Democracy · Chapter 10 (3/3)

Tuesday night, after this had gone on for two days, Sybil was in Madeleine’s room, where she often stayed to talk while her sister was at her toilet. This evening she threw herself listlessly on the couch, and within five minutes again quoted Carrington. Madeleine turned from the glass before which she was sitting, and looked her steadily in the face.

“Sybil,” said she, “this is the twenty-fourth time you have mentioned Mr. Carrington since we sat down to dinner. I have waited for the round number to decide whether I should take any notice of it or not? what does it mean, my child? Do you care for Mr. Carrington?”

“Oh, Maude!” exclaimed Sybil reproachfully, flushing so violently that, even by that dim light, her sister could not but see it.

Mrs. Lee rose and, crossing the room, sat down by Sybil who was lying on the couch and turned her face away. Madeleine put her arms round her neck and kissed her.

“My poor⁠—poor child!” said she pityingly. “I never dreamed of this! What a fool I have been! How could I have been so thoughtless! Tell me!” she added, with a little hesitation; “has he⁠—does he care for you?”

“No! no!” cried Sybil, fairly breaking down into a burst of tears; “no! he loves you! nobody but you! he never gave a thought to me. I don’t care for him so very much,” she continued, drying her tears; “only it seems so lonely now he is gone.”

Mrs. Lee remained on the couch, with her arm round her sister’s neck, silent, gazing into vacancy, the picture of perplexity and consternation. The situation was getting beyond her control.