In answer she
wrote, "It makes me sick to think of you!"
She could not endure the idea of "talking over" the experience with
any one, and struggled to keep it out of her mind, but her resolution
to keep silence was broken by Mrs. Draper, who was informed,
presumably by Jermain himself, of the circumstances, and encountering
Sylvia in the street waited for no invitation to confidence by the
girl, but pounced upon her with laughing reproach and insidiously
friendly ridicule. Sylvia, helpless before the graceful assurance of
her friend, heard that she was a silly little unawakened schoolgirl
who was throwing away a brilliantly happy and successful life for the
queerest and funniest of ignorant notions. "What did you suppose, you
baby? You wouldn't have him marry you unless he was in love with you,
would you? Why do you suppose a man _wants_ to marry a woman? Did you
suppose that men in love carry their sweethearts around wrapped in
cotton-wool? You're a woman now, you ought to welcome life--rich,
full-blooded life--not take this chilly, suspicious attitude toward
it! Why, Sylvia, I thought you were a big, splendid, vital, fearless
modern girl--and here you are acting like a little, thin-blooded New
England old maid. How can you blame Jerry? He was engaged to you. What
do you think marriage _is_? Oh, Sylvia, just think what your life
would be in Washington with your beauty and charm!"
This dexterously aimed attack penetrated Sylvia's armor at a dozen
joints.
Pages:
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299