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Updated: May 19, 2025
Jasper Wilmarth is not a man to be proud of in society, unless it is for his very ugliness and the almost deformity. She thinks of Venus and Vulcan. She might call him playfully her Vulcan; at least, she could to her friends. She will have a house of her own, she will be Mrs., and, after all, the world is much more tolerant to married women than to spinsters of an uncertain age.
"Oh," says Marcia, with the airy toss of her head, "it was not a love-match, although there was so much talk of Violet's heroism, and all that. And I wonder at Floyd, who could have done so much better, taking her after she had been handed round, as one might say, fairly gone begging for a husband!" "O Mrs. Wilmarth, not so bad as that!" and madame smiles with seductive encouragement.
Wilmarth, with a slow, irritating intonation that hardly conceals insolence, "feels able to advance for the three quarters, I can look after my share. I must confess that I am not an expert in mechanics, and may have been mistaken in some of my views. My late partner was very sanguine, while my temperament is of the doubting order. I am apt to go slowly, but I try to go surely.
Is no one to be allowed a word of counsel or advice? or even to know what schemes or plans are going on?" "Mr. Wilmarth, all that was settled at Mr. Sherburne's office. It was decided that, being the executor and trusted agent of my father, and also the husband of Miss St. Vincent, gave me the controlling voice, and you consented to the month's trial."
Wilmarth looks happy," says Violet, with gentle insistence. "I suppose he is, happy enough. But the marriage always has been a tremendous mystery to me. I should as soon have thought of the sky falling as Jasper Wilmarth marrying, and that he should take Marcia caps it all. I give it up," declares the young man.
Jasper Wilmarth is both pleased and interested in the puppet he can move hither and thither to his liking, and occasionally to his service. He is gratified to see her party a success, though somewhat annoyed at the defection of his brother-in-law, who so far has not been his guest. He is piqued, too, about the sudden journey, and remembers now that a telegram came for him this morning.
Violet's fortune is flung up, "The fortune no one else would touch, though it was offered to them," says Marcia, crushingly. Floyd loses his temper. "Marcia," he says, "never let me hear you make that accusation! Mr. Wilmarth went to Canada for that deliberate purpose, and urged his suit up to the very last day of Mr. St. Vincent's life.
"When was my hand offered to Mr. Eugene Grandon?" Marcia is a little frightened at her temerity, but she is in for it now, and may as well make a clean sweep of all her vexations. From Mr. Wilmarth she has gathered the idea that Floyd's marriage has been inimical to him, and that business would have been much better served by Violet's union with Eugene.
Fortunately for Marcia, and Floyd as well, Mr. Wilmarth has made a will in the first flush of marital satisfaction, bequeathing nearly everything to her, except a few legacies. It increased her adoration at the time, and did no harm to him since he knew he could change it if he saw passionately, decorously, and she can also enjoy her new found liberty.
You will have to know to-morrow; I have sold half my share to Wilmarth." "For what amount?" quietly asks the elder brother. "Twelve thousand dollars." Floyd has had one talk with Wilmarth of an extremely discouraging nature. Now it seems to him if Wilmarth is willing to invest more deeply, he cannot consider it quite hopeless. He does distrust the man. "You cannot do this, Eugene.
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