In the midst of this early work he married Mrs. Semple.  There was no vast to-do about it, as he did not want any and his bride-to-be was nervous, fearsome of public opinion.  His family did not entirely approve.  She was too old, his mother and father thought, and then Frank, with his prospects, could have done much better.  His sister Anna fancied that Mrs. Semple was designing, which was, of course, not true.  His brothers, Joseph and Edward, were interested, but not certain as to what they actually thought, since Mrs. Semple was good-looking and had some money.

It was a warm October day when he and Lillian went to the altar, in the First Presbyterian Church of Callowhill Street.  His bride, Frank was satisfied, looked exquisite in a trailing gown of cream lace—­a creation that had cost months of labor.  His parents, Mrs. Seneca Davis, the Wiggin family, brothers and sisters, and some friends were present.  He was a little opposed to this idea, but Lillian wanted it.  He stood up straight and correct in black broadcloth for the wedding ceremony—­because she wished it, but later changed to a smart business suit for traveling.  He had arranged his affairs for a two weeks’ trip to New York and Boston.  They took an afternoon train for New York, which required five hours to reach.  When they were finally alone in the Astor House, New York, after hours of make-believe and public pretense of indifference, he gathered her in his arms.

“Oh, it’s delicious,” he exclaimed, “to have you all to myself.”

She met his eagerness with that smiling, tantalizing passivity which he had so much admired but which this time was tinged strongly with a communicated desire.  He thought he should never have enough of her, her beautiful face, her lovely arms, her smooth, lymphatic body.  They were like two children, billing and cooing, driving, dining, seeing the sights.  He was curious to visit the financial sections of both cities.  New York and Boston appealed to him as commercially solid.  He wondered, as he observed the former, whether he should ever leave Philadelphia.  He was going to be very happy there now, he thought, with Lillian and possibly a brood of young Cowperwoods.  He was going to work hard and make money.  With his means and hers now at his command, he might become, very readily, notably wealthy.

Chapter X

The home atmosphere which they established when they returned from their honeymoon was a great improvement in taste over that which had characterized the earlier life of Mrs. Cowperwood as Mrs. Semple.  They had decided to occupy her house, on North Front Street, for a while at least.  Cowperwood, aggressive in his current artistic mood, had objected at once after they were engaged to the spirit of the furniture and decorations, or lack of them, and had suggested that he be allowed to have it brought more in keeping with his idea of what was appropriate.  During