Chapter 69

Cowperwood’s attempt to clarify for Aileen the significance of the wealth that would be hers at his death, and the necessity on her part for a practical understanding of the problems she would be likely to encounter as its custodian, instead of inducing an atmosphere of tender regard, left him with a sense of the probable futility of it all. And this because of his knowledge of her lack of realization of how important these matters were to him, as well as to her. For he knew well she could not read the characters and intentions of men, and were he no longer here, what assurance could he have of the fulfilment of the various ideals which most of his bequests embodied? And this thought, instead of favorably affecting his mood in regard to living, really discouraged him. So much so that he was not only a little weary, but a little bored and spiritually dubious of the import of life itself.

For how strange the almost unbroken irritability of their lives together, covering, as they did, a period of over thirty years! There was, to begin with, his early enthusiasm for her when she was seventeen and he was twenty-seven, and then a little later his discovery that her beauty and physical strength concealed also a lack of understanding that had kept her unaware of his financial and mental stature, at the same time that it caused her to consider that he was an unchanging possession of hers which was not to be modified by so much as a glance in any other direction than that which led to her. And yet, for all the storms that followed his least diversion, here they were, after all these years, with little understanding on her part of the qualities in him which had slowly and yet surely led him to his present wealth.

Even so, he had finally discovered a woman whose temperament made his life supremely worth while. For he had found Berenice, and she had found him. Together they had clarified themselves, each to the other. Her wondrous love shone in her voice, her eyes, her words, her touch. For bending over him from time to time, he could hear her say: “Darling! Beloved! This love of ours is not just for today, it is forever. It will live in you wherever you are, and yours in me. We shall not forget. Darling, rest and be happy.”

It was at this point in his meditations that Berenice, clad in the white uniform of a nurse, entered the room. He stirred at the sound of her familiar voice as she greeted him, and gazed as if not fully comprehending what his eyes beheld. Her costume made such an attractive setting for her unusual beauty. With an effort he raised his head, and although obviously very weak, exclaimed:

“You! Aphrodite! Goddess of the sea! Immaculately white! ”

She bent down and kissed him.

“A goddess! ” he murmured. “The golden red of your hair! The blue of your eyes! ” And then, pressing her hand, he drew her closer to him. “And now I have you with me. I see you as you beckoned to me that day in Thessalonika by the blue Aegean! ”

“Frank! Frank! If only I were your goddess, forever and ever! ”

She knew that he had become delirious, and tried to pacify him.

“That smile, ” went on Cowperwood. “Smile on me again. It is like sunshine. Hold my hands, my Aphrodite of the Sea! ”

Berenice sat on the side of the bed and began to cry softly to herself.

“Aphrodite, don’t ever leave me! I need you so! ” and he clung to her.

At this point Dr. James walked into the room, and noting Cowperwood’s condition, went directly to him. Turning and surveying Berenice, he said: “Be proud, my dear! A giant of the world salutes you. But leave us along for a minute or two. I need to restore him. He is not going to die.”

She left the room while the doctor administered a restorative. In a few moments, Cowperwood came out of his delirium, for he said: “Where is Berenice? ”

“She will be with you in a moment, Frank, only now rest and quiet will be best for you, ” said James.

But Berenice heard him call her, and came in and sat on a little chair beside his bed, waiting. In a few moments he opened his eyes, and began talking.

“You know, Berenice, ” he said, as if they had been discussing the matter, “it is so important to keep the mansion intact as a home for my art objects.”

“Yes, I know, Frank, ” replied Berenice, softly and sympathetically. “You have always loved it so.”

“Yes, I have always loved it. To leave the asphalt of Fifth Avenue and in ten seconds, after crossing the threshold, to be within a palm garden, walk through flowers and growing things, sit down among them, hear the plash of water, the tinkle of a rill dropping into the little pool, so that I heard notes of water music, like a brook in the cool greenness of the woods—”

“I know, darling, ” whispered Berenice. “But now you must rest. I will be right near you even when you sleep. I am your nurse.”

And as Berenice went about her duties that night, and on every other night, she was impressed by his unbroken interest in the many affairs which he could no longer possibly manage. One day it was the art gallery, next day the underground, and next, the hospital.

Although she did not actually anticipate it, any more than did Dr. James, Cowperwood had only a very few more days to live. And yet, during such hours as she spent with him, he seemed more cheerful, except that after talking for a moment or two, he now invariably manifested a great weariness and a desire to sleep.

“Let him sleep as much as possible, ” counseled Dr. James. “He is merely conserving his strength.” A statement which discouraged Berenice greatly. So much so that she asked if something more could not be done for him.

“No, ” replied James. “Sleep is truly the best thing for him, and he may pull through. I am trying the best restoratives I know, but we can only wait. He may take a turn for the better.”

Only he did not take a turn for the better. Instead, forty-eight hours before he died he took a definite turn for the worse, which caused Dr. James to send for his son, Frank A. Cowperwood, Jr., and Anna, his daughter, who was now Mrs. Templeton. But not Aileen, as his daughter and son noticed when they arrived. When asked why Mrs. Cowperwood was not present, Dr. James explained to them that for reasons of her own she had refused to come to visit him any more.

However, although they had known of the existing estrangement between Aileen and Cowperwood, his son and daughter still had their own misgivings as to why she refused to come to see Cowperwood at this crucial time, and they felt obligated to inform her as to his condition.

Therefore, they hurried to a public telephone and called her. But, much to their surprise, they found she was not in a mood to consider anything in connection with him or them, asserting that Dr. James and Miss Fleming, having arranged Cowperwood’s affairs with his consent and with no regard for her wishes, surely could take care of everything. She flatly refused to come.

And so, while they were stunned by this seeming cruelty on Aileen’s part, they felt there was nothing they could do but return to watch the outcome of his turn for the worse. For fear controlled all present: Dr. James, Berenice, and Jamieson, all of whom stood by helpless for the want of a single clarifying idea. They waited for hours, the while they listened to his heavy breathing or periods of silence, until suddenly, twenty-four hours later, as if seeking to conclude a great weariness, he stirred sharply, even half-rose on one elbow as though looking about, and then as suddenly fell back and lay still.

Death! Death! There it was—irresistible and bleak in the face of all of them!

“Frank! ” cried Berenice, stiffening and staring as if in supreme wonder. She hurried to his side and fell to her knees, seizing his damp hands and covering her face with them. “Oh, Frank, my darling, not you! ” she cried out, and then drooped slowly to the floor, half-fainting.