e see that the problem was a vital one for him. He did
not care to be a soldier or an officer of soldiers; he had no gift for
polemics; his mind was not of the disputatious order--not even in
the realm of finance. He was concerned only to see what was of vast
advantage to him, and to devote all his attention to that. This
fratricidal war in the nation could not help him. It really delayed, he
thought, the true commercial and financial adjustment of the country,
and he hoped that it would soon end. He was not of those who complained
bitterly of the excessive war taxes, though he knew them to be trying to
many. Some of the stories of death and disaster moved him greatly; but,
alas, they were among the unaccountable fortunes of life, and could
not be remedied by him. So he had gone his way day by day, watching
the coming in and the departing of troops, seeing the bands of dirty,
disheveled, gaunt, sickly men returning from the fields and hospitals;
and all he could do was to feel sorry. This war was not for him. He had
taken no part in it, and he felt sure that he could only rejoice in
its conclusion--not as a patriot, but as a financier. It was wasteful,
pathetic, unfortunate.

The months proceeded apace. A local election intervened and there was a
new city treasurer, a new assessor of taxes, and a new mayor; but Edward
Malia Butler continued to have apparently the same influence as before.
The Butlers and the Cowperwoods had become quite friendly. Mrs. Butler
rather liked Lillian, though they were of different religious beliefs;
and they went driving or shopping together, the younger woman a little
critical and ashamed of the elder because of her poor grammar, her
Irish accent, her plebeian tastes--as though the Wiggins had not been as
plebeian as any. On the other hand the old lady, as she was compelled to
admit, was good-natured and good-hearted. She loved to give, since she
had plenty, and sent presents here and there to Lillian, the children,
and others. "Now youse must come over and take dinner with us"--the
Butlers had arrived at the evening-dinner period--or "Youse must come
drive with me to-morrow."

"Aileen, God bless her, is such a foine girl," or "Norah, the darlin',
is sick the day."

But Aileen, her airs, her aggressive disposition, her love of attention,
her vanity, irritated and at times disgusted Mrs. Cowperwood. She was
eighteen now, with a figure which was subtly provocative. Her manner
was boyish, h