I never knew
of a girl who needed a brother more than she. She is not bad at
heart--far from it, but she is fearfully rash, and she is warped
by education, or its lack, and by the vile literature she has read,
to such a degree that she cannot see things in their true moral
aspects. I'll give you a plain hint, and then you must not ask me
anything further, for both you and I must be able to say that the
history of my last interview was never given. My hint is this--I
do not believe that self-destruction ever appeared to Miss Mayhew
as an awful and revolting crime. Her actual life, hitherto, has
been a round of frivolity. Only on the stage or in the absurd woes
of her stilted heroes and heroines, has she given any attention to
the sad and serious side of life. Men and women committing suicide
to slow music is the chief stock in trade in some quarters, and
when serious trouble came to her this devil's comedy had been robbed
of its horror by the clap-trap of stage effect. That is the only
way in which I can account for it all or excuse her. But the fact
that she recoiled from Sibley so strongly and felt the disgrace
of her association so keenly, proves that she possesses a true
woman's nature.
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