re's Aileen?"

Butler walked heavily in and took his seat.

John, the servant, appeared bearing a platter of beans among other
things, and Mrs. Butler asked him to send some one to call Aileen.

"It's gettin' colder, I'm thinkin'," said Butler, by way of
conversation, and eyeing Aileen's empty chair. She would come soon
now--his heavy problem. He had been very tactful these last two
months--avoiding any reference to Cowperwood in so far as he could help
in her presence.

"It's colder," remarked Owen, "much colder. We'll soon see real winter
now."

Old John began to offer the various dishes in order; but when all had
been served Aileen had not yet come.

"See where Aileen is, John," observed Mrs. Butler, interestedly. "The
meal will be gettin' cold."

Old John returned with the news that Aileen was not in her room.

"Sure she must be somewhere," commented Mrs. Butler, only slightly
perplexed. "She'll be comin', though, never mind, if she wants to. She
knows it's meal-time."

The conversation drifted from a new water-works that was being planned
to the new city hall, then nearing completion; Cowperwood's financial
and social troubles, and the state of the stock market generally; a new
gold-mine in Arizona; the departure of Mrs. Mollenhauer the following
Tuesday for Europe, with appropriate comments by Norah and Callum; and a
Christmas ball that was going to be given for charity.

"Aileen'll be wantin' to go to that," commented Mrs. Butler.

"I'm going, you bet," put in Norah.

"Who's going to take you?" asked Callum.

"That's my affair, mister," she replied, smartly.

The meal was over, and Mrs. Butler strolled up to Aileen's room to see
why she had not come down to dinner. Butler entered his den, wishing so
much that he could take his wife into his confidence concerning all that
was worrying him. On his desk, as he sat down and turned up the light,
he saw the note. He recognized Aileen's handwriting at once. What could
she mean by writing him? A sense of the untoward came to him, and
he tore it open slowly, and, putting on his glasses, contemplated it
solemnly.

So Aileen was gone. The old man stared at each word as if it had been
written in fire. She said she had not gone with Cowperwood. It was
possible, just the same, that he had run away from Philadelphia and
taken her with him. This was the last straw. This ended it. Aileen
lured away from home--to where--to what? Butler could scarcely believe,
t