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Chapter 54






Before sailing for New York, Cowperwood talked with Tollifer, who demonstrated to him his personal innocence in connection with this development; also that as far as he was concerned, his lips were sealed and would open only to say whatever Cowperwood desired him to say.

Five days later, landing in New York, Cowperwood was met by a brigade of newspapermen with enough inquiries to fill a small catalogue. Was he after more money to buy more London subways, or was it for the purpose of disposing of his remaining American street railway holdings? What paintings had he purchased in London? Was there anything to the story that he had just paid $78, 000 for Turner’s “Rockets and Blue Lights”? And, in connection with paintings, had he agreed to pay a certain artist $20, 000 for his portrait, and on its completion sent the artist $30, 000 instead? And also, by now, what did he think of English business methods?

All of this caused him to realize that while there was more interest in him as a public figure than had ever previously been manifested, as yet there was no trace of scandal in connection with him. Accordingly, he was more inclined to answer the questions, at least as many as it was diplomatically possible for him to answer without injury to himself.

According to him, everything was progressing smoothly in London. In fact, he was justifiably proud, since he expected to have the London Underground electrified and in operation by January of 1905. Also, it would have an $85, 000, 000 capital and one hundred and forty miles of track. And it was also true that he was now building the largest electrical power plant in the world, and when it was completed London would have the finest underground in the world. As to the English, he now asserted that he considered their attitude toward large business projects, such as his, superior to the American attitude; that is, the English appeared to understand the importance of a great constructive program, and when they granted a franchise, it was not for a limited time, but granted in perpetuity, which gave men with large creative purposes an opportunity to build things lasting.

As to paintings, yes, he had purchased several since being in New York last, and those he was bringing back with him, a Watteau, a Sir Joshua Reynolds (portrait of Lady O’Brien), and a Frans Hals. And yes, he had paid the artist in question $30, 000 for his portrait when he needed to give him $20, 000 only. But the artist had returned the $10, 000 to him with the request that he contribute the sum to a charity—which caused a gasp of surprise from the reporters.

The significance of such data as this, blazoned as it was in all of the newspapers, did not fail to impress Aileen, who, under another name, had arrived only two days before. Notwithstanding her anger, she was moved to meditate on the wisdom of her original plan. What was to become of these paintings that he was purchasing? For she recalled that recently he had spoken of the possibility of enlarging the New York Mansion with a view to housing additional art objects. If so, her exposure of him and a threatened divorce suit might force him to change his plans in favor of one other than herself: the same dilemma which some years before she had faced and lost.

But, accepting her threat at its face value, Cowperwood thought it best, during his stay in New York, to make his headquarters at the Waldorf-Astoria instead of the Fifth Avenue residence, and having once settled there, he took up the matter of trying to reach Aileen by telephone, with no success. For she had made up her mind not to allow him to come and discuss his, to her, seemingly inexcusable crime, and she had even gone so far as to request a New York lawyer to call on her. Yet reading the papers, which continued to report his doings, evoked in her, from hour to hour, a change of emotions. For, naturally, she was proud of his success, and yet she was jealous, because she was satisfied that somewhere, lurking in the background, was one of his mistresses—Berenice, no doubt—who was undoubtedly sharing this most iridescent period of his life. For Aileen loved show and glitter. At times she was almost childishly arrested by any startling phase of publicity concerning Cowperwood, good, bad, or indifferent. In fact, one newspaper picture of the immense electrical plant he was building in London so fascinated her as to make her almost forget her ills. On the other hand, when he was savagely attacked in one newspaper article, she could not help resenting it, at the same time that she was moved to attack him herself.

After contemplating the immense variety of opinions and applause which greeted his return, Aileen’s rage became confused with a certain degree of admiration, at which point in her oscillating moods it was that Cowperwood calmly walked into the living room of her suite to find her lying on a chaise longue, the floor about her littered with newspapers which she had obviously been reading. She jumped to her feet on his entrance, trying to arouse in herself her treasured anger as he stood facing her.

“Well, I see you keep up with the news, don’t you, dear? ” he commented, smiling a broad, free smile. “It isn’t bad, is it? ”

“You! ” she almost screamed. “The effrontery! If they only knew you as I do! The hypocrisy of it all! The cruelty! ”

“Now, listen, Aileen, ” he went on, as calmly as he could, “you know, if you stop to think about it, I haven’t injured you in any way. If you’ve read any of these papers, you know I’ve been working almost twenty-four hours a day on this proposition ever since I went to London. As for this man, Tollifer, what better guide could a person have in a city like Paris? If I remember correctly, in the old days you never passed through that city with me without complaining bitterly because I couldn’t spend all my time with you visiting places you considered interesting but which I had no time for. And so, when Tollifer showed up, and was going to Paris anyhow, I thought, since you appeared to like him, that your going there at the same time might give you the opportunity of satisfying your old desire to see Paris without having me about to interfere in any way. And that ’s the only reason for Tollifer, and you know it! ”

“Lies, lies, lies! ” cried Aileen, savagely. “Always lies! But this time they won’t work. At least, I can let the world know what you really are, and how you’ve treated me. The articles about you will read a little differently then, you can bet! ”

“Now, Aileen, ” he interrupted, “just be reasonable. You know that from a material point of view I have never deprived you of anything you wanted, and all along I have been counting on you to take charge of my affairs after I’m gone. This house here, of which you certainly are proud. As you know, I’ve been planning to add to it in a way that will make it even more beautiful. For some time now I’ve wanted to buy the house next door, in order to enlarge the palm room for you and make an additional gallery for pictures and statuary. I was intending to leave it all in your hands, to express yourself as you pleased.”

But true to his natural secretiveness, he failed to state that before leaving London he had already purchased the house in question.

“Why not get Pyne and let him submit some plans, ” he continued, “and we’ll look them over.”

“Oh, yes, ” said Aileen, wistfully, “that would be interesting.”

But Cowperwood did not hesitate. “As for my life being separate from yours, Aileen, that’s a ridiculous idea, really. In the first place, we’ve been too long together, and although we have had our troubles, here we are. Outside of my work, which makes strenuous demands on me physically, my personal life is nothing. Besides, I am no longer young, and if you care to make friends with me again, once I get this London underground off my hands, I’ll really be glad to return to New York and live with you here.”

“Do you mean me with six others? ” she asked, sarcastically.

“No, I mean just what I said. I should think you could see that I may have to retire some day. If so, it will be for peace and quiet, and not more work.”

Aileen was now getting ready to make an additional ironic comment, but looking up at him she caught a particularly weary and almost depressed look on his face, a look such as never she had previously seen, and this caused her mood to alter from one of criticism to one of unexpected sympathy. Perhaps he was tired and needed rest, for he was getting along in years and had so much to do: one of the kindest thoughts she had experienced in connection with him for years.

At this point, however, her maid came in to tell her that Mr. Robertson, her lawyer, was on the telephone, at which she stirred uneasily, and then said, rather defiantly:

“Tell him I’ve gone out! ”

The import of this was not lost on Cowperwood.

“Have you said anything to anybody about all this? ” he asked her.

“No, I have not, ” she replied.

“Good! ” said Cowperwood, genially.

And after explaining that various financial matters made it necessary for him to go to Chicago for a few days, he succeeded in extracting from her a promise not to do anything until he returned. For by that time, as he now argued, he thought they could work things out to their mutual satisfaction.

Since she seemed satisfied to let the matter rest for the present, he took out his watch and remarked that he had just enough time to catch the train; he would see her again on his return. And, calmed down considerably by this time, she accompanied him to the door, and then returned to consult the newspapers which previously she had been reading.


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