the more exclusive circles. "Who are they?"

"Why, he's a banker over here in La Salle Street. They're from
Philadelphia. Mrs. Cowperwood's a beautiful woman--young and all
that. They're building a house out here on Michigan Avenue. You
ought to know them. They're going to get in, I think. The Addisons
like them. If you were to be nice to them now I think they'd
appreciate it later. He's rather liberal, and a good fellow."

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