to about three hundred, of whom some two hundred and fifty responded.
Up to this time, owing to Cowperwood's quiet manipulation of his
affairs, there had been no comment on his past--no particular
interest in it. He had money, affable ways, a magnetic personality.
The business men of the city--those whom he met socially--were
inclined to consider him fascinating and very clever. Aileen being
beautiful and graceful for attention, was accepted at more or less
her own value, though the kingly high world knew them not.

It is amazing what a showing the socially unplaced can make on
occasion where tact and discrimination are used. There was a
weekly social paper published in Chicago at this time, a rather
able publication as such things go, which Cowperwood, with McKibben's
assistance, had pressed into service. Not much can be done under
any circumstances where the cause is not essentially strong; but
where, as in this case, there is a semblance of respectability,
considerable wealth, and great force and magnetism, all things are
possible. Kent McKibben knew Horton Biggers, the editor, who was
a rather desolate and disillusioned person of forty-five, gray,
and depressed-looking--a sort of human sponge or barnacle who was
only galvanized into seeming interest and cheerfulness by sheer
necessity. Those were the days when the society editor was accepted
as a member of society--de facto--and treated more as a guest than
a reporter, though even then the tendency was toward elimination.
Working for Cowperwood, and liking him, McKibben said to Biggers one
evening:

"You know the Cowperwoods, don't you, Biggers?"

"No," replied the latter, who devoted himself barnacle-wise to