Sybil flung herself with all her energy upon her sister; violently excited, and eager to make herself heard, without waiting for arguments, she broke out into a torrent of entreaties: "Oh, don't, don't, don't! Oh, please, please, don't, my dearest, dearest Maude! unless you want to break my heart, don't marry that man! You can't love him! You can never be happy with him! he will take you away to Peonia, and you will die there! I shall never see you again! He will make you unhappy; he will beat you, I know he will! Oh, if you care for me at all, don't marry him! Send him away! don't see him again! let us go ourselves, now, in the morning train, before he comes back.

I'm all ready; I'll pack everything for you; we'll go to Newport; to Europe--anywhere, to be out of his reach!" With this passionate appeal, Sybil threw herself on her knees by her sister's side, and, clasping her arms around Madeleine's waist, sobbed as though her heart were already broken.

Had Carrington seen her then he must have admitted that she had carried out his instructions to the letter.

She was quite honest, too, in it all.

She meant what she said, and her tears were real tears that had been pent up for weeks.
Unluckily, her logic was feeble.