she felt him to be. Once he had gone, and the door was closed, she went over to her mirror, and after gazing into it quite mournfully and dabbing her cheeks with a little rouge—in case Berenice should come in—she took out a brandy bottle which she kept in a locked traveling bag, and poured herself a small drink.
Chapter 25
The following week end found both of the Cowperwoods in the midst of an interesting group as Lord Haddonfield’s guests at Beriton Manor. This was, in truth, a distinguished pile of sixteenth century English architecture, at the southeast corner of Hardown Heath, and the center of a well-preserved patrimony. Approaching it from the northwest was the bleak, almost sea-like heath itself, with its rolling green expanses which remained, after hundreds of years, historically defiant of the plow, the sower, and the builder. Its chief value, to the rich as well as the poor, was the free range it provided for the hare, the deer, and other game, and the hunting parties, with their mounts and hounds and red-coated riders. To the southwest, in which direction the manor faced, were wooded slopes and fields, in the center of which lay Little Beriton, a small thatched market town, giving the impression of a hospitable countryside.
Haddonfield, who met the Cowperwoods at Beriton Station, was the same sophisticated, cheerful individual of five years before. Because of pleasant memories, he was delighted to see them, and while showing the really impressive lawns and courtyards, he remarked to Aileen: “I’ve been thinking, Mrs. Cowperwood, the heath is likely to prove a sober outlook for you and your husband. So I’m giving you rooms overlooking the garden. There’s tea now in the drawing room, if you’re tired after the journey.”
In spite of her splendid mansion and many servants in New York, and the really much inferior wealth of this man, Aileen, for the moment, at least, was convinced that this was much more desirable. Oh, to have such a place as this, with the social security and connections of this man! Not to have to struggle any more. Forever to be at peace. On the other hand, while Cowperwood’s mood welcomed a scene such as this, he was not overawed or even impressed by either title or unearned increment. He had created wealth and fame for himself.
The guests of Lord Haddonfield for this week end were varied, but distinguished. From London, the day before, had come Sir Charles Stoneledge, an actor of position and fame in the London theatrical world, but a stagey and affected individual who seized every opportunity to visit aristocratic friends or acquaintances. He had brought with him Miss Constance Hathaway, an actress then playing in the popular success,
By way of contrast, there were Lord and Lady Ettinge, he rather prominent in railway and shipping interests —a large, florid, dictatorial man, inclined to drink heavily and, when sufficiently in his cups, genial in a limited way. When cold sober, he was given to sharp
Also present were Lord and Lady Bosvike, both young and smart and very popular. They were clever at all sports, enjoyed gambling and the races, and were valuable in any gathering because of their enthusiasm and gaiety. Secretly they laughed at Ettinge and his wife, though at the same time they valued their position and liberately set themselves out to be agreeable to them.
A really important guest—decidedly so in the eyes of Haddonfield and Ettinge—was Abington Scarr. A man of rather dubious origin—no title, no family—nevertheless he was making quite a financial stir at this time. For one thing, in the past four years, he had been successful in organizing a cattle-raising company in Brazil. The profits from this were already yielding his investors a handsome return. He was now interested in sheep-raising in Africa, where, by reason of almost unheard-of concessions from the government and the methods he had devised for reducing costs and finding markets, he was looked upon as one who might shortly come to be a millionaire. The shrewdest criticism of his ventures on the part of those who were inclined to doubt had not yet developed anything seriously inimical to his claims. Haddonfield, as well as Ettinge, was impressed by his success, but at the same time both were wary of following him. They did speculate in some of his shares but jumped in and out quickly. One thing that Scarr was seeking to promote at this time—but with less success than in the case of most of his earlier ventures—was the Baker Street & Waterloo Line, a new London underground, for which he had secured a franchise from Parliament. And it was in connection with this that the unexpected appearance of Cowperwood interested him.
Because of Aileen’s determination to make an elaborate toilet, the Cowperwoods were late in coming down to dinner. When they entered the drawing room, most of the other guests had assembled and were somewhat annoyed at having to wait. Ettinge, in particular, had decided to pay no great attention to the Cowperwoods. But when they appeared, and Haddonfield called out a hearty welcome, the others turned at once, resumed their amiability and took an unaffected interest in the Americans. Ettinge, slouching to a standing position and bowing stiffly as he was introduced, nevertheless studied Cowperwood intently. And Lady Ettinge, who had been following the recent English comments on his affairs, decided at once that, her husband excepted, Cowperwood was the leading personality at this gathering. Instinctively, she forgave him for Aileen, judging that he had married young and later philosophically decided to make the best of an unfortunate union. As for Scarr, he was intelligent enough to realize that he was in the presence of a master in his own world.
A little ill at ease after her long period of neglect in New York, Aileen did her best to appear natural, yet succeeded only in being overcordial and almost eager, as she smiled at everyone. She made remarks which established in the minds of all that she was quite uncertain of herself. Cowperwood noted it, but decided that, after all, he could manage for her. And, with his usual diplomacy, he addressed himself to Lady Ettinge as the oldest and, plainly, the most significant woman guest.
“I am rather new to English country life,” he said, quite simply, “but I must say, even the little glimpse I’ve had of it this afternoon quite justifies the admiration which is bestowed upon it.”
“Indeed!” said Lady Ettinge, a little curious as to his tastes and temperament. “You find it as engaging as all that?”
“Yes, and I think I can explain why. It is the source of what at present is best in my own country.” He emphasized the words “at present,” as she noted. “The culture of Italy,” he went on, “we can appreciate as that of a people entirely different from us; and the same, I think, is true of France and Germany. But here we recognize naturally, and with sympathy, the sources of our own culture and development, even those of us who are not wholly of English extraction.”
“You sound almost too kind to England,” said Lady Ettinge. “Are you of English descent?”
“Yes, my parents were Quakers. I was brought up in full knowledge of the simplicity of the English Quakers.”
“Not all Americans, I fear, are so cordial.”
“Mr. Cowperwood can speak with knowledge of any country,” said Lord Haddonfield, drawing near, “for he has spent a fortune and a great many years in assembling the art of all of them.”
“My collection is very modest,” said Cowperwood. “I look upon it merely as a beginning.”
“And this art collection is housed in one of the most beautiful museums I have ever visited,” continued Lord Haddonfield, addressing Lady Ettinge. “It is in Mr. Cowperwood’s home in New York.”
“I had the pleasure of hearing a discussion of your collection when I was last in New York, Mr. Cowperwood,” interjected Stoneledge. “Is it true that you are here to add to it? I believe I read something of the sort the other day.”
“Unfounded rumour,” replied Cowperwood. “I am not collecting anything at the moment but impressions. I’m merely on my way to the Continent.”
