Other Things Being Equal — Story, Setting & Ideas

“I was at the theatre last night.”

The blow drew no blood.

“Which theatre?” asked Mrs. Levice, innocently.

“The Baldwin; Booth played the ‘Merchant of Venice.’”

“Did you enjoy it?” queried her aunt, either evading or failing to perceive the meaning.

“I did.” A pause, and then, “Did Ruth?”

Mrs. Levice saw a flash of daylight, but her answer hinted at no perturbation.

“Very much. Booth is her actor-idol, you know.”

“So I have heard.” She spread her crochet work on her knee as if measuring its length, then with striking indifference picked it up again and adjusted her needle,--

“She came in rather late, didn’t she?”

“Did she?” questioned Mrs. Levice, parrying with enjoyment the indirect thrusts. “I did not know; had the curtain risen?”

“No; there was plenty of time for every one to recognize her.”

“I had no idea she was so well known.”

“Those who did not know her, knew her escort. Dr. Kemp is well known, and his presence is naturally remarked.”

“Yes; his appearance is very striking.”

“Aunt Esther!” The vehemence of Mrs. Lewis’s feelings sent her ball of cotton rolling to the other end of the room.

“My dear, what is it?” Mrs. Levice turned a pair of bright, interested eyes on her niece.

“You know very well what I wish to say: everybody wondered to see Ruth with Dr. Kemp.”

“Because every one knows that she never goes out with any gentleman but Uncle or Louis, and we all were surprised. The Hoffmans sat behind us, and Miss Hoffman leaned forward to ask what it meant. I met several acquaintances this morning who had been there, and each one made some remark about Ruth. One said, ‘I had no idea the Levices were so intimate with Dr. Kemp;’ another young girl laughed and said, ‘Ruth Levice had a swell escort last night, didn’t she?’ Still another asked, ‘Anything on the tapis in your family, Mrs. Lewis?’ And what could I say?”

Mrs. Levice’s quiet tone did not betray her vexation. She had feared just such a little disturbance from the Jewish community, but her husband’s views had overruled hers, and she was now bound to uphold his. Nevertheless, she hated anything of the kind.

“I simply said I knew nothing at all about it, except that he was your physician. Even if I had known, I wouldn’t have said more.”

“There is no more to be said. Dr. Kemp and Ruth have become friendly through their mutual interest in several poor patients; and in the course of conversation one morning he heard that Ruth was anxious to see this play, and had no escort. So he asked her, and her father saw no objection to her going. It is a pity she didn’t think to hand round a written explanation to her different Jewish friends in the theatre.”

“There you go, Aunt Esther! Jewish friends! I am sure that no matter how indifferent Uncle is to such things, you must remember that our Jewish girls never go alone to the theatre with any one outside of the family, and certainly not with a Christian.”

“What has that to do with it, so long as he is a gentleman?”

“Nothing. Only I didn’t think you cared to have Ruth’s name coupled with one.”

“No, nor with any one. But as I cannot control people’s tongues--”

“Then I would not give them cause for wagging. Aunt Esther, is there anything between Ruth and Dr. Kemp?”

“Jennie, you surprise and anger me. Do you know what you insinuate?”

“I can’t help it. Either you are crazy, or ignorant of what is going on, and I consider it my duty to enlighten you,”--a gossip’s duties are all away from home,--“unless, of course, you prefer to remain in blissful or wilful ignorance.”

“Of course I knew you must have sanctioned her going last night, though, I must confess, I still think you did very wrongly; but do you know where she went this morning?”

Mrs. Levice was put out. She was enough of a Jewess to realize that if you dislike Jewish comment, you must never step out of the narrowly conventional Jewish pathway. That Ruth, her only daughter, should be the subject of vulgar bandying was more bitter than wormwood to her; but that her own niece could come with these wild conjectures incensed her beyond endurance.

“I do know,” she said in response to the foregoing question. “Ruth is not a sneak,--she tells me everything; but her enterprises are so mild that there would be no harm if she left them untold. She called on a poor young girl who, after a long illness, desires pupils in Spanish.”