"Dear father, don't talk so. You may live twenty years yet," answered
the daughter, with a blending of affectionate solicitude and angry
impatience in her tones and looks, for Sybil was very fond of the old
man, and also very intolerant of unpleasant subjects.
"Well, well, my dear, since you prefer it, I will live twenty years
longer to please you--if I can. But whether I live or die, my
daughter, I wish to see you well married."
"Ah, father, why can you not leave me free?"
"Because, my darling, if anything should happen to me, you would be left
utterly without protection; your hand would become the aim of every
adventurer in the county; you would become the prey of some one among
them who would squander your fortune, abuse your person, and break your
heart."
"You know very well, father, that I should break such a villain's head
first. I a victim--I the prey of a fortune-hunter, or the slave of a
brute! I look as if I was likely to be--do I not? Father, you insult
your daughter by the thought," exclaimed Sybil, with flushing cheeks and
flashing eyes.
"There, there, my dear! don't flame up!" said the old man, laying his
hand upon the fiery creature's head; "be quiet as you can, Sybil--I
cannot bear excitement now, child."
"Forgive me, dear father, and forbear, if you love me, from such talk as
this. I never could become an ill-used, suffering, snivelling wife. I
detest the picture as I utterly despise all weak and whimpering women.
I have no sympathy whatever for your abused wives--even for your
dethroned or beheaded queens. Why should a wife permit herself to be
abused, or a queen suffer herself to be dethroned or beheaded, without
first having done something to redeem herself from the contemptible role
of a victim, even if it was to change it for the awful one of
criminal--"
"--Hush, Sybil, hush! You know not what you say. The Saviour of the
world--"
"----Was a divine martyr, father," said Sybil, reverently bowing her
head--"was a divine martyr, not a victim. All who suffer and die in a
great cause are martyrs; but those who suffer and die for nothing but of
their own weakness are victims, with whom I have no sympathy. I never
could be a victim, father."
"Heaven help you, Sybil!"
"You need not fear for me, father. I can take care of myself as well as
if I were a son, instead of a daughter of the House of Berners," said
Sybil, haughtily.
"You may be able to protect yourself from all others, but can you always
protect yourself from yourself?" sighed the old man.
Sybil did not answer.
"But, to come back to the point from which you started, like the fiery
young filly that you are--Sybil, I greatly desire to see you married to
some worthy young gentleman whom you can love and I approve."