ning-room, an American imitation of
Chippendale and Sheraton for the sitting-room and the bedrooms. There
were a few simple water-colors hung here and there, some bronzes of
Hosmer and Powers, a marble venus by Potter, a now forgotten sculptor,
and other objects of art--nothing of any distinction. Pleasing,
appropriately colored rugs covered the floor. Mrs. Cowperwood was
shocked by the nudity of the Venus which conveyed an atmosphere of
European freedom not common to America; but she said nothing. It was all
harmonious and soothing, and she did not feel herself capable to judge.
Frank knew about these things so much better than she did. Then with
a maid and a man of all work installed, a program of entertaining was
begun on a small scale.

Those who recall the early years of their married life can best realize
the subtle changes which this new condition brought to Frank, for, like
all who accept the hymeneal yoke, he was influenced to a certain extent
by the things with which he surrounded himself. Primarily, from certain
traits of his character, one would have imagined him called to be a
citizen of eminent respectability and worth. He appeared to be an ideal
home man. He delighted to return to his wife in the evenings, leaving
the crowded downtown section where traffic clamored and men hurried.
Here he could feel that he was well-stationed and physically happy in
life. The thought of the dinner-table with candles upon it (his idea);
the thought of Lillian in a trailing gown of pale-blue or green silk--he
liked her in those colors; the thought of a large fireplace flaming with
solid lengths of cord-wood, and Lillian snuggling in his arms, gripped
his immature imagination. As has been said before, he cared nothing for
books, but life, pictures, trees, physical contact--these, in spite of
his shrewd and already gripping financial calculations, held him. To
live richly, joyously, fully--his whole nature craved that.

And Mrs. Cowperwood, in spite of the difference in their years, appeared
to be a fit mate for him at this time. She was once awakened, and for
the time being, clinging, responsive, dreamy. His mood and hers was for
a baby, and in a little while that happy expectation was whispered to
him by her. She had half fancied that her previous barrenness was due to
herself, and was rather surprised and delighted at the proof that it
was not so. It opened new possibilities--a seemingly glorious future of
which she was