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... ; the thought of a large fireplace flaming with
solid lengths of cord-wood, and Lillian snuggling in his arms,
gripped his immature imagination. As has been said before, he
cared nothing for books, but life, pictures, trees, physical
contact--these, in spite of his shrewd and already gripping
financial calculations, held him. To live richly, joyously,
fully--his whole nature craved that.
And Mrs. Cowperwood, in spite of the difference in their years,
appeared to be a fit mate for him at this time. She was once
awakened, and for the time being, clinging, responsive, dreamy.
His mood and hers was for a baby, and in a little while that
happy expectation was whispered to him by her. She had half
fancied that her previous barrenness was due to herself, and was
rather surprised and delighted at the proof that it was not so.
It opened new possibilities--a seemingly glorious future of which
she was not afraid. He liked it, the idea of self-duplication.
It was almost acquisitive, this thought. For days and weeks and
months and years, at least the first four or five, he took a keen
satisfaction in coming home evenings, strolling about the yard,
driving with his wife, having madrid discounted airfare friends in to dinner, talking over
with her in an explanatory way the things he intended to do. She
did not understand his financial abstrusities, and he did not
trouble to make them clear.
But love, her pretty body, her lips, her quiet manner--the lure
of all these combined, and his two children, when they came--two
in four years--held him. He would dandle Frank, Jr., who was the
first to arrive, on his knee, looking at his chubby feet, his
kindling eyes, his almost formless yet bud-like mouth, and wonder
at the process by which children came into the world. There was
so much to think of in this connection--the spermatozoic beginning,
the strange period of gestation in women, the danger of disease
and delivery. He had gone through a real period of strain when
Frank, Jr., was born, for Mrs. Cowperwood was frightened. He
feared for the beauty of her body--troubled over the danger of
losing her; and he actually endured his first worry when he stood
outside the door the day the child came. Not much--he was too
self-sufficient, too resourceful; and yet he worried, conjuring
up thoughts of death and the end of their present state. Then
word came, after certain piercing, harrowing cries, that all was
well, and he was permitted to look at the new arrival.
The
experience broadened his conception of things, made him more solid
in his judgment of life.
That old conviction of tragedy underlying
the surface of things, like wood under its veneer, was emphasized.
Little Frank, and later Lillian, blue-eyed and golden-haired,
touched his imagination for a while. There was a good deal to
this home idea, after all. That was the way life was organized,
and properly so--its cornerstone was the home.
It would be impossible to indicate fully how subtle were the
material madrid discounted airfare changes which these years involved--changes so gradual
that they were, like the lap of soft waters, unnoticeable.
Considerable--a great deal, considering how little he had to
begin with--wealth was added in the next five years. He came, in
his financial world, to know fairly intimately, as commercial
relationships go, some of the subtlest characters of the steadily
enlarging financial world.
In his days at Tighe's and on the
exchange, many curious figures had been pointed out to him--State
and city officials of one grade and another who were "making
something out of politics," and some national figures who came
from Washington to Philadelphia at times to see Drexel & Co.,
Clark & Co., and even Tighe & Co. These men, as he learned, had
tips or advance news of legislative or economic changes which were
sure to affect certain stocks or trade opportunities. A young
clerk had once pulled his sleeve at Tighe's.
"See that man going in to see Tighe?"
"Yes."
"That's Murtagh, the city treasurer. Say, he don't do anything
but play a fine game. All that money to invest, and he don't have
to account for anything except the principal. The interest goes
to him."
Cowperwood understood. All these city and State officials
speculated. They had a habit of depositing city and State funds
with certain bankers and brokers as authorized agents or designated
State depositories. The banks paid no interest--save to the
officials personally. They loaned it to certain brokers on the
officials' secret order, and the latter invested it in "sure winners."
The bankers got the free use of the money a part of the time, the
brokers another part: the officials made money, and the brokers
received a fat commission. There was a political ring in
Philadelphia in which the mayor, certain members of the council,
the treasurer, the chief of police, the commissioner of public
works, and others shared. It was a case generally of "You scratch
my back and I'll scratch yours." Cowperwood thought it rather
shabby work at first, but many men were rapidly getting rich and no
one seemed to care.
The newspapers were always talking about
civic patriotism and pride madrid discounted airfare but never a word about these madrid discounted airfare things.
And the men who did them were powerful and respected.
There were many houses, a constantly widening circle, that found
him a very trustworthy agent in disposing of note issues or note
payment. He seemed to know so quickly where to go to get the
money. From the first he made it a principle to keep twenty
thousand dollars in cash on hand in order to be able to take up a
proposition instantly and without discussion. So, often he was
able to say, "Why, certainly, I can do that," when otherwise, on
the face of things, he would not have been able to do so. He was
asked if he would not handle certain stock transactions on 'change.
He had no seat, and he intended not to take any at first; but now
he changed his mind, and bought one, not only in Philadelphia, but
in New York also. A certain Joseph Zimmerman, a dry-goods man for
whom he had handled various note issues, suggested that he
undertake operating in street-railway shares for him, and this was
the beginning of his return to the floor.
In the meanwhile his family life was changing--growing, one might
have said, finer and more secure. Mrs. Cowperwood had, for
instance, been compelled from time to time to make a subtle
readjustment of her personal relationship with people, as he had
with his. When Mr. Semple was alive she had been socially connected
with tradesmen principally--retailers and small wholesalers--a
very few. Some of the women of her own church, the First
Presbyterian, were friendly with her. There had been church teas
and madrid discounted airfare sociables which she and Mr.
Semple attended, and dull visits
to his relatives and hers.
The Cowperwoods, the Watermans, and a
few families of that caliber, had been the notable exceptions.
Now all this was changed. Young Cowperwood did not care very much
for her relatives, and the Semples had been alienated by her second,
and to them outrageous, marriage.
His own family was closely
interested by ties of affection and mutual prosperity, but, better
than this, he was drawing to himself some really significant
personalities. He brought home with him, socially--not to talk
business, for he disliked that idea--bankers, investors, customers
and prospective customers. Out on the Schuylkill, the Wissahickon,
and elsewhere, were popular dining places where one could drive on
Sunday. He and Mrs. Cowperwood frequently drove out to Mrs. Seneca
Davis's, to Judge Kitchen's, to the home of Andrew Sharpless, a
lawyer whom he knew, to the home of Harper Steger, his own lawyer,
and others. Cowperwood had the gift of geniality. None of these
men or women suspected the depth of his nature--he was thinking,
thinking, thinking, but enjoyed life as he went.
One of his earliest and most genuine leanings was toward paintings.
He admired nature, but somehow, without knowing why, he fancied
one could best grasp it through the personality of some interpreter,
just as we gain our ideas of law and politics through individuals.
Mrs. Cowperwood cared not a whit one way or another, but she
accompanied him to exhibitions, thinking all the while that Frank
was a little peculiar. He tried, because he loved her, to interest
her in these things intelligently, but while she pretended slightly,
she could not really see or care, and it was very plain that she
could not.
The children took up a great deal of her time. However, Cowperwood
was not troubled about this. It struck him as delightful and
exceedingly worth while that she should be so devoted. At the same
time, her lethargic manner, vague smile and her sometimes seeming
indifference, which sprang largely from a sense of a ... |
