elebrated for her
loveliness.

Every one has read the story of that marriage; goodness knows, the
papers made the most of it, as is their custom. Young Ed., who knew
much more of the world than did his father, expected stern opposition,
and, knowing the unlimited power unlimited wealth gave to the old man,
he did not risk an interview with his parent, but eloped with the girl.
The first inkling old man Druce had of the affair was from a vivid
sensational account of the runaway in an evening paper. He was pictured
in the paper as an implacable father who was at that moment searching
for the elopers with a shot gun. Old Druce had been too often the
central figure of a journalistic sensation to mind what the sheet said.
He promptly telegraphed all over the country, and, getting into
communication with his son, asked him (electrically) as a favour to
bring his young wife home, and not make a fool of himself. So the
errant pair, much relieved, came back to New York.

Old Druce was a taciturn man, even with his only son. He wondered at
first that the boy should have so misjudged him as to suppose he would
raise objections, no matter whom the lad wished to marry. He was
bewildered rather than enlightened when Ed. told him he feared
opposition because the girl was poor. What difference on earth did
_that_ make? Had he not money enough for all of them? If not, was
there any trouble in adding to their store? Were there not railroads to
be wrecked; stockholders to be fleeced; Wall Street lambs to be shorn?
Surely a man married to please himself and not to make money. Ed.
assured the old man that cases had been known where a suspicion of
mercenary motives had hovered round a matrimonial alliance, but Druce
expressed the utmost contempt for such a state of things.

At first Ella had been rather afraid of her silent father-in-law, whose
very name made hundreds tremble and thousands curse, but she soon
discovered that the old man actually stood in awe of her, and that his
apparent brusqueness was the mere awkwardness he felt when in her
presence. He was anxious to please her, and worried himself wondering
whether there was anything she wanted.

One day he fumblingly dropped a cheque for a million dollars in her
lap, and, with some nervous confusion, asked her to run out, like a
good girl, and buy herself something; if that wasn't enough, she was to
call on him for more. The girl sprang from her chair and threw her arms
around his