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Why
,
in
the
name
of
all
the
saints
,
was
n't
this
house
good
enough
for
them
?
"
Why
do
n't
you
people
quit
fussing
at
the
table
?
"
observed
Callum
,
a
likely
youth
,
with
black
hair
laid
smoothly
over
his
forehead
in
a
long
,
distinguished
layer
reaching
from
his
left
to
close
to
his
right
ear
,
and
his
upper
lip
carrying
a
short
,
crisp
mustache
.
His
nose
was
short
and
retrousse
,
and
his
ears
were
rather
prominent
;
but
he
was
bright
and
attractive
.
He
and
Owen
both
realized
that
the
house
was
old
and
poorly
arranged
;
but
their
father
and
mother
liked
it
,
and
business
sense
and
family
peace
dictated
silence
on
this
score
.
"
Well
,
I
think
it
's
mean
to
have
to
live
in
this
old
place
when
people
not
one-fourth
as
good
as
we
are
are
living
in
better
ones
.
The
Cowperwoods
--
why
,
even
the
Cowperwoods
--
"
"
Yes
,
the
Cowperwoods
!
What
about
the
Cowperwoods
?
"
demanded
Butler
,
turning
squarely
to
Aileen
--
she
was
sitting
beside
him
--
-
his
big
,
red
face
glowing
.
"
Why
,
even
they
have
a
better
house
than
we
have
,
and
he
's
merely
an
agent
of
yours
.
"
"
The
Cowperwoods
!
The
Cowperwoods
!
I
'll
not
have
any
talk
about
the
Cowperwoods
.
I
'm
not
takin
'
my
rules
from
the
Cowperwoods
.
Suppose
they
have
a
fine
house
,
what
of
it
?
My
house
is
my
house
.
I
want
to
live
here
.
I
've
lived
here
too
long
to
be
pickin
'
up
and
movin
'
away
.
If
you
do
n't
like
it
you
know
what
else
you
can
do
.
Move
if
you
want
to
.
I
'll
not
move
.
"
It
was
Butler
's
habit
when
he
became
involved
in
these
family
quarrels
,
which
were
as
shallow
as
puddles
,
to
wave
his
hands
rather
antagonistically
under
his
wife
's
or
his
children
's
noses
.
"
Oh
,
well
,
I
will
get
out
one
of
these
days
,
"
Aileen
replied
.
"
Thank
heaven
I
wo
n't
have
to
live
here
forever
.
"
There
flashed
across
her
mind
the
beautiful
reception-room
,
library
,
parlor
,
and
boudoirs
of
the
Cowperwoods
,
which
were
now
being
arranged
and
about
which
Anna
Cowperwood
talked
to
her
so
much
--
their
dainty
,
lovely
triangular
grand
piano
in
gold
and
painted
pink
and
blue
.
Why
could
n't
they
have
things
like
that
?
Her
father
was
unquestionably
a
dozen
times
as
wealthy
.
But
no
,
her
father
,
whom
she
loved
dearly
,
was
of
the
old
school
.
He
was
just
what
people
charged
him
with
being
,
a
rough
Irish
contractor
.
He
might
be
rich
.
She
flared
up
at
the
injustice
of
things
--
why
could
n't
he
have
been
rich
and
refined
,
too
?
Then
they
could
have
--
but
,
oh
,
what
was
the
use
of
complaining
?
They
would
never
get
anywhere
with
her
father
and
mother
in
charge
.
She
would
just
have
to
wait
.
Marriage
was
the
answer
--
the
right
marriage
.
But
whom
was
she
to
marry
?
"
You
surely
are
not
going
to
go
on
fighting
about
that
now
,
"
pleaded
Mrs.
Butler
,
as
strong
and
patient
as
fate
itself
.
She
knew
where
Aileen
's
trouble
lay
.
