The thought of the dinner-table with candles upon it (his idea); the thought of Lillian in a trailing gown of pale-blue or green silk--he liked her in those colors; 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.