Chapter XXXVIII

by Theodore Dreiser

　　IN ELF LAND DISPORTING--THE GRIM WORLD WITHOUTWhen Carrie renewed her search, as she did the next day, going tothe Casino, she found that in the opera chorus, as in otherfields, employment is difficult to secure. Girls who can standin a line and look pretty are as numerous as labourers who canswing a pick. She found there was no discrimination between oneand the other of applicants, save as regards a conventionalstandard of prettiness and form. Their own opinion or knowledgeof their ability went for nothing."Where shall I find Mr. Gray?" she asked of a sulky doorman atthe stage entrance of the Casino."You can't see him now; he's busy.""Do you know when I can see him?""Got an appointment with him?""No.""Well, you'll have to call at his office.""Oh, dear!" exclaimed Carrie. "Where is his office?"He gave her the number.She knew there was no need of calling there now. He would not bein. Nothing remained but to employ the intermediate hours insearch.The dismal story of ventures in other places is quickly told.Mr. Daly saw no one save by appointment. Carrie waited an hourin a dingy office, quite in spite of obstacles, to learn thisfact of the placid, indifferent Mr. Dorney."You will have to write and ask him to see you."So she went away.At the Empire Theatre she found a hive of peculiarly listless andindifferent individuals. Everything ornately upholstered,everything carefully finished, everything remarkably reserved.At the Lyceum she entered one of those secluded, under-stairwayclosets, berugged and bepaneled, which causes one to feel thegreatness of all positions of authority. Here was reserve itselfdone into a box-office clerk, a doorman, and an assistant,glorying in their fine positions."Ah, be very humble now--very humble indeed. Tell us what it isyou require. Tell it quickly, nervously, and without a vestigeof self-respect. If no trouble to us in any way, we may see whatwe can do."This was the atmosphere of the Lyceum--the attitude, for thatmatter, of every managerial office in the city. These littleproprietors of businesses are lords indeed on their own ground.Carrie came away wearily, somewhat more abashed for her pains.Hurstwood heard the details of the weary and unavailing searchthat evening."I didn't get to see any one," said Carrie. "I just walked, andwalked, and waited around."Hurstwood only looked at her."I suppose you have to have some friends before you can get in,"she added, disconsolately.Hurstwood saw the difficulty of this thing, and yet it did notseem so terrible. Carrie was tired and dispirited, but now shecould rest. Viewing the world from his rocking-chair, itsbitterness did not seem to approach so rapidly. To-morrow wasanother day.To-morrow came, and the next, and the next.Carrie saw the manager at the Casino once."Come around," he said, "the first of next week. I may make somechanges then."He was a large and corpulent individual, surfeited with goodclothes and good eating, who judged women as another wouldhorseflesh. Carrie was pretty and graceful. She might be put ineven if she did not have any experience. One of the proprietorshad suggested that the chorus was a little weak on looks.The first of next week was some days off yet. The first of themonth was drawing near. Carrie began to worry as she had neverworried before."Do you really look for anything when you go out?" she askedHurstwood one morning as a climax to some painful thoughts of herown."Of course I do," he said pettishly, troubling only a little overthe disgrace of the insinuation."I'd take anything," she said, "for the present. It will soon bethe first of the month again."She looked the picture of despair.Hurstwood quit reading his paper and changed his clothes."He would look for something," he thought. "He would go and seeif some brewery couldn't get him in somewhere. Yes, he wouldtake a position as bartender, if he could get it."It was the same sort of pilgrimage he had made before. One ortwo slight rebuffs, and the bravado disappeared."No use," he thought. "I might as well go on back home."Now that his money was so low, he began to observe his clothesand feel that even his best ones were beginning to lookcommonplace. This was a bitter thought.Carrie came in after he did."I went to see some of the variety managers," she said,aimlessly. "You have to have an act. They don't want anybodythat hasn't.""I saw some of the brewery people to-day," said Hurstwood. "Oneman told me he'd try to make a place for me in two or threeweeks."In the face of so much distress on Carrie's part, he had to makesome showing, and it was thus he did so. It was lassitude'sapology to energy.Monday Carrie went again to the Casino."Did I tell you to come around to day?" said the manager, lookingher over as she stood before him."You said the first of the week," said Carrie, greatly abashed."Ever had any experience?" he asked again, almost severely.Carrie owned to ignorance.He looked her over again as he stirred among some papers. He wassecretly pleased with this pretty, disturbed-looking young woman."Come around to the theatre to-morrow morning."Carrie's heart bounded to her throat."I will," she said with difficulty. She could see he wanted her,and turned to go."Would he really put her to work? Oh, blessed fortune, could itbe?"Already the hard rumble of the city through the open windowsbecame pleasant.A sharp voice answered her mental interrogation, driving away allimmediate fears on that score."Be sure you're there promptly," the manager said roughly."You'll be dropped if you're not."Carrie hastened away. She did not quarrel now with Hurstwood'sidleness. She had a place--she had a place! This sang in herears.In her delight she was almost anxious to tell Hurstwood. But, asshe walked homeward, and her survey of the facts of the casebecame larger, she began to think of the anomaly of her findingwork in several weeks and his lounging in idleness for a numberof months."Why don't he get something?" she openly said to herself. "If Ican he surely ought to. It wasn't very hard for me."She forgot her youth and her beauty. The handicap of age she didnot, in her enthusiasm, perceive.Thus, ever, the voice of success.Still, she could not keep her secret. She tried to be calm andindifferent, but it was a palpable sham."Well?" he said, seeing her relieved face."I have a place.""You have?" he said, breathing a better breath."Yes.""What sort of a place is it?" he asked, feeling in his veins asif now he might get something good also."In the chorus," she answered."Is it the Casino show you told me about?""Yes," she answered. "I begin rehearsing to-morrow."There was more explanation volunteered by Carrie, because she washappy. At last Hurstwood said:"Do you know how much you'll get?""No, I didn't want to ask," said Carrie. "I guess they paytwelve or fourteen dollars a week.""About that, I guess," said Hurstwood.There was a good dinner in the flat that evening, owing to themere lifting of the terrible strain. Hurstwood went out for ashave, and returned with a fair-sized sirloin steak."Now, to-morrow," he thought, "I'll look around myself," and withrenewed hope he lifted his eyes from the ground.On the morrow Carrie reported promptly and was given a place inthe line. She saw a large, empty, shadowy play-house, stillredolent of the perfumes and blazonry of the night, and notablefor its rich, oriental appearance. The wonder of it awed anddelighted her. Blessed be its wondrous reality. How hard shewould try to be worthy of it. It was above the common mass,above idleness, above want, above insignificance. People came toit in finery and carriages to see. It was ever a centre of lightand mirth. And here she was of it. Oh, if she could onlyremain, how happy would be her days!"What is your name?" said the manager, who was conducting thedrill."Madenda," she replied, instantly mindful of the name Drouet hadselected in Chicago. "Carrie Madenda.""Well, now, Miss Madenda," he said, very affably, as Carriethought, "you go over there."Then he called to a young woman who was already of the company:"Miss Clark, you pair with Miss Madenda."This young lady stepped forward, so that Carrie saw where to go,and the rehearsal began.Carrie soon found that while this drilling had some slightresemblance to the rehearsals as conducted at Avery Hall, theattitude of the manager was much more pronounced. She hadmarvelled at the insistence and superior airs of Mr. Millice, butthe individual conducting here had the same insistence, coupledwith almost brutal roughness. As the drilling proceeded, heseemed to wax exceedingly wroth over trifles, and to increase hislung power in proportion. It was very evident that he had agreat contempt for any assumption of dignity or innocence on thepart of these young women."Clark," he would call--meaning, of course, Miss Clark--"whydon't you catch step there?""By fours, right! Right, I said, right! For heaven's sake, get onto yourself! Right!" and in saying this he would lift the lastsounds into a vehement roar."Maitland! Maitland!" he called once.A nervous, comely-dressed little girl stepped out. Carrietrembled for her out of the fulness of her own sympathies andfear."Yes, sir," said Miss Maitland."Is there anything the matter with your ears?""No, sir.""Do you know what 'column left' means?""Yes, sir.""Well, what are you stumbling around the right for? Want to breakup the line?""I was just""Never mind what you were just. Keep your ears open."Carrie pitied, and trembled for her turn.Yet another suffered the pain of personal rebuke."Hold on a minute," cried the manager, throwing up his hands, asif in despair. His demeanour was fierce."Elvers," he shouted, "what have you got in your mouth?""Nothing," said Miss Elvers, while some smiled and stoodnervously by."Well, are you talking?""No, sir.""Well, keep your mouth still then. Now, all together again."At last Carrie's turn came. It was because of her extremeanxiety to do all that was required that brought on the trouble.She heard some one called."Mason," said the voice. "Miss Mason."She looked around to see who it could be. A girl behind shovedher a little, but she did not understand."You, you!" said the manager. "Can't you hear?""Oh," said Carrie, collapsing, and blushing fiercely."Isn't your name Mason?" asked the manager."No, sir," said Carrie, "it's Madenda.""Well, what's the matter with your feet? Can't you dance?""Yes, sir," said Carrie, who had long since learned this art."Why don't you do it then? Don't go shuffling along as if youwere dead. I've got to have people with life in them."Carrie's cheek burned with a crimson heat. Her lips trembled alittle."Yes, sir," she said.It was this constant urging, coupled with irascibility andenergy, for three long hours. Carrie came away worn enough inbody, but too excited in mind to notice it. She meant to go homeand practise her evolutions as prescribed. She would not err inany way, if she could help it.When she reached the flat Hurstwood was not there. For a wonderhe was out looking for work, as she supposed. She took only amouthful to eat and then practised on, sustained by visions offreedom from financial distress--"The sound of glory ringing inher ears."When Hurstwood returned he was not so elated as when he wentaway, and now she was obliged to drop practice and get dinner.Here was an early irritation. She would have her work and this.Was she going to act and keep house?"I'll not do it," she said, "after I get started. He can takehis meals out."Each day thereafter brought its cares. She found it was not sucha wonderful thing to be in the chorus, and she also learned thather salary would be twelve dollars a week. After a few days shehad her first sight of those high and mighties--the leadingladies and gentlemen. She saw that they were privileged anddeferred to. She was nothing--absolutely nothing at all.At home was Hurstwood, daily giving her cause for thought. Heseemed to get nothing to do, and yet he made bold to inquire howshe was getting along. The regularity with which he did thissmacked of some one who was waiting to live upon her labour. Nowthat she had a visible means of support, this irritated her. Heseemed to be depending upon her little twelve dollars."How are you getting along?" he would blandly inquire."Oh, all right," she would reply."Find it easy?""It will be all right when I get used to it."His paper would then engross his thoughts."I got some lard," he would add, as an afterthought. "I thoughtmaybe you might want to make some biscuit."The calm suggestion of the man astonished her a little,especially in the light of recent developments. Her dawningindependence gave her more courage to observe, and she felt as ifshe wanted to say things. Still she could not talk to him as shehad to Drouet. There was something in the man's manner of whichshe had always stood in awe. He seemed to have some invisiblestrength in reserve.One day, after her first week's rehearsal, what she expected cameopenly to the surface."We'll have to be rather saving," he said, laying down some meathe had purchased. "You won't get any money for a week or soyet.""No," said Carrie, who was stirring a pan at the stove."I've only got the rent and thirteen dollars more," he added."That's it," she said to herself. "I'm to use my money now."Instantly she remembered that she had hoped to buy a few thingsfor herself. She needed clothes. Her hat was not nice."What will twelve dollars do towards keeping up this flat?" shethought. "I can't do it. Why doesn't he get something to do?"The important night of the first real performance came. She didnot suggest to Hurstwood that he come and see. He did not thinkof going. It would only be money wasted. She had such a smallpart.The advertisements were already in the papers; the posters uponthe bill-boards. The leading lady and many members were cited.Carrie was nothing.As in Chicago, she was seized with stage fright as the very firstentrance of the ballet approached, but later she recovered. Theapparent and painful insignificance of the part took fear awayfrom her. She felt that she was so obscure it did not matter.Fortunately, she did not have to wear tights. A group of twelvewere assigned pretty golden-hued skirts which came only to a lineabout an inch above the knee. Carrie happened to be one of thetwelve.In standing about the stage, marching, and occasionally liftingup her voice in the general chorus, she had a chance to observethe audience and to see the inauguration of a great hit. Therewas plenty of applause, but she could not help noting how poorlysome of the women of alleged ability did."I could do better than that," Carrie ventured to herself, inseveral instances. To do her justice, she was right.After it was over she dressed quickly, and as the manager hadscolded some others and passed her, she imagined she must haveproved satisfactory. She wanted to get out quickly, because sheknew but few, and the stars were gossiping. Outside werecarriages and some correct youths in attractive clothing,waiting. Carrie saw that she was scanned closely. The flutterof an eyelash would have brought her a companion. That she didnot give.One experienced youth volunteered, anyhow."Not going home alone, are you?" he said.Carrie merely hastened her steps and took the Sixth Avenue car.Her head was so full of the wonder of it that she had time fornothing else."Did you hear any more from the brewery?" she asked at the end ofthe week, hoping by the question to stir him on to action."No," he answered, "they're not quite ready yet. I thinksomething will come of that, though."She said nothing more then, objecting to giving up her own money,and yet feeling that such would have to be the case. Hurstwoodfelt the crisis, and artfully decided to appeal to Carrie. Hehad long since realised how good-natured she was, how much shewould stand. There was some little shame in him at the thoughtof doing so, but he justified himself with the thought that hereally would get something. Rent day gave him his opportunity."Well," he said, as he counted it out, "that's about the last ofmy money. I'll have to get something pretty soon."Carrie looked at him askance, half-suspicious of an appeal."If I could only hold out a little longer I think I could getsomething. Drake is sure to open a hotel here in September.""Is he?" said Carrie, thinking of the short month that stillremained until that time."Would you mind helping me out until then?" he said appealingly."I think I'll be all right after that time.""No," said Carrie, feeling sadly handicapped by fate."We can get along if we economise. I'll pay you back all right.""Oh, I'll help you," said Carrie, feeling quite hardhearted atthus forcing him to humbly appeal, and yet her desire for thebenefit of her earnings wrung a faint protest from her."Why don't you take anything, George, temporarily?" she said."What difference does it make? Maybe, after a while, you'll getsomething better.""I will take anything," he said, relieved, and wincing underreproof. "I'd just as leave dig on the streets. Nobody knows mehere.""Oh, you needn't do that," said Carrie, hurt by the pity of it."But there must be other things.""I'll get something!" he said, assuming determination.Then he went back to his paper.