“Is it, though?” asked Butler, grimly determined by hook or by crook, to bring this girl to her senses.  “Ye’ll be takin’ no thought of his wife and children then?  The fact that he’s goin’ to jail, besides, is nawthin’ to ye, I suppose.  Ye’d love him just as much in convict stripes, I suppose—­more, maybe.” (The old man was at his best, humanly speaking, when he was a little sarcastic.) “Ye’ll have him that way, likely, if at all.”

Aileen blazed at once to a furious heat.  “Yes, I know,” she sneered.  “That’s what you would like.  I know what you’ve been doing.  Frank does, too.  You’re trying to railroad him to prison for something he didn’t do—­and all on account of me.  Oh, I know.  But you won’t hurt him.  You can’t!  He’s bigger and finer than you think he is and you won’t hurt him in the long run.  He’ll get out again.  You want to punish him on my account; but he doesn’t care.  I’ll marry him anyhow.  I love him, and I’ll wait for him and marry him, and you can do what you please.  So there!”

“Ye’ll marry him, will you?” asked Butler, nonplussed and further astounded.  “So ye’ll wait for him and marry him?  Ye’ll take him away from his wife and children, where, if he were half a man, he’d be stayin’ this minute instead of gallivantin’ around with you.  And marry him?  Ye’d disgrace your father and yer mother and yer family?  Ye’ll stand here and say this to me, I that have raised ye, cared for ye, and made somethin’ of ye?  Where would you be if it weren’t for me and your poor, hard-workin’ mother, schemin’ and plannin’ for you year in and year out?  Ye’re smarter than I am, I suppose.  Ye know more about the world than I do, or any one else that might want to say anythin’ to ye.  I’ve raised ye to be a fine lady, and this is what I get.  Talk about me not bein’ able to understand, and ye lovin’ a convict-to-be, a robber, an embezzler, a bankrupt, a lyin’, thavin’—­”

“Father!” exclaimed Aileen, determinedly.  “I’ll not listen to you talking that way.  He’s not any of the things that you say.  I’ll not stay here.”  She moved toward the door; but Butler jumped up now and stopped her.  His face for the moment was flushed and swollen with anger.

“But I’m not through with him yet,” he went on, ignoring her desire to leave, and addressing her direct—­confident now that she was as capable as another of understanding him.  “I’ll get him as sure as I have a name.  There’s law in this land, and I’ll have it on him.  I’ll show him whether he’ll come sneakin’ into dacent homes and robbin’ parents of their children.”

He paused after a time for want of breath and Aileen stared, her face tense and white.  Her father could be so ridiculous.  He was, contrasted with Cowperwood and his views, so old-fashioned.  To think he could be talking of some one coming into their home and stealing her away from him, when she had been so willing to go.  What silliness!  And yet, why argue?  What good could be accomplished, arguing with him here in this way?  And so for the moment, she said nothing more—­merely looked.  But Butler was by no means done.  His mood was too stormy even though he was doing his best now to subdue himself.