Chapter XX

Juno and I always felt out of place among the people who were “different,” we felt so secure in our love for each other and so out of their class; yet we kept in touch with them in a degree ever curious. While we were with Phil one day there came to see her a youth about twenty years old—handsome with a wonderful complexion, well-groomed, clever in music and an actor of sorts, though not a star. I noticed that Phil was watching Juno and me very quizzically, apparently for some reaction on our part. He sang and played for us and was very charming. After he had gone, Phil asked us how we liked him. We said we found him very attractive and talented. Upon further questioning we acknowledged that we had seen nothing strange about him.

She smiled and then proceeded to enlighten us on another phase of the great problem of sex. She said he was the perfect type of invert. She went on to explain the meaning of this term which we did not know. We were aghast! While we had been astonished to learn that there were other women who cared for each other, the surprise was even greater to discover that there existed a like propensity in men.

It seemed no less than a crime that we, grown women, should not have known these things. Other women, mothers of boys, there must have been thousands, did not know of conditions like that, we had all been “so carefully brought up!” Imagine sending our young boys to the great cities so ignorant of the menace of the male solicitor on the streets, even though they may have been warned about the women who might approach them!

Just at that time it was considered very smart to go slumming in New York. Of course we wanted to see everything and do as the rest of the people were doing, so we went slumming too.

With two men friends who knew the ropes, and one other woman we put in one night of frightful experiences. We knew many of our married and unmarried friends who were anxious to go again and again, but that one night was all we ever wanted of slumming. The ugliness of the displays we saw as we hurried from one horrid but famous resort to another in and about the Bowery has no place here; for many years I have tried to forget the sights I saw that night, so that I dislike even to try to recall them. However, as a matter of education I am glad I went that one time. In the study of types, it was a good school. Seeing hundreds of male inverts, for instance, gathered together in a group made it easy to recognize them on any occasion where we might meet or see them, and so avoid any contact.

Juno and I had had enough of that class of humans. For many years we kept to ourselves and let them all drift out of our lives. We had had our education along those lines and that was what we were after. Phil did come into my life many years later, as I shall relate in time.

Our lives were on a much higher plane than those of the real inverts. While we did indulge in our sexual intercourse, that was never the thought uppermost in our minds. That was but an outlet for emotions which too long had been pent up in both our lives for the good of our health. We found ourselves far more fit for good work after having been thus relieved. But we had seen evidences of overindulgence on the part of some of those with whom we came in contact, in loss of vitality and weakened health, ending in consumption.

The “finishing school” where Juno was engaged had to be closed some time later on account of the physical breakdown of the owner, and Juno took up secretarial work with a philanthropist. A year later I too accepted a position with the same lady, taking charge of another branch of the great work she was doing for the benefit of mankind.

Side by side we worked for over five years, having our own little apartment always near to our place of business. Our employer had three summer residences, and we were obliged to go to nearby boarding places during the summer. At one of these family boarding houses we met a very interesting young woman a little younger than we, and we three became very good friends. This girl, whom we will call Mollie, showed a marked preference for Juno, which rather amused us; but there seemed no danger, as Juno was very frank about it. However, as Juno and I talked it over we thought out of consideration for Mollie, who might become too fond of Juno, it would be better to drop the intimacy quietly when we took our departure for the city at the close of the season, and so we did.

One day ... Yes, there came a day ... I am telling it all ... several months later, Juno had some business for our lady philanthropist (whom I will refer to as L. P. hereafter) which took her to the town where Mollie lived. No mention was made of Mollie, as Juno was not to go anywhere near the little hotel. It never entered my mind that she might think of doing so. She did not go that morning to the office which was in the home of L. P., but went directly to the train with the hour all arranged on which she would return.

Imagine my terror when I found in my desk that morning a note from Juno telling me she had betrayed my confidence and had probably forfeited my love because she had been seeing Mollie all winter now and then, had kept up a correspondence with her, and was to be with her a part of that day. She said she would return to the city on the train agreed on; if I felt that I could forgive her, I was to meet her, but if I were not there she would know that I was not able to do so and she would go out of my life. She vowed that she loved me as she never could anyone else in the world and regretted deeply that she had so deceived me.

I was nearly out of my mind. I could not stay in the office. I told L. P. that I had received some very bad news and asked for a leave for the day, which she gladly granted. After leaving plenty of work for my stenographer to do, I left. Where I went I never could remember. I walked and walked and when I was so tired I could walk no more, I took a hansom and drove and drove, much to the consternation, yet at the same time benefit, of the man on the box.

I made many efforts to reach Juno by telephone but to no avail. Finally, after what seemed to me a thousand years, I bought a big bunch of violets and went to the station, hours before the train was due, and there I waited and waited. At last she came, looking very pale and worried. I took her in my arms and we went home happy.

A strange thing is love!

I had suffered the tortures of hell from my first attack of jealousy, a sensation until then unknown to me. But alas! it was not to be my last! I realized later that at that time I should have ended our lives together. But I was not strong enough to do it.

I thought there could be no greater suffering than I had endured that day, so I took her back to my heart, thinking that time would heal that deep hurt. Again she promised positively that she would have nothing more to do with Mollie, and I believed her.

When summer came again, there seemed to be no other way than to plan to go back to the same family hotel where Mollie lived with her family. I rather questioned the advisability of this, but Juno accused me of still being jealous and not trusting her. She vowed that she never could be jealous of me, no matter what happened, and so we went there.

It was fortunate in a way that we did so. I saw how things were going and was very unhappy and sad. I said but little, and again I was told that she could not understand my being jealous and that hers was the greater love because she could not feel the way I did under the same circumstances.

All these details of the reactions of our love may seem irrelevant, but it is my wish here to show the great and beautiful aspects of a love such as ours, and then to show the other side, the depths to which it was leading. I am trying to show that in all attachments of the heart and body there are two distinct sides and that there must be a distinction between Lust and Love.

As long as Love, embracing companionship, sympathy, compatibility, and understanding, is the greater urge in the union, all is well and to me the ideal, but when Lust has the greater hold there is bound to be a shipwreck.

After Juno had made the assertion that she could not be jealous, I (cat-like) descended to the lower plane and decided to give her some of her own medicine. I deliberately went to work to win Mollie’s love, and I did win it. I was quite a past master in the art, though the boast is unworthy. Mollie was a hungry child starving for emotional relief (which, by the way, I never gave her), and I knew it. Poor Juno! She almost went out of her mind and begged for mercy as she acknowledged that she was being torn with the most dreaded of all diseases, jealousy.

This was all pretty hard on poor Mollie, as she was madly in love with me at this time. But I wanted, selfishly, to give a dose large enough to let Juno see how she had made me suffer.

About this time a rich relative had given Juno an annuity, so it was not necessary for her to keep on with her work. She would not give it up, however, unless I would do so too. I did not feel that I could give up a good position which would last me as long as I liked, for by so doing I would not be able to keep up my share of the expenses. So we went on for a while and I kept up my friendship with Mollie, not seeing her very often, however.

I have wondered since if Juno’s suffering may not have been because of Mollie’s transferring her affections to me rather than because of my seeming interest in her. Be that as it may, Juno was very anxious to get away from the city and at last I consented to give up my work and go with her somewhere. I had saved quite a good little nest egg in case of emergency, and as Juno’s allowance was sufficiently large enough for us to live on if we went to the country, we did so. Juno promised that she would always share with me her income, which would probably increase with the death of her relative. She asked me to give up my friendship with Mollie. Unfair to the girl as it was, I did so.

Our employer was aghast when we told her that we had decided to give up our work. We gave her a month’s time in which to fill our positions. She was so angry to find that we would not reconsider our decision to leave her that I regret to say that she rather fell from the pedestal upon which we had always placed her. In that month she gave us about six months’ work, and we were physically unable to accomplish all that she required. The parting was a great relief at the end.

My mother had passed away, and I had no longer any financial responsibilities for family. So being assured that Juno would be able to supply my needs if any should occur, we went to the country.

A young married couple, friends of ours in New York, had gone to a little village in Connecticut near the Berkshires and urged us to come there, which we did. We soon found a place about two miles out of town on a hill from which we got a most beautiful view. There we made our home. The farmhouse was old-fashioned and spacious. With our artistic furnishings we made it very attractive.

We took with us a girl from the home for “fallen girls” of which I have spoken. She brought her baby with her. This girl was as pretty as a picture, with curly reddish hair, clear skin and ever a smile on her lips. She loved her baby with a mad passion, as she also loved her work. She was very happy with us and so glad to be free from the restrictions of the home. I don’t think I ever saw so sexual a nature. A man appearing on the place roused her to the depths, but she never gave way to any impulse while with us. She fought a good fight.

Juno and I took most of the care of the baby and loved it. We took up our life on the farm with joy and enthusiasm and felt we were really re-united. Mollie was entirely out of our lives. Our home was the center of some importance, socially. We found some very congenial friends. Bridge was in its infancy, and we played nearly every day between tea at four o’clock and dinner at seven.

We determined that we would live our lives in the way which best suited us, and others could accept or not, as suited them. We always had wine with our dinner and a cocktail before dinner if we were so inclined. We both smoked openly, and our young friends were worried for fear the “natives” would be shocked beyond belief.

We went to church with these friends, who were ardent worshipers. Make a note of this, as later it may cause a smile.

The next step was to invite the clergyman and his wife to dine. The dinner was rather formal. Lizzie was an excellent cook and a perfect waitress and nothing pleased her more than to have company. Wine was served as usual and apparently enjoyed by both of our guests, but especially so by the clergyman. He was an Episcopalian, rather inclined to “High Church.”

When coffee was served in the parlor, cigarettes were also on hand and cigars for the Domine, which he enjoyed. As the lady politely declined the cigarettes, we asked her to excuse our smoking as it had long been our custom to do so. That was long, long ago, when few women smoked. She was very gracious in her acceptance of our habit and all went very easily and naturally.

The invitation was shortly forthcoming in return of this occasion, and we were “accepted.” We were asked to join all the activities of the church, which did not appeal to us especially; but we were playing the game, so we were launched, much to the surprise of our young friends who were so afraid that the town would not stand for the smoking.

It was my way to lay the cards right on the table. If there were any who objected, that was their privilege. I had the greatest contempt for women who would smoke on the sly but publicly vow they never did such a thing, and I knew lots of them.

Of course, the world was not then able to hear the truth about Juno’s and my love for each other. About that we made no attempt to enlighten them. We were just dear friends. There were two other “dear friends” who came from the city for the summers and lived quite near us. We knew, and they knew, but even so we never discussed. They were of the higher type, as I felt we were.

Often someone would say, “You seem more like a man than a woman,” and I have always explained that I was brought up with a lot of boys and that their ways had made an unerasable stamp upon my character. That explanation seemed to satisfy them.

We were very happy once more in our united lives and love. I often yielded to the impulse to turn again to my brushes. I did a number of little sketches which I hope may now be giving someone a little pleasure. I have forgotten them all, as I did the “Corot” I did for Juno’s brother.

I had a natural love for the soil and did the farming with the same enthusiasm. We had a fifteen year old boy to do chores, as we had a horse and a cow. Also two pigs.

Juno took charge of things in the house, a task which never appealed to me in the least, while I was out of doors nearly all day until about four o’clock, when we had our games of bridge and tea. I had a wonderful garden, both of flowers and vegetables. There was also a shop where I had a complete set of cabinet tools and a bench to match. I loved doing things with my hands and was quite expert in handling carpenter’s tools. I made little odd pieces of furniture, tables, shelves and the like, and did much repairing about the house and barn. My tools were of the best and I took great pride in keeping them with a razor edge.