James Elwell, by the way, was making a more protracted stay in this city of sand and sawdust than he had anticipated. He had only expected to stay a few days, unless he ran on to a good speculation. And here it was six weeks since he arrived home with Patrick Morain, and he had no thought of leaving yet. As for the speculation, he had apparently forgotten all about it, for he devoted himself to the fair Fanny assiduously. It is possible that he considered this charming creature in the light of a speculation, for he was evidently making a vigorous assault on her affections, and apparently with a fair prospect of success. Old Pat was fully aware of what was transpiring at his house. I doubt that he could help being aware of it, for Elwell, with the most charming audacity, made love to his daughter under his very nose. And if Pat had any objections to this proceeding, he carefully disguised them, for he would only grin contentedly at some open demonstration of affection, and take himself off to the mills, in the meantime introducing Elwell among his friends as a young friend of his who was looking for a business opening. By this means, Elwell soon acquired the reputation of being a wealthy speculator, who was backed by Morain, and as Morain’s backing represented something over a million dollars, there was never any doubt expressed as to the solvency of Mr. James Elwell. “I declare, Mr. Elwell,” said Fanny one day, when he had returned from a trip to the mills of almost an hour’s duration; “you are getting almost as bad as papa,” and she pouted affectedly. “I wish I were as good,” replied Elwell truthfully. “But how have I displeased you?” “Oh, you have not displeased me, but if you find anything interesting about that horrid mill, I pity your taste, that’s all,” and she looked as if she thought he might find something vastly more interesting not far from herself. “But this is a matter of business,” protested Elwell, with a tender glance. “Oh!” cried Fanny, with a little scream of horror. “You do not mean to say that you are going into business here?” “Why not?” inquired Elwell, to get his cue. “I just think it a shame if papa inveigles you into that horrid business! It will just doom you to perpetual exile in this horrid place!” “I do not find it horrid;” and he glanced at her, as if he thought any place was pleasant where she was. Fanny blushed and simpered at his open look of affection. “You have not answered my question, sir,” she said. “Do you intend to go into business here?” “That depends. I am much more likely to leave here soon,” and he sighed heavily. “But surely you would not be content to live here forever?” “Oh, no,” he replied quickly. “I should not live here. I would make my home in Chicago or New York, and should only come here often enough to superintend the business; but I do not think I am very likely to enter into business here.”