She forgot that as yet she was not Cowperwood's wife; she felt herself truly to be so.

The streets, set in most instances with a pleasing creamish-brown flagging, lined with young, newly planted trees, the lawns sown to smooth green grass, the windows of the houses trimmed with bright awnings and hung with intricate lace, blowing in a June breeze, the roadways a gray, gritty macadam--all these things touched her fancy.

On one drive they skirted the lake on the North Shore, and Aileen, contemplating the chalky, bluish-green waters, the distant sails, the gulls, and then the new bright homes, reflected that in all certitude she would some day be the mistress of one of these splendid mansions.

How haughtily she would carry herself; how she would dress! They would have a splendid house, much finer, no doubt, than Frank's old one in Philadelphia, with a great ball-room and dining-room where she could give dances and dinners, and where Frank and she would receive as the peers of these Chicago rich people.
"Do you suppose we will ever have a house as fine as one of these, Frank ?" she asked him, longingly.
"I'll tell you what my plan is," he said.

"If you like this Michigan Avenue section we'll buy a piece of property out here now and hold it.
Just as soon as I make the right connections here and see what I am going to do we'll build a house--something really nice--don't worry.