Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
“Don’t talk, honey,” he said. “I know what you need.” She had been so
used to receiving money from her father and mother in comfortable
amounts from time to time that she thought nothing of it. Frank loved
her so much that it made everything right between them. She softened in
her mood and they discussed the matter of letters, reaching the
conclusion that a private messenger would be safest. When finally they
parted, Aileen, from being sunk in the depths by his uncertain
attitude, was now once more on the heights. She decided that he did
love her, and went away smiling. She had her Frank to fall back on—she
would teach her father. Cowperwood shook his head, following her with
his eyes. She represented an additional burden, but give her up, he
certainly could not. Tear the veil from this illusion of affection and
make her feel so wretched when he cared for her so much? No. There was
really nothing for him to do but what he had done. After all, he
reflected, it might not work out so badly. Any detective work that
Butler might choose to do would prove that she had not run to him. If
at any moment it became necessary to bring common sense into play to
save the situation from a deadly climax, he could have the Butlers
secretly informed as to Aileen’s whereabouts. That would show he had
little to do with it, and they could try to persuade Aileen to come
home again. Good might result—one could not tell. He would deal with
the evils as they arose. He drove quickly back to his office, and
Aileen returned to her home determined to put her plan into action. Her
father had given her some little time in which to decide—possibly he
would give her longer—but she would not wait. Having always had her
wish granted in everything, she could not understand why she was not to
have her way this time. It was about five o’clock now. She would wait
until all the members of the family were comfortably seated at the
dinner-table, which would be about seven o’clock, and then slip out.
On arriving home, however, she was greeted by an unexpected reason for
suspending action. This was the presence of a certain Mr. and Mrs.
Steinmetz—the former a well-known engineer who drew the plans for many
of the works which Butler undertook. It was the day before
Thanksgiving, and they were eager to have Aileen and Norah accompany
them for a fortnight’s stay at their new home in West Chester—a
structure concerning the charm of which Aileen had heard much. They
were exceedingly agreeable people—comparatively young and surrounded by
a coterie of interesting friends. Aileen decided to delay her flight
and go. Her father was most cordial. The presence and invitation of the
Steinmetzes was as much a relief to him as it was to Aileen. West
Chester being forty miles from Philadelphia, it was unlikely that
Aileen would attempt to meet Cowperwood while there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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