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.

"Really, Mrs. Cowperwood," he said, "it is all most charming. I
was just telling Mr. Lord here that I consider the house a triumph."