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- Теодор Драйзер
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Biggers
pricked
up
his
ears
.
This
social
journalism
was
thin
picking
at
best
,
and
he
had
very
few
ways
of
turning
an
honest
penny
.
The
would
be
's
and
half-in
's
who
expected
nice
things
said
of
them
had
to
subscribe
,
and
rather
liberally
,
to
his
paper
.
Not
long
after
this
brief
talk
Cowperwood
received
a
subscription
blank
from
the
business
office
of
the
Saturday
Review
,
and
immediately
sent
a
check
for
one
hundred
dollars
to
Mr.
Horton
Biggers
direct
.
Subsequently
certain
not
very
significant
personages
noticed
that
when
the
Cowperwoods
dined
at
their
boards
the
function
received
comment
by
the
Saturday
Review
,
not
otherwise
.
It
looked
as
though
the
Cowperwoods
must
be
favored
;
but
who
were
they
,
anyhow
?
The
danger
of
publicity
,
and
even
moderate
social
success
,
is
that
scandal
loves
a
shining
mark
.
When
you
begin
to
stand
out
the
least
way
in
life
,
as
separate
from
the
mass
,
the
cognoscenti
wish
to
know
who
,
what
,
and
why
.
The
enthusiasm
of
Aileen
,
combined
with
the
genius
of
Cowperwood
,
was
for
making
their
opening
entertainment
a
very
exceptional
affair
,
which
,
under
the
circumstances
,
and
all
things
considered
,
was
a
dangerous
thing
to
do
.
As
yet
Chicago
was
exceedingly
slow
socially
.
Its
movements
were
,
as
has
been
said
,
more
or
less
bovine
and
phlegmatic
.
To
rush
in
with
something
utterly
brilliant
and
pyrotechnic
was
to
take
notable
chances
.
The
more
cautious
members
of
Chicago
society
,
even
if
they
did
not
attend
,
would
hear
,
and
then
would
come
ultimate
comment
and
decision
.
The
function
began
with
a
reception
at
four
,
which
lasted
until
six-thirty
,
and
this
was
followed
by
a
dance
at
nine
,
with
music
by
a
famous
stringed
orchestra
of
Chicago
,
a
musical
programme
by
artists
of
considerable
importance
,
and
a
gorgeous
supper
from
eleven
until
one
in
a
Chinese
fairyland
of
lights
,
at
small
tables
filling
three
of
the
ground-floor
rooms
.
As
an
added
fillip
to
the
occasion
Cowperwood
had
hung
,
not
only
the
important
pictures
which
he
had
purchased
abroad
,
but
a
new
one
--
a
particularly
brilliant
Gerome
,
then
in
the
heyday
of
his
exotic
popularity
--
a
picture
of
nude
odalisques
of
the
harem
,
idling
beside
the
highly
colored
stone
marquetry
of
an
oriental
bath
.
It
was
more
or
less
"
loose
"
art
for
Chicago
,
shocking
to
the
uninitiated
,
though
harmless
enough
to
the
illuminati
;
but
it
gave
a
touch
of
color
to
the
art-gallery
which
the
latter
needed
.
There
was
also
,
newly
arrived
and
newly
hung
,
a
portrait
of
Aileen
by
a
Dutch
artist
,
Jan
van
Beers
,
whom
they
had
encountered
the
previous
summer
at
Brussels
.
He
had
painted
Aileen
in
nine
sittings
,
a
rather
brilliant
canvas
,
high
in
key
,
with
a
summery
,
out-of-door
world
behind
her
--
a
low
stone-curbed
pool
,
the
red
corner
of
a
Dutch
brick
palace
,
a
tulip-bed
,
and
a
blue
sky
with
fleecy
clouds
.
Aileen
was
seated
on
the
curved
arm
of
a
stone
bench
,
green
grass
at
her
feet
,
a
pink-and-white
parasol
with
a
lacy
edge
held
idly
to
one
side
;
her
rounded
,
vigorous
figure
clad
in
the
latest
mode
of
Paris
,
a
white
and
blue
striped-silk
walking-suit
,
with
a
blue-and-white-banded
straw
hat
,
wide-brimmed
,
airy
,
shading
her
lusty
,
animal
eyes
.
The
artist
had
caught
her
spirit
quite
accurately
,
the
dash
,
the
assumption
,
the
bravado
based
on
the
courage
of
inexperience
,
or
lack
of
true
subtlety
.
A
refreshing
thing
in
its
way
,
a
little
showy
,
as
everything
that
related
to
her
was
,
and
inclined
to
arouse
jealousy
in
those
not
so
liberally
endowed
by
life
,
but
fine
as
a
character
piece
.
In
the
warm
glow
of
the
guttered
gas-jets
she
looked
particularly
brilliant
here
,
pampered
,
idle
,
jaunty
--
the
well-kept
,
stall-fed
pet
of
the
world
.
Many
stopped
to
see
,
and
many
were
the
comments
,
private
and
otherwise
.
This
day
began
with
a
flurry
of
uncertainty
and
worried
anticipation
on
the
part
of
Aileen
.
At
Cowperwood
's
suggestion
she
had
employed
a
social
secretary
,
a
poor
hack
of
a
girl
,
who
had
sent
out
all
the
letters
,
tabulated
the
replies
,
run
errands
,
and
advised
on
one
detail
and
another
.
Fadette
,
her
French
maid
,
was
in
the
throes
of
preparing
for
two
toilets
which
would
have
to
be
made
this
day
,
one
by
two
o'clock
at
least
,
another
between
six
and
eight
.
Her
"
mon
dieus
"
and
"
par
bleus
"
could
be
heard
continuously
as
she
hunted
for
some
article
of
dress
or
polished
an
ornament
,
buckle
,
or
pin
.
The
struggle
of
Aileen
to
be
perfect
was
,
as
usual
,
severe
.
Her
meditations
,
as
to
the
most
becoming
gown
to
wear
were
trying
.
Her
portrait
was
on
the
east
wall
in
the
art-gallery
,
a
spur
to
emulation
;
she
felt
as
though
all
society
were
about
to
judge
her
.
Theresa
Donovan
,
the
local
dressmaker
,
had
given
some
advice
;
but
Aileen
decided
on
a
heavy
brown
velvet
constructed
by
Worth
,
of
Paris
--
a
thing
of
varying
aspects
,
showing
her
neck
and
arms
to
perfection
,
and
composing
charmingly
with
her
flesh
and
hair
.
She
tried
amethyst
ear-rings
and
changed
to
topaz
;
she
stockinged
her
legs
in
brown
silk
,
and
her
feet
were
shod
in
brown
slippers
with
red
enamel
buttons
.
The
trouble
with
Aileen
was
that
she
never
did
these
things
with
that
ease
which
is
a
sure
sign
of
the
socially
efficient
.
She
never
quite
so
much
dominated
a
situation
as
she
permitted
it
to
dominate
her
.
Only
the
superior
ease
and
graciousness
of
Cowperwood
carried
her
through
at
times
;
but
that
always
did
.
When
he
was
near
she
felt
quite
the
great
lady
,
suited
to
any
realm
.
When
she
was
alone
her
courage
,
great
as
it
was
,
often
trembled
in
the
balance
.
Her
dangerous
past
was
never
quite
out
of
her
mind
.
At
four
Kent
McKibben
,
smug
in
his
afternoon
frock
,
his
quick
,
receptive
eyes
approving
only
partially
of
all
this
show
and
effort
,
took
his
place
in
the
general
reception-room
,
talking
to
Taylor
Lord
,
who
had
completed
his
last
observation
and
was
leaving
to
return
later
in
the
evening
.
If
these
two
had
been
closer
friends
,
quite
intimate
,
they
would
have
discussed
the
Cowperwoods
'
social
prospects
;
but
as
it
was
,
they
confined
themselves
to
dull
conventionalities
.
At
this
moment
Aileen
came
down-stairs
for
a
moment
,
radiant
.
Kent
McKibben
thought
he
had
never
seen
her
look
more
beautiful
.
After
all
,
contrasted
with
some
of
the
stuffy
creatures
who
moved
about
in
society
,
shrewd
,
hard
,
bony
,
calculating
,
trading
on
their
assured
position
,
she
was
admirable
.
It
was
a
pity
she
did
not
have
more
poise
;
she
ought
to
be
a
little
harder
--
not
quite
so
genial
.
Still
,
with
Cowperwood
at
her
side
,
she
might
go
far
.
