terprise.

The old man was certainly the lion of the season. He had steadily gone
on from step to step on the ladder of fame (for enormous wealth), until
now he was quoted as not only the richest man of his State, but as one
of the ten richest men in the world.

It was at this time that Mr. Fabian bethought himself of taking a wife.
It was indeed quite time that he should marry, if he ever intended to do
so. He was nearly fifty-two years of age, though looking no more than
forty; his erect and active figure, his fresh and smooth complexion, his
curling brown hair and beard, his smiling countenance and cheerful
demeanor, rendered him quite an attractive man to young ladies, who
credited him with fully twenty years less than his due.

There was, at this time, among the lovely "rosebuds" opening in the
fashionable drawing rooms of the city, a sweet "wood violet," otherwise
Violet Wood; a perfect blonde, with perfect features and a petite
figure. Her beauty was peculiar; she was very small, very dainty; her
hair the palest yellow, her face so white that almost the only color on
her features were her deep blue eyes and crimson lips.

She was an orphan heiress, without any near relation in the world.
Though but eighteen years of age, and just from school, she had already
entered on the possession of her fortune by the terms of her father's
will. She lived with her former guardians, the Chief Justice Pendletime
and his wife.

They had given a grand ball to introduce their ward into society. The
Rockharrts had been invited, of course. And they had all been present.
The Wood Violet, as admirers transposed her name, was equally, of
course, the belle of the evening.

The tall, towering sunflower, Mr. Fabian, fell instantly and
irrecoverably in love with this tiny white wood violet. Many others fell
in love with her, but none to the depth of Mr. Fabian. He resolved to
"take time by the forelock," "not to let the grass grow under his feet"
in this love chase.

The very next morning he said to his father:

"You have lately expressed a wish to see me married, sir. I have been,
in obedience to your commands, looking out for a wife. I think I have
found a woman to suit me, and, what is more to the purpose, to suit you,
sir. However, if I should be mistaken in your taste, I shall, of course,
give up the thought of proposing to her," added artful Mr. Fabian, who
felt perfectly sure that his father would approve his choice.

"Wh