“I think the amount of solid knowledge about men that you dear, sweet, lovely, beautiful, innocent little girls possess is something just too perfectly amazing!” said Mrs. Wyndham, slowly, and with great emphasis.
“If we do,” said Sybil, “it is not surprising. I am sure I do not wonder at girls knowing a great deal about the world. Everything is discussed before them, and marriage and men are the usual topics of conversation. The wonder is that girls still make so many mistakes in their choice, after listening to the combined experience of all the married women of their acquaintance for several years. It shows that no one is infallible.”
“What a funny girl you are, Sybil!” exclaimed Mrs. Wyndham. “I think you turn the tables on me altogether.”
“Yes? Well, I have experiences of my own now,” said Sybil, leaning back against an enormous cushion.
Mrs. Wyndham came and sat upon the arm of the easy-chair, and put one arm round Sybil’s neck and kissed her.
“Sybil, dear,” she said affectionately, and then stopped.
They sat in silence for some time, looking at the great logs burning in the deep fire-place.
“Sybil, dear,” Mrs. Wyndham began again, presently, “why did you refuse Vancouver? You do not mind telling me, do you?”
“Why do you ask?” said Sybil. “It makes no difference now.”
“No, perhaps not. Only I always thought it strange. He must have done something you did not like, of course.”