a sense of grandeur,
largely in relation to himself and his affairs; and his temperament was
essentially material and vital. Something kept telling him that whatever
his present state he must yet grow to be a significant personage, one
whose fame would be heralded the world over--who must try, try, try. It
was not given all men to see far or to do brilliantly; but to him it
was given, and he must be what he was cut out to be. There was no more
escaping the greatness that was inherent in him than there was for so
many others the littleness that was in them.

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