o much of that, are you, Aileen?" he questioned
one evening, watching her drink down a tumbler of whisky and water as
she sat contemplating a pattern of needlework with which the table was
ornamented.

"Certainly I'm not," she replied, irritably, a little flushed and thick
of tongue. "Why do you ask?" She herself had been wondering whether in
the course of time it might not have a depreciating effect on her
complexion. This was the only thing that still concerned her--her
beauty.

"Well, I see you have that bottle in your room all the time. I was
wondering if you might not be forgetting how much you are using it."

Because she was so sensitive he was trying to be tactful.

"Well," she answered, crossly, "what if I am? It wouldn't make any
particular difference if I did. I might as well drink as do some other
things that are done."

It was a kind of satisfaction to her to bait him in this way. His
inquiry, being a proof of continued interest on his part, was of some
value. At least he was not entirely indifferent to her.

"I wish you wouldn't talk that way, Aileen," he replied. "I have no
objection to your drinking some. I don't suppose it makes any
difference to you now whether I object or not. But you are too
good-looking, too well set up physically, to begin that. You don't
need it, and it's such a short road to hell. Your state isn't so bad.
Good heavens! many another woman has been in your position. I'm not
going to leave you unless you want to leave me. I've told you that
over and over. I'm just sorry people change--we all do. I suppose
I've changed some, but that's no reason for your letting yourself go to
pieces. I wish you wouldn't be desperate about this business. It may
come out better than you think in the long run."

He was merely talking to console her.

"Oh! oh! oh!" Aileen suddenly began to rock and cry in a foolish
drunken way, as though her heart would break, and Cowperwood got up.
He was horrified after a fashion.

"Oh, don't come near me!" Aileen suddenly exclaimed, sobering in an
equally strange way. "I know why you come. I know how much you care
about me or my looks. Don't you worry whether I drink or not. I'll
drink if I please, or do anything else if I choose. If it helps me over
my difficulties, that's my business, not yours," and in defiance she
prepared another glass and drank it.

Cowperwood shook his head, looking at her steadily and sorrowfully.
"It's too bad