His voice was the voice of a friend.
“What can you do back at Columbia City?” he went on, rousing by the words in Carrie’s mind a picture of the dull world she had left.
“There isn’t anything down there.
Chicago’s the place.
You can get a nice room here and some clothes, and then you can do something.”
Carrie looked out through the window into the busy street.
There it was, the admirable, great city, so fine when you are not poor.
An elegant coach, with a prancing pair of bays, passed by, carrying in its upholstered depths a young lady.
“What will you have if you go back?” asked Drouet.
There was no subtle undercurrent to the question.
He imagined that she would have nothing at all of the things he thought worth while.
Carrie sat still, looking out.
She was wondering what she could do.
They would be expecting her to go home this week.
Drouet turned to the subject of the clothes she was going to buy.
“Why not get yourself a nice little jacket?
You’ve got to have it.
I’ll loan you the money. You needn’t worry about taking it.
You can get yourself a nice room by yourself.
I won’t hurt you.”
Carrie saw the drift, but could not express her thoughts.
She felt more than ever the helplessness of her case.
“If I could only get something to do,” she said.
“Maybe you can,” went on Drouet, “if you stay here.
You can’t if you go away.
They won’t let you stay out there.
Now, why not let me get you a nice room?
I won’t bother you — you needn’t be afraid.
Then, when you get fixed up, maybe you could get something.”
He looked at her pretty face and it vivified his mental resources.
She was a sweet little mortal to him — there was no doubt of that.
She seemed to have some power back of her actions.
She was not like the common run of store-girls. She wasn’t silly.
In reality, Carrie had more imagination than he — more taste.
It was a finer mental strain in her that made possible her depression and loneliness.
Her poor clothes were neat, and she held her head unconsciously in a dainty way.
“Do you think I could get something?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, reaching over and filling her cup with tea.
“I’ll help you.”
She looked at him, and he laughed reassuringly.
“Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do.
We’ll go over here to Partridge’s and you pick out what you want.
Then we’ll look around for a room for you. You can leave the things there.
Then we’ll go to the show to-night.”
Carrie shook her head.
“Well, you can go out to the flat then, that’s all right.
You don’t need to stay in the room.
Just take it and leave your things there.”
She hung in doubt about this until the dinner was over.
“Let’s go over and look at the jackets,” he said.