But love, her pretty body, her lips, her quiet manner—­the lure of all these combined, and his two children, when they came—­two in four years—­held him.  He would dandle Frank, Jr., who was the first to arrive, on his knee, looking at his chubby feet, his kindling eyes, his almost formless yet bud-like mouth, and wonder at the process by which children came into the world.  There was so much to think of in this connection—­the spermatozoic beginning, the strange period of gestation in women, the danger of disease and delivery.  He had gone through a real period of strain when Frank, Jr., was born, for Mrs. Cowperwood was frightened.  He feared for the beauty of her body—­troubled over the danger of losing her; and he actually endured his first worry when he stood outside the door the day the child came.  Not much—­he was too self-sufficient, too resourceful; and yet he worried, conjuring up thoughts of death and the end of their present state.  Then word came, after certain piercing, harrowing cries, that all was well, and he was permitted to look at the new arrival.  The experience broadened his conception of things, made him more solid in his judgment of life.  That old conviction of tragedy underlying the surface of things, like wood under its veneer, was emphasized.  Little Frank, and later Lillian, blue-eyed and golden-haired, touched his imagination for a while.  There was a good deal to this home idea, after all.  That was the way life was organized, and properly so—­its cornerstone was the home.

It would be impossible to indicate fully how subtle were the material changes which these years involved—­changes so gradual that they were, like the lap of soft waters, unnoticeable.  Considerable—­a great deal, considering how little he had to begin with—­wealth was added in the next five years.  He came, in his financial world, to know fairly intimately, as commercial relationships go, some of the subtlest characters of the steadily enlarging financial world.  In his days at Tighe’s and on the exchange, many curious figures had been pointed out to him—­State and city officials of one grade and another who were “making something out of politics,” and some national figures who came from Washington to Philadelphia at times to see Drexel & Co., Clark & Co., and even Tighe & Co.  These men, as he learned, had tips or advance news of legislative or economic changes which were sure to affect certain stocks or trade opportunities.  A young clerk had once pulled his sleeve at Tighe’s.

“See that man going in to see Tighe?”

“Yes.”

“That’s Murtagh, the city treasurer.  Say, he don’t do anything but play a fine game.  All that money to invest, and he don’t have to account for anything except the principal.  The interest goes to him.”