Chapter XXXI

by Theodore Dreiser

　　A PET OF GOOD FORTUNE--BROADWAY FLAUNTS ITS JOYSThe effect of the city and his own situation on Hurstwood wasparalleled in the case of Carrie, who accepted the things whichfortune provided with the most genial good-nature. New York,despite her first expression of disapproval, soon interested herexceedingly. Its clear atmosphere, more populous thoroughfares,and peculiar indifference struck her forcibly. She had neverseen such a little flat as hers, and yet it soon enlisted heraffection. The new furniture made an excellent showing, thesideboard which Hurstwood himself arranged gleamed brightly. Thefurniture for each room was appropriate, and in the so-calledparlour, or front room, was installed a piano, because Carriesaid she would like to learn to play. She kept a servant anddeveloped rapidly in household tactics and information. For thefirst time in her life she felt settled, and somewhat justifiedin the eyes of society as she conceived of it. Her thoughts weremerry and innocent enough. For a long while she concernedherself over the arrangement of New York flats, and wondered atten families living in one building and all remaining strange andindifferent to each other. She also marvelled at the whistles ofthe hundreds of vessels in the harbour--the long, low cries ofthe Sound steamers and ferry-boats when fog was on. The merefact that these things spoke from the sea made them wonderful.She looked much at what she could see of the Hudson from her westwindows and of the great city building up rapidly on either hand.It was much to ponder over, and sufficed to entertain her formore than a year without becoming stale.For another thing, Hurstwood was exceedingly interesting in hisaffection for her. Troubled as he was, he never exposed hisdifficulties to her. He carried himself with the same self-important air, took his new state with easy familiarity, andrejoiced in Carrie's proclivities and successes. Each evening hearrived promptly to dinner, and found the little dining-room amost inviting spectacle. In a way, the smallness of the roomadded to its luxury. It looked full and replete. The white-covered table was arrayed with pretty dishes and lighted with afour-armed candelabra, each light of which was topped with a redshade. Between Carrie and the girl the steaks and chops came outall right, and canned goods did the rest for a while. Carriestudied the art of making biscuit, and soon reached the stagewhere she could show a plate of light, palatable morsels for herlabour.In this manner the second, third, and fourth months passed.Winter came, and with it a feeling that indoors was best, so thatthe attending of theatres was not much talked of. Hurstwood madegreat efforts to meet all expenditures without a show of feelingone way or the other. He pretended that he was reinvesting hismoney in strengthening the business for greater ends in thefuture. He contented himself with a very moderate allowance ofpersonal apparel, and rarely suggested anything for Carrie. Thusthe first winter passed.In the second year, the business which Hurstwood managed didincrease somewhat. He got out of it regularly the $150 per monthwhich he had anticipated. Unfortunately, by this time Carrie hadreached certain conclusions, and he had scraped up a fewacquaintances.Being of a passive and receptive rather than an active andaggressive nature, Carrie accepted the situation. Her stateseemed satisfactory enough. Once in a while they would go to atheatre together, occasionally in season to the beaches anddifferent points about the city, but they picked up noacquaintances. Hurstwood naturally abandoned his show of finemanners with her and modified his attitude to one of easyfamiliarity. There were no misunderstandings, no apparentdifferences of opinion. In fact, without money or visitingfriends, he led a life which could neither arouse jealousy norcomment. Carrie rather sympathised with his efforts and thoughtnothing upon her lack of entertainment such as she had enjoyed inChicago. New York as a corporate entity and her flat temporarilyseemed sufficient.However, as Hurstwood's business increased, he, as stated, beganto pick up acquaintances. He also began to allow himself moreclothes. He convinced himself that his home life was veryprecious to him, but allowed that he could occasionally stay awayfrom dinner. The first time he did this he sent a message sayingthat he would be detained. Carrie ate alone, and wished that itmight not happen again. The second time, also, he sent word, butat the last moment. The third time he forgot entirely andexplained afterwards. These events were months apart, each."Where were you, George?" asked Carrie, after the first absence."Tied up at the office," he said genially. "There were someaccounts I had to straighten.""I'm sorry you couldn't get home," she said kindly. "I wasfixing to have such a nice dinner."The second time he gave a similar excuse, but the third time thefeeling about it in Carrie's mind was a little bit out of theordinary."I couldn't get home," he said, when he came in later in theevening, "I was so busy.""Couldn't you have sent me word?" asked Carrie."I meant to," he said, "but you know I forgot it until it was toolate to do any good.""And I had such a good dinner!" said Carrie.Now, it so happened that from his observations of Carrie he beganto imagine that she was of the thoroughly domestic type of mind.He really thought, after a year, that her chief expression inlife was finding its natural channel in household duties.Notwithstanding the fact that he had observed her act in Chicago,and that during the past year he had only seen her limited in herrelations to her flat and him by conditions which he made, andthat she had not gained any friends or associates, he drew thispeculiar conclusion. With it came a feeling of satisfaction inhaving a wife who could thus be content, and this satisfactionworked its natural result. That is, since he imagined he saw hersatisfied, he felt called upon to give only that whichcontributed to such satisfaction. He supplied the furniture, thedecorations, the food, and the necessary clothing. Thoughts ofentertaining her, leading her out into the shine and show oflife, grew less and less. He felt attracted to the outer world,but did not think she would care to go along. Once he went tothe theatre alone. Another time he joined a couple of his newfriends at an evening game of poker. Since his money-featherswere beginning to grow again he felt like sprucing about. Allthis, however, in a much less imposing way than had been his wontin Chicago. He avoided the gay places where he would be apt tomeet those who had known him.Now, Carrie began to feel this in various sensory ways. She wasnot the kind to be seriously disturbed by his actions. Notloving him greatly, she could not be jealous in a disturbing way.In fact, she was not jealous at all. Hurstwood was pleased withher placid manner, when he should have duly considered it. Whenhe did not come home it did not seem anything like a terriblething to her. She gave him credit for having the usualallurements of men--people to talk to, places to stop, friends toconsult with. She was perfectly willing that he should enjoyhimself in his way, but she did not care to be neglected herself.Her state still seemed fairly reasonable, however. All she didobserve was that Hurstwood was somewhat different.Some time in the second year of their residence in Seventy-eighthStreet the flat across the hall from Carrie became vacant, andinto it moved a very handsome young woman and her husband, withboth of whom Carrie afterwards became acquainted. This wasbrought about solely by the arrangement of the flats, which wereunited in one place, as it were, by the dumb-waiter. This usefulelevator, by which fuel, groceries, and the like were sent upfrom the basement, and garbage and waste sent down, was used byboth residents of one floor; that is, a small door opened into itfrom each flat.If the occupants of both flats answered to the whistle of thejanitor at the same time, they would stand face to face when theyopened the dumb-waiter doors. One morning, when Carrie went toremove her paper, the newcomer, a handsome brunette of perhapstwenty-three years of age, was there for a like purpose. She wasin a night-robe and dressing-gown, with her hair very muchtousled, but she looked so pretty and good-natured that Carrieinstantly conceived a liking for her. The newcomer did no morethan smile shamefacedly, but it was sufficient. Carrie felt thatshe would like to know her, and a similar feeling stirred in themind of the other, who admired Carrie's innocent face."That's a real pretty woman who has moved in next door," saidCarrie to Hurstwood at the breakfast table."Who are they?" asked Hurstwood."I don't know," said Carrie. "The name on the bell is Vance.Some one over there plays beautifully. I guess it must be she.""Well, you never can tell what sort of people you're living nextto in this town, can you?" said Hurstwood, expressing thecustomary New York opinion about neighbours."Just think," said Carrie, "I have been in this house with nineother families for over a year and I don't know a soul. Thesepeople have been here over a month and I haven't seen any onebefore this morning.""It's just as well," said Hurstwood. 'You never know who you'regoing to get in with. Some of these people are pretty badcompany.""I expect so," said Carrie, agreeably.The conversation turned to other things, and Carrie thought nomore upon the subject until a day or two later, when, going outto market, she encountered Mrs. Vance coming in. The latterrecognised her and nodded, for which Carrie returned a smile.This settled the probability of acquaintanceship. If there hadbeen no faint recognition on this occasion, there would have beenno future association.Carrie saw no more of Mrs. Vance for several weeks, but she heardher play through the thin walls which divided the front rooms ofthe flats, and was pleased by the merry selection of pieces andthe brilliance of their rendition. She could play onlymoderately herself, and such variety as Mrs. Vance exercisedbordered, for Carrie, upon the verge of great art. Everythingshe had seen and heard thus far--the merest scraps and shadows--indicated that these people were, in a measure, refined and incomfortable circumstances. So Carrie was ready for any extensionof the friendship which might follow.One day Carrie's bell rang and the servant, who was in thekitchen, pressed the button which caused the front door of thegeneral entrance on the ground floor to be electricallyunlatched. When Carrie waited at her own door on the third floorto see who it might be coming up to call on her, Mrs. Vanceappeared."I hope you'll excuse me," she said. "I went out a while ago andforgot my outside key, so I thought I'd ring your bell."This was a common trick of other residents of the building,whenever they had forgotten their outside keys. They did notapologise for it, however."Certainly," said Carrie. "I'm glad you did. I do the samething sometimes.""Isn't it just delightful weather?" said Mrs. Vance, pausing fora moment.Thus, after a few more preliminaries, this visiting acquaintancewas well launched, and in the young Mrs. Vance Carrie found anagreeable companion.On several occasions Carrie visited her and was visited. Bothflats were good to look upon, though that of the Vances tendedsomewhat more to the luxurious."I want you to come over this evening and meet my husband," saidMrs. Vance, not long after their intimacy began. "He wants tomeet you. You play cards, don't you?""A little," said Carrie."Well, we'll have a game of cards. If your husband comes homebring him over.""He's not coming to dinner to-night," said Carrie."Well, when he does come we'll call him in."Carrie acquiesced, and that evening met the portly Vance, anindividual a few years younger than Hurstwood, and who owed hisseemingly comfortable matrimonial state much more to his moneythan to his good looks. He thought well of Carrie upon the firstglance and laid himself out to be genial, teaching her a new gameof cards and talking to her about New York and its pleasures.Mrs. Vance played some upon the piano, and at last Hurstwoodcame."I am very glad to meet you," he said to Mrs. Vance when Carrieintroduced him, showing much of the old grace which hadcaptivated Carrie."Did you think your wife had run away?" said Mr. Vance, extendinghis hand upon introduction."I didn't know but what she might have found a better husband,"said Hurstwood.He now turned his attention to Mrs. Vance, and in a flash Carriesaw again what she for some time had subconsciously missed inHurstwood--the adroitness and flattery of which he was capable.She also saw that she was not well dressed--not nearly as welldressed--as Mrs. Vance. These were not vague ideas any longer.Her situation was cleared up for her. She felt that her life wasbecoming stale, and therein she felt cause for gloom. The oldhelpful, urging melancholy was restored. The desirous Carrie waswhispered to concerning her possibilities.There were no immediate results to this awakening, for Carrie hadlittle power of initiative; but, nevertheless, she seemed evercapable of getting herself into the tide of change where shewould be easily borne along. Hurstwood noticed nothing. He hadbeen unconscious of the marked contrasts which Carrie hadobserved.He did not even detect the shade of melancholy which settled inher eyes. Worst of all, she now began to feel the loneliness ofthe flat and seek the company of Mrs. Vance, who liked herexceedingly."Let's go to the matinee this afternoon," said Mrs. Vance, whohad stepped across into Carrie's flat one morning, still arrayedin a soft pink dressing-gown, which she had donned upon rising.Hurstwood and Vance had gone their separate ways nearly an hourbefore."All right," said Carrie, noticing the air of the petted andwell-groomed woman in Mrs. Vance's general appearance. Shelooked as though she was dearly loved and her every wishgratified. "What shall we see?""Oh, I do want to see Nat Goodwin," said Mrs. Vance. "I do thinkhe is the jolliest actor. The papers say this is such a goodplay.""What time will we have to start?" asked Carrie."Let's go at once and walk down Broadway from Thirty-fourthStreet," said Mrs. Vance. "It's such an interesting walk. He'sat the Madison Square.""I'll be glad to go," said Carrie. "How much will we have to payfor seats?""Not more than a dollar," said Mrs. Vance.The latter departed, and at one o'clock reappeared, stunninglyarrayed in a dark-blue walking dress, with a nobby hat to match.Carrie had gotten herself up charmingly enough, but this womanpained her by contrast. She seemed to have so many dainty littlethings which Carrie had not. There were trinkets of gold, anelegant green leather purse set with her initials, a fancyhandkerchief, exceedingly rich in design, and the like. Carriefelt that she needed more and better clothes to compare with thiswoman, and that any one looking at the two would pick Mrs. Vancefor her raiment alone. It was a trying, though rather unjustthought, for Carrie had now developed an equally pleasing figure,and had grown in comeliness until she was a thoroughly attractivetype of her colour of beauty. There was some difference in theclothing of the two, both of quality and age, but this differencewas not especially noticeable. It served, however, to augmentCarrie's dissatisfaction with her state.The walk down Broadway, then as now, was one of the remarkablefeatures of the city. There gathered, before the matinee andafterwards, not only all the pretty women who love a showyparade, but the men who love to gaze upon and admire them. Itwas a very imposing procession of pretty faces and fine clothes.Women appeared in their very best hats, shoes, and gloves, andwalked arm in arm on their way to the fine shops or theatresstrung along from Fourteenth to Thirty-fourth Streets. Equallythe men paraded with the very latest they could afford. A tailormight have secured hints on suit measurements, a shoemaker onproper lasts and colours, a hatter on hats. It was literallytrue that if a lover of fine clothes secured a new suit, it wassure to have its first airing on Broadway. So true and wellunderstood was this fact, that several years later a popularsong, detailing this and other facts concerning the afternoonparade on matinee days, and entitled "What Right Has He onBroadway?" was published, and had quite a vogue about the music-halls of the city.In all her stay in the city, Carrie had never heard of this showyparade; had never even been on Broadway when it was taking place.On the other hand, it was a familiar thing to Mrs. Vance, who notonly knew of it as an entity, but had often been in it, goingpurposely to see and be seen, to create a stir with her beautyand dispel any tendency to fall short in dressiness bycontrasting herself with the beauty and fashion of the town.Carrie stepped along easily enough after they got out of the carat Thirty-fourth Street, but soon fixed her eyes upon the lovelycompany which swarmed by and with them as they proceeded. Shenoticed suddenly that Mrs. Vance's manner had rather stiffenedunder the gaze of handsome men and elegantly dressed ladies,whose glances were not modified by any rules of propriety. Tostare seemed the proper and natural thing. Carrie found herselfstared at and ogled. Men in flawless top-coats, high hats, andsilver-headed walking sticks elbowed near and looked too ofteninto conscious eyes. Ladies rustled by in dresses of stiffcloth, shedding affected smiles and perfume. Carrie noticedamong them the sprinkling of goodness and the heavy percentage ofvice. The rouged and powdered cheeks and lips, the scented hair,the large, misty, and languorous eye, were common enough. With astart she awoke to find that she was in fashion's crowd, onparade in a show place--and such a show place! Jewellers' windowsgleamed along the path with remarkable frequency. Florist shops,furriers, haberdashers, confectioners--all followed in rapidsuccession. The street was full of coaches. Pompous doormen inimmense coats, shiny brass belts and buttons, waited in front ofexpensive salesrooms. Coachmen in tan boots, white tights, andblue jackets waited obsequiously for the mistresses of carriageswho were shopping inside. The whole street bore the flavour ofriches and show, and Carrie felt that she was not of it. Shecould not, for the life of her, assume the attitude and smartnessof Mrs. Vance, who, in her beauty, was all assurance. She couldonly imagine that it must be evident to many that she was theless handsomely dressed of the two. It cut her to the quick, andshe resolved that she would not come here again until she lookedbetter. At the same time she longed to feel the delight ofparading here as an equal. Ah, then she would be happy!