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lps me over my difficulties； that's my business； not yours；〃 and in defiance she prepared another glass and drank it。
Cowperwood shook his head； looking at her steadily and sorrowfully。 〃It's too bad； Aileen；〃 he said。 〃I don't know what to do about you exactly。 You oughtn't to go on this way。 Whisky won't get you anywhere。 It will simply ruin your looks and make you miserable in the bargain。〃
〃Oh； to hell with my looks！〃 she snapped。 〃A lot of good they've done me。〃 And； feeling contentious and sad； she got up and left the table。 Cowperwood followed her after a time； only to see her dabbing at her eyes and nose with powder。 A half…filled glass of whisky and water was on the dressing…table beside her。 It gave him a strange feeling of responsibility and helplessness。
Mingled with his anxiety as to Aileen were thoughts of the alternate rise and fall of his hopes in connection with Berenice。 She was such a superior girl； developing so definitely as an individual。 To his satisfaction she had； on a few recent occasions when he had seen her； unbent sufficiently to talk to him in a friendly and even intimate way； for she was by no means hoity…toity； but a thinking； reasoning being of the profoundest intellectual； or； rather； the highest artistic tendencies。 She was so care…free； living in a high and solitary world； at times apparently enwrapt in thoughts serene； at other times sharing vividly in the current interests of the social world of which she was a part； and which she dignified as much as it dignified her。
One Sunday morning at Pocono； in late June weather； when he had come East to rest for a few days； and all was still and airy on the high ground which the Carter cottage occupied； Berenice came out on the veranda where Cowperwood was sitting； reading a fiscal report of one of his companies and meditating on his affairs。 By now they had become somewhat more sympatica than formerly； and Berenice had an easy； genial way in his presence。 She liked him； rather。 With an indescribable smile which wrinkled her nose and eyes； and played about the corners of her mouth； she said： 〃Now I am going to catch a bird。〃
〃A what？〃 asked Cowperwood； looking up and pretending he had not heard； though he had。 He was all eyes for any movement of hers。 She was dressed in a flouncy morning gown eminently suitable for the world in which she was moving。
〃A bird；〃 she replied； with an airy toss of her head。 〃This is June…time； and the sparrows are teaching their young to fly。〃
Cowperwood； previously engrossed in financial speculations； was translated； as by the wave of a fairy wand； into another realm where birds and fledglings and grass and the light winds of heaven were more important than brick and stone and stocks and bonds。 He got up and followed her flowing steps across the grass to where； near a clump of alder bushes； she had seen a mother sparrow enticing a fledgling to take wing。 From her room upstairs； she had been watching this bit of outdoor sociology。 It suddenly came to Cowperwood； with great force； how comparatively unimportant in the great drift of life were his own affairs when about him was operative all this splendid will to existence； as sensed by her。 He saw her stretch out her hands downward； and run in an airy； graceful way； stooping here and there； while before her fluttered a baby sparrow； until suddenly she dived quickly and then； turning； her face agleam； cried： 〃See； I have him！ He wants to fight； too！ Oh； you little dear！〃
She was holding 〃him；〃 as she chose to characterize it； in the hollow of her hand； the head between her thumb and forefinger； with the forefinger of her free hand petting it the while she laughed and kissed it。 It was not so much bird…love as the artistry of life and of herself that was moving her。 Hearing the parent bird chirping distractedly from a nearby limb； she turned and called： 〃Don't make such a row！ I sha'n't keep him long。〃
Cowperwood laughedtrig in the morning sun。 〃You can scarcely blame her；〃 he commented。
〃Oh； she knows well enough I wouldn't hurt him；〃 Berenice replied； spiritedly； as though it were literally true。
〃Does she； indeed？〃 inquired Cowperwood。 〃Why do you say that？〃
〃Because it's true。 Don't you think they know when their children are really in danger？〃
〃But why should they？〃 persisted Cowperwood； charmed and interested by the involute character of her logic。 She was quite deceptive to him。 He could not be sure what she thought。
She merely fixed him a moment with her cool； slate…blue eyes。 〃Do you think the senses of the world are only five？〃 she asked； in the most charming and non…reproachful way。 〃Indeed； they know well enough。 She knows。〃 She turned and waved a graceful hand in the direction of the tree； where peace now reigned。 The chirping had ceased。 〃She knows I am not a cat。〃
Again that enticing； mocking smile that wrinkled her nose； her eye…corners； her mouth。 The word 〃cat〃 had a sharp； sweet sound in her mouth。 It seemed to be bitten off closely with force and airy spirit。 Cowperwood surveyed her as he would have surveyed the ablest person he knew。 Here was a woman； he saw； who could and would command the utmost reaches of his soul in every direction。 If he interested her at all； he would need them all。 The eyes of her were at once so elusive； so direct； so friendly； so cool and keen。 〃You will have to be interesting； indeed； to interest me；〃 they seemed to say； and yet they were by no means averse； apparently； to a hearty camaraderie。 That nose…wrinkling smile said as much。 Here was by no means a Stephanie Platow； nor yet a Rita Sohlberg。 He could not assume her as he had Ella Hubby； or Florence Cochrane； or Cecily Haguenin。 Here was an iron individuality with a soul for romance and art and philosophy and life。 He could not take her as he had those others。 And yet Berenice was really beginning to think more than a little about Cowperwood。 He must be an extraordinary man； her mother said so； and the newspapers were always mentioning his name and noting his movements。
A little later； at Southampton； whither she and her mother had gone； they met again。 Together with a young man by the name of Greanelle； Cowperwood and Berenice had gone into the sea to bathe。 It was a wonderful afternoon。
To the east and south and west spread the sea； a crinkling floor of blue； and to their left； as they faced it； was a lovely outward…curving shore of tawny sand。 Studying Berenice in blue…silk bathing costume and shoes； Cowperwood had been stung by the wonder of passing lifehow youth comes in； ever fresh and fresh； and age goes out。 Here he was； long crowded years of conflict and experience behind him； and yet this twenty…year…old girl； with her incisive mind and keen tastes； was apparently as wise in matters of general import as himself。 He could find no flaw in her armor in those matters which they could discuss。 Her knowledge and comments were so ripe and sane； despite a tendency to pose a little； which was quite within her rights。 Because Greanelle had bored her a little she had shunted him off and was amusing herself talking to Cowperwood； who fascinated her by his compact individuality。
〃Do you know；〃 she confided to him； on this occasion； 〃I get so very tired of young men sometimes。 They can be so inane。 I do declare； they are nothing more than shoes and ties and socks and canes strung together in some unimaginable way。 Vaughn Greanelle is for all the world like a perambulating manikin to…day。 He is just an English suit with a cane attached walking about。〃
〃Well； bless my soul；〃 commented Cowperwood； 〃what an indictment！〃
〃It's true；〃 she replied。 〃He knows nothing at all except polo； and the latest swimming…stroke； and where everybody is； and who is going to marry who。 Isn't it dull？〃
She tossed her head back and breathed as though to exhale the fumes of the dull and the inane from her inmost being。
〃Did you tell him that？〃 inquired Cowperwood； curiously。
〃Certainly I did。〃
〃I don't wonder he looks so solemn；〃 he said； turning and looking back at Greanelle and Mrs。 Carter； they were sitting side by side in sand…chairs； the former beating the sand with his toes。 〃You're a curious girl； Berenice；〃 he went on； familiarly。 〃You are so direct and vital at times。
〃Not any more than you are； from all I can hear；〃 she replied； fixing him with those steady eyes。 〃Anyhow； why should I be bored？ He is so dull。 He follows me around out here all the time； and I don't want him。〃
She tossed her head and began to run up the beach to where bathers were fewer and fewer； looking back at Cowperwood as if to say； 〃Why don't you follow？〃 He developed a burst of enthusiasm and ran quite briskly； overtaking her near some shallows where； because of a sandbar offshore； the waters were thin and bright。
〃Oh； look！〃 exclaimed Berenice； when he came up。 〃See； the fish！ O…oh！〃
She dashed in to where a few feet offshore a small school of minnows as large as sardines were playing； silvery in the sun。 She ran as she had for the bird； doing her best to frighten them into a neighboring pocket or pool farther up on the shore。 Cowperwood； as gay as a boy of ten； joined in the chase。