her and his thoughts reached home.She felt his admiration. It was powerfully backed by hisliberality and good-humour. She felt that she liked him--thatshe could continue to like him ever so much. There was somethingeven richer than that, running as a hidden strain, in her mind.Every little while her eyes would meet his, and by that means theinterchanging current of feeling would be fully connected."Why don't you stay down town and go to the theatre with me?" hesaid, hitching his chair closer. The table was not very wide."Oh, I can't," she said."What are you going to do to-night?""Nothing," she answered, a little drearily."You don't like out there where you are, do you?""Oh, I don't know.""What are you going to do if you don't get work?""Go back home, I guess."There was the least quaver in her voice as she said this.Somehow, the influence he was exerting was powerful. They cameto an understanding of each other without words--he of hersituation, she of the fact that he realised it."No," he said, "you can't make it!" genuine sympathy filling hismind for the time. "Let me help you. You take some of mymoney.""Oh, no!" she said, leaning back."What are you going to do?" he said.She sat meditating, merely shaking her head.He looked at her quite tenderly for his kind. There were someloose bills in his vest pocket--greenbacks. They were soft andnoiseless, and he got his fingers about them and crumpled them upin his hand."Come on," he said, "I'll see you through all right. Get yourselfsome clothes."It was the first reference he had made to that subject, and nowshe realised how bad off she was. In his crude way he had struckthe key-note. Her lips trembled a little.She had her hand out on the table before her. They were quitealone in their corner, and he put his larger, warmer hand overit."Aw, come, Carrie," he said, "what can you do alone? Let me helpyou."He pressed her hand gently and she tried to withdraw it. At thishe held it fast, and she no longer protested. Then he slippedthe greenbacks he had into her palm, and when she began toprotest, he whispered:"I'll loan it to you--that's all right. I'll loan it to you."He made her take it. She felt bound to him by a strange tie ofaffection now. They went out, and he walked with her far outsouth toward Polk Street, talking."You don't want to live with those people?" he said in one place,abstractedly. Carrie heard it, but it made only a slightimpression."Come down and meet me to morrow," he said, "and we'll go to thematinee. Will you?"Carrie protested a while, but acquiesced."You're not doing anything. Get yourself a nice pair of shoesand a jacket."She scarcely gave a thought to the complication which wouldtrouble her when he was gone. In his presence, she was of hisown hopeful, easy-way-out mood."Don't you bother about those people out there," he said atparting. "I'll help you."Carrie left him, feeling as though a great arm had slipped outbefore her to draw off trouble. The money she had accepted wastwo soft, green, handsome ten-dollar bills.