H. De Vere Stacpoole

“ The house of Wilder is at its zenith. Speaking in a worldly sense, I am worth at least fifty thousand a year, at least, and the house of Sinclair?—you are its last representative, how much are you worth?"
"Less than nothing."
"Let us be friends then, let us be friends," said Wilder, in a voice full of supplication. How strange it sounded to hear a man like this, wealthy and great, asking for my friendship. "Let us be friends,—the two last representatives of these great houses must forgive each other. Love can heal this awful wound, and the house of Wilder shall not be extinct. ”

“ Beatrice Sinclair, you shall never want again, never be cold or hungry."
I was crying like a child. When I could cry no more he began speaking again.
"You must stay in this house until you start, that is, if you please. My carriage shall take you to all the shops you require to visit; by the way, spend all that money on clothes. I will give you a note to the jewellers with whom I deal in Bond Street, and you can supply yourself with all the jewellery you require; don't think about the expense. You are beautiful by nature, but I wish you to be as beautiful as art can make you. ”

“ A member of the Wilder family did a fearful wrong upon a member of the Sinclair family. No family feud took place, because Gerald Wilder, who had committed this wrong, expiated it by suicide, but a blind, reasonless, unintentional feud has been going on between the two houses ever since. The house of Sinclair has warred with our family in a strange and fearful manner. All the eldest sons of our house have been slain before the age of twenty by—a Sinclair. ”