"I would not marry him because he tried to find out from poor
mamma's man of business whether we were rich. And the day after he got the
information that I was rich enough to suit him, he proposed. But mamma
knew all about what had gone on and told me, and so I refused him. She
said I was wrong, and would not have told me if she had known it would
make any difference. And now you say I was right. I am sure I was; it was
only a fancy I had for him, because he was so clever and well-bred.
Besides, he is much too old."
"He is old enough to be your father, my dear," said Mrs. Wyndham; "but I
think you were a little hard on him. Almost any man would do the same. We
here in Boston, of course, always know about each other. It was a little
mean of him, no doubt, but it was not a mortal crime."
"I think it was low," said Sybil, decisively. "To think of a man as rich
as that caring for a paltry twenty or thirty thousand a year."
"I know, my dear," said Mrs. Wyndham, "it is mean; but they all do it, and
life is uncertain, and so is business I suppose, and twenty or thirty
thousand a year does make a difference to most people, I expect.
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