new dancing master:

"I don't like him at all, child; let's talk about something more
interesting," and she threw herself down upon a _fauteuil_, and tossed
off her hat; just as she had tossed it aside a hundred times, in that
same pretty room. The simple action, brought a thrill of tenderness, and
sad recollection, to the heart of Sybil. She seated herself beside her
friend, and her face lost a shade of its bitterness.

"It's like a shadow of the old days, Con.," she said sadly, "and the
substance I can never have any more. But, you must let me talk, I feel
as if I must talk, and you will let me say what I will, and ask me
nothing. Con., you saw that--that creature down stairs? You saw him, but
you did not _hear_ him."

She shuddered, and paused for an instant; but Constance did not speak,
and so she continued:

"I had made up my mind never to speak of him to you, but the very thing
I had dreaded has happened; you have met, and, in the generosity of your
soul, for my sake, you have extended to him your hand; have openly
accepted his acquaintance. Oh, Con.! I could have struck him dead before
he touched your hand. _He!_ Ah, there is a limit to my forbearance; he
has forced himself into my life to blight it; he has forced himself into
my family to be an added curse. But he shall not force himself upon my
friends. Con., treat him with the disdain he deserves, else, he will
force his way into your very drawing room. Never, never, never, extend
to him the courtesies due to an equal. He is not an equal, he is not a
man at all; he is a fat, sleek, leering, ruminating animal, at his best;
he is a wolf, a vampire, a devil, at other times; ignorant, vain,
avaricious, gross. Rather than see him force himself upon you, as he has
forced himself upon us here, I will myself sever our friendship, I will
never see, never speak with you again. John Burrill shall find a limit,
which even his brute force cannot pass." She was growing more and more
excited and a bright spot burned on each cheek.

Constance was startled, but fully understanding the necessity for
perfect coolness, now that Sybil's composure had almost given way, she
never attempted to interrupt the words that were but the overflow of
long pent up feelings; but sat quietly stroking one of Sybil's slender
hands, and becoming more amazed and mystified as she listened.

"Sometimes I find myself wondering at the tenacity of my life," went on
Sybil, more hurriedly and with i