uarrel in her bedroom that
Cowperwood broached the matter of living in New York to Aileen,
pointing out that thereby his art-collection, which was growing
constantly, might be more suitably housed, and that it would give her a
second opportunity to enter social life.

"So that you can get rid of me out here," commented Aileen, little
knowing of Berenice Fleming.

"Not at all," replied Cowperwood, sweetly. "You see how things are.
There's no chance of our getting into Chicago society. There's too much
financial opposition against me here. If we had a big house in New
York, such as I would build, it would be an introduction in itself.
After all, these Chicagoans aren't even a snapper on the real society
whip. It's the Easterners who set the pace, and the New-Yorkers most
of all. If you want to say the word, I can sell this place and we can
live down there, part of the time, anyhow. I could spend as much of my
time with you there as I have been doing here--perhaps more."

Because of her soul of vanity Aileen's mind ran forward in spite of
herself to the wider opportunities which his words suggested. This
house had become a nightmare to her--a place of neglect and bad
memories. Here she had fought with Rita Sohlberg; here she had seen
society come for a very little while only to disappear; here she had
waited this long time for the renewal of Cowperwood's love, which was
now obviously never to be restored in its original glamour. As he
spoke she looked at him quizzically, almost sadly in her great doubt.
At the same time she could not help reflecting that in New York where
money counted for so much, and with Cowperwood's great and growing
wealth and prestige behind her, she might hope to find herself socially
at last. "Nothing venture, nothing have" had always been her motto,
nailed to her mast, though her equipment for the life she now craved
had never been more than the veriest make-believe--painted wood and
tinsel. Vain, radiant, hopeful Aileen! Yet how was she to know?

"Very well," she observed, finally. "Do as you like. I can live down
there as well as I can here, I presume--alone."

Cowperwood knew the nature of her longings. He knew what was running
in her mind, and how futile were her dreams. Life had taught him how
fortuitous must be the circumstances which could enable a woman of
Aileen's handicaps and defects to enter that cold upper world. Yet for
all the courage of him, for the very life of