“Sybil,” said she, “you must go to bed at once. You are tired out. It was very wrong in me to let you sit up so late. Go now, and get some sleep.”
“I am not going to bed till you do, Maude!” replied Sybil, with quiet obstinacy.
“Go, dear! it is all settled. I shall not marry Mr. Ratcliffe. You need not be anxious about it any more.”
“Are you very unhappy?”
“Only very angry with myself. I ought to have taken Mr. Carrington's advice sooner.”
“Oh, Maude!” exclaimed Sybil, with a sudden explosion of energy; “I wish you had taken him!”
This remark roused Mrs. Lee to new interest: “Why, Sybil,” said she, “surely you are not in earnest?”
“Indeed, I am,” replied Sybil, very decidedly. “I know you think I am in love with Mr. Carrington myself, but I'm not. I would a great deal rather have him for a brother-in-law, and he is so much the nicest man you know, and you could help his sisters.”
Mrs. Lee hesitated a moment, for she was not quite certain whether it was wise to probe a healing wound, but she was anxious to clear this last weight from her mind, and she dashed recklessly forward:
“Are you sure you are telling the truth, Sybil? Why, then, did you say that you cared for him? and why have you been so miserable ever since he went away?”