THE FINANCIER 
not so pretty, though she could not be said to be homely. 
She was small and dark, with a turned-up nose, snapping 
black eyes, a pert, inquisitive, intelligent, and, alas, 
somewhat critical air. She had considerable tact in the 
matter of dressing, and knew the few things that became 
her very well. Black, in 
 of her darkness, with shin- 
ing beads or sequins on it, helped her complexion greatly, 
as did a red rose in her hair. She had smooth, white, 
well-rounded arms and shoulders, so these were used 
to their full advantage. Bright eyes, a pert manner, 
clever remarks—these assisted to create an illusion of 
charm, though, as she often said, it was all of little use. 
"The men want the dolly things." 
Aileen Butler was anything but the " dolly" type. 
She had been here once before during the afternoon with 
her father and mother, Callum and Norah—for Owen 
could not come—and she had created an impression in 
a street costume of dark-blue silk with velvet pelisse to 
match, and trimmed only with elaborate pleatings and 
shinings of the same materials. A toque of blue velvet, 
with high crown and one large dark-red imitation orchid, 
had given her a jaunty, dashing air. Beneath the toque 
her red-gold hair was arranged in an enormous chignon, 
with one long curl escaping over her collar. She was 
not exactly as daring as she seemed; but she loved to 
give the impression of it. 
" The bold thing," Anna had commented. " Just as 
I thought." 
"You look stunning," Cowperwood said, as she passed. 
"I'll look different to-night," was her only answer. 
"Tst! Tst! Tst!" Mrs. Lillian Cowperwood had com- 
mented to herself. "Well, they had better look after her." 
She had swung with a slight, swaggering stride into 
the dining-room and disappeared. Norah and her mother 
stayed to chatter. 
"Well, it's lovely now, isn't it ?" breathed Mrs. Butler. 
"It's charming, altogether. Sure you'll be happy here. 
215