Once she had been as fair and engaging as any lovely maid of sixteen, and remembered it well, as did Ettinge.
He had courted her earnestly.
She had a better sense of proportion than her husband.
He, being one of a long line and inheriting wealth, was inclined to give weight and precedence to primogeniture rather than to immediate achievement, even though he himself was active enough commercially.
His wife, however, though as wellborn as himself, was more interested and aware of the changing forces of the day, and inclined to admire such untitled giants as Cowperwood.
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.”