THE STOIC

Aileen’s bark was worse than her bite

Mrs. Cowperwood, I beg to take exception to your accusations. I was called in on this case in a professional capacity, not as a judge of situations which are none of my making. And you have no right to judge the motives of a man about whom you know as little as you do about me. Whether you believe it or not, your husband is a very sick man, very, and if you make the grave error of giving out any story to the press, you will be hurting yourself a thousand times more than you could ever hurt him, or anyone connected with him. For he not only has powerful friends, but admirers, as you know—friends who will deeply resent any such action as you propose, and who will not fail him. If he dies, as he well may . . . well, judge for yourself how any such public attack as you have in mind will be received.”

These varying problems prey on your mind, Frank,” he told him, seriously. “The brain is a thinking, creative, and directive organ which can cause you as much trouble as any fatal disease, of which worry is one, and I think you have that disease now. My problem is to make you know that that is true, and that your life is worth more to you than any ten underground systems. If you insist on putting work first, any quack doctor can truthfully assure you that at your age you are likely to die. So now my problem is to get your mind off your underground systems, and get you to take a real rest.”

He must not think too much. Take things as they come and make the best of them. After all, the world had done more for him than for most, and the least he could do was to be grateful, and he was.

“Every profession, every trade, every form of labor, requires alertness and skill. The skipper, as you see, has complete control of his yacht, and that, in itself, is an achievement.”

There was something in his very blood stream which, in due course, invariably brought about a sudden and, even to himself, almost inexplicable cessation of interest.

As was almost always the case with him, his purely sensual enthusiasms were limited in duration.

And he went on to develop his pet theory that the significance of a title unaccompanied by personal achievement was little. Besides, the world’s interest was turning to men who worked in the realm of science and economics, and it was economics which most interested him.

“Life seems to be shot through with crazy predestinations, some beautiful and some terrible or shameful or brutal.”

“The world is like that, unfair, full of gifts for some and nothing for others.”