CHAPTER XVIII.
A SUCCESSFUL SPECULATION.
It was evident that neither Fanny nor her future husband believed in procrastination; for not only did they set an early day for the wedding, but began at once--at least Fanny did--preparations for the coming event on a scale that was destined to overwhelm the natives of the city of sand and sawdust by its magnificence.
Old Pat was inclined to object to such a hasty wedding, claiming, sensibly enough, that the young people needed time to become thoroughly acquainted with each other before they assumed the responsibilities of wedded life.
He proposed a year’s delay, and quoted “marry in haste and repent at leisure,” and various other wise old saws, to support his position; but this did not suit either of the more nearly interested parties.
Fanny had always looked upon marriage as the only possible relief from her position in life, and saw before her, in the contemplated trip to Europe, the realization of her fondest dreams, and was in a fever of expectation that was not likely to subside until she found herself en route.
As for Elwell, he probably looked upon it as a successful speculation, and certainly was not likely to advocate any delay in the consummation thereof. Acting thus in concert, though from different reasons, they were altogether too much for old Pat, and he was obliged to withdraw his opposition to their immediate marriage, and the preparations went on at a rate that resulted in Pat’s wishing himself well rid of them both, that he might have a little comfort in his own house.
It was settled that they were to make a “grand tour.” Elwell had protested feebly against this, and had called Fanny’s attention to the fact that his fortune was still to be made, and that a trip to Europe was a very expensive luxury for a comparatively poor man.
It would have been better for both, perhaps, if Fanny had met his objections in a different spirit. He was not a bad man at heart, and he had proposed to himself that, in return for her fortune, he would contribute all he could to her happiness. But Fanny would accept no promises of future tours to be made when he had accomplished his fortune.
She had her objects to be attained by this marriage no less clearly defined than his, and plainly intimated that if he was too poor to afford a trip to Europe, he was too poor to marry at all. And he had too much at stake to admit of any chance of failure by offending his capricious bride-elect.
“We will go, dear, of course, if you wish it,” he said. “You know that I only desire to please you, and make you as happy as you have made me.”
“Have I made you very happy?”
“Very happy, indeed.”
“Then,” she said gayly, “you must prepay me by being kind to me, and never refusing me anything I want.” And having thus systematically set forth her edict, she kissed him and went on with her preparations.
It was settled that the wedding was to take place during the coming month, and Elwell had made his preparations for a return to Chicago in order to wind up his affairs, with a view of permanently changing his abode.
He had managed to dodge as yet all promises as to their future residence. That was a point to be settled after their return.
He did not dare to risk a discussion of the matter until the bonds were riveted that were to give him at least nominal control of his wife and her fortune.
“How I wish you could come with me!” he said to his betrothed on the eve of his departure. “I know you would enjoy a visit there so much.”
“Yes, I know I should,” rejoined Fanny, with some meaning in her tones. “I suppose you are extensively acquainted?” she asked.
“Oh, yes; fairly so; but, as a bachelor, my acquaintances have been principally among business men.”
“And their families, I suppose?” she inquired coldly.
“Oh, yes! and their families, of course,” stammered Elwell, mentally congratulating himself on the fact that she would not be with him to find out how limited his acquaintance really was.
“I am so glad,” said Fanny. “Then you will be able to introduce me at once--that is, when we go there together,” she added.
“Oh, yes,” he replied mendaciously; “I shall be able to introduce you; and I am sure you will be immensely pleased with some of my friends.”
“I am so glad,” said Fanny, again; but there was something in her tone that created an uneasy feeling in her lover’s breast.
“Perhaps,” he thought, “it is just as well that you are not going with me until after we are married.”
The next day found Elwell in Chicago, and the first one he called on was his legal friend, Coleman.
Peter was not in his little office, and after looking in vain for him in the places usually frequented by his friend, Elwell was forced to take a carriage and drive to the house where he knew Peter had his lodgings.
He rang the bell, and was admitted by a tall, handsome girl, whose flashing black eyes and commanding figure would have attracted attention anywhere.
“Is Mr. Peter Coleman in?” inquired Elwell, in his smoothest tones.
The handsome girl would see. Would he step in?
No; he would wait.
And as the handsome girl was already attired for the street, she called to a servant for the desired information, and waited, too, partly because the strange gentleman was standing directly in her way, and partly from that curiosity inherited by all the daughters of our common mother Eve.
No, Mr. Coleman was not in. Was there any message the gentleman would like to leave?
Elwell, who had been staring at the handsome girl all this time in a manner very unbecoming to a prospective bridegroom, said, “Yes,” and explained that he was in town for a few days only, and consequently pressed for time. He would like to see Mr. Coleman as soon as possible. Would she kindly say that he was stopping at the Palmer, and ask Mr. Coleman to favor him with a call?
“Certainly,” replied the handsome girl, evidently somewhat tired of his open admiration. “What is the name, please?”
“Elwell--Mr. Elwell,” replied the owner of the name, backing down the steps.
“Mr. James Elwell?” inquired the young lady, quickly.
“Yes. You have heard the name before, I perceive?”
“Yes, I think I have heard Mr. Coleman mention it.” And then, with a cool “good morning,” she passed him on the steps, and started on her way.
“That is a handsome girl,” commented Elwell, mentally, as he watched her form recede from view. “Wonder why Coleman never mentioned her?”
And still thinking of the handsome, black-eyed girl, he got into the carriage and was driven off.
That was a busy day for Mr. James Elwell, and more than once he congratulated himself that he had not been accompanied by Fanny.
He had never thought of the matter before, being somewhat indifferent to the charms of society, as are most ambitious men; and it surprised him to find how few friends he had that could prove desirable acquaintances for his wife.
He had been greeted by a vast number of his friends that day, but they were mostly “bloods”--young men with sporting proclivities, and “fast” in every meaning of the term.
On ’Change he knew numbers of solid, respectable business men, but he did not know their families; and there seemed to be no place that he could have taken his bride had she been with him; and so he rejoiced at her absence, and resolved that it would be a long time before he would try to introduce her into society--at least in Chicago.
He had thought of all this during the day, and returned to the hotel in the evening in a very contented frame of mind.
He found Coleman waiting for him, and they shook hands heartily.
“I say, Elwell, I guess there is some one here looking for you,” said the lawyer, after their friendly greeting. “At least the clerk asked me how soon you would return, and then sent them up to the parlor.”
“Them? Who?” demanded Elwell.
“Blessed if I know,” returned Coleman. “One was a fat, jolly-looking old fellow, and the other was a well-dressed girl with red hair and a turn-up nose.”
Elwell groaned in bitterness of spirit. There could be no mistake from his friend’s candid description. It _must_ be Fanny and her father.
“What’s the matter?” inquired Coleman. “You don’t owe them anything do you?”
“I am afraid I do,” replied Elwell ruefully; “but not in the way you think. You see, Peter,” he said, familiarly, in his trouble, “I am going to be married soon.”
Peter whistled softly and looked interested.
“Yes,” continued Elwell, “and this is my future wife and her father.”
Peter nodded.
“And--and----Well, you see she is very anxious to get acquainted with some of our society people, and I am afraid she thinks I can introduce her. In fact,” he continued, being candid from necessity, “she might have thought from what I said that I was better acquainted than I am.”
“Had to lie a little, eh?” remarked Coleman shrewdly.
Elwell flushed but returned no answer.
“What are you going to do about it?” inquired Coleman. “It is too late to go anywhere to-night; unless it is to the opera.”
Elwell gave a sigh of relief.
“That’s so,” he said, “I’m glad of that.”
“Well, then, you go and get tickets for to-night; and to-morrow, if they stay, you can fix up something.”
Elwell looked relieved.
“I’ll do that,” he said. “You might as well walk over with me. By the way, who was that handsome girl I met at your place to-day?”
“That was Lettie; she is my landlady’s niece and a friend of mine.”
“A friend, is that all?” repeated Elwell, with a sneer.
“Egad, sometimes a friend is plenty,” retorted Coleman. “I’ll tell you what it is,” he went on, “if you can’t get out of this scrape in any other way, I will get Lettie to help you. The house and furniture are all right.”
“And the girl?” inquired Elwell.
“The girl? Oh, she is able to carry anything,” replied Coleman, with confidence.
“Yes: but is she a person that one would care to have one’s wife know?”
“That,” replied Coleman, “is just as one happened to feel about it. If you can’t do better, you might try.”
And with that poor consolation, Elwell was obliged to return to the hotel.
Of course, he was greatly surprised to see Fanny and her father. He had taken good care to receive no notice of their arrival until they walked in on him in the dining room, so as to intensify the surprise as much as possible.
“I am so glad you are here,” he said, beaming on Fanny. “But why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Oh, that was the surprise,” replied Fanny. “I wanted to see you just as you were. Have you been a good boy all day?”
“A very busy one, at any rate,” he replied. “But I am glad I am done for the day. Perhaps it will be possible to secure good seats at the opera.”
Fanny clapped her hands joyfully.
“That will be splendid!” she cried. “And then to-morrow you can introduce me to some of your friends.”
“I am afraid I shall be very busy to-morrow,” faltered Elwell.
“Oh, nonsense!” retorted his fiancée. “You can spare me some time, I hope.”
“I should hope so,” said Elwell meekly; while old Pat, who was an interested listener, grinned and advised him to give in at once.
“You are only getting a taste of it now,” said Pat, chuckling; “but you can judge what to expect after you are married.”
Perhaps Elwell had his own ideas of what to expect after marriage; but if he had, he managed to conceal them for the present. So, leaving the fair Fanny to robe herself in her finest costume, he went to buy the tickets that were already reposing in his pocket.
Fanny was delighted with everything, and therefore good-natured.
“You are a dear, good boy,” she said upon bidding him good night. “And I will not trouble you any more than I can help. But I have got an awful lot of things to buy, and I must have some lady with me. Some of your lady friends will assist me, I know.”
Poor Elwell was not at all sure of that, and he wandered down into the office in a very discontented frame of mind.
There he found Mr. Peter Coleman, who had just dropped around, he said, to see if he could be of any use.
Elwell explained matters at length.
“I think I will turn up sick to-morrow,” he said dolefully. “I don’t see any other way out of it.”
“Why not try Lettie?” inquired Coleman. “She will fix matters for you. I will have her call, if you say so, and she will keep Miss Fanny too busy with her shopping to allow her to think of anything else.”
“But suppose any one should see them, and know Miss Lettie?” inquired Elwell. “Might not that prove embarrassing?”
“Not a bit,” replied Coleman confidently. “There are not a dozen people in Chicago that know her; and none of them know anything wrong about her.”
“It is a nasty thing to do,” grumbled Elwell. “But if I can rely upon you, I suppose it is my best way out.”
“You have relied on me before,” returned Coleman meaningly.
“Yes, I know it,” admitted Elwell quickly. “And, by the way, there is no danger of that getting out, is there?”
“Not unless either you or I let it out,” replied Peter, with a grin. “And it would not pay either of us to do it.”
“You are right,” said Elwell, speaking slowly and with great meaning. “It wouldn’t pay either of us.”
Fanny was delighted to receive a call from Miss Allan the next day, and more delighted when that lady volunteered to assist her in any way possible.
The result justified the predictions of the astute Coleman, for Fanny was buried up to her eyes during the day with her shopping.
This was very pleasant for Elwell; but the evenings were far from agreeable. There was always the theatre or opera to attend, and as they were invariably accompanied by Miss Allan, it was not at all pleasant. For, although Lettie was always stylishly and modestly dressed, and her behavior the pink of good breeding, Elwell had many reasons for believing her to be a very undesirable acquaintance for his future wife.
It would soon be over, however, and he would see that the acquaintanceship should never be renewed.
The worst of it was that he was obliged to treat her with the most ceremonious respect, and never dared to hint at any dissatisfaction on his part.
Old Pat was delighted with the young lady friend of his daughter, and Fanny herself was completely infatuated.
“You are a darling,” she said to Elwell, when, after a few days of bliss to her and misery for him, they started for home. “You are a darling, and I am awfully obliged to you for finding me so good a friend.”
Elwell mumbled something about being amply repaid.
“Of course you are,” replied the fair Fanny. “And there! I will give you a kiss for being such a good boy, and another one for the good friend you got for me, and another one because she has promised to come over and see us married.”
And she went gayly off, leaving Elwell stunned by this information.