The Stoic

Chapter 75

Five years of wandering through the endless wilderness of law, lawyers, corporations, courts, and judges had left Aileen with the painful realization that at the end of whatever steps she took in any direction, there was nothing. In fact, the sum and substance of all those years and efforts was that she lived alone, was visited by no true friend, legally defeated in one honest claim after another, until at last she fully realized that the dream of grandeur which this house represented had vanished into thin air. There remained only, as her part of the estate, the $800,000 and the widow’s one-third of all personal property after debts were paid, in return for her transfer and surrender to Receiver Cunningham of the mansion, art gallery, pictures, and everything else. The law and the corporations and the executors, like wolves, were constantly on her trail, and finally they had caught up with her to the place where she now had to move out of her own home in order that it could be auctioned off to strangers.

But even before she could move into the apartment she had chosen on Madison Avenue, the house was overrun with agents of the auctioneers, tagging articles of every description with their appropriate catalogue numbers. Wagons drove up to take away paintings – 300 of them – to the Liberty Art

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Galleries on Twenty-third Street. Collectors came and sauntered about, speculating. She was ill and depressed, having to listen to Receiver Cunningham explain that it was his duty to make a complete inventory of the house and gallery and submit it to the court.

There followed announcements in the newspapers to the effect that beginning Wednesday of the following week and continuing for three days and evenings, the furniture, bronzes, statuary, ceiling and overdoor panels, and art objects of all descriptions, including the large library, were to be disposed of. The place: 864 Fifth Avenue; the auctioneer: J. L. Donahue.

Amid the irritating confusion, Aileen wandered about collecting her personal belongings and having her few faithful servants remove them to her apartment.

The interest and curiosity of the public in the Cowperwood possessions grew steadily from day to day, and the demand for admission tickets to the house was so great that the auctioneers were unable to meet it. The charge of one dollar admission fee, both to the exhibitions and the sales sessions, was apparently no deterrent to those interested.

On the day the sale opened at the Liberty Art Galleries, the auditorium was crowded from pit to gallery. There was tremendous applause when certain masterpieces of art were offered. On the other hand, at the Cowperwood mansion, the difficulties increased. The catalogue of objects to be sold there contained more than thirteen hundred numbers. And when the day of the auction finally arrived, motors, taxicabs, and carriages hugged the curb at

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Fifth Avenue and Sixty-eighth Street while the sale was going on. There were millionaire collectors, famous artists, and celebrated society women – whose motors had never stopped there in earlier days – all clamoring to get inside to bid on the beautiful personal belongings of Aileen and Frank Cowperwood.

His gold bedstead, once owned by the king of Belgium and bought for $80,000; the pink marble bathtub in Aileen’s bathroom, which had cost $50,000; the fabulous silk carpets from the Mosque of Ardebil; the bronzes, red African vases, Louis XIV gilt sofas; candelabras, also Louis XIV, of cut crystal, with amethyst and topaz drops; exquisite porcelain, glass, silver, and smaller objects such as cameos, rings, pins, necklaces, precious stones, and figurines.

From one room to another they followed the booming voice of the auctioneer which reverberated through the great rooms. They saw «Cupid and Psyche” by Rodin sold to a dealer for $51,000. One bidder, who had gone as high as $1600 on a Botticelli, lost it to a $1700 voice. A large, impressive woman in purple, who stood near the auctioneer most of the time, for some reason always bid $390 on an article, never lower, never higher. When the crowd rushed into the palm room on the heels of the auctioneer to view a Rodin statue, he called out to them «Don’t lean against the palms!»

Throughout the sale, a brougham drove slowly up and down Fifth Avenue two or three times, its occupant a lone woman. She looked at the motors and carriages rolling up to the entrance to the Cowperwood mansion, and watched the men and women crowding up the steps into the house. It meant

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Chapter 76

During the period in which the estate of Cowperwood had disintegrated and the death of Aileen had occurred, Berenice had slowly but surely embarked on a course that she felt would adjust her to society and life in any form, provided, as she reasoned from time to time, she could equip herself with the mental and spiritual data that would brush completely out of her consideration the whole Western materialistic viewpoint which made money and luxury its only god. Primarily, the desire for this change in thought had originated in a struggle against the sorrow that had seized upon her after Cowperwood’s death, and which had almost embittered her life. Then, quite accidentally, or seemingly so, she had come upon a little volume known as the Bhagavad-Gita, which seemed to condense and epitomize thousands of years of Asiatic religious thought.

Who knows the Atman

Knows that happiness

Born of pure knowledge:

The joy of sattwa.

Deep his delight

After strict self-schooling:

Sour toil at first,

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But at last what sweetness,

The end of sorrow.

Who cares to seek

For that perfect freedom?

One man, perhaps,

In many thousands.

Then tell me how many

Of those who find freedom

Shall know the total

Truth of my being?

Perhaps one only.

As she found herself singing these songs of God, she began to wonder if she might be the one to find truth and understanding. It was worth striving for, and she had gone in search of it.

But before arriving in India to pursue her studies, she had gone to England to arrange for her mother to accompany her. And it was only a few hours after her arrival at Pryor’s Cove that Lord Stane came to see her. When she told him of her decision to go to India to take up the serious study of Hindu philosophy, Stane, while he was interested, was also shocked. For many years he had heard the reports of Englishmen, who, for the government or other interests, had been sent to India, and recalling these he felt that India was no place for a young and beautiful woman.

Stane understood well enough by now that Berenice was more to Cowperwood than a ward, and that there was some sort of shadow over her mother’s past; but he was still in love

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with her, and felt that even with her social handicaps, his own life would be mentally and spiritually happier if she were near him and he could enjoy her companionship and her liberal and intellectual viewpoint. He would, in fact, consider himself fortunate to marry such a charming and distinguished temperament.

But when Berenice explained to him what had been crystallizing in her mind these past few weeks since Cowperwood’s death, and how convinced she had become that she would receive mental and spiritual help there, away from the Western world and its crass materialism, he was inclined to defer his personal desires in connection with her until such time as experiences of her own might have clarified all the various conflicting emotions and interests which now for the time being dominated her. And so he made no particular reference to his feeling for her, except to say that he hoped she would be willing to avail herself of the advice of his good friend, Lord Severence. For, as she knew, Severence was richly informed as to prevailing conditions in India, and would be glad to be of service to her. Berenice replied that she would be happy to receive any advice or aid that Lord Severence wished to give her, although she knew she would be led directly to whatever it was she needed. As she said: «Something appears to be drawing me like a magnet, and I feel I shall not be deflected in any way».

«In other words, Berenice, you believe in fate», said Stane. «Well, I believe in it, too, to a degree, but plainly you have the force and the faith that will cause your desires to be realized. And now all I can think of in relation to all this is that you will be willing to call on me for any service whatsoever that I may

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Chapter 77

Arriving in Bombay, Berenice and her mother were impressed by the approach to this beautiful city. From the sea a long wide waterway, studded with mountainous islands, led to the city. On the left towered a group of stately buildings, and far to the right the palm-fringed shore of the mainland, gradually rising to the peaks of the Western Ghats in the far distance.

In Bombay itself, bearing a letter to the management of the Majestic Hotel from Lord Severence, they were granted a most courteous and gratifying service for the entire period of their stay. So much so that they were moved to remain for several weeks in order to explore the city’s many contrasting characteristics as opposed to those of the Western cities. And, to their delight, they were richly rewarded by their many varied impressions. The wide thoroughfares, dotted with oxcarts hauling merchandise; the crowded bazaars, with their richness and variety of display and seething with people of many races and religions, many of them scantily clothed and barefooted peoples of every color, from light brown to black: Afghans, Sikhs, Tibetans, Singhalese, Baghdad Jews, Japanese, Chinese, and many others. But, ah, the poorer and more emaciated groups: thin bodies, sunken chests, many of them running with jin-

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rikishas here and there about the city, past beautiful buildings, richly ornamented temples, the university, all bordered with palms: coconut, date, palmyra, areca catechu, fruit and nut, as well as gum trees. In sum, new tropic sights and peoples, which held their constant interest until they finally left Bombay by train for Nagpur, a city lying to the east of Bombay on the main line to Calcutta.

The reason for this was that they chose to follow the directions offered them by Lord Severence, who had advised that they search out one Guru Borodandaj, who was spoken of by him as the Dissolver of Matter and Controller of Energy, and who resided near the city of Nagpur, where travelers were accepted from time to time at a simple frame building of ancient design overlooking a square in the heart of the city.

No sooner were they settled than Berenice, eager to continue her quest of the Guru, started out with her letter of instructions from Lord Severence. As directed she followed the main north and south highway which ran through Nagpur until it came to an old and somewhat dilapidated structure which looked like an abandoned mill. Then she took a sharp turn to the right and walked along a deserted cottonfield for about half a mile, which brought her to a grove of large blackwood and teakwood trees, so closely planted as to shut out the bright heat of the sun. She knew instinctively that this was the abode of the Guru, for Severence had described it accurately. Hesitating and looking about dubiously, she saw a rough and narrow path winding inward toward the center of the grove. This she followed to the point where it ended. There she saw a large square, semi-decayed wooden structure, which, as she

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