Love stories; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
"Yes, Mr. Merwyn," continued her mother, with an emphasis somewhat
irritable. "He is not an old, worn-out millionnaire, like Mr.
Lanniere. He is young, exceedingly handsome, so high-born that he
is received as an equal in the houses of the titled abroad. He has
come to me like an honorable man, and asked for the privilege of
paying his addresses. He would have asked your father had he been
in town. He was frank about his affairs, and has just received,
in his own name, a very large property, which he proposes to double
by entering upon business in New York."
"What does his mother think of his intentions toward me?" the young
girl asked, so quietly, that Mrs. Vosburgh was really encouraged.
"He says that he and his mother differ on many points, and will
differ on this one, and that is all he seemed inclined to say,
except to remark significantly that he had attained his majority."
"It was he whom you meant, when you said that some one might come
who would divert my thoughts?"
"I think he would have come, had it not been for the storm."
"Mamma, you have not given him any encouragement? You have not
compromised yourself, or me?"
Mrs. Vosburgh bridled with the beginnings of resentment, and said,
"Marian, you should know me too well--"
"There, there, mamma, I was wrong to think of such a thing; I ask
your pardon."
"I may have my sensible wishes and preferences," resumed the lady,
complacently, "but I have never yet acted the role of the anxious,
angling mamma. I cannot help wishing, however, that you would
consider favorably an offer like this one, and I certainly could
not treat Mr. Merwyn otherwise than with courtesy."
"That was right and natural of you, mamma. You have no controversy
with Mr. Merwyn; I have. I hate and detest him. Well, since he may
come, I shall dress and be prepared."
"O Marian! you are so quixotic!"
"Dear mamma, you are mistaken. Do not think me inconsiderate of
you. Some day I will prove I am not by my marriage, if I marry;"
and she went to her mother and kissed her tenderly.
Then by a sudden transition she drew herself up with the dark,
inscrutable expression that was becoming characteristic since deeper
experiences had entered into her life, and said, firmly:--
"Should I do as you suggest, I should be false to those true friends
who have gone to fight, perhaps to die; false to my father; false
to all that's good and true in my own soul. As to my heart," she
concluded, with a contemptuous shrug, "that has nothing to do with
the affair. Mamma, you must promise me one thing. I do not wish
you to meet Mr. Merwyn to-night. Please excuse yourself if he asks
for you. I will see him."
"Mark my words, Marian, you will marry a poor man."
"Oh, I have no objection to millionnaires," replied the girl,
with a short, unmirthful laugh, "but they must begin their suit in
a manner differing from that of two who have favored me;" and she
went to her room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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