He fancied at times that it might as well never have been started at all.
"The one divine, far-off event" of the poet did not appeal to him as having any basis in fact.
Mrs. Lester Kane was of very much the same opinion.
Jennie, living on the South Side with her adopted child, Rose Perpetua, was of no fixed conclusion as to the meaning of life.
She had not the incisive reasoning capacity of either Mr. or Mrs. Lester Kane.
She had seen a great deal, suffered a great deal, and had read some in a desultory way.
Her mind had never grasped the nature and character of specialized knowledge.
History, physics, chemistry, botany, geology, and sociology were not fixed departments in her brain as they were in Lester's and Letty's.
Instead there was the feeling that the world moved in some strange, unstable way.
Apparently no one knew clearly what it was all about.
People were born and died.
Some believed that the world had been made six thousand years before; some that it was millions of years old.
Was it all blind chance, or was there some guiding intelligence—a God?
Almost in spite of herself she felt there must be something—a higher power which produced all the beautiful things—the flowers, the stars, the trees, the grass.
Nature was so beautiful!
If at times life seemed cruel, yet this beauty still persisted.
The thought comforted her; she fed upon it in her hours of secret loneliness.
It has been said that Jennie was naturally of an industrious turn.
She liked to be employed, though she thought constantly as she worked.
She was of matronly proportions in these days—not disagreeably large, but full bodied, shapely, and smooth-faced in spite of her cares.
Her eyes were gray and appealing. Her hair was still of a rich brown, but there were traces of gray in it.
Her neighbors spoke of her as sweet-tempered, kindly, and hospitable.
They knew nothing of her history, except that she had formerly resided in Sandwood, and before that in Cleveland.
She was very reticent as to her past.
Jennie had fancied, because of her natural aptitude for taking care of sick people, that she might get to be a trained nurse.
But she was obliged to abandon that idea, for she found that only young people were wanted.
She also thought that some charitable organization might employ her, but she did not understand the new theory of charity which was then coming into general acceptance and practice—namely, only to help others to help themselves.
She believed in giving, and was not inclined to look too closely into the credentials of those who asked for help; consequently her timid inquiry at one relief agency after another met with indifference, if not unqualified rebuke.
She finally decided to adopt another child for Rose Perpetua's sake; she succeeded in securing a boy, four years old, who was known as Henry—Henry Stover.
Her support was assured, for her income was paid to her through a trust company.
She had no desire for speculation or for the devious ways of trade. The care of flowers, the nature of children, the ordering of a home were more in her province.
One of the interesting things in connection with this separation once it had been firmly established related to Robert and Lester, for these two since the reading of the will a number of years before had never met.
Robert had thought of his brother often. He had followed his success since he had left Jennie with interest.
He read of his marriage to Mrs. Gerald with pleasure; he had always considered her an ideal companion for his brother.
He knew by many signs and tokens that his brother, since the unfortunate termination of their father's attitude and his own peculiar movements to gain control of the Kane Company, did not like him.
Still they had never been so far apart mentally—certainly not in commercial judgment.
Lester was prosperous now.
He could afford to be generous. He could afford to make up.
And after all, he had done his best to aid his brother to come to his senses—and with the best intentions.
There were mutual interests they could share financially if they were friends. He wondered from time to time if Lester would not be friendly with him.
Time passed, and then once, when he was in Chicago, he made the friends with whom he was driving purposely turn into the North Shore in order to see the splendid mansion which the Kanes occupied.
He knew its location from hearsay and description.
When he saw it a touch of the old Kane home atmosphere came back to him. Lester in revising the property after purchase had had a conservatory built on one side not unlike the one at home in Cincinnati.
That same night he sat down and wrote Lester asking if he would not like to dine with him at the Union Club.
He was only in town for a day or two, and he would like to see him again.
There was some feeling he knew, but there was a proposition he would like to talk to him about.
Would he come, say, on Thursday?
On the receipt of this letter Lester frowned and fell into a brown study.
He had never really been healed of the wound that his father had given him. He had never been comfortable in his mind since Robert had deserted him so summarily.
He realized now that the stakes his brother had been playing for were big.