17/17 Aileen was fairly bursting with hope and vanity and longing. Oh, to be Mrs.Frank Algernon Cowperwood here in Chicago, to have a splendid mansion, to have her cards of invitation practically commands which might not be ignored! "Oh, dear!" she sighed to herself, mentally. "If only it were all true--now." It is thus that life at its topmost toss irks and pains. Beyond is ever the unattainable, the lure of the infinite with its infinite ache. |