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Mrs. Cowperwood came in that afternoon quite solemnly, bearing several changes of linen, a
pair of sheets, some potted meat and a pie. She was not exactly doleful, but Cowperwood
thought that she was tending toward it, largely because of her brooding over his relationship to
Aileen, which he knew that she knew. Something in her manner decided him to speak before
she left; and after asking her how the children were, and listening to her inquiries in regard to
the things that he needed, he said to her, sitting on his single chair while she sat on his bed:
"Lillian, there's something I've been wanting to talk with you about for some time. I should have
done it before, but it's better late than never. I know that you know that there is something
between Aileen Butler and me, and we might as well have it open and aboveboard. It's true I am
very fond of her and she is very devoted to me, and if ever I get out of here I want to arrange it
so that I can marry her. That means that you will have to give me a divorce, if you will; and I
want to talk to you about that now. This can't be so very much of a surprise to you, because you
must have seen this long while that our relationship hasn't been all that it might have been, and
under the circumstances this can't prove such a very great hardship to you--I am sure." He
paused, waiting, for Mrs. Cowperwood at first said nothing.
Her thought, when he first broached this, was that she ought to make some demonstration of
astonishment or wrath: but when she looked into his steady, examining eyes, so free from the
illusion of or interest in demonstrations of any kind, she realized how useless it would be. He
was so utterly matter-of-fact in what seemed to her quite private and secret affairs--very
shameless. She had never been able to understand quite how he could take the subtleties of
life as he did, anyhow. Certain things which she always fancied should be hushed up he spoke
of with the greatest nonchalance. Her ears tingled sometimes at his frankness in disposing of a
social situation; but she thought this must be characteristic of notable men, and so there was
nothing to be said about it. Certain men did as they pleased; society did not seem to be able to
deal with them in any way. Perhaps God would, later--she was not sure. Anyhow, bad as he
was, direct as he was, forceful as he was, he was far more interesting than most of the more
conservative types in whom the social virtues of polite speech and modest thoughts were
seemingly predominate.
"I know," she said, rather peacefully, although with a touch of anger and resentment in her
voice. "I've known all about it all this time. I expected you would say something like this to me
some day. It's a nice reward for all my devotion to you; but it's just like you, Frank. When you
are set on something, nothing can stop you. It wasn't enough that you were getting along so
nicely and had two children whom you ought to love, but you had to take up with this Butler
creature until her name and yours are a by-word throughout the city. I know that she comes to
this prison. I saw her out here one day as I was coming in, and I suppose every one else knows
it by now. She has no sense of decency and she does not care--the wretched, vain thing--but I
would have thought that you would be ashamed, Frank, to go on the way that you have, when
you still have me and the children and your father and mother and when you are certain to have
such a hard fight to get yourself on your feet, as it is. If she had any sense of decency she
would not have anything to do with you--the shameless thing."
Cowperwood looked at his wife with unflinching eyes. He read in her remarks just what his
observation had long since confirmed-- that she was sympathetically out of touch with him. She
was no longer so attractive physically, and intellectually she was not Aileen's equal. Also that
contact with those women who had deigned to grace his home in his greatest hour of prosperity
had proved to him conclusively she was lacking in certain social graces. Aileen was by no
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