Her taste is getting to be
demoralised in Washington. Do you know, Mr. Carrington, I'm not
clever or serious, like Madeleine, and I can't read laws, and hate
politics, but I've more common sense than she has, and she makes
me cross with her. I understand now why young widows are
dangerous, and why they're bumed at their husband's funerals in
India. Not that I want to have Madeleine burned, for she's a dear,
good creature, and I love her better than anything in the world; but
she will certainly do herself some dreadful mischief one of these
days; she has the most extravagant notions about self-sacrifice and
duty; if she hadn't luckily thought of taking charge of me, she
would have done some awful thing long ago, and if I could only be
a little wicked, she would be quite happy all the rest of her life in
reforming me; but now she has got hold of that Mr. Ratcliffe, and
he is trying to make her think she can reform him, and if he does,
it's all up with us. Madeleine will just go and break her heart over
that odious, great, coarse brute, who only wants her money."
Sybil delivered this little oration with a degree of energy that went
to Carrington's heart. She did not often make such sustained
efforts, and it was clear that on this subject she had exhausted her
whole mind. Carrington was delighted, and urged her on. "I dislike
Mr. Ratcliffe as much as you do;--more perhaps. So does every
one who knows much about him. But we shall only make the
matter worse if we interfere.
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