ommented Mr. Tiernan.

And so they went peacefully home.

Chapter XXXVII

Aileen's Revenge

The interesting Polk Lynde, rising one morning, decided that his affair
with Aileen, sympathetic as it was, must culminate in the one fashion
satisfactory to him here and now--this day, if possible, or the next.
Since the luncheon some considerable time had elapsed, and although he
had tried to seek her out in various ways, Aileen, owing to a certain
feeling that she must think and not jeopardize her future, had evaded
him. She realized well enough that she was at the turning of the
balance, now that opportunity was knocking so loudly at her door, and
she was exceedingly coy and distrait. In spite of herself the old grip
of Cowperwood was over her--the conviction that he was such a
tremendous figure in the world--and this made her strangely disturbed,
nebulous, and meditative. Another type of woman, having troubled as
much as she had done, would have made short work of it, particularly
since the details in regard to Mrs. Hand had been added. Not so
Aileen. She could not quite forget the early vows and promises
exchanged between them, nor conquer the often-fractured illusions that
he might still behave himself.

On the other hand, Polk Lynde, marauder, social adventurer, a bucaneer
of the affections, was not so easily to be put aside, delayed, and
gainsaid. Not unlike Cowperwood, he was a man of real force, and his
methods, in so far as women were concerned, were even more daring.
Long trifling with the sex had taught him that they were coy,
uncertain, foolishly inconsistent in their moods, even with regard to
what they most desired. If one contemplated victory, it had frequently
to be taken with an iron hand.

From this attitude on his part had sprung his rather dark fame. Aileen
felt it on the day that she took lunch with him. His solemn, dark eyes
were treacherously sweet. She felt as if she might be paving the way
for some situation in which she would find herself helpless before his
sudden mood--and yet she had come.

But Lynde, meditating Aileen's delay, had this day decided that he
should get a definite decision, and that it should be favorable. He
called her up at ten in the morning and chafed her concerning her
indecision and changeable moods. He wanted to know whether she would
not come and see the paintings at his friend's studio--whether she
could not make up her mind to come to a barn-dance wh