Chapter II

George Harrison was a “crack salesman,” and save and excepting that he rather over-estimated his talents and business ability, he was a fine fellow.

He did not believe in looking on the dark side of things. His heart was full of hope, and he confidently expected that whatever he put his hand upon would be instantly turned into money.

George was a young man of spirit, and he did not relish the manner in which his prospective father-in-law had treated him.

“He used me like a boy,” mumbled George, as he left the counting room of Mr. Miller; “just as though he knew every thing, and I didn’t know any thing. But I’ll teach him better than that.”

Directing his steps to the house of Mr. Miller, he found Hannah, his lady love, arrayed for a walk.

“I have bad news, my dear,” said he.

“Bad news! Why, what, George?”

“Let us walk to the Common, and I will tell you all about it.”

Seated on one of the stone seats by the “Frog Pond,” George narrated the substance of his interview with Mr. Miller.

“But he only postponed the matter for six months George,” said Hannah, relieved by his statement. “Perhaps it would be better to put it off.”

“You know, dearest, we intended to be married next month.”

“Still, we can wait.”

“There is no need of waiting, Hannah.”

“Perhaps there is not; but if my father thinks so, hadn’t we better humor him?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why, what would you do?”

“Be married;” and George told her how romantic it would be to run away to New York, and come home man and wife—how it would surprise their friends.

Hannah’s “spirit” was fully equal to that of George; and the moment she began to feel that her “cruel father” was persecuting them, she was ready for any thing, even for an elopement.

The arrangement was made, and George hired the house he had looked at. Rowe & Co. furnished it, and took George’s note on six months in payment, with a mortgage for security.

The new store was opened, and things went on “swimmingly.” Business was good, and every body said George was making money “hand over fist.”

At the appointed time the elopement took place. The newspapers duly chronicled the event, and, for a time, George was a lion. The ladies, eager to behold and converse with a gentleman who had the “spunk” to tear a persecuted daughter from the grasp of a cruel father, and elope with her, flocked to his store. The elopement was a decided hit, and George’s gains were largely augmented by it.

The happy couple took up their residence in the new house. It was beautifully furnished, and Hannah felt that she was a queen in paradise. To her the day was not long enough to hold all the happiness that crowded upon her.

And her father, too, instead of treating her harshly after the rash step she had taken, came to see her, was as kind to her as though nothing had happened, and never said a single word about the elopement. Her cup of joy was full.

George was a prince. He was coining money; he snapped his fingers at the notes, and wondered what Mr. Miller said now!

Flushed with success, he returned home one night after an unusually good day’s sale, and, after kissing his wife—they were just married,—and playfully chucking her under the chin, he vented his exuberant satisfaction in a rhapsody on the joys of life.

“Happy as princes!” exclaimed he. “The money pours in as fast as I care to handle it.”

“How glad I am!” responded Hannah, artlessly.

“We have nothing more to wish for, have we, Hannah?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know! Why, I thought you were perfectly happy.”

“So I am, dear George; but I was thinking, the other day, how pleasant it would be to have a piano in the house,” replied she, with some little diffidence.

“So it would, Hannah; what a dolt I have been not to think of it! I have felt all along as though there was some thing wanting.”

“But I hope, George, you will not buy one if you cannot afford to do so.”

“Afford to! Certainly I can; I shall be a rich man in one year. You shall have one of Chickering’s best to-morrow.”

On the following day the piano came. George paid cash for it from his surplus funds. But no sooner had the piano come than Hannah began to feel that the rest of their furniture in the parlor did not correspond with it. George agreed with the proposition, and their parlor furniture was sent to Leonard’s forthwith. A new and expensive set was furnished, and paid for in cash.

Thus things went on for several months. It took all of George’s profits to keep house and buy the new things which were every day discovered to be wanting.

The dull season had come on, and George suddenly found that there was no more business to be done. He had not even money enough at the end of six months to pay his second quarter’s rent, to say nothing of the notes which came due at that time.