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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 went out, and he closed the door.
Then he took out the letter and read it again. The girl was crazy. She was doing an absolutely
wild, inhuman, senseless thing. Where could she go, except to Cowperwood? She was on the
verge of a public scandal, and this would produce it. There was just one thing to do as far as he
could see. Cowperwood, if he were still in Philadelphia, would know. He would go to
him--threaten, cajole, actually destroy him, if necessary. Aileen must come back. She need not
go to Europe, perhaps, but she must come back and behave herself at least until Cowperwood
could legitimately marry her. That was all he could expect now. She would have to wait, and
some day perhaps he could bring himself to accept her wretched proposition. Horrible thought!
It would kill her mother, disgrace her sister. He got up, took down his hat, put on his overcoat,
and started out.
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