He had met Mrs.Butler, a rather fat and phlegmatic Irish woman with a world of hard sense who cared nothing at all for show and who still liked to go into the kitchen and superintend the cooking.

He had met Owen and Callum Butler, the boys, and Aileen and Norah, the girls.
Aileen was the one who had bounded up the steps the first day he had called at the Butler house several seasons before.
There was a cozy grate-fire burning in Butler's improvised private office when Cowperwood called.

Spring was coming on, but the evenings were cool.

The older man invited Cowperwood to make himself comfortable in one of the large leather chairs before the fire and then proceeded to listen to his recital of what he hoped to accomplish.
"Well, now, that isn't so easy," he commented at the end.

"You ought to know more about that than I do.