whole tarnished and troubled career she was very unhappy.

"Hell!" Lynde had repeated, irritably, "stay if you want to. I'll not
be trying to over-persuade you--depend on that."

They quarreled still further over this matter, and, though they
eventually made up, both sensed the drift toward an ultimately
unsatisfactory conclusion.

It was one morning not long after this that Cowperwood, feeling in a
genial mood over his affairs, came into Aileen's room, as he still did
on occasions, to finish dressing and pass the time of day.

"Well," he observed, gaily, as he stood before the mirror adjusting his
collar and tie, "how are you and Lynde getting along these
days--nicely?"

"Oh, you go to the devil!" replied Aileen, flaring up and struggling
with her divided feelings, which pained her constantly. "If it hadn't
been for you there wouldn't be any chance for your smarty
'how-am-I-getting-alongs.' I am getting along all
right--fine--regardless of anything you may think. He's as good a man
as you are any day, and better. I like him. At least he's fond of me,
and that's more than you are. Why should you care what I do? You
don't, so why talk about it? I want you to let me alone."

"Aileen, Aileen, how you carry on! Don't flare up so. I meant nothing
by it. I'm sorry as much for myself as for you. I've told you I'm not
jealous. You think I'm critical. I'm not anything of the kind. I
know how you feel. That's all very good."

"Oh yes, yes," she replied. "Well, you can keep your feelings to
yourself. Go to the devil! Go to the devil, I tell you!" Her eyes
blazed.

He stood now, fully dressed, in the center of the rug before her, and
Aileen looked at him, keen, valiant, handsome--her old Frank. Once
again she regretted her nominal faithlessness, and raged at him in her
heart for his indifference. "You dog," she was about to add, "you have
no heart!" but she changed her mind. Her throat tightened and her eyes
filled. She wanted to run to him and say: "Oh, Frank, don't you
understand how it all is, how it all came about? Won't you love me
again--can't you?" But she restrained herself. It seemed to her that
he might understand--that he would, in fact--but that he would never
again be faithful, anyhow. And she would so gladly have discarded
Lynde and any and all men if he would only have said the word, would
only have really and sincerely wished her to do so.

It was one day not long after their morning q