The Financier [202]
replied Mrs. Butler, quite unconscious of the joke.
"No doubt of it, mother," replied Callum. "Real brain-food. Let's feed some to Norah."
"You'd better eat some yourself, smarty. My, but you're gay! I suppose you're going out to see somebody. That's why."
"Right you are, Norah. Smart girl, you. Five or six. Ten to fifteen minutes each. I'd call on you if you were nicer."
"You would if you got the chance," mocked Norah. "I'd have you know I wouldn't let you. I'd feel very bad if I couldn't get somebody better than you."
"As good as, you mean," corrected Callum.
"Children, children!" interpolated Mrs. Butler, calmly, looking about for old John, the servant. "You'll be losin' your tempers in a minute. Hush now. Here comes your father. Where's Aileen?"
Butler walked heavily in and took his seat.
John, the servant, appeared bearing a platter of beans among other things, and Mrs. Butler asked him to send some one to call Aileen.
"It's gettin' colder, I'm thinkin'," said Butler, by way of conversation, and eyeing Aileen's empty chair. She would come soon now--his heavy problem. He had been very tactful these last two months--avoiding any reference to Cowperwood in so far as he could help in her presence.
"It's colder," remarked Owen, "much colder. We'll soon see real winter now."
Old John began to offer the various dishes in order; but when all had been served Aileen had not yet come.
"See where Aileen is, John," observed Mrs. Butler, interestedly. "The meal will be gettin' cold."
Old John returned with the news that Aileen was not in her room.
"Sure she must be somewhere," commented Mrs. Butler, only slightly perplexed. "She'll be comin', though, never mind, if she wants to. She knows it's meal-time."
The conversation drifted from a new water-works that was being planned to the new city hall, then nearing completion; Cowperwood's financial and social troubles, and the state of the stock market generally; a new gold-mine in Arizona; the departure of Mrs. Mollenhauer the following Tuesday for Europe, with appropriate comments by Norah and Callum; and a Christmas ball that was going to be given for charity.
"Aileen'll be wantin' to go to that," commented Mrs. Butler.
"I'm going, you bet," put in Norah.
"Who's going to take you?" asked Callum.
"That's my affair, mister," she replied, smartly.
The meal was over, and Mrs. Butler strolled up to Aileen's room to see why she had not come down to dinner. Butler entered his den, wishing so much that he could take his wife into his confidence concerning all that was worrying him. On his desk, as he sat down and turned up the light, he saw the note. He recognized Aileen's handwriting at once. What could she mean by writing him? A sense of the untoward came to him, and he tore it open slowly, and, putting on his glasses, contemplated it solemnly.
So Aileen was gone. The old man stared at each word as if it had been written in fire. She said she had not gone with Cowperwood. It was possible, just the same, that he had run away from Philadelphia and taken her with him. This was the last straw. This ended it. Aileen lured away from home--to where--to what? Butler could scarcely believe, though, that Cowperwood had tempted her to do this. He had too much at stake; it would involve his own and Butler's families. The papers would be certain to get it quickly. He got up, crumpling the paper in his hand, and turned about at a noise. His wife was coming in. He pulled himself together and shoved the letter in his pocket.
"Aileen's not in her room," she said, curiously. "She didn't say anything to you about going out, did she?"
"No," he replied, truthfully, wondering how soon he should have to tell his wife.
"That's odd," observed Mrs. Butler, doubtfully. "She must have gone out after somethin'. It's a wonder she wouldn't tell somebody."
Butler gave no sign. He dared not. "She'll be back," he said, more in order to gain time than anything else. He was sorry to have to pretend. Mrs. Butler
"No doubt of it, mother," replied Callum. "Real brain-food. Let's feed some to Norah."
"You'd better eat some yourself, smarty. My, but you're gay! I suppose you're going out to see somebody. That's why."
"Right you are, Norah. Smart girl, you. Five or six. Ten to fifteen minutes each. I'd call on you if you were nicer."
"You would if you got the chance," mocked Norah. "I'd have you know I wouldn't let you. I'd feel very bad if I couldn't get somebody better than you."
"As good as, you mean," corrected Callum.
"Children, children!" interpolated Mrs. Butler, calmly, looking about for old John, the servant. "You'll be losin' your tempers in a minute. Hush now. Here comes your father. Where's Aileen?"
Butler walked heavily in and took his seat.
John, the servant, appeared bearing a platter of beans among other things, and Mrs. Butler asked him to send some one to call Aileen.
"It's gettin' colder, I'm thinkin'," said Butler, by way of conversation, and eyeing Aileen's empty chair. She would come soon now--his heavy problem. He had been very tactful these last two months--avoiding any reference to Cowperwood in so far as he could help in her presence.
"It's colder," remarked Owen, "much colder. We'll soon see real winter now."
Old John began to offer the various dishes in order; but when all had been served Aileen had not yet come.
"See where Aileen is, John," observed Mrs. Butler, interestedly. "The meal will be gettin' cold."
Old John returned with the news that Aileen was not in her room.
"Sure she must be somewhere," commented Mrs. Butler, only slightly perplexed. "She'll be comin', though, never mind, if she wants to. She knows it's meal-time."
The conversation drifted from a new water-works that was being planned to the new city hall, then nearing completion; Cowperwood's financial and social troubles, and the state of the stock market generally; a new gold-mine in Arizona; the departure of Mrs. Mollenhauer the following Tuesday for Europe, with appropriate comments by Norah and Callum; and a Christmas ball that was going to be given for charity.
"Aileen'll be wantin' to go to that," commented Mrs. Butler.
"I'm going, you bet," put in Norah.
"Who's going to take you?" asked Callum.
"That's my affair, mister," she replied, smartly.
The meal was over, and Mrs. Butler strolled up to Aileen's room to see why she had not come down to dinner. Butler entered his den, wishing so much that he could take his wife into his confidence concerning all that was worrying him. On his desk, as he sat down and turned up the light, he saw the note. He recognized Aileen's handwriting at once. What could she mean by writing him? A sense of the untoward came to him, and he tore it open slowly, and, putting on his glasses, contemplated it solemnly.
So Aileen was gone. The old man stared at each word as if it had been written in fire. She said she had not gone with Cowperwood. It was possible, just the same, that he had run away from Philadelphia and taken her with him. This was the last straw. This ended it. Aileen lured away from home--to where--to what? Butler could scarcely believe, though, that Cowperwood had tempted her to do this. He had too much at stake; it would involve his own and Butler's families. The papers would be certain to get it quickly. He got up, crumpling the paper in his hand, and turned about at a noise. His wife was coming in. He pulled himself together and shoved the letter in his pocket.
"Aileen's not in her room," she said, curiously. "She didn't say anything to you about going out, did she?"
"No," he replied, truthfully, wondering how soon he should have to tell his wife.
"That's odd," observed Mrs. Butler, doubtfully. "She must have gone out after somethin'. It's a wonder she wouldn't tell somebody."
Butler gave no sign. He dared not. "She'll be back," he said, more in order to gain time than anything else. He was sorry to have to pretend. Mrs. Butler