"If I don't get something pretty soon, I think I'll go home."
Minnie saw her chance.
"Sven thinks it might be best for the winter, anyhow."
The situation flashed on Carrie at once.They were unwilling to keep her any longer, out of work.She did not blame Minnie, she did not blame Hanson very much.Now, as she sat there digesting the remark, she was glad she had Drouet's money.
"Yes," she said after a few moments, "I thought of doing that."
She did not explain that the thought, however, had aroused all the antagonism of her nature.Columbia City, what was there for her? She knew its dull, little round by heart.Here was the great, mysterious city which was still a magnet for her.What she had seen only suggested its possibilities.Now to turn back on it and live the little old life out there--she almost exclaimed against the thought.
She had reached home early and went in the front room to think.
What could she do? She could not buy new shoes and wear them here.She would need to save part of the twenty to pay her fare home.She did not want to borrow of Minnie for that.And yet, how could she explain where she even got that money? If she could only get enough to let her out easy.
She went over the tangle again and again.Here, in the morning, Drouet would expect to see her in a new jacket, and that couldn't be.The Hansons expected her to go home, and she wanted to get away, and yet she did not want to go home.In the light of the way they would look on her getting money without work, the taking of it now seemed dreadful.She began to be ashamed.The whole situation depressed her.It was all so clear when she was with Drouet.Now it was all so tangled, so hopeless--much worse than it was before, because she had the semblance of aid in her hand which she could not use.
Her spirits sank so that at supper Minnie felt that she must have had another hard day.Carrie finally decided that she would give the money back.It was wrong to take it.She would go down in the morning and hunt for work.At noon she would meet Drouet as agreed and tell him.At this decision her heart sank, until she was the old Carrie of distress.
Curiously, she could not hold the money in her hand without feeling some relief.Even after all her depressing conclusions, she could sweep away all thought about the matter and then the twenty dollars seemed a wonderful and delightful thing.Ah, money, money, money! What a thing it was to have.How plenty of it would clear away all these troubles.
In the morning she got up and started out a little early.Her decision to hunt for work was moderately strong, but the money in her pocket, after all her troubling over it, made the work question the least shade less terrible.She walked into the wholesale district, but as the thought of applying came with each passing concern, her heart shrank.What a coward she was, she thought to herself.Yet she had applied so often.It would be the same old story.She walked on and on, and finally did go into one place, with the old result.She came out feeling that luck was against her.It was no use.
Without much thinking, she reached Dearborn Street.Here was the great Fair store with its multitude of delivery wagons about its long window display, its crowd of shoppers.It readily changed her thoughts, she who was so weary of them.It was here that she had intended to come and get her new things.Now for relief from distress; she thought she would go in and see.She would look at the jackets.
There is nothing in this world more delightful than that middle state in which we mentally balance at times, possessed of the means, lured by desire, and yet deterred by conscience or want of decision.When Carrie began wandering around the store amid the fine displays she was in this mood.Her original experience in this same place had given her a high opinion of its merits.Now she paused at each individual bit of finery, where before she had hurried on.Her woman's heart was warm with desire for them.
How would she look in this, how charming that would make her!
She came upon the corset counter and paused in rich reverie as she noted the dainty concoctions of colour and lace there displayed.If she would only make up her mind, she could have one of those now.She lingered in the jewelry department.She saw the earrings, the bracelets, the pins, the chains.What would she not have given if she could have had them all! She would look fine too, if only she had some of these things.
The jackets were the greatest attraction.When she entered the store, she already had her heart fixed upon the peculiar little tan jacket with large mother-of-pearl buttons which was all the rage that fall.Still she delighted to convince herself that there was nothing she would like better.She went about among the glass cases and racks where these things were displayed, and satisfied herself that the one she thought of was the proper one.
All the time she wavered in mind, now persuading herself that she could buy it right away if she chose, now recalling to herself the actual condition.At last the noon hour was dangerously near, and she had done nothing.She must go now and return the money.
Drouet was on the corner when she came up.
"Hello," he said, "where is the jacket and"--looking down--"the shoes?"
Carrie had thought to lead up to her decision in some intelligent way, but this swept the whole fore-schemed situation by the board.
"I came to tell you that--that I can't take the money."
"Oh, that's it, is it?" he returned."Well, you come on with me.
Let's go over here to Partridge's."
Carrie walked with him.Behold, the whole fabric of doubt and impossibility had slipped from her mind.She could not get at the points that were so serious, the things she was going to make plain to him.
"Have you had lunch yet? Of course you haven't.Let's go in here," and Drouet turned into one of the very nicely furnished restaurants off State Street, in Monroe.
