fact, she liked Aileen and all the Orient richness she represented.
"Such a sweet little house this is," she said, smilingly. "We've
noticed it often. We're not so far removed from you but what we
might be called neighbors."

Aileen's eyes spoke appreciation. Although she could not fully
grasp Mrs. Rambaud, she understood her, in a way, and liked her.
She was probably something like her own mother would have been if
the latter had been highly educated. While they were moving into
the reception-room Taylor Lord was announced. Cowperwood took his
hand and brought him forward to the others.

"Mrs. Cowperwood," said Lord, admiringly--a tall, rugged, thoughtful
person--"let me be one of many to welcome you to Chicago. After
Philadelphia you will find some things to desire at first, but we
all come to like it eventually."

"Oh, I'm sure I shall," smiled Aileen.

"I lived in Philadelphia years ago, but only for a little while,"
added Lord. "I left there to come here."

The observation gave Aileen the least pause, but she passed it
over lightly. This sort of accidental reference she must learn
to expect; there might be much worse bridges to cross.

"I find Chicago all right," she replied, briskly. "There's nothing
the matter with it. It has more snap than Philadelphia ever had."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I like it so much. Perhaps it's