During all the time that Cowperwood had been building himself up thus steadily1 the great war of the rebellion had been fought almost to its close. It was now October, 1864. The capture of Mobile and the Battle of the Wilderness2 were fresh memories. Grant was now before Petersburg, and the great general of the South, Lee, was making that last brilliant and hopeless display of his ability as a strategist and a soldier. There had been times — as, for instance, during the long, dreary3 period in which the country was waiting for Vicksburg to fall, for the Army of the Potomac to prove victorious4, when Pennsylvania was invaded by Lee — when stocks fell and commercial conditions were very bad generally. In times like these Cowperwood’s own manipulative ability was taxed to the utmost, and he had to watch every hour to see that his fortune was not destroyed by some unexpected and destructive piece of news.
His personal attitude toward the war, however, and aside from his patriotic6 feeling that the Union ought to be maintained, was that it was destructive and wasteful7. He was by no means so wanting in patriotic emotion and sentiment but that he could feel that the Union, as it had now come to be, spreading its great length from the Atlantic to the Pacific and from the snows of Canada to the Gulf8, was worth while. Since his birth in 1837 he had seen the nation reach that physical growth — barring Alaska — which it now possesses. Not so much earlier than his youth Florida had been added to the Union by purchase from Spain; Mexico, after the unjust war of 1848, had ceded10 Texas and the territory to the West. The boundary disputes between England and the United States in the far Northwest had been finally adjusted. To a man with great social and financial imagination, these facts could not help but be significant; and if they did nothing more, they gave him a sense of the boundless11 commercial possibilities which existed potentially in so vast a realm. His was not the order of speculative12 financial enthusiasm which, in the type known as the “promoter,” sees endless possibilities for gain in every unexplored rivulet13 and prairie reach; but the very vastness of the country suggested possibilities which he hoped might remain undisturbed. A territory covering the length of a whole zone and between two seas, seemed to him to possess potentialities which it could not retain if the States of the South were lost.
At the same time, the freedom of the negro was not a significant point with him. He had observed that race from his boyhood with considerable interest, and had been struck with virtues14 and defects which seemed inherent and which plainly, to him, conditioned their experiences.
He was not at all sure, for instance, that the negroes could be made into anything much more significant than they were. At any rate, it was a long uphill struggle for them, of which many future generations would not witness the conclusion. He had no particular quarrel with the theory that they should be free; he saw no particular reason why the South should not protest vigorously against the destruction of their property and their system. It was too bad that the negroes as slaves should be abused in some instances. He felt sure that that ought to be adjusted in some way; but beyond that he could not see that there was any great ethical15 basis for the contentions16 of their sponsors. The vast majority of men and women, as he could see, were not essentially17 above slavery, even when they had all the guarantees of a constitution formulated18 to prevent it. There was mental slavery, the slavery of the weak mind and the weak body. He followed the contentions of such men as Sumner, Garrison19, Phillips, and Beecher, with considerable interest; but at no time could he 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 polemics20; 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, alas9, 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 patriot5, but as a financier. It was wasteful, pathetic, unfortunate.
The months proceeded apace. A local election intervened and there was a new city treasurer21, a new assessor of taxes, and a new mayor; but Edward Malia Butler continued to have apparently22 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 plebeian23 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 disposition24, her love of attention, her vanity, irritated and at times disgusted Mrs. Cowperwood. She was eighteen now, with a figure which was subtly provocative25. Her manner was boyish, hoydenish26 at times, and although convent-trained, she was inclined to balk27 at restraint in any form. But there was a softness lurking28 in her blue eyes that was most sympathetic and human.
St. Timothy’s and the convent school in Germantown had been the choice of her parents for her education — what they called a good Catholic education. She had learned a great deal about the theory and forms of the Catholic ritual, but she could not understand them. The church, with its tall, dimly radiant windows, its high, white altar, its figure of St. Joseph on one side and the Virgin29 Mary on the other, clothed in golden-starred robes of blue, wearing haloes and carrying scepters, had impressed her greatly. The church as a whole — any Catholic church — was beautiful to look at — soothing30. The altar, during high mass, lit with a half-hundred or more candles, and dignified31 and made impressive by the rich, lacy vestments of the priests and the acolytes32, the impressive needlework and gorgeous colorings of the amice, chasuble, cope, stole, and maniple, took her fancy and held her eye. Let us say there was always lurking in her a sense of grandeur33 coupled with a love of color and a love of love. From the first she was somewhat sex-conscious. She had no desire for accuracy, no desire for precise information. Innate34 sensuousness35 rarely has. It basks37 in sunshine, bathes in color, dwells in a sense of the impressive and the gorgeous, and rests there. Accuracy is not necessary except in the case of aggressive, acquisitive natures, when it manifests itself in a desire to seize. True controlling sensuousness cannot be manifested in the most active dispositions38, nor again in the most accurate.
There is need of defining these statements in so far as they apply to Aileen. It would scarcely be fair to describe her nature as being definitely sensual at this time. It was too rudimentary. Any harvest is of long growth. The confessional, dim on Friday and Saturday evenings, when the church was lighted by but a few lamps, and the priest’s warnings, penances39, and ecclesiastical forgiveness whispered through the narrow lattice, moved her as something subtly pleasing. She was not afraid of her sins. Hell, so definitely set forth40, did not frighten her. Really, it had not laid hold on her conscience. The old women and old men hobbling into church, bowed in prayer, murmuring over their beads41, were objects of curious interest like the wood-carvings in the peculiar42 array of wood-reliefs emphasizing the Stations of the Cross. She herself had liked to confess, particularly when she was fourteen and fifteen, and to listen to the priest’s voice as he admonished43 her with, “Now, my dear child.” A particularly old priest, a French father, who came to hear their confessions44 at school, interested her as being kind and sweet. His forgiveness and blessing45 seemed sincere — better than her prayers, which she went through perfunctorily. And then there was a young priest at St. Timothy’s, Father David, hale and rosy46, with a curl of black hair over his forehead, and an almost jaunty47 way of wearing his priestly hat, who came down the aisle48 Sundays sprinkling holy water with a definite, distinguished49 sweep of the hand, who took her fancy. He heard confessions and now and then she liked to whisper her strange thoughts to him while she actually speculated on what he might privately50 be thinking. She could not, if she tried, associate him with any divine authority. He was too young, too human. There was something a little malicious51, teasing, in the way she delighted to tell him about herself, and then walk demurely52, repentantly out. At St. Agatha’s she had been rather a difficult person to deal with. She was, as the good sisters of the school had readily perceived, too full of life, too active, to be easily controlled. “That Miss Butler,” once observed Sister Constantia, the Mother Superior, to Sister Sempronia, Aileen’s immediate53 mentor54, “is a very spirited girl, you may have a great deal of trouble with her unless you use a good deal of tact55. You may have to coax56 her with little gifts. You will get on better.” So Sister Sempronia had sought to find what Aileen was most interested in, and bribe57 her therewith. Being intensely conscious of her father’s competence58, and vain of her personal superiority, it was not so easy to do. She had wanted to go home occasionally, though; she had wanted to be allowed to wear the sister’s rosary of large beads with its pendent cross of ebony and its silver Christ, and this was held up as a great privilege. For keeping quiet in class, walking softly, and speaking softly — as much as it was in her to do — for not stealing into other girl’s rooms after lights were out, and for abandoning crushes on this and that sympathetic sister, these awards and others, such as walking out in the grounds on Saturday afternoons, being allowed to have all the flowers she wanted, some extra dresses, jewels, etc., were offered. She liked music and the idea of painting, though she had no talent in that direction; and books, novels, interested her, but she could not get them. The rest — grammar, spelling, sewing, church and general history — she loathed59. Deportment — well, there was something in that. She had liked the rather exaggerated curtsies they taught her, and she had often reflected on how she would use them when she reached home.
When she came out into life the little social distinctions which have been indicated began to impress themselves on her, and she wished sincerely that her father would build a better home — a mansion60 — such as those she saw elsewhere, and launch her properly in society. Failing in that, she could think of nothing save clothes, jewels, riding-horses, carriages, and the appropriate changes of costume which were allowed her for these. Her family could not entertain in any distinguished way where they were, and so already, at eighteen, she was beginning to feel the sting of a blighted61 ambition. She was eager for life. How was she to get it?
Her room was a study in the foibles of an eager and ambitious mind. It was full of clothes, beautiful things for all occasions — jewelry62 — which she had small opportunity to wear — shoes, stockings, lingerie, laces. In a crude way she had made a study of perfumes and cosmetics63, though she needed the latter not at all, and these were present in abundance. She was not very orderly, and she loved lavishness64 of display; and her curtains, hangings, table ornaments65, and pictures inclined to gorgeousness, which did not go well with the rest of the house.
Aileen always reminded Cowperwood of a high-stepping horse without a check-rein. He met her at various times, shopping with her mother, out driving with her father, and he was always interested and amused at the affected66, bored tone she assumed before him — the “Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Life is so tiresome67, don’t you know,” when, as a matter of fact, every moment of it was of thrilling interest to her. Cowperwood took her mental measurement exactly. A girl with a high sense of life in her, romantic, full of the thought of love and its possibilities. As he looked at her he had the sense of seeing the best that nature can do when she attempts to produce physical perfection. The thought came to him that some lucky young dog would marry her pretty soon and carry her away; but whoever secured her would have to hold her by affection and subtle flattery and attention if he held her at all.
“The little snip”— she was not at all —“she thinks the sun rises and sets in her father’s pocket,” Lillian observed one day to her husband. “To hear her talk, you’d think they were descended68 from Irish kings. Her pretended interest in art and music amuses me.”
“Oh, don’t be too hard on her,” coaxed69 Cowperwood diplomatically. He already liked Aileen very much. “She plays very well, and she has a good voice.”
“Yes, I know; but she has no real refinement70. How could she have? Look at her father and mother.”
“I don’t see anything so very much the matter with her,” insisted Cowperwood. “She’s bright and good-looking. Of course, she’s only a girl, and a little vain, but she’ll come out of that. She isn’t without sense and force, at that.”
Aileen, as he knew, was most friendly to him. She liked him. She made a point of playing the piano and singing for him in his home, and she sang only when he was there. There was something about his steady, even gait, his stocky body and handsome head, which attracted her. In spite of her vanity and egotism, she felt a little overawed before him at times — keyed up. She seemed to grow gayer and more brilliant in his presence.
The most futile71 thing in this world is any attempt, perhaps, at exact definition of character. All individuals are a bundle of contradictions — none more so than the most capable.
In the case of Aileen Butler it would be quite impossible to give an exact definition. Intelligence, of a raw, crude order she had certainly — also a native force, tamed somewhat by the doctrines72 and conventions of current society, still showed clear at times in an elemental and not entirely73 unattractive way. At this time she was only eighteen years of age — decidedly attractive from the point of view of a man of Frank Cowperwood’s temperament74. She supplied something he had not previously75 known or consciously craved76. Vitality77 and vivacity78. No other woman or girl whom he had ever known had possessed79 so much innate force as she. Her red-gold hair — not so red as decidedly golden with a suggestion of red in it — looped itself in heavy folds about her forehead and sagged80 at the base of her neck. She had a beautiful nose, not sensitive, but straight-cut with small nostril81 openings, and eyes that were big and yet noticeably sensuous36. They were, to him, a pleasing shade of blue-gray-blue, and her toilet, due to her temperament, of course, suggested almost undue82 luxury, the bangles, anklets, ear-rings, and breast-plates of the odalisque, and yet, of course, they were not there. She confessed to him years afterward83 that she would have loved to have stained her nails and painted the palms of her hands with madder-red. Healthy and vigorous, she was chronically84 interested in men — what they would think of her — and how she compared with other women.
The fact that she could ride in a carriage, live in a fine home on Girard Avenue, visit such homes as those of the Cowperwoods and others, was of great weight; and yet, even at this age, she realized that life was more than these things. Many did not have them and lived.
But these facts of wealth and advantage gripped her; and when she sat at the piano and played or rode in her carriage or walked or stood before her mirror, she was conscious of her figure, her charms, what they meant to men, how women envied her. Sometimes she looked at poor, hollow-chested or homely-faced girls and felt sorry for them; at other times she flared85 into inexplicable86 opposition87 to some handsome girl or woman who dared to brazen88 her socially or physically89. There were such girls of the better families who, in Chestnut90 Street, in the expensive shops, or on the drive, on horseback or in carriages, tossed their heads and indicated as well as human motions can that they were better-bred and knew it. When this happened each stared defiantly91 at the other. She wanted ever so much to get up in the world, and yet namby-pamby men of better social station than herself did not attract her at all. She wanted a man. Now and then there was one “something like,” but not entirely, who appealed to her, but most of them were politicians or legislators, acquaintances of her father, and socially nothing at all — and so they wearied and disappointed her. Her father did not know the truly elite92. But Mr. Cowperwood — he seemed so refined, so forceful, and so reserved. She often looked at Mrs. Cowperwood and thought how fortunate she was.
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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wilderness
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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patriot
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| n.爱国者，爱国主义者 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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wasteful
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| adj.（造成）浪费的，挥霍的 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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ceded
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| v.让给，割让，放弃( cede的过去式 ) | |
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boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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rivulet
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| n.小溪，小河 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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ethical
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| adj.伦理的，道德的，合乎道德的 | |
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contentions
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| n.竞争( contention的名词复数 )；争夺；争论；论点 | |
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essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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polemics
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| n.辩论术，辩论法；争论( polemic的名词复数 )；辩论；辩论术；辩论法 | |
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treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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provocative
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hoydenish
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| adj.顽皮的，爱嬉闹的，男孩子气的 | |
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balk
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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acolytes
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| n.助手( acolyte的名词复数 )；随从；新手；（天主教）侍祭 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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sensuousness
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| n.知觉 | |
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sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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basks
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的第三人称单数 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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penances
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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beads
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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mentor
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| n.指导者，良师益友；v.指导 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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competence
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| n.能力，胜任，称职 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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cosmetics
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| n.化妆品 | |
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lavishness
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| n.浪费，过度 | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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chronically
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| ad.长期地 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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elite
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| n.精英阶层；实力集团；adj.杰出的，卓越的 | |
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