View source for Extravagant Living CHAPTER 11.

'''Back to [[Extravagant Living]]'''
----
<p>The <em>heart-wound </em>in the case of Pinkerton was not very deep — although he suffered rather severely from <em>disappointment </em>and mortification, and sank a few degrees in his own estimation. Possessing too little self-denial to base his future worldly well-being on present industry and economy — he had very deliberately resolved to look out for a <em>rich wife</em>. This was the first promising affair. The disaster came at the very moment when he felt that all doubt of a successful outcome was over. He had <em>aimed high</em> — but the <em>arrow </em>failed to reach the mark. He was not long in bending his bow again. This time, he was less ambitious; and there was, perhaps, a little more heart in the case. Still, <em>worldly considerations</em>had their influence.<br><br>
The <em>new flame </em>of Pinkerton's was a <em>Miss Flora Allen</em> — the only daughter of James Allen, Esq., attorney-at-law. Miss Allen had a very pretty face, was passably well-educated and accomplished, moved in 'good society' and possessed a due regard for all of its fashionable requirements. She had begun to feel a little concerned about the matrimonial future, when young Pinkerton came in her way. He was <em>good-looking</em>, <em>dressed </em>well and <em>talked </em>well; moreover, someone had spoken of him as a young man of no ordinary business capacity, and likely to rise in the world rapidly.<br><br>
On the other hand, the Allens belonged to what was called a "good family," though it must be owned, that some members thereof had acted very badly. Indeed, the maternal grandfather of the young lady had once been tried for the embezzlement of public moneys, and only escaped a term in the State prison through a flaw in the indictment; while an uncle on her father's side, after betraying the sister of his most intimate friend, shot him in a duel. Still the <em>family </em>was a 'good one,' and Pinkerton felt that an alliance therewith, was something quite desirable. Moreover, if common report was to be credited, Mr. Allen, though not the possessor of large wealth, owned several pieces of property in good locations, which were destined, in time, to be very valuable. His practice at the bar was considered lucrative.<br><br>
The advances of Pinkerton in this quarter, though encouraged by Miss Flora, were not countenanced by the proud father, who was very far from thinking an alliance with a poor clerk, of obscure extraction — in the least desirable. He belonged to a "good family;" and so did the mother of Flora, who was equally averse to any <em>baseborn marriage connection </em>for her daughter.<br><br>
Opposition in the case had its usual effect. Flora only gave her heart away more fully, while Pinkerton, from meeting with coldness from the parents, very naturally came to set a higher value than at first, upon the young lady. And so the <em>spark </em>at first kindled, was soon blown into a <em>flame</em>. Acting on first impulses, an offer of marriage was made, and promptly accepted by the young lady; though, with the understanding that Pinkerton was to use every possible means to gain the consent of her father, who would, she knew, most positively object to their marriage.<br><br>
The first approach of Pinkerton to the proud lawyer was met by <em>angry insult</em>. Mr. Allen flung him off with a bitter contempt, which hurt the young man's feelings like the <em>bite of a serpent</em>. He felt, for the first time in his life, the towering insolence of that <em>mere family pride </em>which bases itself on the elevation of ancestors above the few common people around them, at a time when "giants in the land" were few, and when <em>conceit of personal superiority </em>fed itself on what would now be considered very meager nourishment.<br><br>
"I shall never go to your father again," was the young man's positive assertion, when next he found himself alone with Flora Allen. "I hold myself to be a man, and worthy an alliance with the proudest and the best. He chose to <em>insult </em>me — and I will not again repeat the attempt."<br><br>
Flora soothed her lover as best she could, promised eternal fidelity; and ended by saying that she would marry him with or without her father's consent, should opposition continue. The fact is, Flora liked the spirit of the young man; and was much better pleased at his <em>manly indignation against her father</em>, than if he had shown a more conciliatory temper.<br><br>
Thus stood affairs at the time of <em>Lofton's </em>marriage; and the reader can very well understand why <em>Pinkerton </em>felt desirous of getting into business for himself. To marry under present circumstances, was not to be thought of for a moment. On six hundred dollars a year, he had not been able to meet even his <em>own </em>expenses — and was now at least three hundred dollars in <em>debt</em>. To add a wife to the cost of living — and that wife the daughter of James Allen, Esq. — would have been folly indeed. The consummation of his dearest wishes was not, therefore, of possible attainment, until he could rise above the condition of <em>clerk</em>, and take the appellation of <em>merchant</em>.<br><br>
The <em>young man</em>, possessing a capital of ten thousand dollars, of whom he had spoken to his friend Lofton — was quite as anxious to begin the world for himself as Pinkerton. He had but few acquaintances in the city among business men: was by no means shrewd or "pushing," and had, from some cause, formed a very high opinion of Pinkerton's talents for merchandising, and ability to influence trade — an opinion which Pinkerton took every opportunity to strengthen. And, in truth, Pinkerton was a young man of no meager business capacity. He had in him, all the elements of a thrifty merchant — lacking patience. Everything moved too slow for him. He was too eager to grasp results; to draw sight drafts, so to speak, on the future. As a clerk, so was he likely to be as a merchant — ever <em>anticipating </em>his income.<br><br>
In due time, the proposed co-partnership was formed, and Baltimore Street saw, one morning, an additional sign, in gold and blue, bearing the names of <em>Pinkerton &amp; Ackland</em>, while the new firm was announced in the "American" and "Patriot," and circulars sent off through the mails to various country merchants whose custom Pinkerton hoped to influence.<br><br>
With ten thousand dollars as a cash capital, our young beginners found no difficulty in obtaining all the goods they were disposed to buy. Everybody wanted to sell to them. With a handsome store, a handsome assortment of goods, the reputation of having double the cash capital really possessed — for common report wonderfully magnifies these things, sometimes; and a forward, active, soliciting manner on the part of the leading business member of the now firm — sales were made, in the first year, of something over forty thousand dollars' worth of goods; and, what was a little remarkable, considering the anxiety felt by Pinkerton to sell, very few bad debts were made.<br><br>
The fact that his daughter's lover was in business for himself, and in connection with a man of "large capital" — we quote from common rumor — failed to remove objections to the proposed alliance from the mind of Mr. Allen. All this did not make purer the "blood" which coursed through the young man's veins. And, moreover, Mr. Allen was a close observer, and shrewd enough to know that success is the <em>exception</em>, and not the <em>rule</em>, for young men who make a bold start in business, even with a few thousand dollars to back them. A bankrupt son-in-law, he said to himself, would be no flattering addition to his family circle. And so he continued to set his face like brass against the proposed union.<br><br>
What, then, was to be done? Our lovers were quite independent in their way of <em>thinking</em> — and this kind of thinking usually shows itself in independent <em>action</em>. The unexpected amount of business done by the new firm quite lifted Pinkerton above the earth. He saw himself on the high road to fortune, and at no very great distance from the <em>glittering goal</em>. The first business year had passed. The estimate of profits had been made, and the business for the next year beautifully and flatteringly displayed on paper. How rapidly and rejoicingly did the blood go dancing through the young man's veins! Everything looked <em>promising </em>beyond his warmest anticipations. He already felt like a rich man. Not a dollar of personal debt, beyond a new current tailor's bill, was against him anywhere. Every old claim had been cancelled, even to the six dollars, lacking a quarter, due Bridget, the washerwoman.<br><br>
<em>How does his individual account stand on the books of the new firm? </em>asks someone. Let us see. <em>Sixteen hundred dollars! </em>That does look rather formidable. So we think; and so thought Mr. Ackland, his partner, to whose debit just six hundred dollars had been passed during the same period of time. What did Pinkerton do with so much money? How did he, with only himself to support, manage to get rid of so large a sum? It is easily explained. A few hundred dollars went to pay off old obligations. Then it cost something for the handsome <em>gold watch </em>and <em>diamond ring</em>, which he generously presented to his lady love, and for the fancy <em>horse and buggy </em>which so frequently bore them away from the hot and dusty city — to drink the pure, breezy air of the pleasant environs. The reader, from this hint, will find no difficulty in gathering additional items to make up the imposing aggregate.<br><br>
What was to be done by the lovers, we have asked — seeing that Mr. Allen would not consent to their union? That question, it was easy to decide. Get married without his consent! And this it was now resolved to do. Pinkerton considered himself perfectly able to take a wife, and to maintain her in the style in which his wife should live. On announcing this intention to his partner, Ackland received the news rather coldly. Already he had been turning over in his thoughts, and not with much pleasure to himself, the large sum which Pinkerton had drawn out during the year; and he was not altogether satisfied, either as to the <em>necessity </em>for such a large abstraction, or as to the <em>use </em>which had been made of the money. "If," he very naturally said to himself, "it takes sixteen hundred dollars a year to support him as a <em>single </em>man —  then it will take at least double that sum to meet his expenses as a married man."<br><br>
But the cogitations of Mr. Ackland, as they did not find their way into verbal expression, had no effect upon Mr. Mark Pinkerton, who, having made up his mind to get married, at once forwarded all due arrangements for the important business. Being a merchant, and in the process of "making money," he felt it not only due to his own position, but to that of his intended bride, also, to set up, in the beginning, a home of his own. To this end, he took a house in Courtland Street, at a rent of four hundred dollars — a pretty good rent in that day — and furnished it at a cost of over two thousand dollars. For the greater part of this sum, the cabinet-maker, carpet-dealer, and upholsterer, very readily took his notes payable in six months. The next act was to <em>run away with Flora Allen</em>, get the matrimonial knot tied, and then introduce her into her new home — all of which was done in the usual romantic way, and all of which became town talk for the ensuing nine days.<br><br>
To James Allen, Esq., and his high-born wife, the event was not altogether unexpected. Though common rumor credited them with sundry most unparental and unchristian speeches on the occasion, we believe they wisely forbore to give utterance to anything very savage, or to commit themselves in broad declarations that might, at some future time, have to be recalled. Yet it is not to be concealed, that they were <em>greatly indignant </em>at the event, and considered themselves and their family <em>eternally disgraced </em>by so lowborn an alliance.<br><br>
Of course, Flora wrote home immediately on her marriage, humbly asking <em>forgiveness </em>for an act which was <em>unrepented </em>of — and of course her letter remained unanswered. She would have been surprised, and, perhaps, a little disappointed, had it been otherwise. Too quick a reconciliation would have stripped the affair of more than half of its <em>romance</em>. The reconciliation came in due time, though not with a good grace. Pinkerton was ever made to feel that the blood flowing in his veins, was not worthy to mingle with the blood of an<em> Allen!</em>
----
'''Back to [[Extravagant Living]]'''