that, too. He will really kill
me." Then the astounding alternative--five thousand dollars a
year--came to his mind. Well, why not? His silence gave consent.

"If I were you I wouldn't go up-stairs again to-night," continued
Cowperwood, sternly. "Don't disturb her. She needs rest. Go on
down-town and come and see me to-morrow--or if you want to go back I
will go with you. I want to say to Mrs. Sohlberg what I have said to
you. But remember what I've told you."

"Nau, thank you," replied Sohlberg, feebly. "I will go down-town. Good
night." And he hurried away.

"I'm sorry," said Cowperwood to himself, defensively. "It is too bad,
but it was the only way."

Chapter XXI

A Matter of Tunnels

The question of Sohlberg adjusted thus simply, if brutally, Cowperwood
turned his attention to Mrs. Sohlberg. But there was nothing much to
be done. He explained that he had now completely subdued Aileen and
Sohlberg, that the latter would make no more trouble, that he was going
to pension him, that Aileen would remain permanently quiescent. He
expressed the greatest solicitude for her, but Rita was now sickened of
this tangle. She had loved him, as she thought, but through the rage
of Aileen she saw him in a different light, and she wanted to get away.
His money, plentiful as it was, did not mean as much to her as it might
have meant to some women; it simply spelled luxuries, without which she
could exist if she must. His charm for her had, perhaps, consisted
mostly in the atmosphere of flawless security, which seemed to surround
him--a glittering bubble of romance. That, by one fell attack, was now
burst. He was seen to be quite as other men, subject to the same
storms, the same danger of shipwreck. Only he was a better sailor than
most. She recuperated gradually; left for home; left for Europe;
details too long to be narrated. Sohlberg, after much meditating and
fuming, finally accepted the offer of Cowperwood and returned to
Denmark. Aileen, after a few days of quarreling, in which he agreed to
dispense with Antoinette Nowak, returned home.

Cowperwood was in no wise pleased by this rough denouement. Aileen had
not raised her own attractions in his estimation, and yet, strange to
relate, he was not unsympathetic with her. He had no desire to desert
her as yet, though for some time he had been growing in the feeling
that Rita would have been a much better type of wife for him. But what
he could