This sort of felt like a Franken-Romance book, a bunch of odds and ends cut from other stories and pieces together.
Our heroine, our poor beautiful heroine, with the strictest of morals, who reads Anna Karenina, and keeps her family, consisting of a sick sister, a dreamer for a Father and a small brother. Is found languishing away in the laundry room, when she catches the eye of a man, a fine figure of man who may or may not be une homosexuel. He invites her to a party, an ill fated event where she runs into an older Jewish gentleman, a rich one, who is oh, so fatherly till she get's in his yacht, and things take a scandalous turn of events, when he propositions her, and she begins a slightly torrid love affair,embracing the life of a mistress.
Then the chap in the beginning finds them, and with a cry of "No, you are ruining her goddesslike beauty," or something about virtue (which is debatable at this point) a gun is produced, a struggle ensues, it fires, and our heroine is maimed. Sacre' Bleu! Oh the scandal, the depravity. Our rich debauched Jewish gentlemen, is besmirched, neigh, irretrievably! He takes his life with the self-same gun! No! But, yes! Only after altering his will to provide bountifully for the now heavily pregnant 19 year old.
Who promptly buys a cottage in a care facility to help her sister with her tuberculosis and raise her son.
Left to be continued. Or not, depending on the sort of reader you are.