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. He would have been
too glad to have swept the whole concern into his hands, and swallowed
up your portion as well. It has been an unthankful office from first to
last, and but for my father's sake I should have thrown it up at once."

Marcia is white to the lips. Either Jasper Wilmarth has deceived her,
or her brother Floyd standing here does not tell the truth! To foolish
Marcia there has been something quite heroic in Mr. Wilmarth refusing
so tempting an offer and choosing _her_.

"He did not care for such a mere child," she says, with obstinate
pride.

"But he _did_ care for the money. And in the mean while he was
depreciating the business and doing his utmost to ruin it. If _you_
love him," he says, "well and good, but do not insist that I shall. I
can never either honor or esteem him. I saw through him too easily."

"I think you are very indiscreet, Marcia," exclaims her mother, when
Floyd has left the room. "Do try to keep peaceable. It is a shame to
have you quarrelling all the time! How could he help disposing of the
business? It was only held in trust until it could be settled."

For Mrs. Grandon has resolved herself into quite a comfortable frame of
mind. Eugene will not come to grief; on the contrary, his prospects are
so bright that her spirits rise accordingly. He is her darling, her
pride. She has no foolish jealousy of the young girl who is to be his
wife,--she could not have chosen better herself. Her motherly cares are
at an end, her income is assured. She would rather have Madame
Lepelletier in Violet's place, but she will not allow the one bitter to
spoil so much sweet.

Madame Lepelletier is somewhat amazed at the turn affairs have taken.
Eugene has not been the trump card she hoped. There is so much going on
at the great house that she is quite distanced.

But one evening Floyd comes down with a message that he has not cared
to trust to others. It is a little cool, and she has a bit of fire in
the grate, though the windows are open to the dewy, sweet air. All is
so quiet and tranquil, and for a month there has been little save
confusion and flying to and fro at home.

She remarks that he is thinner and there is a restlessness in the eyes,
while the face is set and stern.

"You are