So there were other meetings, lovely hours which they soon began to spend the moment her passion waxed warm enough to assure compliance, without great fear and without thought of the deadly risk involved.  From odd moments in his own home, stolen when there was no one about to see, they advanced to clandestine meetings beyond the confines of the city.  Cowperwood was not one who was temperamentally inclined to lose his head and neglect his business.  As a matter of fact, the more he thought of this rather unexpected affectional development, the more certain he was that he must not let it interfere with his business time and judgment.  His office required his full attention from nine until three, anyhow.  He could give it until five-thirty with profit; but he could take several afternoons off, from three-thirty until five-thirty or six, and no one would be the wiser.  It was customary for Aileen to drive alone almost every afternoon a spirited pair of bays, or to ride a mount, bought by her father for her from a noted horse-dealer in Baltimore.  Since Cowperwood also drove and rode, it was not difficult to arrange meeting-places far out on the Wissahickon or the Schuylkill road.  There were many spots in the newly laid-out park, which were as free from interruption as the depths of a forest.  It was always possible that they might encounter some one; but it was also always possible to make a rather plausible explanation, or none at all, since even in case of such an encounter nothing, ordinarily, would be suspected.

So, for the time being there was love-making, the usual billing and cooing of lovers in a simple and much less than final fashion; and the lovely horseback rides together under the green trees of the approaching spring were idyllic.  Cowperwood awakened to a sense of joy in life such as he fancied, in the blush of this new desire, he had never experienced before.  Lillian had been lovely in those early days in which he had first called on her in North Front Street, and he had fancied himself unspeakably happy at that time; but that was nearly ten years since, and he had forgotten.  Since then he had had no great passion, no notable liaison; and then, all at once, in the midst of his new, great business prosperity, Aileen.  Her young body and soul, her passionate illusions.  He could see always, for all her daring, that she knew so little of the calculating, brutal world with which he was connected.  Her father had given her all the toys she wanted without stint; her mother and brothers had coddled her, particularly her mother.  Her young sister thought she was adorable.  No one imagined for one moment that Aileen would ever do anything wrong.  She was too sensible, after all, too eager to get up in the world.  Why should she, when her life lay open and happy before her—­a delightful love-match, some day soon, with some very eligible and satisfactory lover?

“When you marry, Aileen,” her mother used to say to her, “we’ll have a grand time here.  Sure we’ll do the house over then, if we don’t do it before.  Eddie will have to fix it up, or I’ll do it meself.  Never fear.”