"And that's all. And now look here, honey! Don't you go to taking on about this here piece o' business! And don't you get mad long o' your husband on any woman's account, whatever you do! Come down on the woman! That's what you do. It is all _her_ fault, not hizzen! _He_ couldn't help himself, poor innocent creetur! Lor! honey, I don't know much about married life, bein' of a single woman myself; but I have heard my mother say as men are mons'rous weak-minded poor creeturs, and need to be guided by their wives; and if they an't ruled by their wives, they are sure to be by some other woman! And it stands to reason it is more respectable to be ruled by their wives! And so, honey, my advice to you is, to send that bad woman about her business, and take that innocent man firmly in hand." And so Miss Tabby babbled on, no longer heeded by Sybil, who soon slipped away and hid herself in one of the empty spare rooms. CHAPTER XIII. MORE THAN THE BITTERNESS OF DEATH. He to whom I gave my heart with all its wealth of love, Forsakes me for another.--MEDEA. "Oh my heart! my heart!" moaned Sybil, as she sank down upon the floor of that spare-room, the door of which she had bolted, to secure herself from intrusion. "Oh, my heart! my heart!" she wailed, pressing her hand to her side like one who had just received a mortal wound. "Oh, my heart! my heart!" she groaned, as one who complains of an insupportable agony. And for some moments she could do no more than this. Then at length the stream of utterance flowed forth, and-- "He loves me no longer! my husband loves me no longer!" she cried in more than the bitterness of death. "He loves that false siren in place of me, his true wife. He gives her all the tender words, all the warm caresses he used to lavish on me. His heart is won from me. I am desolate! I am desolate, and I shall die! I shall die! But oh, how much I must suffer before I can die, for I am so strong to suffer! Ah, how I wish I might die at once, or that suicide were no sin!" But suddenly, out of this deep abasement of grief, blazed up a fierce and fiery anger. She started from her recumbent position, and began to walk wildly up and down the floor, beating her hands together, and exclaiming distractedly: