Custis, mockingly, "what trouble has he had, I
would like to know? Living in the woods like a Turk among his barefooted
forest concubines! Spending my money, raked and scraped by my poor
father in the sugar importation, to make puddle iron out of the swamp,
and be considered a smart man! The family is broken up. We are paupers,
and now 'it is save yourself.' I'll take care of you if I can, but your
father may starve for any aid I will give him."
"Then he shall have the only aid in my power, mother," said Vesta,
decisively.
"Your aid!" Mrs. Custis exclaimed. "What have you got? Your jewels, I
suppose? How long will they keep him? You had better keep your jewels,
girl, for your wedding, and have it come quickly, for marriage is now
your only salvation."
"My last jewel shall go, then," Vesta said, with a pale resolution that
darted through her veins like ice.
"Save your jewels," Mrs. Custis continued, "and choose a husband before
this thing is noised abroad! You have a good large list to select from.
There is your cousin, Chase McLane, crazy for you, and with an estate in
Kent. There is that young fool Carroll, with thousands of acres on the
western shore, and the widower Hynson of King George, Virginia, with
eighty slaves and his stables full of race-horses. You can marry any of
these Dennis boys, or take Captain Ringgold of Frederick, who lives in
elegance at West Point, or be mistress of Tench Purvience's mansion on
Monument Square in Baltimore.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125