her thoughts, for she did not know what all the conferring of the night
before meant. Frank was occasionally troubled by financial storms, but
they did not see to harm him.

"Lay it on the table in the library, Annie. I'll get it."

She thought it was some social note.

In a little while (such was her deliberate way), she put down her
sprinkling-pot and went into the library. There it was lying on the
green leather sheepskin which constituted a part of the ornamentation
of the large library table. She picked it up, glanced at it curiously
because it was on cheap paper, and then opened it. Her face paled
slightly as she read it; and then her hand trembled--not much. Hers
was not a soul that ever loved passionately, hence she could not suffer
passionately. She was hurt, disgusted, enraged for the moment, and
frightened; but she was not broken in spirit entirely. Thirteen years
of life with Frank Cowperwood had taught her a number of things. He was
selfish, she knew now, self-centered, and not as much charmed by her as
he had been. The fear she had originally felt as to the effect of her
preponderance of years had been to some extent justified by the lapse
of time. Frank did not love her as he had--he had not for some time; she
had felt it. What was it?--she had asked herself at times--almost, who
was it? Business was engrossing him so.

Finance was his master. Did this mean the end of her regime, she
queried. Would he cast her off? Where would she go? What would she do?
She was not helpless, of course, for she had money of her own which
he was manipulating for her. Who was this other woman? Was she young,
beautiful, of any social position? Was it--? Suddenly she stopped. Was
it? Could it be, by any chance--her mouth opened--Aileen Butler?

She stood still, staring at this letter, for she could scarcely
countenance her own thought. She had observed often, in spite of all
their caution, how friendly Aileen had been to him and he to her. He
liked her; he never lost a chance to defend her. Lillian had thought of
them at times as being curiously suited to each other temperamentally.
He liked young people. But, of course, he was married, and Aileen was
infinitely beneath him socially, and he had two children and herself.
And his social and financial position was so fixed and stable that he
did not dare trifle with it. Still she paused; for forty years and two
children, and some slight wrinkles, and the suspicion that we m