“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?