confidence in women and in
money than a wider experience was ever likely to justify.

Whatever might be Mr. Ratcliffe's schemes for dealing with these
obstacles they could hardly be such as would satisfy Sybil, who, if
inaccurate in her theories about Prairie Giants, yet understood women,
and especially her sister, much better than Mr. Ratcliffe ever could do.
Here she was safe, and it would have been better had she said no more,
for Mrs. Lee, though staggered for a moment by her sister's vehemence,
was reassured by what seemed the absurdity of her fears. Madeleine
rebelled against this hysterical violence of opposition, and became more
fixed in her decision.

She scolded her sister in good, set terms--

"Sybil, Sybil! you must not be so violent. Behave like a woman, and not
like a spoiled child!"

Mrs. Lee, like most persons who have to deal with spoiled or unspoiled
children, resorted to severity, not so much because it was the proper
way of dealing with them, as because she knew not what else to do.
She was thoroughly uncomfortable and weary. She was not satisfied with
herself or with her own motives. Doubt encompassed her on all sides, and
her worst opponent was that sister whose happiness had turned the scale
against her own judgment.

Nevertheless her tactics answered their object of checking Sybil's
vehemence. Her sobs came to an end, and she presently rose with a
quieter air.

"Madeleine," said she, "do you really want to marry Mr. Ratcliffe?"

"What else can I do, my dear Sybil? I want to do whatever is for the
best. I thought you might be pleased."

"You thought I might be pleased?" cried Sybil in astonishment. "What a
strange idea! If you had ever spoken to me about it I should have told
you that I hate him, and can't understand how you can abide him. But I
would rather marry him myself than see you marry him. I know that you
will kill yourself with unhappiness when you have done it. Oh, Maude,
please tell me that you won't!" And Sybil began gently sobbing again,
while she caressed her sister.

Mrs. Lee was infinitely distressed. To act against the wishes of her
nearest friends was hard enough, but to appear harsh and unfeeling to
the one being whose happiness she had at heart, was intolerable. Yet
no sensible woman, after saying that she meant to marry a man like Mr.
Ratcliffe, could throw him over merely because another woman chose to
behave like a spoiled child.

Sybil was more childish than M