I sailed for New York within a fortnight after poor Lucy's death, and have lived in America for the last fifteen years.

I have contrived to establish a tolerably flourishing trade there on my own account; a trade that only needs capital to become one of the first in New York." "Capital!" echoed Jacob Nowell; "I thought there was something wanted.

It would have been a foolish fancy to suppose that affection could have had anything to do with your coming to me." "My dear father, it is surely possible that affection and interest may sometimes go together.

Were I a pauper, I would not venture to present myself before you at all; but as a tolerably prosperous trader, with the ability to propose an alliance that should be to our mutual advantage, I considered I might fairly approach you." "I have no money to invest in your trade," the old man answered sternly.
"I am a very poor man, impoverished for life by the wicked extravagance of your youth.

If you have come to me with any hope of obtaining money from me, you have wasted time and trouble." "Let that subject drop, then," Percival Nowell said lightly.