About the middle of May, Marcia Grandon makes her grand _coup de grace_. She fancies she has had it all her own way, that she has planned; but some one behind was gently manipulating the cords of his puppet. There have been delicious stolen interviews, notes, and the peculiar half-intrigue, half-deception Marcia so loves. Violet has remarked an odd change in her; Mrs. Grandon has been a good deal occupied, and has grown accustomed to her daughter's vagaries, so no one has paid any special heed. Marcia has ordered a _trousseau_ in the city, and one fine morning goes down in her airiest manner, and in pearl silk is made Mrs. Wilmarth. From thence they send out cards, and Marcia writes to her mother, to Laura, who comes in haste, and is both angry and incredulous; angry that Jasper Wilmarth should have been brought into the family, when she had done it the honor to connect it with the Vandervoorts and Delancys. Marcia is quite resplendent in silk and lace, and does look blissfully content. "What an awful fool you have made of yourself!" is the tender salutation, since Mr. Wilmarth is not present. "What you ever could see in _that_ man passes my comprehension! He may do for business, but if _I_ understand rightly, Floyd is not over-fond of him. I suppose that was why you married on the sly?" "I married to please myself," says Marcia, bridling, "and I dare say you did the same. I have a husband who is kind and generous and noble, who loves me and whom I love, and if fate has in some ways treated him unkindly, he shall learn that there is one woman in the world brave enough to make it up to him." She repeats this almost like a lesson learned by rote. "Bosh," returns Laura, with contemptuous superiority. "I dare say you thought it would be the last chance!" "Oh, I have heard of women marrying even at forty," retorts Marcia, with a shrill little laugh. "And to do it in that way! Whatever possessed you to make such an idiot of yourself. To bring _that_ man in the family!" "You forget he is my husband, Mrs. Delancy," and Marcia braves her resolutely. At this moment the door opens and the obnoxious person enters, having heard his wife's last sentence. He walks straight up to Laura, with determination in every line of his countenance. "Ah, Mrs. Delancy," he says, and then adds in a meaning tone, with a kind of bitter suavity, "I suppose we do not need to be introduced. Although I never was much of a visitor in my late partner's household, I have known you all, and I suppose am entitled to a little friendly recognition for Marcia's sake. We have taken our step in a most unorthodox manner, but it suited ourselves, our only apology." "Extremely unorthodox," says Laura, in a biting tone. "But we propose to make it orthodox as soon as possible. Marcia, brave girl, would have married me in the face of any staring audience. She might have had a younger and handsomer bridegroom, but she can hardly have a husband who will care more tenderly for her."