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diff --git a/old/30333-8.txt b/old/30333-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c768dbc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30333-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10057 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Daddy's Girl, by L. T. Meade + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Daddy's Girl + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: October 25, 2009 [EBook #30333] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DADDY'S GIRL *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, D Alexander and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + DADDY'S GIRL + + BY L. T. MEADE + + Author of "A Very Naughty Girl," "Polly, A New Fashioned + Girl," "Palace Beautiful," "Sweet Girl Graduate," + "World of Girls," etc., etc. + + "Suffer the little children to come unto me." + + A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS + 52-58 DUANE STREET, NEW YORK. + + + + +[Illustration: DADDY'S GIRL. _Frontispiece._] + + + + +DADDY'S GIRL. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +Philip Ogilvie and his pretty wife were quarrelling, as their custom +was, in the drawing-room of the great house in Belgrave Square, but +the Angel in the nursery upstairs knew nothing at all about that. She +was eight years old, and was, at that critical moment when her father +and mother were having words which might embitter all their lives, and +perhaps sever them for ever, unconsciously and happily decorating +herself before the nursery looking-glass. + +The occasion was an important one, and the Angel's rosebud lips were +pursed up in her anxiety, and her dark, pretty brows were somewhat +raised, and her very blue eyes were fixed on her own charming little +reflection. + +"Shall it be buttercups, or daisies, or both?" thought the Angel to +herself. + +A box of wild flowers, which had come up from the country that day, +lay handy. There were violets and primroses, and quantities of +buttercups and daisies, amongst these treasures. + +"Mother likes me when I am pretty, father likes me anyhow," she +thought, and then she stood and contemplated herself, and pensively +took up a bunch of daisies and held them against her small, slightly +flushed cheek, and then tried the effect of the buttercups in her +golden brown hair. By-and-by, she skipped away from the looking-glass, +and ran up to a tall, somewhat austere lady, who was seated at a round +table, writing busily. + +"What do you want, Sibyl? Don't disturb me now," said this individual. + +"It is only just for a moment," replied the Angel, knitting her brows, +and standing in such a position that she excluded all light from +falling on the severe-looking lady's writing-pad. + +"Which is the prettiest, buttercups or daisies, or the two twisted up +together?" she said. + +"Oh, don't worry me, child, I want to catch this post. My brother is +very ill, and he'll be so annoyed if he doesn't hear from me. Did you +say buttercups and daisies mixed? Yes, of course, mix them, that is +the old nursery rhyme." + +The little Sibyl stamped a small foot encased in a red shoe with an +impatient movement, and turned once more to contemplate herself in +the glass. Miss Winstead, the governess, resumed her letter, and a +clock on the mantelpiece struck out seven silvery chimes. + +"They'll be going in to dinner; I must be very quick indeed," thought +the child. She began to pull out the flowers, to arrange them in +little groups, and presently, by the aid of numerous pins, to deck her +small person. + +"Mother likes me when I am pretty," she repeated softly under her +breath, "but father likes me anyhow." She thought over this somewhat +curious problem. Why should father like her anyhow? Why should mother +only kiss her and pet her when she was downright pretty? + +"Do I look pretty?" she said at last, dancing back to the governess's +side. + +Miss Winstead dropped her pen and looked up at the radiant little +figure. She had contrived to tie some of the wild flowers together, +and had encircled them round her white forehead, and mixed them in her +flowing locks, and here, there, and everywhere on her white dress were +bunches of buttercups and daisies, with a few violets thrown in. + +"Do I look pretty?" repeated Sibyl Ogilvie. + +"You are a very vain little girl," said Miss Winstead. "I won't tell +you whether you look pretty or not, you ought not to think of your +looks. God does not like people who think whether they are pretty or +not. He likes humble-minded little girls. Now don't interrupt me any +more." + +"There's the gong, I'm off," cried Sibyl. She kissed her hand to Miss +Winstead, her face all alight with happiness. + +"I know I am pretty, she always talks like that when I am," thought +the child, who had a very keen insight into character. "Mother will +kiss me to-night, I am so glad. I wonder if Jesus Christ thinks me +pretty, too." + +Sibyl Ogilvie, aged eight, had a theology of her own. It was extremely +simple, and had no perplexing elements about it. There were three +persons who were absolutely perfect. Jesus Christ Who lived in heaven, +but Who saw everything that took place on earth, and her own father +and mother. No one else was absolutely without sin, but these three +were. It was a most comfortable doctrine, and it sustained her little +heart through some perplexing passages in her small life. She used to +shut her eyes when her mother frowned, and say softly under her +breath-- + +"It's not wrong, 'cos it's mother. Mother couldn't do nothing wrong, +no more than Jesus could"; and she used to stop her ears when her +mother's voice, sharp and passionate, rang across the room. Something +was trying mother dreadfully, but mother had a right to be angry; she +was not sinful, like nurse, when she got into her tantrums. As to +father, he was never cross. He did look tired and disturbed sometimes. +It must be because he was sorry for the rest of the world. Yes, father +and mother were perfection. It was a great support to know this. It +was a very great honor to have been born their little girl. Every +morning when Sibyl knelt to pray, and every evening when she offered +up her nightly petitions, she thanked God most earnestly for having +given her as parents those two perfect people known to the world as +Philip Ogilvie and his wife. + +"It was so awfully kind of you, Jesus," Sibyl would say, "and I must +try to grow up as nearly good as I can, because of You and father and +mother. I must try not to be cross, and I must try not to be vain, and +I must try to love my lessons. I don't think I am really vain, Jesus. +It is just because my mother likes me best when I am pretty that I +want to be pretty. It's for no other reason, really and truly; but I +don't like lessons, particularly spelling lessons. I cannot pretend I +do. Can I?" + +Jesus never made any audible response to the child's query, but she +often felt a little tug at her heart which caused her to fly to her +spelling-book and learn one or two difficult words with frantic zeal. + +As she ran downstairs now, she reflected over the problem of her +mother's kisses being softest and her mother's eyes kindest when her +own eyes were bright and her little figure radiant; and she also +thought of the other problem, of her grave-eyed father always loving +her, no matter whether her frock was torn, her hair untidy, or her +little face smudged. + +Because of her cherubic face, Sibyl had been called the Angel when +quite a baby, and somehow the name stuck to her, particularly on the +lips of her father. It is true she had a sparkling face and soft +features and blue eyes; but she was, when all is said and done, a +somewhat worldly little angel, and had, both in the opinions of Miss +Winstead and nurse, as many faults as could well be packed into the +breast of one small child. Both admitted that Sibyl had a very loving +heart, but she was fearless, headstrong, at times even defiant, and +was very naughty and idle over her lessons. + +Miss Winstead was fond of taking complaints of Sibyl to Mrs. Ogilvie, +and she was fond, also, of hoping against hope that these complaints +would lead to satisfactory results; but, as a matter of fact, Mrs. +Ogilvie never troubled herself about them. She was the sort of woman +who took the lives of others with absolute unconcern; her own life +absorbed every thought and every feeling. Anything that added to her +own comfort was esteemed; anything that worried her was shut as much +as possible out of sight. She was fond of Sibyl in her careless way. +There were moments when she was proud of the pretty and attractive +child, but she had not the slightest idea of attempting to mould her +character, nor of becoming her instructress. One of Mrs. Ogilvie's +favorite theories was that mothers should not educate their children. + +"The child should go to the mother for love and petting," she would +say. "Miss Winstead may complain of the darling as much as she +pleases, but need not suppose that I shall scold her." + +It was Sibyl's father, after all, who now and then spoke to her about +her unworthy conduct. + +"You are called the Angel, and you must try to act up to your name," +he said on one of these occasions, fixing his own dark-grey eyes on +the little girl. + +"Oh, yes, father," answered the Angel, "but, you see, I wasn't born +that way, same as you was. It seems a pity, doesn't it? You're perfect +and I am not. I can't help the way I was born, can I, father?" + +"No; no one is perfect, darling," replied the father. + +"You are," answered the Angel, and she gave her head a defiant toss. +"You and my mother and my beautiful Lord Jesus up in heaven. But I'll +try to please you, father, so don't knit up your forehead." + +Sibyl as she spoke laid her soft hand on her father's brow and tried +to smooth out some wrinkles. + +"Same as if you was an old man," she said: "but you're perfect, +perfect, and I love you, I love you," and she encircled his neck with +her soft arms and pressed many kisses on his face. + +On these occasions Philip Ogilvie felt uncomfortable, for he was a man +with many passions and beset with infirmities, and at the time when +Sibyl praised him most, when she uttered her charming, confident +words, and raised her eyes full of absolute faith to his, he was +thinking with a strange acute pain at his heart of a transaction which +he might undertake and of a temptation which he knew well was soon to +be presented to him. + +"I should not like the child to know about it," was his reflection; +"but all the same, if I do it, if I fall, it will be for her sake, for +hers alone." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Sibyl skipped down to the drawing-room with her spirits brimful of +happiness. She opened the door wide and danced in. + +"Here I come," she cried, "here I come, buttercups and daisies and +violets and me." She looked from one parent to the other, held out her +flowing short skirts with each dimpled hand, and danced across the +room. + +Mrs. Ogilvie had tears in her eyes; she had just come to the +sentimental part of her quarrel. At sight of the child she rose +hastily, and walked to the window. Philip Ogilvie went down the room, +put both his hands around Sibyl's waist, and lifted her to a level +with his shoulders. + +"What a fairy-like little girl this is!" he cried. + +"You are Spring come to cheer us up." + +"I am glad," whispered Sibyl; "but let me down, please, father, I want +to kiss mother." + +Mr. Ogilvie dropped her to the ground. She ran up to her mother. + +"Father says I am Spring, look at me," she said, and she gazed into +the beautiful, somewhat sullen face of her parent. + +Mrs. Ogilvie had hoped that Sibyl would not notice her tears, but +Sibyl, gentle as she looked, had the eyes of a hawk. + +"Something is fretting my ownest mother," she whispered under her +breath, and then she took her mother's soft hand and covered it with +kisses. After kissing it, she patted it, and then she returned to her +father's side. + +Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Ogilvie knew why, but as soon as Sibyl entered +the room it seemed ridiculous for them to quarrel. Mrs. Ogilvie turned +with an effort, said something kind to her husband, he responded +courteously, then the dinner gong sounded, and the three entered the +dining-room. + +It was one of the customs of the house that Sibyl, when they dined +alone, should always sit with her parents during this hour. Mrs. +Ogilvie objected to the plan, urging that it was very bad for the +child. But Ogilvie thought otherwise, and notwithstanding all the +mother's objections the point was carried. A high chair was placed for +Sibyl next her father, and she occupied it evening after evening, +nibbling a biscuit from the dessert, and airing her views in a +complacent way on every possible subject under the sun. + +"I call Miss Winstead crosspatch now," she said on this occasion. "She +is more cranky than you think. She is, really, truly, father." + +"You must not talk against your governess, Sibyl," said her mother +from the other end of the table. + +"Oh, let her speak out to us, my dear," said the father. "What was +Miss Winstead cross about to-day, Sibyl?" + +"Spelling, as usual," said Sibyl briefly, "but more special 'cos Lord +Jesus made me pretty." + +"Hush!" said the mother again. + +Sibyl glanced at her father. There was a twinkle of amusement in his +eyes which he could scarcely keep back. + +"My dear," he said, addressing his wife, "do you think Miss Winstead +is just the person----" + +"I beg of you, Philip," interrupted the mother, "not to speak of the +child's teacher before her face. Sibyl, I forbid you to make unkind +remarks." + +"It's 'cos they're both so perfect," thought Sibyl, "but it's hard on +me not to be able to 'splain things. If I can't, what is to be done?" + +She munched her biscuit sorrowfully, and looked with steadfast eyes +across the room. She supposed she would have to endure Miss Winstead, +crosspatch as she was, and she did not enjoy the task which mother and +Lord Jesus had set her. + +The footman was in the act of helping Mr. Ogilvie to champagne, and +Sibyl paused in her thoughts to watch the frothy wine as it filled +the glass. + +"Is it nice?" she inquired. + +"Very nice, Sibyl. Would you like to taste it?" + +"No, thank you, father. Nurse says if you drink wine when you're a +little girl, you grow up to be drunk as a hog." + +"My dear Sibyl," cried the mother, "I really must speak to nurse. What +a disgraceful thing to say!" + +"Let us turn the subject," said the father. + +Sibyl turned it with a will. + +"I 'spect I ought to 'fess to you," she said. "I was cross myself +to-day. Seems to me I'm not getting a bit perfect. I stamped my foot +when Miss Winstead made me write all my spelling over again. Father, +is it necessary for a little girl to spell long words?" + +"You would not like to put wrong spelling into your letters to me, +would you?" was the answer. + +"I don't think I'd much care," said Sibyl, with a smile. "You'd know +what I meant, wouldn't you, whether I spelt the words right or not? +All the same," she added, "I'll spell right if you wish it--I mean, +I'll try." + +"That's a good girl. Now tell me what else you did naughty?" + +"When Sibyl talks about her sins, would it not be best for her to do +so in private?" said the mother again. + +"But this is private," said Mr. Ogilvie, "only her father and mother." + +Mrs. Ogilvie glanced at a footman who stood not far off, and who was +in vain endeavoring to suppress a smile. + +"I washed my doll's clothes, although nurse told me not," continued +Sibyl, "and I made a mess in the night nursery. I spilt the water and +wetted my pinny, and I _would_ open the window, although it was +raining. I ran downstairs, too, and asked Watson to give me a macaroon +biscuit. He wasn't to blame--Watson wasn't." + +The unfortunate footman whose name was now introduced hastily turned +his back, but his ears looked very red as he arranged some glasses on +the sideboard. + +"Father," whispered Sibyl, "do you know that Watson has got a +sweetheart, and----" + +"Hush! hush!" said Mr. Ogilvie, "go on with your confessions." + +"They're rather sad, aren't they, father? Now I come to think of it, +they are very, very sad. I didn't do one right thing to-day 'cept to +make myself pretty. Miss Winstead was so angry, and so was nurse, but +when I am with them I don't mind a bit being naughty. I wouldn't be a +flabby good girl for all the world." + +"Oh, Angel, what is to become of you?" said her father. + +Sibyl looked full at him, her eyes sparkled, then a curious change +came into them. He was good--perfect; it was lovely to think of it, +but she felt sure that she could never be perfect like that. All the +same, she did not want to pain him. She slipped her small hand into +his, and presently she whispered: + +"I'll do anything in all the world to please you and mother and Lord +Jesus." + +"That is right," said the father, who gave a swift thought at the +moment to the temptation which he knew was already on its way, and +which he would never yield to but for the sake of the child. + +The rest of the dinner proceeded without many more remarks, and +immediately afterwards Sibyl kissed both her parents and went +upstairs. + +"Good-night, little Spring," said her father, and there was a note of +pain in his voice. + +She gave him an earnest hug, and then she whispered-- + +"Is it 'cos I'm a wicked girl you're sad?" + +"No," he answered, "you are not wicked, my darling; you are the best, +the sweetest in all the world." + +"Oh, no, father," answered Sibyl, "that is not true. I am not the best +nor the sweetest, and I wouldn't like to be too good, 'cept for you. +Good-night, darling father." + +Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvie returned to the drawing-room. + +"You spoil that child," said the wife, "but it is on a par with +everything else you do. You have no perception of what is right. I +don't pretend to be a good mother, but I don't talk nonsense to Sibyl. +She ought not to speak about nurse and governess before servants, and +it is disgraceful of her to drag the footman and his concerns into the +conversation at dinner. She ought not, also, to boast about doing +naughty things." + +"I wish you would leave the child alone," said Ogilvie in an annoyed +voice; "she is good enough for me, little pet, and I would not have +her altered for the world. But now, Mildred, to return to our cause of +dissension before dinner, we must get this matter arranged. What do +you mean to do about your invitation to Grayleigh Manor?" + +"I have given you my views on that subject, Philip; I am going." + +"I would much rather you did not." + +"I am sorry." Mrs. Ogilvie shrugged her shoulders. "I am willing to +please you in all reasonable matters; this is unreasonable, therefore +I shall take my own way." + +"It is impossible for me to accompany you." + +"I can live without you for a few days, and I shall take the child." + +"Sibyl! No, I do not wish it." + +"I fear you must put up with it. I have written to say that Sibyl and +I will go down on Saturday." + +Ogilvie, who had been seated, now rose, and went to the window. He +looked out with a dreary expression on his face. + +"You know as well as I do the reasons why it would be best for you not +to go to Grayleigh Manor at present," he said. "You can easily write +to give an excuse. Remember, we were both asked, and the fact that I +cannot leave town is sufficient reason for you to decline." + +"I am going," said Mrs. Ogilvie. Her eyes, which were large and dark, +flashed with defiance. Ogilvie looked at her with a frown between his +brows. + +"Is that your last word?" he inquired. + +"It is, I go on Saturday. If you were not so disagreeable and +disobliging you could easily come with me, but you never do anything +to please me." + +"Nor you to please me, Mildred," he was about to say, but he +restrained himself. After a pause he said gently, "There is one thing +that makes the situation almost unbearable." + +"And what is that?" she asked. + +"The attitude of little Sibyl toward us both. She thinks us--Mildred, +she thinks us perfect. What will happen to the child when her eyes are +opened?" + +"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," was Mrs. Ogilvie's +flippant remark. "But that attitude is much encouraged by you. You +make her morbid and sensitive." + +"Morbid! Sibyl morbid! There never was a more open-hearted, frank, +healthy creature. Did you not hear her say at dinner that she would +not be a flabby good girl for anything? Now, I must tell you that +perhaps wrong as that speech was, it rejoiced my heart." + +"And it sickened me," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "You do everything in your +power to make her eccentric. Now, I don't wish to have an eccentric +daughter. I wish to have a well brought up girl, who will be good +while she is young, speak properly, not make herself in any way +remarkable, learn her lessons, and make a successful _debut_ in +Society, all in due course." + +"With a view, doubtless, to a brilliant marriage," added the husband, +bitterly. + +"I am going to knock all of this nonsense out of Sibyl," was his +wife's answer, "and I mean to begin it when we get to Grayleigh +Manor." + +Mrs. Ogilvie had hardly finished her words before an angry bang at the +drawing-room door told her that her husband had left her. + +Ogilvie went to his smoking-room at the other end of the hall. There +he paced restlessly up and down. His temples were beating, and the +pain at his heart was growing worse. + +The postman's ring was heard, and the footman, Watson, entered with a +letter. + +Ogilvie had expected this letter, and he knew what its purport would +be. He only glanced at the writing, threw it on the table near, and +resumed his walk up and down. + +"It is the child," he thought. "She perplexes me and she tempts me. +Never was there a sweeter decoy duck to the verge of ruin. Poor little +innocent white Angel! Her attitude toward her mother and me is +sometimes almost maddening. Mildred wants to take that little innocent +life and mould it after her own fashion. But, after all, am I any +better than Mildred? If I yield to this"--he touched the letter with +his hand--"I shall sweep in gold, and all money anxieties will be laid +to rest. Little Sib will be rich by-and-by. This is a big thing, and +if I do it I shall see my way to clearing off those debts which +Mildred's extravagance, and doubtless my own inclination, have caused +me to accumulate. Whatever happens Sibyl will be all right; and yet--I +don't care for wealth, but Mildred does, and the child will be better +for money. Money presents a shield between a sensitive heart like +Sibyl's and the world. Yes, I am tempted. Sibyl tempts me." + +He thrust the letter into a drawer, locked the drawer, put the key in +his pocket, and ran up to Sibyl's nursery. She was asleep, and there +was no one else in the room. The blinds were down at the windows, and +the nursery, pretty, dainty, sweet, and fresh, was in shadow. + +Ogilvie stepped softly across the room, and drew up the blind. The +moonlight now came in, and shed a silver bar of light across the +child's bed. Sibyl lay with her golden hair half covering the pillow, +her hands and arms flung outside the bedclothes. + +"Good-night, little darling," said her father. He bent over her, and +pressed a light kiss upon her cheek. Feather touch as it was, it +aroused the child. She opened her big blue eyes. + +"Oh, father, is that you?" she cried in a voice of rapture. + +"Yes, it is I. I came to wish you good-night." + +"You are good, you never forget," said Sibyl. She clasped her arms +round his neck. "I went to bed without saying my prayers. May I say +them now to you?" + +"Not for worlds," it was the man's first impulse to remark, but he +checked himself. "Of course, dear," he said. + +Sibyl raised herself to a kneeling posture. She clasped her soft arms +round her father's neck. + +"Pray God forgive me for being naughty to-day," she began, "and pray +God make me better to-morrow, 'cos it will please my darlingest father +and mother; and I thank you, God, so much for making them good, very +good, and without sin. Pray God forgive Sibyl, and try to make her +better. + +"Now, father, you're pleased," continued the little girl. "It was very +hard to say that, because really, truly, I don't want to be better, +but I'll try hard if it pleases you." + +"Yes, Sibyl, try hard," said her father, "try very hard to be good. +Don't let goodness go. Grasp it tight with both hands and never let it +go. So may God indeed help you." Ogilvie said these words in a +strained voice. Then he covered her up in bed, drew down the blinds, +and left her. + +"He's fretted; it's just 'cos the world is so wicked, and 'cos I'm not +as good as I ought to be," thought the child. A moment later she had +fallen asleep with a smile on her face. + +Ogilvie went to his club. There he wrote a short letter. It ran as +follows:-- + + "MY DEAR GRAYLEIGH,-- + + "Your offer was not unexpected. I thought it over even + before it came, and I have considered it since. Although I + am fully aware of the money advantages it holds out to me I + have decided to decline it. Frankly, I cannot undertake to + assay the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine, although your offer has + been a great temptation. No doubt you will find another man + more suited for your purpose. + + "Yours sincerely, + "PHILIP OGILVIE." + +It was between one and two that same night that Ogilvie let himself in +with his latchkey. + +His wife had been to one or two receptions, and had not yet gone to +bed. She was standing in the hall, looking radiant as he had seldom +seen her. She was dressed beautifully, and her hair and neck were +covered with diamonds. + +"What," he cried, "up still, Mildred? You ought to be in bed." + +He did not give her any glance of admiration, beautiful as she +appeared. He shivered slightly with a movement which she did not +notice as she stood before him, the lamplight falling all over her +lovely dress and figure. + +"I am so glad you have come back, Phil," she said. "I shall sleep +better now that I have seen you. I hear that Lord Grayleigh has +offered you the post of engineer on the board of the Lombard Deeps +Mine Company." + +Ogilvie did not answer. After a moment's pause he said in a sullen +tone-- + +"Had you not better go to bed? It is much too late for you to be up." + +"What does that matter? I am far too excited to sleep, and it is wrong +of you to keep things of moment from your wife. This offer means a +large addition to our income. Why, Phil, Phil, we can buy a country +place now; we can do, oh! so many things. We can pay those terrible +debts that worry you. What is the matter? Aren't you pleased? Why do +you frown at me? And you are pale, are you ill?" + +"Come into my smoking-room," he said, gravely. He took her hand and, +drawing her in, switched on the electric light. Then he turned his +wife round and looked full at her. + +"This will make a great difference in our position," she said. Her +eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were flushed, her pearly teeth showed +between her parted lips. + +"What do you mean by our position?" he said. + +"You know perfectly well that we have not money enough to keep up this +house; it is a struggle from first to last." + +"And yet I earn close on six thousand a year, Mildred. Have you never +considered that you are the person who makes it a struggle?" + +"It is impossible; impossible to manage," she said, petulantly. + +"It is, when you buy all these worthless baubles"--he touched her +diamonds, and then he started away from her. "Why you should saddle +yourself and me with debts almost impossible to meet for the sake of +these is beyond my comprehension; but if you really do want a fresh +toy in the way of an ornament to-morrow you have but to order it--that +is, in moderation." + +"Ah! I knew you had accepted," she said, making a quick dancing +movement with her small feet. "Now I am happy; we can have a place if +possible on the river. I have always longed to live close to the +Thames. It is most unfashionable not to have a country seat, and the +child will be well off by-and-by. I was told to-night by a City man +who is to be one of the directors of the new company, that if you are +clever you can make a cool forty thousand pounds out of this business. +He says your name is essential to float the thing with the public." + +"You know, perhaps, what all this means?" said Ogilvie, after a pause. + +"Why do you speak in that tone, quite with the Sibyl air?" + +"Don't dare to mention the child's name at a moment like this. I just +wish to tell you, Mildred, in a few words, what it would mean to the +world at large if I assayed the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine." + +"Oh, your business terms do so puzzle me," she answered. "I declare I +am getting sleepy." Mrs. Ogilvie yawned slightly. + +"It would be better if you went to bed, but as you are here I shall +put your mind at rest. If I accepted Grayleigh's offer----" + +"If! But you have done so, of course you have." + +"If I do, my name as engineer to the company will cause many people to +buy shares. Now, Mildred, I am not sure of the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine. I know more about this business than I can explain to you, and +you have a tongue, and women cannot keep secrets." + +"As usual, you taunt me," she said, "but what does that matter? I +could bear even an insult from you to-night, I am so excited and so +pleased. I believe in the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine. I intend to put +all the money I can lay hold of into it. Of course you will assay the +Lombard Deeps? I never could make out what assaying meant, but it +seems to be a way of raking in gold, and I was told to-night by Mr. +Halkett that you are the most trusted assayer in London. Has the +letter come yet? Has Lord Grayleigh yet offered you the post?" + +"The letter has come." + +"You would make thousands a year out of it. Phil, oh, Phil, how happy +I am! You have replied, have you not?" + +"I have." + +"Then why do you keep me in suspense? It is settled. What are you so +glum about?" + +"I have declined the offer. I cannot assay the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine." + +"Philip!" His wife's voice was at first incredulous, then it rose into +a scream. + +"You cannot be speaking the truth," she said. + +"My answer is posted. I am not too scrupulous about small things, but +I draw the line at a matter of that sort. Go to bed." + +She did not speak for a moment, her face turned pale, then she went +close up to him. + +"I hate you," she said; "go your own way in the future," and she left +him standing silent. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Sibyl and her mother went to Grayleigh Manor on the following +Saturday. Sibyl was wild with excitement. Nurse was going, of course, +to look after her, but Miss Winstead was to remain at home. Sibyl felt +that she could manage nurse, but there were moments when Miss Winstead +was a little obstinate. She would have a delightful time now in the +country with her perfect mother. Of course, there was the pain of +parting with father, who was just as perfect, if not a little more so. +In her heart of hearts Sibyl felt that she understood her father, and +that there were times when she did not quite understand her mother; +but, never mind, her mother was the perfection of all feminine beauty +and loveliness, and grace and goodness, and her father was the +perfection of all masculine goodness and nobility of character. Sibyl +in her heart of hearts wished that she had been born a boy. + +"I am much more like a boy than a girl," she thought, "and that is why +I understand father so well. But it will be lovely going to the +country with mother, my ownest mother. I expect I'll have great fun; +and, as mother doesn't care so very much whether I am perfect or not, +perhaps I can be a little naughty on my own account. That will be +lovely. I can't be really naughty with father, it is impossible; +father is so very tall up, and has such grand thoughts about things; +but I can with mother." + +So Sibyl watched the packing of her dainty frocks and gay sashes and +pretty ribbons, and then ran down to the smoking-room to kiss and hug +her father. + +Ogilvie was very grave and silent, and did not say a word, nor draw +her out in any way, and her mother was out most of the time either +paying calls or shopping, and at last the day dawned when they were to +go away. Ogilvie had kissed Sibyl with great passion the night before. + +"Don't forget me while you are away, little woman," he said, "and look +after mother, won't you?" + +"She won't need me to look after her, she's quite, quite perfect," +said Sibyl; "but I'm going to watch her, and try to copy her." + +"Child, don't do that," said the man. + +"Not copy my ownest mother? What do you mean, father?" + +"Well, well, darling, God will look after you, I do believe. You are +not far from Him, are you, Sib? You know we call you the Angel. Angels +are supposed to have their home in heaven." + +"Well, my home is right down here on earth," said Sibyl in a very +contented tone. "I'll have a real jolly time away, I 'spect." + +"I hope there will be some nice little boys and girls there with whom +you can play; and go to bed early, Sib, just for father's sake, and +don't forget to pray for me." + +"I will, I will," said the child; "I always thank God for you because +he made you so beautiful and good." + +"Well, I am busy now; go to bed, little woman." + +That was the last Sibyl saw of her father before she went away, for he +did not go to see his wife and daughter off, and Mrs. Ogilvie looked +decidedly cross as they stepped into the train. But they soon found +themselves at Grayleigh Manor. + +Sibyl and her nurse were hurried off to the nursery regions, very much +to the little girl's secret indignation, and Mrs. Ogilvie seemed to be +swept into a crowd of people who all surrounded her and talked eagerly +and laughed noisily. Sibyl gave them a keen glance out of those very +blue eyes, and in her heart of hearts thought they were a poor lot. + +She and nurse had two nice rooms set apart for their own special use, +a sitting-room and a sleeping-room, and nurse proceeded to unpack the +little girl's things, and then to dress her in one of her prettiest +frocks. + +"You are to go to tea in the schoolroom," she said. "There are two or +three other children there, and I hope you will be very good, Miss +Sibyl, and not spoil this beautiful frock." + +It was a white cashmere frock, very much embroidered and surrounded by +little frills and soft laces, and, while absolutely simple and quite +suited to the little girl, was really a wonder of expense and art. + +"It's a beautiful dress," she said; "you are wearing money now." + +"Money," said Sibyl, "what do you mean?" + +"This frock is money; you look very nice in it. Be sure, now, you +don't spot it. It would be wicked, just as if you were throwing +sovereigns into the fire." + +"I don't understand," said Sibyl; "I wish it wasn't a grand frock. Did +you bring any of my common, common frocks, nursie?" + +"I should think not, indeed. Your fine lady mother would be angry if +she saw you looking a show." + +"If you speak again in that tone of my mother I'll slap you," said +Sibyl. + +"Highty-tighty!" said the nurse; "your spirit is almost past bearing. +You need to be broke in." + +"And so do you," answered Sibyl. "If mother is good you are not, and +I'm not, so we both must be broke in; but I've got a bit of a temper. +I know that. Nursie, when you were a little girl did you have a bit of +a temper of your own?" + +"That I did. I was a handful, my mother used to say." + +"Then we _has_ something in common," said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling. +"I'm a handful, too. I'm off to the schoolroom." + +"There never was such a child," thought the woman as Sibyl dashed +away, banging the door after her; "she's not shy, and she's as sweet +as sweet can be, and yet she's a handful of spirit, of uppishness and +contrariness. Well, God bless her, whatever she is. How did that +heartless mother come by her? I can understand her being the master's +child, but her mother's! Dear me, I'm often sorry when I think how +mistook the poor little thing is in that woman she thinks so perfect." + +Sibyl, quite happy, her heart beating high with excitement, poked her +radiant little face round the schoolroom door. There were three +children already in the room--Mabel, Gus, and Freda St. Claire. They +were Lord Grayleigh's children, and were handsome, and well cared for, +and now looked with curiosity at Sibyl. + +"Oh, you're the little girl," said Mabel, who was twelve years of +age. She raised her voice in a languid tone. + +"Yes, I _are_ the little girl," said Sibyl. She came forward with +bold, confident steps, and looked at the tea table. + +"Where is my place?" she said. "Is it laid for me? I am the visitor." + +Gus, aged ten, who had been somewhat inclined to sulk when Sibyl +appeared, now smiled, and pulled out a chair. + +"Sit down," he said; "you had better sit there, near Mabel; she's +pouring out tea. She's the boss, you know." + +"What's a boss?" said Sibyl. + +"You must be a silly not to know what a boss is." + +"I aren't no more silly than you are," said Sibyl. "May I have some +bread and butter and jam? I'll ask you some things about town, and +perhaps you can't answer me. What's a--what's a--oh, I'll think of +something real slangy presently; but please don't talk to me too much +while I'm eating, or I'll spill jam on my money frock." + +"You are a very queer little girl," said Mabel; but she looked at her +now with favor. A child who could talk like Sibyl was likely to be an +acquisition. + +"What a silly you are," said Gus. "What did you put on that thing +for? We don't want frilled and laced-up frocks, we want frocks that +girls can wear to climb trees in, and----" + +"Climb trees! Oh," cried Sibyl, "are you that sort? Then I'm your +girl. Oh, I am glad! My ownest father would be pleased. He likes me to +be brave. I'm a hoyden--do you know what a hoyden is? If you want to +have a few big larks while I am here, see to 'em quick, for I'm your +girl." + +Gus burst into a roar of laughter, and Mabel smiled. + +"You are very queer," she said. "I don't know whether our governess +will like our being with you. You seem to use strange words. We never +get into scrapes--we are quite ladylike and good, but we don't wear +grand frocks either. Can't you take that thing off?" + +"I wish I could. I hate it myself." + +"Well, ask your servant to change it." + +"But my nurse hasn't brought a single shabby frock with me." + +"Are all your frocks as grand as that?" + +"Some of 'em grander." + +"We might lend her one of our own brown holland frocks," said Freda. + +"Oh, do!" said Sibyl; "that will be lovely." + +"We are going to do some climbing this afternoon, so you may as well +put it on," continued Freda. + +Sibyl clapped her hands with delight. "It's a great comfort coming +down to this place," she said finally, "'cos I can give way a little; +but with my father and mother I have to keep myself in." + +"Why?" + +"It's mostly on account of my most perfect of fathers." + +"But isn't Philip Ogilvie your father?" said Gus. + +"Mr. Ogilvie," corrected Sibyl, in a very proud tone. + +"Oh, fudge! I heard father call him Philip Ogilvie. He's not perfect." + +Sibyl's face turned white; she looked full at Gus. Gus, not observing +the expression in her eyes, continued, in a glib and easy tone: + +"Father didn't know I was there; he was talking to another man. I +think the man's name was Halkett. I'm always great at remembering +names, and I heard him say 'Philip Ogilvie will do what we want. When +it comes to the point he's not too scrupulous.' Yes, scrupulous was +the word, and I ran away and looked it out in the dictionary, and it +means--oh, you needn't stare at me as if your eyes were starting out +of your head--it means a person who hesitates from fear of acting +wrongly. Now, as your father isn't scrupulous, that means that he +doesn't hesitate to act wrong." + +Sibyl with one swift, unerring bang struck Gus a sharp blow across the +cheek. + +"What have you done that for, you little beggar?" he said, his eyes +flashing fire. + +"To teach you not to tell lies," answered Sibyl. She turned, went up +the room, and stood by the window. Her heart was bursting, and tears +were scorching her eyeballs. "But I won't shed them," thought the +child, "not for worlds." + +Sibyl's action was so unexpected that there was a silence in the room +for a few moments, but presently Freda stole softly to Sibyl's side +and touched her on her arm. + +"Gus is sorry he said anything to hurt you," she said; "we didn't +understand that you would feel it as you do, but we are all sorry, and +we like you all the better for it. Won't you shake hands with Gus and +be friends?" + +"And I'll never say a word against your father again," said Gus. + +"You had better not," answered Sibyl. "No, I won't shake hands; I +won't make friends with you till I know something more about you. But +I'd like to climb trees, and to get into a holland frock." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +It was great fun getting into the holland frock, more particularly +when it was discovered to be too short, and also very dirty. It had a +great ink-stain in front, and the sleeves were tight and showed a good +bit of Sibyl's white arms. She looked at herself in the glass and +danced about in her excitement. + +"You can have this old sailor hat to match the frock," said Freda in +conclusion. "Now no one will say you are too fine. Come out now, Gus +and the others are waiting." + +Yes, the sun shone once more for Sibyl, and she forgot for a time +Gus's cruel words about her father. He was most attentive to her now, +and initiated her into the mystery of climbing. Screams of laughter +followed her valiant efforts to ascend the leafy heights of certain +beech trees which grew not far from the house. This laughter attracted +the attention of a lady and gentleman who were pacing the leafy alley +not far away. + +"What a noise those children make," said Lord Grayleigh to his +companion. + +"How many children have you, Lord Grayleigh?" asked Mrs. Ogilvie. She +looked full at him as she spoke. + +"I have three," he replied; "they are great scamps, and never for a +single moment fit to be seen. Since their mother died"--he sighed +as he uttered these words, he was a widower of over two years' +standing--"I have kept them more or less with myself. There is no harm +in them, although they are pickles. Come, I will introduce you to +them. That reminds me, I have not yet seen your own little daughter." + +Mrs. Ogilvie was very proud of Sibyl, but only when she looked her +best. The mother now contemplated, with a feeling of satisfaction, the +nice dresses which she had secured for the child before she came into +the country. No one could look more lovely than this little daughter +of hers, when dressed suitably, so abundant was her golden brown hair, +and so blue were her eyes, so straight the little features, so soft +the curves of the rosy lips. It is true those blue eyes had an +expression in them which never in this world could Mrs. Ogilvie +understand, nevertheless, the child's beauty was apparent to the most +superficial observer; and Mrs. Ogilvie turned and accompanied Lord +Grayleigh in the direction of the merry sounds willingly enough. + +"I see four little figures dancing about among those trees," said +Lord Grayleigh. "We will see them all together." + +They turned down a side walk, and came face to face with Sibyl +herself. Now, at that instant the little girl certainly did not look +at her best. The holland frock, short and shabby, had a great rent +above the knee, her soft cheek was scratched and bleeding slightly, +and there was a smudge across her forehead. + +Sibyl, quite unconscious of these defects, flew to her mother's side. + +"Oh, Mummy," she cried, "I'm so happy. Gus has been teaching me to +climb. Do you see that beech tree? I climbed as far as the second +branch, and Gus said I did it splendid. It's lovely to sit up there." + +Sibyl did not even notice Lord Grayleigh, who stood and watched this +little scene with an amused face. Mrs. Ogilvie was by no means +pleased. + +"What do you mean, Sibyl," she said, "by wearing that disgraceful +frock? Why did nurse put it into your trunk? And you know I do not +wish you to climb trees. You are an extremely naughty girl. No, Lord +Grayleigh, I will not introduce my little daughter to you now. When +you are properly dressed, Sibyl, and know how to behave yourself, you +shall have the honor of shaking hands with Lord Grayleigh. Go into +the house, now, I am ashamed of you." + +Sibyl turned first red and then white. + +"Is that Lord Grayleigh?" she whispered. + +"Yes, my dear, but I shall not answer any of your other questions at +present. I am extremely displeased with you." + +"I am sorry you are angry, mother; but may I--may I say one thing, +just one, afore I go?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie was about to hustle the child off, when Lord Grayleigh +interfered. "Do let her speak," he said; "she looks a most charming +little maid. For my part I like children best in _deshabille_. What is +it, little woman?" + +"It's that I don't want to shake hands with you--never, _never_!" +answered Sibyl, and she turned her back on the astonished nobleman, +and marched off in the direction of the house. + +Mrs. Ogilvie turned to apologize. + +"I am terribly ashamed of Sibyl, she is the most extraordinary child," +she said. "What can have possessed her to put on that frock, and why +did she speak to you in that strange, rude way?" Here Mrs. Ogilvie +uttered a sigh. "I fear it is her father's doing," she continued, "he +makes her most eccentric. I do hope you will overlook her naughty +words. The moment I go into the house I shall speak to her, and also +to nurse for allowing her to wear that disgraceful frock." + +"I don't think your nurse is to blame," said Lord Grayleigh. "I have a +keen eye for dress, and have a memory of that special frock. It +happens to possess a green stain in the back which I am not likely to +forget. I think my Freda wore it a good deal last summer, and I +remember the occasion when the green stain was indelibly fixed upon +it. You must know, Mrs. Ogilvie, that my three children are imps, and +it was the impiest of the imps' frocks your little girl happened to be +wearing. But what a handsome little creature she is! A splendid face. +How I have come to fall under her displeasure, however, is a mystery +to me." + +"Oh, you can never account for Sibyl's whims," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "it +is all her father's fault. It is a great trial to me, I assure you." + +"I should be very proud of that child if I were you," answered Lord +Grayleigh. "She has a particularly frank, fine face." + +"Oh, she is handsome enough," answered Mrs. Ogilvie. "But what she +will grow up to, heaven only knows. She has the strangest ideas on all +sorts of subjects. She absolutely believes that her father and I are +perfect--could you credit it? At the same time she is a very naughty +child herself. I will go into the house, now, and give her a talking +to." + +"Don't scold her, poor little thing," said Lord Grayleigh. He was a +kind-hearted man in the main. "For my part," he continued, "I like +naughty children; I must force her confidence presently. She has quite +roused my curiosity. But now, Mrs. Ogilvie, to turn to other matters, +what can we do to persuade your husband to alter his mind? You know, +of course, that I have asked him to assay the Lombard Deeps Mine?" + +"I do know it," answered Mrs. Ogilvie, the color flushing into her +face. "Philip is too extraordinary at times. For my part, I really do +not know how to thank you; please believe that I am altogether on your +side. If only we could persuade that eccentric husband of mine to +change his mind." + +"He is a strange fellow," answered Lord Grayleigh slowly; "but, do you +know, I think all the more of him for a letter I received a few days +ago. At the same time, it will be prejudicial to our interests if he +should not act as engineer in this new undertaking. He is the one man +the public absolutely trusts, and of course----" + +"Why do you think more of him for refusing an advantageous offer?" + +"I don't know that I can explain. Money is not everything--at least, +to some people. Shall we go into the house? I need not say that I am +glad you are on our side, and doubtless your husband's scruples"--Lord +Grayleigh laid the slightest emphasis on the word, and made it, even +to the obtuse ears of his hearer, sound offensive--"even your +husband's scruples of conscience may be overcome by judicious +management. A wife can do much on occasions of this sort, and also a +friend. He and I are more than acquaintances--we are friends. I have a +hearty liking for Ogilvie. It is a disappointment not to have him +here, but I hope to have the pleasure of lunching with him on Monday. +Trust me to do what I can to further your interests and his own on +that occasion. Now shall we go into the house? You will like to rest +before dinner." + +Mrs. Ogilvie often liked to affect weariness, it suited her peculiar +style of beauty to look languid. She went slowly to her room. Her +maid, Hortense, helped her to take off her travelling dress, and to +put on a teagown before she lay down on the sofa. She then told the +girl to leave her. + +When alone Mrs. Ogilvie thought rapidly and deeply. What was the +matter with Philip? What did Lord Grayleigh mean by talking of +scruples? But she was not going to worry her head on that subject. +Philip must not be quixotic, he must accept the good things the gods +sent him. Additional wealth would add so immensely to their happiness. + +"Money _is_ everything," she thought, "whatever Lord Grayleigh may +say. Those who refuse it are fools, and worse. Lord Grayleigh and I +must bring Philip to his senses." + +She moved restlessly on her sofa, and looked across the comfortable +room. + +With a little more wealth she could hold her own with her friends and +acquaintances, and present a good figure in that world of society +which was her one idea of heaven. Above all things, debts, which came +between her and perfect bliss, could be cleared off. Her creditors +would not wait for payment much longer, but if Philip assayed the new +mine, he would be handsomely paid for his pains, and all her own cares +would take to themselves wings and fly away. Why did he hesitate? How +tiresome he was! Surely his life had not been so immaculate up to the +present that he should hesitate thus when the golden opportunity to +secure a vast fortune arrived. + +Ogilvie came of one of the best old families across the border, and +had a modest competence of his own handed down to him from a long line +of honorable ancestors. He had also inherited a certain code which he +could not easily forget. He called it a code of honor, and Mrs. +Ogilvie, alas! did not understand it. She reflected over the +situation now, and grew restless. If Philip was really such a goose as +to refuse his present chance, she would never forgive him. She would +bring up to him continually the golden opportunity he had let slip, +and weary his very soul. She was the sort of soft, pretty woman who +could nag a man to the verge of distraction. She knew that inestimable +art to perfection. She felt, as she lay on the sofa and toyed with the +ribbons of her pretty and expensive teagown, that she had her weapons +ready to hand. Then, with an irritated flash, she thought of the +child. Of course the child was nice, handsome, and her own; Sibyl was +very lucky to have at least one parent who would not spoil her. But +was she not being spoiled? Were there not some things intolerable +about her? + +"May I come in, Mumsy, or are you too tired?" There was something in +the quality of the voice at the door which caused Mrs. Ogilvie's +callous heart to beat quicker for a moment, then she said in an +irritated tone-- + +"Oh, come in, of course; I want to speak to you." + +Sibyl entered. Nurse had changed her holland frock, and dressed the +little girl in pale pink silk. The dress was very unsuitable, but it +became the radiant little face and bright, large eyes, and pathetic, +sweet mouth, to perfection. + +Sibyl ran up to her mother, and, dropping on one knee by her side, +looked up into her face. + +"Now you'll kiss me," she said; "now you're pleased with your own +Sibyl. I am pretty, I'm beautiful, and you, darling mother, will kiss +me." + +"Get up, Sib, and don't be absurd," said Mrs. Ogilvie; but as she +spoke a warm light came into her eyes, for the child was fascinating, +and just in the mood to appeal most to her mother. + +"Really," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "you do look nice in that dress, it fits +you very well. Turn round, and let me see how it is made at the back. +Ah! I told Mademoiselle Leroe to make it in that style; that little +watteau back is so very becoming to small girls. Turn round now +slowly, and let me get the side view. Yes, it is a pretty dress; be +sure you don't mess it. You are to come down with the other children +to dessert. You had better go now, I am tired." + +"But Mummy--Mumsy!" + +"Don't call me Mummy or Mumsy, say mother. I don't like +abbreviations." + +"What's that?" asked Sibyl, knitting her brows. + +"Mummy or Mumsy are abbreviations of a very sacred name." + +"Sacred name!" said Sibyl, in a thoughtful tone. "Oh yes, I won't call +you anything but mother. Mother is most lovely." + +"Well, I hope you will be a good child, and not annoy me as you have +been doing." + +"Oh, mother darling, I didn't mean to vex you, but it was such a +temptation, you know. You were never, never tempted, were you, mother? +You are made so perfect that you cannot understand what temptation +means. I did so long to climb the trees, and I knew you would not like +me spoil my pretty frock, and Freda lent me the brown holland. When I +saw you, Mums--I mean, mother--I forgot about everything else but just +that I had climbed a tree, and that I had been brave, although for a +minute I felt a scrap giddy, and I wanted to tell you about what I had +done, my ownest, most darling mother." + +Mrs. Ogilvie sprang suddenly to her feet. + +"Come here," she said. There was a sharpness in her tone which +arrested the words on Sibyl's lips. "Look at me, take my hand, look +steadily into my face. I have just five minutes to spare, and I wish +to say something very grave and important, and you must listen +attentively." + +"Oh, yes, mother, I am listening; what is it?" + +"Look at me. Are you attending?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. Mother, Freda says she will give me a Persian +kitten; the Persian cat has two, such beauties, snow-white. May I have +one, mother?" + +"Attend to me, and stop talking. You think a great deal of me, your +mother, and you call me perfect. Now show that you put me in high +esteem." + +"That sounds very nice," thought Sibyl to herself. "Mother is just in +her most beautiful humor. Of course I'll listen." + +"I wish," continued the mother, and she turned slightly away from the +child as she spoke, "I wish you to stop all that nonsense about your +father and me. I wish you to understand that we are not perfect, +either of us; we are just everyday, ordinary sort of people. As we +happen to be your father and mother, you must obey us and do what we +wish; but you make yourself, and us also, ridiculous when you talk as +you do. I am perfectly sick of your poses, Sibyl." + +"Poses!" cried Sibyl; "what's poses?" + +"Oh, you are too tiresome; ask nurse to explain, or Miss Winstead, +when you go home. Miss Winstead, if she is wise, will tell you that +you must just turn round and go the other way. You must obey me, of +course, and understand that I know the right way to train you; but you +are not to talk of me as though I were an angel. I am nothing of the +kind. I am an ordinary woman, with ordinary feelings and ordinary +faults, and I wish you to be an ordinary little girl. I am very angry +with you for your great rudeness to Lord Grayleigh. What did it mean?" + +"Oh, mother! it meant----" Sibyl swallowed something in her throat. +Her mother's speech was unintelligible; it hurt her, she did not +exactly know why, but this last remark was an opening. + +"Mother, I am glad you spoke of it. I could not, really and truly, +help it." + +"Don't talk nonsense. Now go away. Hortense is coming to dress me for +dinner. Go." + +"But, mother! one minute first, please--please." + +"Go, Sibyl, obey me." + +"It was 'cos Lord Grayleigh spoke against my----" + +"Go, Sibyl, I won't listen to another word. I shall punish you +severely if you do not obey me this instant." + +"I am going," said the child, "but I cannot be----" + +"Go. You are coming down to dessert to-night, and you are to speak +properly to Lord Grayleigh. Those are my orders. Now go." + +Hortense came in at that moment. She entered with that slight whirl +which she generally affected, and which she considered truly Parisian. +Somehow, in some fashion, Sibyl felt herself swept out of the room. +She stood for a moment in the passage. There was a long glass at the +further end, and it reflected a pink-robed little figure. The cheeks +had lost their usual tender bloom, and the eyes had a bewildered +expression. Sibyl rubbed her hands across them. + +"I don't understand," she said to herself. "Perhaps I wasn't quite +pretty enough, perhaps that was the reason, but I don't know. I think +I'll go to my new nursery and sit down and think of father. Oh, I wish +mother hadn't--of course it's all right, and I am a silly girl, and I +get worser, not better, every day, and mother knows what is best for +me; but she might have let me 'splain things. I wish I hadn't a pain +here." Sibyl touched her breast with a pathetic gesture. + +"It's 'cos of father I feel so bad, it's 'cos they told lies of +father." She turned very slowly with the most mournful droop of her +head in the direction of the apartment set aside for nurse and +herself. She had thought much of this visit, and now this very first +afternoon a blow had come. Her mother had told her to do a hard thing. +She, Sibyl, was to be polite to Lord Grayleigh; she was to be polite +to that dreadful, smiling man, with the fair hair and the keen eyes, +who had spoken against her father. It was unfair, it was dreadful, to +expect this of her. + +"And mother would not even let me 'splain," thought the child. + +"Hullo!" cried a gay voice; "hullo! and what's the matter with little +Miss Beauty?" And Sibyl raised her eyes, with a start, to encounter +the keen, frank, admiring gaze of Gus. + +"Oh, I say!" he exclaimed, "aren't we fine! I say! you'll knock Freda +and Mabel into next week, if you go on at this rate. But, come to the +schoolroom; we want a game, and you can join." + +"I can't, Gus," replied Sibyl. + +"Why, what's the matter?" + +"I don't feel like playing games." + +"You are quite white about the gills. I say! has anybody hurt you?" + +"No, not exactly, Gus; but I want to be alone. I'll come by-and-by." + +"Somebody wasn't square with her," thought Gus, as Sibyl turned away. +"Queer little girl! But I like her all the same." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Sibyl's conduct was exemplary at dessert. She was quiet, she was +modest, she was extremely polite. When spoken to she answered in the +most correct manner. When guests smiled at her, she gave them a set +smile in return. She accepted just that portion of the dessert which +her mother most wished her to eat, eschewing unwholesome sweets, and +partaking mostly of grapes. Especially was she polite to Lord +Grayleigh, who called her to his side, and even put his arm round her +waist. He wondered afterwards why she shivered when he did this. But +she stood upright as a dart, and looked him full in the face with +those extraordinary eyes of hers. + +At last the children's hour, as it was called, came to an end, and the +four went round kissing and shaking hands with the different guests. +Mrs. Ogilvie put her hand for an instant on Sibyl's shoulder. + +"I am pleased with you," she said; "you behaved very nicely. Go to bed +now." + +"Will you come and see me, Mumsy--mother, I mean--before you go to +bed?" + +"Oh no, child, nonsense! you must be asleep hours before then. No, +this is good-night. Now go quietly." + +Sibyl did go quietly. Mrs. Ogilvie turned to her neighbor. + +"That is such an absurd custom," she said; "I must break her of it." + +"Break your little girl of what?" he asked. "She is a beautiful +child," he added. "I congratulate you on having such a charming +daughter." + +"I have no doubt she will make a very pretty woman," replied Mrs. +Ogilvie, "and I trust she will have a successful career; but what I +was alluding to now was her insane wish that I should go and say +good-night to her. Her father spoils that child dreadfully. He insists +on her staying up to our late dinner, which in itself is quite against +all my principles, and then will go up to her room every evening when +he happens to be at home. She lies awake for him at night, and they +talk sentiment to each other. Very bad, is it not; quite out of date." + +"I don't know," answered Mr. Rochester; "if it is an old custom it +seems to me it has good in it." As he spoke he thought again of the +eager little face, the pathetic soft eyes, the pleading in the voice. +Until within this last half-hour he had not known of Sibyl's +existence; but from this instant she was to come into his heart and +bear fruit. + +Meanwhile the child went straight to her room. + +"Won't you come to the schoolroom now?" asked Gus in a tone of +remonstrance. + +"No; mother said I was to go to bed," answered Sibyl. + +"How proper and good you have turned," cried Mabel. + +"Good-night," said Sibyl. She could be quite dignified when she +pleased. She allowed the girls to kiss her, and she shook hands with +Gus, and felt grown-up, and, on the whole, notwithstanding the +unsatisfied feeling at her heart, rather pleased with herself. She +entered the room she called the nursery, and it looked cheerful and +bright. Old nurse had had the fire lit, and was sitting by it. A +kettle steamed on the hob, and nurse's cup and saucer and teapot, and +some bread and butter and cakes, were spread on the table. But as +Sibyl came in the sense of satisfaction which she had felt for a +moment or two dropped away from her like a mantle, and she only knew +that the ache at her heart was worse than ever. She sat down quietly, +and did not speak, but gazed fixedly into the fire. + +"What is it, pet?" nurse said. "Is anything the matter?" + +"No," answered Sibyl. "Nursie, can I read the Bible a bit?" + +"Sakes alive!" cried nurse, for Sibyl had never been remarkable for +any religious tendency, "to be sure, my darling," she answered. "I +never go from home without my precious Bible. It is the one my mother +gave me when I was a little girl. I'll fetch it for you, dearie." + +"Thank you," replied Sibyl. + +Nurse returned, and the much-read, much-worn Bible was placed +reverently in Sibyl's hands. + +"Now, my little darling," said nurse, "you look quite white. You'll +just read a verse or two, and then you'll go off to your bed." + +"I want to find a special verse," said Sibyl. "When I have read it I +will go to bed." She knitted her brows and turned the pages in a +puzzled, anxious way. + +"What's fretting you, dear? I know the Bible, so to speak, from end to +end. Can old nursie help you in any way?" + +"I know the verse is somewhere, but I cannot find the place. I +remember reading it, and it has come back to me to-night." + +"What is it, dear?" + +"'God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble.'" + +"Oh, yes, love," answered nurse promptly, "that's in the Epistle of +St. James, fourth chapter, sixth verse. I learned the whole of the +Epistle for my mother when I was young, and I have never forgotten a +word of it. Here it is, dear." + +"But what are you fretting your head over that verse for?" asked the +puzzled old woman; "there's some that I could find for you a deal more +suitable to little ladies like yourself. There's a beautiful verse, +for instance, which says, 'Children, obey your parents in the Lord.' +That means all those in charge of you, dear, nurses and governesses +and all. I heard its meaning explained once very clear, and that was +how it was put." + +"There is not a bit about nurses and governesses in the Bible," said +Sibyl, who had no idea of being imposed upon, although she was in +trouble. "Never mind that other verse now, nursie, it's not that I'm +thinking of, it's the one you found about 'God resisteth the proud, +and giveth grace to the humble.' It seems to 'splain things." + +"What things, dear?" + +"Why, about mother. Nursie, isn't my mother quite the very humblest +woman in all the world?" + +"Oh, my goodness me, no!" exclaimed the woman under her breath. "I +wouldn't remark it, my dear," she said aloud. + +"That's 'cos you know so very little. You can't never guess what my +ownest mother said to me to-day, and I'm not going to tell you, only +that verse comforts me, and I understand now." + +Sibyl got up and asked nurse to take off her pink frock. She felt +quite cheerful and happy again. She knelt down in her white nightdress +and said her prayers. She always prayed for her father and mother in a +peculiar way. She never asked God to give them anything, they had +already got all that heart could wish. They were beautiful in person, +they were lovely in character, they were perfect in soul. She could +only thank God for them. So she thanked God now as usual. + +"Thank You, Jesus, for giving me father and mother," said Sibyl, "and +in especial for making my mother just so truly perfect that she is +humble. She does not like me to think too much of her. It is because +she is humble, and You give grace to the humble. It is a great comfort +to me, Jesus, to know that, because I could not quite understand my +mother afore dinner. Good-night, Jesus, I am going to sleep now; I am +quite happy." + +Sibyl got into bed, closed her eyes, and was soon sound asleep. + +On the following Monday Lord Grayleigh went to town, and there he had +a rather important interview with Philip Ogilvie. + +"I failed to understand your letter," he said, "and have come to you +for an explanation." + +Ogilvie was looking worried and anxious. + +"I thought my meaning plain enough," he replied, "but as you are here, +I will answer you; and first, I want to put a question to you. Why do +you wish me to be the assayer?" + +"For many reasons; amongst others, because I wish to do you a good +turn. For your position you are not too well off. This will mean +several thousands a year to you, if the vein is as rich as we hope it +will be. The alluvial we know is rich. It has washed at five ounces to +the ton." + +"But if there should not happen to be a rich vein beneath?" queried +Ogilvie, and as he spoke he watched his companion narrowly. + +Lord Grayleigh shrugged his shoulders. The action was significant. + +"I see," cried Ogilvie. He was silent for a moment, then he sprang +to his feet. "I have regarded you as my friend for some time, +Grayleigh, and there have been moments when I have been proud of your +acquaintanceship, but in the name of all that is honorable, and all +that is virtuous, why will you mix up a pretended act of benevolence +to me with--you know what it means--a fraudulent scheme? You are +determined that there shall be a rich vein below the surface. In +plain words, if there is not, you want a false assay of the Lombard +Deeps. That is the plain English of it, isn't it?" + +"Pooh! my dear Ogilvie, you use harsh words. Fraudulent! What does the +world--our world I mean--consist of? Those who make money, and those +who lose it. It is a great competition of skill--a mere duel of wits. +All is fair in love, war, and speculation." + +"Your emendation of that old proverb may be _fin de siècle_, but it +does not suit my notions," muttered Ogilvie, sitting down again. + +Grayleigh looked keenly at him. + +"You will be sorry for this," he said; "it means much to you. You +would be quite safe, you know that." + +"And what of the poor country parson, the widow, the mechanic? I grant +they are fools; but----" + +"What is the matter with you?" said Lord Grayleigh; "you never were so +scrupulous." + +"I don't know that I am scrupulous now. I shall be very glad to assay +the mine for you, if I may give you a----" + +"We need not enter into that," said Grayleigh, rising; "you have +already put matters into words which had better never have been +uttered. I will ask you to reconsider this: it is a task too +important to decline without weighing all the _pros_ and _cons_. You +shall have big pay for your services; big pay, you understand." + +"And it is that which at once tempts and repels me," said Ogilvie. +Then he paused, and said abruptly, "How is Sibyl? Have you seen much +of her?" + +"Your little daughter? I saw her twice. Once, when she was very dirty, +and rather rude to me, and a second time, when she was the perfection +of politeness and good manners." + +"Sibyl is peculiar," said Ogilvie, and his eyes gleamed with a flash +of the same light in them which Sibyl's wore at intervals. + +"She is a handsome child, it is a pity she is your only one, Ogilvie." + +"Not at all," answered Ogilvie; "I never wish for another, she +satisfies me completely." + +"Well, to turn to the present matter," said Lord Grayleigh; "you will +reconsider your refusal?" + +"I would rather not." + +"But if I as a personal favor beg you to do so." + +"There is not the slightest doubt that the pay tempts me," said +Ogilvie; "it would be a kindness on your part to close the matter now +finally, to relieve me from temptation. But suppose I were to--to +yield, what would the shareholders say?" + +"They would be managed. The shareholders will expect to pay the +engineer who assays the mine for them handsomely." + +Ogilvie stood in a dubious attitude, Grayleigh went up and laid his +hand on his shoulder. + +"I will assume," he said, "that you get over scruples which after all +may have no foundation, for the mine may be all that we wish it to be. +What I want to suggest is this. Someone must go to Australia to assay +the Lombard Deeps. If you will not take the post we must get someone +else to step into your shoes. The new claim was discovered by the +merest accident, and the reports state it to be one of the richest +that has ever been panned out. Of course that is as it may be. We will +present you, if you give a good assay, with five hundred shares in the +new syndicate. You can wait until the shares go up, and then sell out. +You will clear thousands of pounds. We will also pay your expenses and +compensate you handsomely for the loss of your time. This is Monday; +we want you to start on Saturday. Give me your decision on Wednesday +morning. I won't take a refusal now." + +Ogilvie was silent; his face was very white, and his lips were +compressed together. Soon afterward the two men parted. + +Lord Grayleigh returned to Grayleigh Manor by a late train, and +Ogilvie went back to his empty house. Amongst other letters which +awaited him was one with a big blot on the envelope. This blot was +surrounded by a circle in red ink, and was evidently of great moment +to the writer. The letter was addressed to "Philip Ogilvie, Esq.," in +a square, firm, childish hand, and the great blot stood a little away +from the final Esquire. It gave the envelope an altogether striking +and unusual appearance. The flap was sealed with violet wax, and had +an impression on it which spelt Sibyl. Ogilvie, when he received this +letter, took it up tenderly, looked at the blot on the cover of the +envelope, glanced behind him in a shamefaced way, pressed his lips to +the violet seal which contained his little daughter's name, then +sitting down in his chair, he opened the envelope. + +Sibyl was very good at expressing her feelings in words, but as yet +she was a poor scribe, and her orthography left much to be desired. +Her letter was somewhat short, and ran as follows:-- + + "DADDY DEAR,--Here's a blot to begin, and the blot means a + kiss. I will put sum more at the end of the letter. Pleas + kiss all the kisses for they com from the verry botom of my + hart. I have tried Daddy to be good cos of you sinse I left + home, but I am afraid I have been rather norty. Mother gets + more purfect evry day. She is bewtiful and humbel. Mother + said she wasn't purfect but she is, isn't she father? I miss + you awful, speshul at nights, cos mother thinks its good for + me not to lie awake for her to come and kiss me. But you + never think that and you always com, and I thank God so much + for having gived you to me father. Your SIBYL." + + "Father, what does 'scroopolus' mean? I want to know + speshul.--SIB." + +The letter finished with many of these strange irregular blots, which +Ogilvie kissed tenderly, and then folded up the badly-spelt little +epistle, and slipped it into his pocket-book. Then he drew his chair +forward to where his big desk stood, and, leaning his elbows on it, +passed his hands through his thick, short hair. He was puzzled as he +had never been in all his life before. Should he go, or should he +stay? Should he yield to temptation, and become rich and prosperous, +or should he retain his honor, and face the consequences? He knew +well--he had seen them coming for a long time--the consequences he was +about to face would not be pleasant. They spelt very little short of +ruin. He suddenly opened a drawer, and took from its depths a sheaf of +accounts which different tradespeople had sent in to his wife. Mrs. +Ogilvie was hopelessly reckless and extravagant. Money in her hand was +like water; it flowed away as she touched it. Her jeweler's bill alone +amounted to thousands of pounds. If Ogilvie accepted the offer now +made to him he might satisfy these pressing creditors, and not deprive +Sibyl of her chance of an income by-and-by. Sibyl! As the thought of +her face came to him, he groaned inwardly. He wished sometimes that +God had never given him such a treasure. + +"I am unworthy of my little Angel," he said to himself. Then he +started up and began to pace the room. "And yet I would not be without +her for all the wealth in the world, for all the greatness and all the +fame," he cried; "she is more to me than everything else on earth. If +ever she finds out what I really am, I believe I shall go raving mad. +I must keep a straight front, must keep as clean as I can for Sibyl's +sake. O God, help me to be worthy of her!" + +He read the badly-spelt, childish letter once again, and then he +thrust the bills out of sight and thought of other liabilities which +he himself had incurred, till his thoughts returned to the tempting +offer made to him. + +"Shall I risk it?" he said to himself. "Shall I risk the chance of the +mine being really good, and go to Australia and see if it is as rich +as the prospectuses claim it to be. But suppose it is not? Well, in +that case I am bound to make it appear so. Five ounces of gold to +every ton; it seems _bona fide_ enough. It it is _bona fide_, why +should not I have my share of the wealth? It is as legitimate a way of +earning money as any other," and he swerved again in the direction of +Lord Grayleigh's offer. + +Lord Grayleigh had given him until Wednesday to decide. + +"I am sorry to seem to force your hand," that nobleman had said to him +at parting, "but if you distinctly refuse we must send another man, +and whoever goes must start on Saturday." + +A trip to Australia, how he would enjoy it! To be quite away from +London and his present conventional life. The only pain was the +thought of parting with Sibyl. But he would do his business quickly, +and come back and clasp her in his arms, and kiss her again and look +into her eyes and--turn round; yes, he would turn short round and +choose the right path, and be what she really thought him, a good man. +In a very small degree, he would be the sort of man his child imagined +him. + +As these thoughts flashed before his mind he forgot that dinner was +cooling in the dining-room, that he himself had eaten nothing for some +hours, and that a curious faintness which he had experienced once or +twice before had stolen over him. He did not like it nor quite +understand it. He rose, crossed the room, and was about to ring the +bell when a sudden spasm of most acute pain passed like a knife +through his chest. He was in such agony that for a moment he was +unable to stir. The sharpness of the pain soon went off, and he sank +into a chair faint and trembling. He was now well enough to ring his +bell. He did so, and the footman appeared. + +"Bring me brandy, and be quick," said Ogilvie. + +The man started when he saw his face. He soon returned with the +stimulant, which Ogilvie drank off. The agony in his chest subsided by +degrees, and he was able to go into the dining-room and even to eat. +He had never before had such terrible and severe pain, and now he was +haunted by the memory of his father, who had died suddenly of acute +disease of the heart. + +After dinner he went, as usual, to his club, where he met a friend +whom he liked. They chatted about many things, and the fears and +apprehensions of the puzzled man dropped gradually from him. It was +past midnight when Ogilvie returned home. He had now forgotten all +about the pain in his chest. It had completely passed away. He felt +as well and vigorous as ever. In the night, however, he slept badly, +had tiresome dreams, and was much haunted by the thought of his child. +If by any chance he were to die now! If, for instance, he died on his +way to Australia, he would leave Sibyl badly provided for. A good deal +of his private means had already been swallowed up by his own and his +wife's extravagant living, and what was left of it had been settled +absolutely on his wife at the time of their marriage. Although, of +course, this money at her mother's death would revert to Sibyl, he had +a presentiment, which he knew was founded on a firm basis, that Mrs. +Ogilvie might be careless, inconsiderate--not kind, in the true sense +of the word, to the little girl. If it came to be a tussle between +Sibyl's needs and her mother's fancied necessities, Ogilvie's +intuitions told him truly that Sibyl would go to the wall. + +"I must do something better than that for my little daughter," thought +the man. "I will not go to Australia until I have decided that point. +If I go, I shall make terms, and it will be for Sibyl's sake." + +But again that uncomfortable, tiresome conscience of his began to +speak; and that conscience told him that if he went to Australia for +the purpose of blinding the eyes of possible shareholders in London, +he would in reality be doing the very worst possible thing for his +child. + +He tossed about between one temptation and another for the remainder +of the night, and arose in the morning unrefreshed. As he was +dressing, however, a thought came to him which he hailed as a possible +relief. Why not do the right thing right from the beginning; tell +Grayleigh that the proposed commission to visit Australia was +altogether distasteful to him; that he washed his hands of the great +new syndicate; that they might sweep in their gold, but he would have +nothing to say to it? At the same time he might insure his life for +ten thousand pounds. It would be a heavy interest to pay, no doubt, +and they would probably have to live in a smaller house, and he and +his wife would have to put down their expenses in various ways, but he +would have the comfort of knowing that whatever happened Sibyl would +not be without means of subsistence. + +"When I have done that, and absolutely provided for her future, I +shall have a great sense of rest," thought the man. "I will go and see +Dr. Rashleigh, of the Crown and Life Insurance Company, as soon as +ever I get to the City. That is a happy thought." + +He smiled cheerfully to himself, ran downstairs, and ate a hearty +breakfast. A letter from his wife lay upon his plate. He did not even +open it. He thrust it into his pocket and went off to the City, +telling his servant as he did so that he would be back to dinner. + +As soon as he got to his office he read his letters, gave his clerks +directions, and went at once to see Dr. Rashleigh, of the Insurance +Company. + +Rashleigh happened to be one of his special friends, and he knew his +hours. It was a little unusual to expect him to examine him for an +insurance without an appointment; but he believed, in view of his +possible visit to Australia, that Rashleigh would be willing to +overlook ceremony. + +He arrived at the office, saw one of the clerks downstairs, heard that +Rashleigh was in and would soon be disengaged, and presently was shown +into the doctor's consulting room. + +Rashleigh was a grey-haired man of about sixty years of age. He spent +a couple of hours every day in the consulting room of the Crown and +Life Insurance Company. He rose now, and extended his hand with +pleasure when Ogilvie appeared. + +"My dear Ogilvie, and what do you want with me? Have you at last +listened to my entreaties that you should insure your life in a +first-class office?" + +"Something of the kind," said Ogilvie, forcing a smile, for again that +agony which had come over him yesterday assailed him. He knew that his +heart was throbbing faintly, and he remembered once more that his +father had died of heart disease. Oh, it was all nonsense; of course +he had nothing to fear. He was a man in his prime, not much over +thirty--he was all right. + +Rashleigh asked him a few questions. + +"I may have to go to Australia rather suddenly," said Ogilvie, "and I +should like first to insure my life. I want to settle the money on my +child before I leave home." + +"How large a sum do you propose to insure for?" asked the doctor. + +"I have given the particulars to the clerk downstairs. I should like +to insure for ten thousand pounds." + +"Well, I daresay that can be managed. You are an excellent client, and +quite a young man. Now just let me sound your lungs, and listen to +your heart." + +Ogilvie removed his necktie, unbuttoned his shirt, and placed himself +in the doctor's hands. + +Dr. Rashleigh made his examination without comment, slowly and +carefully. At last it was over. + +"Well?" said Ogilvie, just glancing at him. "It's all right, I +suppose." + +"It is not the custom for a doctor at an insurance office to tell his +patient anything about the result of the examination," was Rashleigh's +answer. "You'll hear all in good time." + +"But there really is no time to lose, and you are an old friend. You +look grave. If it cannot be done, of course it cannot, but I should +like to know." + +"When do you propose to go to Australia?" + +"I may not go at all. In fact if----" Ogilvie suddenly leaned against +the table. Once again he felt faint and giddy. "If this is all right, +I shall probably not go." + +"But suppose it is not all right?" + +"Then I sail on Saturday." + +"I may as well tell you the truth," said Rashleigh; "you are a brave +man. My dear fellow, the office cannot insure you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Heart," said Rashleigh. + +"Heart! Mine? Not affected?" + +"Yes." + +"Seriously?" + +"It is hard to answer that question. The heart is a strange organ, and +capable of a vast amount of resuscitation; nevertheless, in your case +the symptoms are grave; the aortic valve is affected. It behooves you +to be very careful." + +"Does this mean that I----" Ogilvie dropped into a chair. "Rashleigh," +he said suddenly, "I had a horrible attack last night. I forgot it +this morning when I came to you, but it was horrible while it lasted. +I thought myself, during those moments of torture, within a +measurable--a very measurable distance of the end." + +"Describe your sensations," said Rashleigh. + +Ogilvie did so. + +"Now, my dear fellow, I have a word to say. This insurance cannot be +done. But, for yourself, you must avoid excitement. I should like to +prescribe a course of living for you. I have studied the heart +extensively." + +"Will nothing put me straight? Cure me, I mean?" + +"I fear not." + +"Well, good-by, Rashleigh; I will call round to see you some evening." + +"Do. I should like you to have the advice of a specialist, Anderson, +the greatest man in town on the heart." + +"But where is the use? If you cannot cure me, he cannot." + +"You may live for years and years, and die of something else in the +end." + +"Just what was said to my father, who did not live for years and +years," answered the man. "I won't keep you any longer, Rashleigh." + +He left the office and went down into the street. As he crossed the +Poultry and got once more into the neighborhood of his own office, one +word kept ringing in his ears, "Doomed." + +He arrived at his office and saw his head clerk. + +"You don't look well, Mr. Ogilvie." + +"Never mind about my looks, Harrison," replied Ogilvie. "I have a +great deal to do, and need your best attention." + +"Certainly, sir; but, all the same, you don't look well." + +"Looks are nothing," replied Ogilvie. "I shall soon be all right. +Harrison, I am off to Australia on Saturday." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +On that same Tuesday Lord Grayleigh spent a rather anxious day. For +many reasons it would never do for him to press Ogilvie, and yet if +Ogilvie declined to go to Queensland matters might not go quite +smoothly with the new Syndicate. He was the most trusted and eminent +mine assayer in London, and had before now done useful work for +Grayleigh, who was chairman of several other companies. Up to the +present Grayleigh, a thoroughly worldly and hard-headed man of +business, had made use of Ogilvie entirely to his own benefit and +satisfaction. It was distinctly unpleasant to him, therefore, to find +that just at the most crucial moment in his career, when everything +depended on Ogilvie's subservience to his chief's wishes, he should +turn restive. + +"That sort of man with a conscience is intolerable," thought Lord +Grayleigh, and then he wondered what further lever he might bring to +bear in order to get Ogilvie to consent to the Australian visit. + +He was thinking these thoughts, pacing up and down alone in a retired +part of the grounds, when he heard shrill screams of childish +laughter, and the next moment Sibyl, in one of her white frocks, the +flounces badly torn, her hat off and hair in wild disorder, rushed +past. She was closely followed by Freda, Mabel and Gus being not far +behind. + +"Hullo!" said Lord Grayleigh; "come here, little woman, and account +for yourself." + +Sibyl paused in her mad career. She longed to say, "I'm not going +to account for myself to you," but she remembered her mother's +injunction. She had been on her very best behavior all Sunday, Monday, +and up to now on Tuesday, but her fit of goodness was coming to an +end. She was in the mood to be obstreperous, naughty, and wilful; but +the thought of her mother, who was so gently following in the path of +the humble, restrained her. + +"If mother, who is an angel, a perfect angel, can think herself +naughty and yet wish me to be good, I ought to help her by being as +good as I possibly can," she thought. + +So she stopped and looked at Lord Grayleigh with the wistful, puzzled +expression which at once repelled and attracted him. His own daughters +also drew up, panting. + +"We were chasing Sib," they said; "she challenged us. She said that, +although she does live in town, she could beat us." + +"And it looked uncommonly like it when I saw you all," was Grayleigh's +response. "Sibyl has long legs for her age." + +Sibyl looked down at the members in question, and put on a charming +pout. Grayleigh laughed, and going up to her side, laid his hand on +her shoulder. + +"I saw your father yesterday. Shall I tell you about him?" + +This, indeed, was a powerful bait. Sibyl's soft lips trembled +slightly. The wistful look in her eyes became appealing. + +"Pathetic eyes, more pathetic than any dog's," thought Lord Grayleigh. +He took her hand. + +"You and I will walk by ourselves for a little," he said. "Run away, +children. Sibyl will join you in a few moments." + +Sibyl, as if mesmerized, now accompanied Lord Grayleigh. She disliked +her present position immensely, and yet she wondered if it was given +to her by Lord Jesus, as a special opportunity which she was on no +account to neglect. Should she tell Lord Grayleigh what she really +thought of him? But for her mother she would not have hesitated for a +moment, but that mother had been very kind to her during the last two +days, and Sibyl had enjoyed studying her character from a new point of +view. Mother was polite to people, even though they were not quite +perfect. Mother always looked sweet and tidy and ladylike, and +beautifully dressed. Mother never romped, nor tore her clothes, nor +climbed trees. It was an uninteresting life from Sibyl's point of +view, and yet, perhaps, it was the right life. Up to the present the +child had never seriously thought of her own conduct at all. She +accepted the fact with placidity that she herself was not good. It was +rather interesting to be "not good," and yet to live in the house with +two perfectly angelic beings. It seemed to make their goodness all the +whiter. At the present moment she longed earnestly to be "not good." + +Lord Grayleigh, holding her hand, advanced in the direction of a +summer-house. + +"We will sit here and talk, shall we?" he said. + +"Yes, shall us?" replied Sibyl. + +Lord Grayleigh smiled; he placed himself in a comfortable chair, and +motioned Sibyl to take another. She drew a similar chair forward, +placed it opposite to her host, and sat on it. It was a high chair, +and her feet did not reach the ground. + +"I 'spect I'm rather short for my age," she said, looking down and +speaking in a tone of apology. + +"Why, how old are you?" he asked. + +"Quite old," she replied gravely; "I was eight at five minutes past +seven Monday fortnight back." + +"You certainly have a vast weight of years on your head," he replied, +looking at her gravely. + +She did not see the sarcasm, she was thinking of something else. +Suddenly she looked him full in the face. + +"You called me away from the other children 'cos you wanted to speak +about father, didn't you? Please tell me all about him. Is he quite +well?" + +"Of course he is." + +"Did he ask about me?" + +"Yes, he asked me how you were." + +"And what did you say?" + +"I replied, with truth, that I had twice had the pleasure of seeing +you; once when you were very rude to me, once when you were equally +polite." + +Sibyl's eyes began to dance. + +"What are you thinking of, eight-year-old?" asked Lord Grayleigh. + +"Of you," answered Sibyl with promptitude. + +"Come, that's very interesting; what about me? Now, be quite frank and +tell me why you were rude to me the first time we met?" + +"May I?" said Sibyl with great eagerness. "Do you really, truly mean +it?" + +"I certainly mean it." + +"You won't tell--mother?" + +"I won't tell--mother," said Lord Grayleigh, mimicking her manner. + +Sibyl gave a long, deep sigh. + +"I am glad," she said with emphasis. "I don't want my ownest mother to +be hurt. She tries so hard, and she is so beautiful and perfect. It's +most 'portant that I should speak to you, and if you will promise----" + +"I have promised; whatever you say shall be secret. Now, out with it." + +"You won't like it," said Sibyl. + +"You must leave me to judge of that." + +"I am going to be fwightfully rude." + +"Indeed! that is highly diverting." + +"I don't know what diverting is, but it will hurt you." + +"I believe I can survive the pain." + +Sibyl looked full at him then. + +"Are you laughing at me?" she said, and she jumped down from her high +chair. + +"I would not dream of doing so." + +The curious amused expression died out of Lord Grayleigh's eyes. He +somehow felt that he was confronting Sibyl's father with all those +unpleasant new scruples in full force. + +"Speak away, little girl," he said, "I promise not to laugh. I will +listen to you with respect. You are an uncommon child, very like your +father." + +"Thank you for saying that, but it isn't true; for father's perfect, +and I'm not. I will tell you now why I was rude, and why I am going to +be rude again, monstrous rude. It is because you told lies." + +"Indeed!" said Lord Grayleigh, pretending to be shocked. "Do you know +that that is a shocking accusation? If a man, for instance, had said +that sort of thing to another man a few years back, it would have been +a case for swords." + +"I don't understand what that means," said Sibyl. + +"For a duel; you have heard of a duel?" + +"Oh, in history, of course," said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling, "and one +man kills another man. They run swords through each other until one of +them gets killed dead. I wish I was a man." + +"Do you really want to run a sword through me?" + +Sibyl made no answer to this; she shut her lips firmly, her eyes +ablaze. + +"Come," said Lord Grayleigh, "it is unfair to accuse a man and not to +prove your accusation. What lies have I told?" + +"About my father." + +"Hullo! I suppose I am stupid, but I fail to understand." + +"I will try and 'splain. I didn't know that you was stupid, but you do +tell lies." + +"Well, go on; you are putting it rather straight, you know." + +"I want to." + +"Fire away then." + +"You told someone--I don't know the name--you told somebody that my +father was unscroopolus." + +"Indeed," said Lord Grayleigh. He colored, and looked uneasy. "I told +somebody--that is diverting." + +"It's not diverting," said Sibyl, "it's cruel, it's mean, it's wrong; +it's lies--black lies. Now you know." + +"But whom did I tell?" + +"Somebody, and somebody told me--I'm not going to tell who told me." + +"Even suppose I did say anything of the sort, what do you know about +that word?" + +"I found it out. An unscroopolus person is a person who doesn't act +right. Do you know that my father never did wrong, never from the time +he was borned? My father is quite perfect, God made him so." + +"Your father is a very nice fellow, Sibyl." + +"He is much better than nice, he is perfect; he never did anything +wrong. He is perfect, same as Lord Jesus is perfect." + +The little girl looked straight out into the summer landscape. Her +lips trembled, on each cheek there flushed a crimson rose. + +Lord Grayleigh shuffled his feet. Had anyone in all the world told him +that he would have listened quietly, and with a sense of respect, to +such a story as he was now hearing, he would have roared with +laughter. But he was not at all inclined to laugh now that he found +himself face to face with Sibyl. + +"And mother is perfect, too," she said, turning and facing him. + +Then he did laugh; he laughed aloud. + +"Oh, no," he said. + +"So you don't wonder that I hate you," continued Sibyl, taking no +notice of that last remark. "It's 'cos you like to tell lies about +good people. My father is perfect, and you called him unscroopolus. No +wonder I hate you." + +"Listen now, little girl." Lord Grayleigh took the hot, trembling +hand, and drew the child to his side. + +"Don't shrink away, don't turn from me," he said; "I am not so bad as +you make me out. If I did make use of such an expression, I have +forgotten it. Men of the world say lots of things that little girls +don't understand. Little girls of eight years old, if they are to grow +up nice and good, and self-respecting, must take the world on trust. +So you must take me on trust, and believe that even if I did say what +you accuse me of saying, I still have a great respect for your father. +I think him a right down _good_ fellow." + +"The best in all the world?" queried Sibyl. + +"I am sure at least of one thing, that no little girl ever had a +fonder father." + +"And you own up you told a lie? You do own up that father's quite +perfect?" + +"Men like myself don't care to own themselves in the wrong," said Lord +Grayleigh, "and the fact is--listen, you queer little mortal--I don't +like perfect people. It is true that I have never met any." + +"You have met my father and my mother." + +"Come, Sibyl, shall we make a compromise? I like you, I want you to +like me. Forget that I said what I myself have forgotten, and believe +that I have a very great respect for your father. Come, if he were +here, he would ask you to be friendly with me." + +"Would he?" said the child. She looked wistful and interested. "There +are lots of things I want to be 'splained to me," she said. Then, +after a moment--"I'll think whether I'll be friends with you, and +I'll let you know, may be to-morrow." + +As she said the last words she pushed aside his detaining hand, and +ran out of the summer-house. He heard her eager, quick steps as she +ran away, and a moment later there came her gay laughter back to him +from the distance. She had joined the other children, and was happy in +her games. + +"Poor little maid!" he said to himself, and he sat on grave and +silent. He did not like to confess it, but Sibyl's words had affected +him. + +"The faith she has in that poor fellow is quite beautiful," was his +inward thought; "it seems a sin to break it. If he does go to +Queensland it will be broken, and somewhat rudely. I could send +Atherton. Atherton is not the man for our purpose. His report won't +affect the public as Ogilvie's report would, but he has never yet been +troubled by conscience, and Sibyl's faith will be unshaken. It is +worth considering. It is not every man who has got a little daughter +like Sibyl." + +These thoughts came and worried him; presently he rose with a laugh. + +"What am I," he said to himself, "to have my way disturbed by the +words of a mere child?" And just then he heard the soft rustle of a +silk dress, and, looking up, he saw the pretty face of Mrs. Ogilvie. + +"Come in and sit down," he said, jumping up and offering her a chair. +"It is cool and yet not draughty in here. I have just had the pleasure +of a conversation with your little daughter." + +"Indeed! I do hope she has been conducting herself properly." + +"I must not repeat what she said; I can only assure you that she +behaved charmingly." + +"I am so relieved; Sibyl so often does not behave charmingly, that you +don't wonder that I should ask you the question." + +"She has a very great respect for you," said Lord Grayleigh; "it makes +me think you a better woman to have a child regard you as she does." + +Mrs. Ogilvie fidgeted; she had seated herself on a low rustic chair, +and she looked pretty and elegant in her white summer dress, and her +hat softening the light in her beautiful eyes. She toyed with her +white lace parasol, and looked, as Sibyl had looked a short time ago, +across the lovely summer scene; but in her eyes there shone the world +with all its temptations and all its lures, and Sibyl's had made +acquaintance with the stars, and the lofty peaks of high principle, +and honor, and knew nothing of the real world. + +Lord Grayleigh, in a kind of confused way which he did not himself +understand, noticed the difference in the glance of the child and the +woman. + +"Your little girl has the highest opinion of you," he repeated; "the +very highest." + +"And I wish she would not talk or think such nonsense," said Mrs. +Ogilvie, in a burst of irritation. "You know well that I am not what +Sibyl thinks me. I am an ordinary, everyday woman. I hope I am"--she +smiled--"charming." + +"You are that, undoubtedly," said the nobleman, slightly bowing his +head. + +"I hope I am what a man most likes in a woman, agreeable, charming, +and fairly amiable; but I am no saint, and I don't want to be. Sibyl's +attitude towards me is therefore most irritating, and I am doing my +utmost----" + +"You are doing what?" said Lord Grayleigh. He rose, and stood by the +summer-house door. + +"To open her eyes." + +"I would not if I were you," he said, gravely; "it is not often that a +child has her faith. To shake it means a great deal." + +"What are you talking about now?" + +"I don't often read my Bible," he continued, "but, of course, I did as +a boy--most boys do. My mother was a good woman. I am thinking of +something said in that Holy Book." + +"You are quite serious; I never knew you in this mood before." + +"I must tell it to you. 'Whosoever shall offend one of these little +ones, it were better that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and +he were cast into the depths of the sea.'" + +"How unpleasant," said Mrs. Ogilvie, after a pause, "and I rather fail +to see the connection. Shall we change the subject?" + +"With pleasure." + +"What arrangement did you make with Philip yesterday?" + +"I made no absolute arrangement, but I think he will do according to +your wishes." + +"Then he will assay the mine, act as the engineer to the company?" + +"Precisely." + +"Has he promised?" + +"Not yet, but my impression is that he will do it." + +"What does assaying the mine mean?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie knitted her pretty dark brows, and looked as inquisitive +and childish at that moment as Sibyl herself. + +"To assay a mine means to find out accurately what it contains," said +Lord Grayleigh. Once again his eyes turned away from his questioner. +He had very little respect for Mrs. Ogilvie's conscience, but he did +not want to meet anyone's gaze at that instant. + +"Nevertheless," he continued, after a pause, "your husband has not +definitely promised, and it is on the cards that he may refuse." + +"He will be a madman if he does," cried Mrs. Ogilvie, and she stamped +her pretty foot impatiently. + +"According to Sibyl's light, he will be the reverse of that; but then, +Sibyl, and your husband also, believe in such a thing as conscience." + +"Philip's conscience!" said the wife, with a sneer; "what next?" + +"It appears to me," said Lord Grayleigh, "that he has an active one." + +"It has come to life very quickly, then. This is mere humbug." + +"Let me speak. To be frank with you, I respect your husband's +conscience; and, perhaps, if you respected it more----" + +"I really will not stay here to be lectured," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "It +is to your advantage, doubtless, that Philip should do something for +you; it must be to your advantage, for you are going to pay him well. +Will he do it, or will he not? That is the question I want answered." + +"And I cannot answer it, for I do not know." + +"But you think he will?" + +"That is my impression." + +"You can, at least, tell me what occurred." + +"I can give you an outline of what occurred. I made him an offer to go +to Queensland." + +"To go where?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, looking slightly startled. + +"As the mine happens to be in Queensland, how can he assay it in +England?" + +"I didn't know." + +"Yes, if he does anything, he must go to Queensland. He must see the +mine or mines himself; his personal report is essential. He will be +paid well, and will receive a large number of shares." + +"What do you mean by being paid well?" + +"He will have his expenses, and something over." + +"Something over! that is a very elastic term." + +"In your husband's case it will mean thousands." + +"Oh, I see; and then the shares?" + +"The shares will practically make him a rich man." + +"Then of course he will consent. I will go at once, and send him a +line." She turned to leave the summer-house. Lord Grayleigh followed +her. He laid his hand for an instant on her slim arm. + +"If I were you," he said, and there was an unwonted tremble in his +voice as he spoke, "if I were you, upon my honor, I'd leave him +alone." + +"Leave him alone now? Why should not the wife influence the husband +for his own good?" + +"Very well," said Lord Grayleigh; "I only ventured to make a +suggestion." + +She looked at him in a puzzled way, raised her brows, and said: + +"I never found you so disagreeable before." She then left the +summer-house. + +Lord Grayleigh stood still for a moment, then, with quick strides, he +went in the direction of the shrubbery. Sibyl, hot, excited, +breathless after her game, did not even see him. He called her and she +stopped. + +"May I speak to you?" he said. He had the courteous manner to her +which he did not vouch-safe to many of his gay lady acquaintances. + +She ran to his side at once. + +"Don't you want to send your father a letter by this post?" + +"Yes, of course; is there time?" + +"I will make time; go into the house and write to him." + +"But why?" + +"He would like to hear from you." + +"Do you want me to say anything special?" + +"Nothing special; write to him from your heart, that is all." And then +Lord Grayleigh turned away in the direction of his stables. He ordered +the groom to saddle his favorite horse, and was soon careering across +country. Sibyl's letter to her father was short, badly spelt, and +brimful of love. Mrs. Ogilvie's was also short, and brimful of +worldliness. + +The two letters, each as wide as the poles apart in spirit and in +intention, met in the post-box, and were each carried as rapidly as +mail trains could take them to the metropolis. + +On the next morning these letters lay beside Philip Ogilvie's plate at +breakfast. Sibyl's was well blotted and sealed with her favorite +violet seal. Mrs. Ogilvie's was trim, neat, and without a blemish. +Ogilvie read them both, first the mother's, then the child's. Sibyl's +was almost all kisses: hardly any words, just blots and kisses. +Ogilvie did not press his lips to the kisses this time. He read the +letter quickly, thrust it into his pocket, and once more turned his +attention to what his wife had said. He smiled sarcastically as he +read. The evening before he had written Lord Grayleigh accepting the +proffered engagement. The die was cast. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +The following letter reached Philip Ogilvie late that same evening:-- + + MY DEAR OGILVIE, + + Your decision is naturally all that can be desired, and I + only hope you may never live to regret it. I have, most + unfortunately, given my ankle a bad sprain. I had a fall + yesterday when out riding, and am obliged to lie up for a + day or two. There is much that I should wish to talk over + with you before you go to Queensland. Can you come down here + to-morrow by the first train? I will not detain you an hour + longer than I can help. All other arrangements are in the + hands of my agents, Messrs. Spielmann & Co. + + Yours sincerely, + GRAYLEIGH. + +Ogilvie read this letter quickly. He knit his brow as he did so. It +annoyed him a good deal. + +"I did not want to go there," he thought. "I am doing this principally +for the sake of the child. I can arrange all financial matters through +Spielmann. Grayleigh wants this thing done; I alone can do it to his +satisfaction and to the satisfaction of the public. He must pay +me--what he pays will be Sibyl's, the provision for her future. But I +don't want to see the child--until all this dirty work is over. If I +come back things may be altered. God only knows what may have +occurred. The mine may be all right, there may be deliverance, but I +didn't want to see her before I go. It is possible that I may not be +able to keep my composure. There are a hundred things which make an +interview between the child and me undesirable." + +He thought and thought, and at last rose from his chair and began to +pace the room. He had not suffered from his heart since his interview +with Dr. Rashleigh. He gave it but scant consideration now. + +"If I have a fatal disease it behooves me to act as if I were +absolutely sound," he said to himself. And he had so acted after the +first shock of Rashleigh's verdict had passed off. But he did not like +the thought of seeing Sibyl. Still, Grayleigh's letter could not be +lightly disregarded. If Grayleigh wished to see him and could not come +to town, it was essential that he should go to him. + +He rang his bell and sent off a telegram to the effect that he would +arrive at Grayleigh Manor at an early hour on the following day. + +This telegram Lord Grayleigh showed to Mrs. Ogilvie before she went to +bed that night. + +"He has consented to go, as of course you are well aware," said Lord +Grayleigh, "and he comes here to see me to-morrow. But I would not say +anything about his departure for Queensland to your little daughter, +until after his visit. He may have something to say in the matter. Let +him, if he wishes it, be the one to break it to her." + +"But why should not the child know? How ridiculous you are!" + +"That is exactly as her father pleases," replied Lord Grayleigh. "I +have a kind of intuition that he may want to tell her himself. Anyhow, +I trust you will oblige me in the matter." + +Mrs. Ogilvie pouted. She was not enjoying herself as much at Grayleigh +Manor as she had expected, and, somehow or other, she felt that she +was in disgrace. This was by no means an agreeable sensation. She +wondered why she was not in higher spirits. To visit Australia +nowadays was a mere nothing. Her husband would be back again, a rich +man, in six months at the farthest. During those six months she +herself might have a good time. There were several country houses +where she might visit. Her visiting list was already nearly full. She +would take Sibyl with her, although Sibyl sometimes was the reverse +of comforting; but it looked effective to see the handsome mother and +the beautiful child together, and Sibyl, when she did not go too far, +said very pathetic and pretty things about her. Oh yes, she and her +little daughter would have a good time, while the husband and father +was earning money for them in Australia: while the husband and father +was raking in gold, they might really enjoy themselves. + +As she thought of this, Mrs. Ogilvie felt so light-hearted that she +could have skipped. Those debts which had weighed so on what she was +pleased to call her conscience, would be liquidated once and for all, +and in the future she would have plenty of money. It was the be-all of +existence to her feeble soul. She would have it in abundance in the +time which lay before her. + +"Philip is a wise man. It was very silly of him to hesitate and make a +fuss," she thought; "but he has decided wisely, as I knew he would. I +shall give him a kiss when I see him, and tell him that I am quite +pleased with him." + +She went to bed, therefore, cheerful, and the next morning put on her +very prettiest dress in order to meet her husband. + +Ogilvie walked from the little station, which was only half a mile +away. Mrs. Ogilvie, going slowly up the avenue, saw him coming to +meet her. She stood under the shade of a great overhanging beech tree, +and waited until he appeared. + +"Well, Mildred, and how are you?" said her husband. He took her hand, +and, bending forward, brushed the lightest of kisses against her +cheek. + +"Quite well," she replied. "Is not the day pleasant? I am so glad +about everything, Phil. But you don't look quite the thing yourself. +Have you taken cold or suffered from one of those nasty rheumatic +attacks?" + +"I am all right," he answered shortly. "I have a very few moments to +be here, as I want to catch the 12.30 back. Do you know if Lord +Grayleigh is anywhere to be found?" + +"I saw him half an hour ago. I think you will find him in the +smoking-room. He is expecting you." + +"And"--Ogilvie glanced to right and left--"the child?" + +"She is with the other children. Shall I send her to you?" + +"Not yet." + +"It is so nice of you to go, Phil; it will do you no end of good. You +will enjoy your voyage," continued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning now and +laying her hand on her husband's arm. + +Mr. Rochester, who was quite a young man himself, and was deeply +occupied at this time with thoughts of love and marriage, happened to +see the pair as they sauntered by together. He knew nothing, of +course, of Ogilvie's intended visit to Australia, nor was he in any +sense of the word behind the scenes. On the contrary, he thought that +Mrs. Ogilvie and her husband made a perfect picture of beautiful love +between husband and wife. + +"It is good of you," pursued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning once more to her +husband. "I am greatly obliged. I am more than obliged, I am relieved +and--and satisfied. We shall have a happy life together when you come +back. There are, of course, little matters we ought to talk over +before we go." + +"Debts, you mean," said Ogilvie, bluntly. "I opened your bills in your +absence. They will be----" + +"Oh, Phil!" Mrs. Ogilvie's face turned very white. + +"I will speak about them before I leave," he continued. "Now I must +find Grayleigh." + +"Is it true that you are going on Saturday?" + +"Quite true." + +"Had I not better return to town with you? There will be several +things to put in order." + +"I can write to you, Mildred. Now that you are here you had better +stay here. The change will be good for you. You need not return to +the house in town before next week." + +"If you really don't want me, I am certainly enjoying myself here." + +"I don't want you," he replied, but as he spoke his grey eyes looked +wistful. He turned for an instant and glanced at her. He noted the +sunny, lovely hair, the agile, youthful, rounded figure. Once he had +loved her passionately. + +"Sibyl will be delighted to see you," continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "She has +been, on the whole, behaving very nicely. Of course, making both +friends and foes, as is her usual impetuous way." + +"That reminds me," said Ogilvie. "I shall see Sibyl before I leave; +but that reminds me." + +"Of what?" + +"I do not wish her to be told." + +"Told what? What do you mean? My dear Phil, you are eccentric." + +"I have no time to dispute the point, Mildred. I wish to give one +hasty direction, which is to be obeyed. Sibyl is not to be told that I +am going to Australia." + +"What, never?" + +"She must be told when I am gone, but not till then. I will write to +her, and thus break the news. She is not to be told to-day, not until +she gets home, you understand? I won't go at all if you tell her." + +"Oh, of course, I understand," said Mrs. Ogilvie, in a frightened way; +"but why should not the child hear what really is good tidings?" + +"I do not wish it. Now, have you anything further to say, for I must +see Lord Grayleigh immediately." + +Mrs. Ogilvie clutched her husband's arm. + +"You will leave me plenty of money when you go, will you not?" + +"You shall have a bank-book and an account, but you must be careful. +My affairs are not in the most prosperous condition, and your bills +are terribly heavy." + +"My bills! but I really----" + +"We will not dispute them. They shall be paid before I go." + +"Oh, my dear Philip, and you are not angry?" + +"They shall be paid, Mildred. The liquidation of your debts is part of +the reward for taking up this loathsome work." + +"Philip, how ridiculously morbid you are!" + +The husband and wife walked slower and slower. Ogilvie saw Grayleigh +standing on the steps. + +"There is Lord Grayleigh," he said. "I must go at once. Yes, the +bills will be paid." He laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. + +"There is nothing else, is there, Mildred?" + +"No," she began, then she hesitated. + +"What more?" + +"A trinket, it took my fancy--a diamond cross--you noticed it. I could +not resist it." + +"How much?" said the man. His face was very stern and white, and there +was a blue look round his lips. + +"Two thousand pounds." + +"Let me have the bill to-morrow at latest. It shall be cleared. Now +don't keep me." + +He strode past her and went up to where Lord Grayleigh was waiting for +him. + +"This is good," said the nobleman. "I am very sorry I could not come +to town. Yes, my ankle is better, but I dare not use it. I am limping, +as you see." + +"Shall we go into the house?" said Ogilvie; "I want to get this thing +over. I have not a moment if I am to start on Saturday." + +"You must do what we want. The public are impatient. We must get your +report as soon as possible. You will wire it to us, of course." + +"That depends." + +"Now listen, Ogilvie," said Lord Grayleigh, as they both entered the +study of the latter and Ogilvie sank into a chair, "you either do this +thing properly or you decline it, you give it up." + +"Can I? I thought the die was cast." + +"The worldly man in me echoes that hope, but I _could_ get Atherton to +take your place even now." + +"Even now?" echoed Philip Ogilvie. + +"Even now it may be possible to manage it, although I"--Lord Grayleigh +had a flashing memory of Sibyl's face and the look in her eyes, when +she spoke of her perfect father. Then he glanced at the man who, +silent and with suppressed suffering in his face, stood before him. +The irresolution in Ogilvie's face took something from its character, +and seemed to lower the man's whole nature. Lord Grayleigh shivered; +then the uncomfortable sensation which the memory of Sibyl gave him +passed away. + +"I shall regret it extremely if you cannot do what I want," he said, +with emphasis. + +Ogilvie had a quick sensation of momentary relief. His wife owed +another two thousand pounds. It would be bankruptcy, ruin if he did +not go. He stood up. + +"The time for discussing the thing is over," he said. "I will +go--and--do _as you wish_. The only thing to put straight is the price +down." + +"What do you mean by the price down?" + +"I want money." + +"Of course, you shall have it." + +"I want more than my expenses, and something to cover the loss to my +business which my absence may create." + +"How much more?" Lord Grayleigh looked at him anxiously. + +"Ten thousand pounds in cash now, to be placed to my credit in my +bank." + +"Ten thousand pounds in cash! That is a big order." + +"Not too big for what you require me to do. You make hundreds of +thousands by me eventually; what is one ten thousand? It will relieve +my mind and set a certain matter straight. The fact is--I will confide +in you so far--my own pecuniary affairs are anything but flourishing. +I have had some calls to meet. What little property I own is settled +on my wife. You know that a man cannot interfere with his marriage +settlements. I have one child. I want to make a special provision for +her." + +"I know your child," said Lord Grayleigh, in a very grave tone; "she +is out of the common." + +A spasm of pain crossed the father's face. + +"She is," he answered slowly. "I wish to make a provision for her. If +I die (I may die, we are all mortal; I am going to a distant place; +possibilities in favor of death are ten per cent. greater than if I +remain at home)--if I die, this will be hers. It will comfort me, and +make it absolutely impossible for me to go back. You understand that +sometimes a miserable starved voice within me speaks. I allude to the +voice of conscience. However much it clamors, I cannot listen to it +when that sum of money lies in the bank to my credit, with my last +will and testament leaving it eventually to my daughter." + +"I would not give your daughter such a portion, if I were you," +thought Lord Grayleigh, but he did not say the words aloud. He said +instead, "What you wish shall be done." + +The two men talked a little longer together. Certain necessary +arrangements were concluded, and Ogilvie bore in his pocket before he +left a check for ten thousand pounds on Lord Grayleigh's private +account. + +"This clinches matters," he said, and he gave a significant glance at +Grayleigh. + +"You will see Spielmann for all the rest," was Grayleigh's answer; +"and now, if you must catch the train----" + +"Yes, I must; good-by." + +Lord Grayleigh walked with him as far as the porch. + +"Have you seen your wife?" he asked. "Can we not induce you to wait +for the next train and stay to lunch?" + +"No, thanks; it is impossible. Oh, I see you have sent for the +dog-cart; I will drive to the station." + +Just then Sibyl, Gus and Freda appeared in view. Sibyl was extremely +dirty. She had been climbing trees to good effect that morning, and +there was a rent in front of her dress and even a very apparent hole +in one of her stockings. She and Gus were arguing somewhat fiercely, +and the cap she wore was pushed back, and her golden hair was all in a +tangle. Suddenly she raised her eyes, caught sight of her father, and, +with a shout something between a whoop and a cry, flung herself into +his arms. + +"Daddy, daddy!" she cried. + +He clasped her tightly to his breast. He did not notice the shabby +dress nor the torn stocking; he only saw the eager little face, the +eyes brimful with love; he only felt the beating of the warm, warm +heart. + +"Why, dad, now I shall be happy. Where are you, Gus? Gus, this is +father; Gus, come here!" + +But at a nod from Lord Grayleigh both Gus and Freda had vanished round +the corner. + +"I will say good-by, if you must go, Ogilvie," said Grayleigh. He +took his hand, gave it a sympathetic squeeze, and went into the house. + +"But must you go, father? Why, you have only just come," said Sibyl. + +"I must, my darling, I must catch the next train; there is not ten +minutes. Jump on the dog-cart, and we will drive to the station +together." + +"Oh, 'licious!" cried Sibyl, "more than 'licious; but what will mother +say?" + +"Never mind, the coachman will bring you back. Jump up, quick." + +In another instant Sibyl was seated between her father and the +coachman. The spirited mare dashed forward, and they bowled down the +avenue. Ogilvie's arm was tight round Sibyl's waist, he was hugging +her to him, squeezing her almost painfully tight. She gasped a little, +drew in her breath, and then resolved to bear it. + +"There's something troubling him, he likes having me near him," +thought the child. "I wouldn't let him see that he's squeezing me up a +bit too tight for all the world." + +The mare seemed to fly over the ground. Ogilvie was glad. + +"We shall have a minute or two at the station. I can speak to her +then," he thought. "I won't tell her that I am going, but I can say +something." Then the station appeared in view, and the mare was +pulled up with a jerk; Ogilvie jumped to his feet, and lifted Sibyl to +the ground. + +"Wait for the child," he said to the servant, "and take her back +carefully to the house." + +"Yes, sir," answered the man, touching his hat. + +Ogilvie went into the little station, and Sibyl accompanied him. + +"I have my ticket," he said, "we have three minutes to spare, three +whole precious minutes." + +"Three whole precious minutes," repeated Sibyl. "What is it, father?" + +"I am thinking of something," he said. + +"What?" asked the girl. + +"For these three minutes, one hundred and eighty seconds, you and I +are to all intents and purposes alone in the world." + +"Father! why, so we are," she cried. "Mother's not here, we are all +alone. Nothing matters, does it, when we are alone together?" + +"Nothing." + +"You don't look quite well, dear father." + +"I have been having some suffering lately, and am worried about +things, those sort of things that don't come to little girls." + +"Of course they don't, father, but when I'm a woman I'll have them. +I'll take them instead of you." + +"Now listen, my darling." + +"Father, before you speak ... I know you are going to say something +very, _very_ solemn; I know you when you're in your solemn moments; I +like you best of all then. You seem like Jesus Christ then. Don't you +feel like Jesus Christ, father?" + +"Never, Sib, never; but the time is going by, the train is signalled. +My dearest, what is it?" + +"Mayn't I go back to town with you? I like the country, I like Gus and +Freda and Mabel, but there is no place like your study in the evening, +and there's no place like my bedroom at night when you come into it. +I'd like to go back with you, wouldn't it be fun! Couldn't you take +me?" + +"I could, of course," said the man, and just for a moment he wavered. +It would be nice to have her in the house, all by herself, for the +next two or three days, but he put the thought from him as if it were +a temptation. + +"No, Sib," he said, "you must go back to your mother; it would not be +at all right to leave your mother alone." + +"Of course not," she answered promptly, and she gave a sigh which was +scarcely a sigh. + +"It would have been nice all the same," said Ogilvie. "Ah! there is +my train; kiss me, darling." + +She flung her arms tightly round his neck. + +"Sibyl, just promise before I leave you that you will be a good girl, +that you will make goodness the first thing in life. If, for instance, +we were never to meet again--of course we shall, thousands of times, +but just suppose, for the sake of saying it, that we did not, I should +like to know that my little girl put goodness first. There is nothing +else worth the while in life. Cling on to it, Sibyl, cling tight hold +to it. Never forget that I----" + +"Yes, father, I will cling to it. Yes, father!" + +"That I wish it. You would do a great deal for me?" + +"For you and Lord Jesus Christ," she answered softly. + +"Then I wish this, remember, and whatever happens, whatever you hear, +remember you promised. Now here's my train, stand back. Good-by, +little woman, good-by." + +"I'll see you again very, very soon, father?" + +"Very soon," answered the man. He jumped into the carriage, the train +puffed out of the station. A porter came up to Sibyl and spoke to her. + +"Anybody come to meet you, Miss?" + +"No, thank you," she answered with dignity; "I was seeing my father +off to town; there's my twap waiting outside." + +The man smiled, and the little girl went gravely out of the station. + +Sibyl went back to Lord Grayleigh's feeling perplexed. There was an +expression about her father's face which puzzled her. + +"He ought to have me at home with him," she thought. "I have seen him +like this now and then, and he's mostly not well. He's beautiful when +he talks as he did to-day, but he's mostly not well when he does it. I +'spect he's nearer Lord Jesus when he's not well, that must be it. My +most perfect father wants me to be good; I don't want to be good a +bit, but I must, to please him." + +Just then a somewhat shrill and petulant voice called the child. + +"My dear Sibyl, where _have_ you been? What are you doing on the +dog-cart? How unladylike. Jump down this minute." + +The man pulled up the mare, and Sibyl jumped to the ground. She met +her mother's angry face with a smile which she tried hard to make +sweet. + +"I didn't do anything naughty, really, Mummy," she said. "Father took +me to the station to say good-by. He's off back to town, and he took +me with him, and I came back on the twap." + +"Don't say twap, sound your 'r'--trap." + +"Tw-rap," struggled Sibyl over the difficult word. + +"And now you are to go into the house and ask Nurse to put on your +best dress. I am going to take you to a garden party, immediately +after lunch. Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen Douglas are coming with us. +Be quick." + +"Oh, 'licious," said Sibyl. She rushed into the house, and up to the +nursery. Nurse was there waiting to deck her in silk and lace and +feathers. The little girl submitted to her toilet, and now took a vast +interest in it. + +"You must make me quite my prettiest self," she said to the nurse; +"you must do your very best, 'cos mother----" + +"What about your mother now, missy?" + +"'Cos mother's just a little----Oh, nothing," said Sibyl, pulling +herself up short. + +"She likes me best when I'm pretty," continued the child; "but father +likes me always. Nursie, do you know that my ownest father came down +here to-day, and that I dwove to the station to see him off? Did you +know it?" + +"No, Miss Sibyl, I can't say I did." + +"He talked to me in a most pwivate way," continued Sibyl. "He told me +most 'portant things, and I promised him, Nursie--I promised him that +I'd----Oh, no! I won't tell you. Perhaps I won't be able to keep my +promise, and then you'd----Nothing, Nursie, nothing; don't be +'quisitive. I can see in your face that you are all bursting with +'quisitiveness; but you aren't to know. I am going to a party with my +own mother after lunch, and Lady Helen is coming, and Mr. Rochester. I +like them both very much indeed. Lady Helen told me stories last +night. She put her arm round my waist, and she talked to me; and I +told her some things, too, and she laughed." + +"What did you tell her, Miss Sibyl?" + +"About my father and mother. She laughed quite funnily. I wish people +wouldn't; it shows how little they know. It's 'cos they are so far +from being perfect that they don't understand perfect people. But +there's the lunch gong. Yes, I do look very nice. Good-by, Nursie." + +Sibyl ran downstairs. The children always appeared at this meal, and +she took her accustomed place at the table. Very soon afterwards, she, +her mother, Lady Helen, and Mr. Rochester, started for a place about +ten miles off, where an afternoon reception was being given. + +Sibyl felt inclined to be talkative, and Mrs. Ogilvie, partly because +she had a sore feeling in her heart with regard to her husband's +departure, although she would not acknowledge it, was inclined to be +snappish. She pulled the little girl up several times, and at last +Sibyl subsided in her seat, and looked out straight before her. It was +then that Lady Helen once more put her arm round her waist. + +"Presently," said Lady Helen, "when the guests are all engaged, you +and I will slip out by ourselves, and I will show you one of the most +beautiful views in all England. We climb a winding path, and we +suddenly come out quite above all the trees, and we look around us; +and when we get there, you'll be able to see the blue sea in the +distance, and the ships, one of which is going to take your----" + +But just then Mrs. Ogilvie gave Helen Douglas so severe a push with +her foot, that she stopped, and got very red. + +"What ship do you mean?" said Sibyl, surprised at the sudden break in +the conversation, and now intensely interested, "the ship that is +going to take my--my what?" + +"Did you never hear the old saying, that you must wait until your ship +comes home?" interrupted Mr. Rochester, smiling at the child, and +looking at Lady Helen, who had not got over her start and confusion. + +"But this ship was going out," said Sibyl. "Never mind, I 'spect it's +a secret; there's lots of 'em floating round to-day. I've got some +'portant ones of my own. Never mind, Lady Helen, don't blush no more." +She patted Lady Helen in a patronizing way on her hand, and the whole +party laughed; the tension was, for the time, removed. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Ogilvie made a will leaving the ten thousand pounds which Lord +Grayleigh had given him absolutely to Sibyl for her sole use and +benefit. He also made all other preparations for his absence from +home, and started for Queensland on Saturday. He wrote to his wife on +the night before he left England, repeating his injunction that on no +account was Sibyl to be yet told of his departure. + +"When she absolutely must learn it, break it to her in the tenderest +way possible," he said; "but as Grayleigh has kindly invited you both +to stay on at Grayleigh Manor for another week, you may as well do so, +and while there I want the child to be happy. The country air and the +companionship of other children are doing her a great deal of good. I +never saw her look better than I did the other day. I should also be +extremely glad, Mildred, if on your return to town you would arrange +to send Sibyl to a nice day-school, where she could have companions. I +have nothing to say against Miss Winstead, but I think the child would +be better, less old-fashioned, and might place us more on the pedestal +which we really ought to occupy, if she had other children to talk to +and exchange thoughts with. Try to act, my dear wife, as I would like +in this particular, I beg of you. Also when you have to let my darling +know that I am away, you will find a letter for her in my left-hand +top drawer in my study table. Give it to her, and do not ask to see +it. It is just a little private communication from her father, and for +her eyes alone. Be sure, also, you tell her that, all being well, I +hope to be back in England by the end of the summer." + +Ogilvie added some more words to his letter, and Mrs. Ogilvie received +it on Saturday morning. She read it over carelessly, and then turned +to Jim Rochester who stood near. During her visit to Grayleigh Manor +she had got to know this young man very well, and to like him +extremely. He was good-looking, pleasant to talk to, well informed, +and with genial, hearty views of life. He had been well brought up, +and his principles were firm and unshaken. His notion of living was to +do right on every possible occasion, to turn from the wrong with +horror, to have faith in God, to keep religion well in view, and as +far as in him lay to love his neighbor better than himself. + +Rochester, it may be frankly stated, had some time ago lost his heart +to Lady Helen Douglas, who, on her part, to all appearance returned +his affection. Nothing had yet, however, been said between the pair, +although Rochester's eyes proclaimed his secret whenever they rested +on Lady Helen's fair face. + +He watched Mrs. Ogilvie now with a sudden interest as she folded up +her husband's letter. + +"Well," she said, turning to him and uttering a quick sigh; "he is +off, it is a _fait accompli_. Do you know, I am relieved." + +"Are you?" he answered. He looked at her almost wistfully. He himself +was sorry for Ogilvie, he did not know why. He was, of course, aware +that he was going to Queensland to assay the Lombard Deeps, for the +talk of the great new gold mine had already reached his ears. He knew +that Ogilvie, moreover, looked pale, ill at ease, and worried. He +supposed that this uneasiness and want of alacrity in carrying a very +pleasurable business to a successful issue was caused by the man's +great attachment to his wife and child. Mrs. Ogilvie must also be +sorry when she remembered that it would be many months before she saw +him again. But there was no sorrow now in the soft eyes which met his, +nothing but a look of distinct annoyance. + +"Really," she said with an impatient movement, "I must confide in some +one, and why not in you, Mr. Rochester, as well as another? I have +already told you that my husband is absolutely silly about that +child. From her birth he has done all that man could do to spoil her." + +"But without succeeding," interrupted Jim Rochester. "I am quite +friendly with your little Sibyl now," he added, "and I never saw a +nicer little girl." + +"Oh, that is what strangers always say," replied Mrs. Ogilvie, +shrugging her shoulders, "and the child is nice, I am not denying it +for a moment, but she would be nicer if she were not simply ruined. He +wants her to live in an impossible world, without any contradictions +or even the smallest pain. You will scarcely believe it, but he would +not allow me, the other day, to tell her such a very simple, ordinary +thing as that he was going to Queensland on business, and now, in his +letter, he still begs of me to keep it a secret from her. She is not +to know anything about his absence until she returns to London, +because, forsooth, the extra week she is to spend in the country would +not do her so much good if she were fretting. Why should Sibyl fret? +Surely it is not worse for her than for me; not nearly as bad, for +that matter." + +"I am glad you feel it," said Rochester. + +"Feel it? What a strange remark! Did you think I was heartless? Of +course I feel it, but I am not going to be silly or sentimental over +the matter. Philip is a very lucky man to have this business to do. I +would not be so foolish as to keep him at home; but he is ruining that +child, ruining her. She gets more spoilt and intolerable every day." + +"Forgive me, Mrs. Ogilvie," said Lady Helen, who came upon the scene +at that moment, "I heard you talking of your little daughter. I don't +think I ever met a sweeter child." + +Mrs. Ogilvie threw up her hands in protest. + +"There you go," she said. "Mr. Rochester has been saying almost the +very same words, Lady Helen. Now let me tell you that Sibyl is not +your child; no one can be more charming to strangers." + +As Mrs. Ogilvie spoke she walked a few steps away; then she turned and +resumed her conversation. + +"The annoying part of this letter," she said, "is that Philip has +written a private communication to Sibyl, and when she hears of his +absence she is to be given this letter, and I am not even to see it. I +don't think I shall give it to her; I really must now take the +management of the child into my own hands. Her father will be +absent----Oh, there you are, Sibyl. What are you doing, loitering +about near windows? Why don't you play with your companions?" For +Sibyl had burst in by the open window, looking breathless. + +"I thought--I thought," she began; "I thought, mother, that I heard +you----" her face was strangely white, and her wide-open eyes looked +almost wild in expression. + +"It's not true, of course; but I thought I heard you say something +about father, and a--a letter I was to have in his absence. Did you +say it, mother?" + +"I said nothing of the sort," replied Mrs. Ogilvie, flushing red, and +almost pushing Sibyl from the room, "nothing of the sort; go and +play." + +Sibyl gave her an earnest and very penetrating look. She did not +glance either at Mr. Rochester or Lady Helen. + +"It's wicked for good people to tell lies, isn't it?" she said then, +slowly. + +"Wicked," cried her mother; "it's shamefully wicked." + +"And you are good, mother, you don't ever tell lies; I believe you, +mother, of course." She turned and went out of the room. As she went +slowly in the direction of the field where the other children were +taking turns to ride bareback one of the horses, her thoughts were +very puzzled. + +"I wish things would be 'splained to me," she said, half aloud, and +she pushed back her curls from her forehead. "There are more and more +things every day want 'splaining. I certainly did hear her say it. I +heard them all talking, and Lady Helen said something, and Mr. +Rochester said something, and mother said that father wished me not to +know, and I was to have a letter, and then mother said 'in his +absence.' Oh, what can it mean?" + +The other children shouted to her from the field, but she was in no +mood to join them, and just then Lord Grayleigh, who was pacing up and +down his favorite walk, called her to his side. + +"What a puzzled expression you are wearing, my little girl," he said. +"Is anything the matter?" + +Sibyl skipped up to him. Some of the cloud left her face. Perhaps he +could put things straight for her. + +"I want to ask you a question," she said. + +"You are always asking questions. Now ask me something really nice; +but first, I have something to say. I am in a very giving mood this +morning. Sometimes I am in a saving mood, and would not give so much +as a brass farthing to anybody, but I am in the other sort of mood +to-day. I am in the mood to give a little golden-haired girl +called----" + +"Sibyl," said the child, beginning to laugh; "if she is golden-haired +it must be me. What is it you want to give me?" + +Her attention was immediately arrested; her eyes shone and her lips +smiled. + +"What would you like best in the world?" + +"Oh, best in the whole world? But I cannot have that, not for a +week--we are going home this day week." + +"And what will you have when you go home?" + +"Father's kiss every night. He always comes up, Lord Grayleigh, and +tucks me in bed, and he kisses me, and we have a cozy talk. He never +misses, never, when he is at home. I am lonesome here, Lord Grayleigh, +because mother does not think it good for me that she should come; she +would if she thought it good for me." + +"Well," said Lord Grayleigh, who for some reason did not feel quite +comfortable as Sibyl talked of her father's kisses, "we must find +something for you, not quite the best thing of all. What would be the +next best?" + +"I know," said Sibyl, laughing, "a Shetland pony; oh, I do want one so +badly. Mother sometimes rides in the Park, and I do so long to go with +her, but she said we couldn't afford it. Oh, I do want a pony." + +"You shall have one," said Lord Grayleigh; "it shall be my present to +a very good, charming little girl." + +"Do you really think I am good?" + +"Good? Excellent; you are a pattern to us all." + +"Wouldn't father like to hear you. It's wonderful how he talked to me +about being good. I am not really good, you know; but I mean to try. +If you were to look into my heart, you would see--oh, but you shan't +look." She started back, clasped her hands, and laughed. "But when +father looks next, he shall see, oh, a white heart with all the +naughtiness gone." + +"Tell me exactly what sort of pony you would like," said Lord +Grayleigh, who thought it desirable to turn the conversation. + +"It must have a long mane, and not too short a tail," said Sibyl; "and +be sure you give me the very nicest, newest sort of side-saddle, same +as mother has herself, for mother's side-saddle is very comfy. Oh, and +I'd like a riding habit like mother's, too. Mother will be sure to say +she can't 'ford one for me, but you'll give me one if you give me the +pony and the side-saddle, won't you?" + +"I'll give you the pony and the side-saddle, and the habit," said Lord +Grayleigh. "I'll choose the pony to-morrow, and bring him back with +me. I am going to Lyndhurst, in the New Forest, where they are going +to have a big horse fair. You will not mind having a New Forest pony +instead of a Shetland?" + +[Illustration: "A perfect person could not tell a lie, could she?" +asked Sibyl.--Page 123. _Daddy's Girl._] + +"I don't mind what sort my darling pony is," answered the child. "I +only want to have it. Oh, you are nice. I began by not liking you, +but I like you awfully now. You are very nice, indeed." + +"And so are you. It seems to me we suit each other admirably." + +"There are lots of nice people in the world," said Sibyl. "It's a very +pleasant place. There are two quite perfect, and there are others very +nice; you and Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen. But, oh, Lord Grayleigh, I +know now what I wanted to say. A perfect person couldn't never tell a +lie, could she?" + +"Oh, it's the feminine gender," said Lord Grayleigh softly, under his +breath. + +"It's a she," said Sibyl; "could she; could she?" + +"A perfect person could not, little girl." + +"Now you have made me so happy that I am going to kiss you," said +Sibyl. She made a spring forward, flung her arms round his neck, and +kissed him twice on his rough cheek. The next instant she had vanished +out of sight and joined her companions. + +"It's all right," she said to Gus, who looked at her in some +amazement. "It's all right; I got a fright, but there wasn't a word of +it true. Come, let's play. Oh, do you know your father is going to +give me a pony? I am so happy." + +In a week's time Mrs. Ogilvie and Sibyl returned to town. Sibyl was +intensely joyful on this occasion, and confided in everyone what a +happy night she would have. + +"You don't know what father is," she said, looking full up into +Rochester's eyes. He was standing on the terrace, and the little girl +went and stood by his side. Sibyl was in her most confiding mood. She +considered Lord Grayleigh, Mr. Rochester, Lady Helen, and the children +were all her special friends. It was impossible to doubt their entire +sympathy and absolute ability to rejoice in her joy. + +"I have had a good time here," she said, "very good. Lord Grayleigh +has been nice; I began by not liking him, but I like him now, and I +like you awfully, but after all there's no place for me like my own, +own home. It's 'cos of father." + +"Yes," said Rochester. He looked anxiously, as Sibyl spoke, towards +the house. Everyone at Grayleigh Manor now knew that Sibyl was not to +be told of her father's absence during her visit. No one approved of +this course, although no one felt quite towards it with the same sense +of irritation that Mrs. Ogilvie herself did. Rochester wished at this +instant that Lord Grayleigh or someone else would appear. He wanted +anything to cause a diversion, but Sibyl, in happy ignorance of his +sentiments, talked on. + +"It is at night that my father is the most perfect of all," she said. +"I wish you could see him when he comes into my room. I am in bed, you +know, lying down flat on my back, and mostly thinking about the +angels. I do that a lot at night, I have no time in the day; I think +of the angels, and Lord Jesus Christ, and heaven, and then father +comes in. He opens the door soft, and he treads on tiptoe for fear I'm +asleep, as if I could be! And then he kisses me, and I think in the +whole of heaven there can never be an angel so good and beautiful as +he is, and he says something to me which keeps me strong until the +next night, when he says something else." + +"But your mother?" stammered Rochester. He was about to add, "She +would go to your room, would she not?" when he remembered that she +herself had told him that nothing would induce her to adopt so +pernicious a course. + +"Oh, you're thinking about my perfect mother, too," said Sibyl. "Yes, +she is perfect, but there are different sorts in the world. My own +mother thinks it is not good for me to lie awake at night and think of +the angels and wait for father. She thinks that I ought to bear the +yoke in my youth. Solomon, the wise King Solomon--you have heard of +him, haven't you?" + +Rochester nodded. + +"He wrote that verse about bearing the yoke when you are young. I +learnt it a week ago, and I felt it just 'splained about my mother. +It's really very brave of mother; but, you see, father thinks +different, and, of course, I nat'rally like father's way best. +Mother's way is the goodest for me, p'waps. Don't you think mother's +way is the goodest for me, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I dare say it is good for you, Sibyl. Now, shall we go and find Lady +Helen?" + +"Seems to me," said Sibyl, "I'm always looking for Lady Helen when I'm +with you. Is it 'cos you're so desperate fond of her?" + +"Don't you like her yourself?" said the young man, reddening visibly. + +"Like her? I like her just awfully. She's the most 'licious person to +tell stories I ever comed across in all my borned days. She tells +every sort of story about giants and fairies and adventures, and +stories of little girls just like me. Does she tell you stories about +men just like you, and is that why you like to be with her?" + +"Well, I can't honestly say that she has ever yet told me a story, but +I will ask her to do so." + +"Do," said Sibyl; "ask her to tell you a story about a man like +yourself. Make him rather pwoper and stiff and shy, and let him blush +sometimes. You do, you know you do. Maybe it will do you good to hear +about him. Now come along and let's find her." + +So Sibyl and Rochester hunted all over the place for Lady Helen, and +when they found her not, for she had gone to the nearest village on a +commission with one of the children, Rochester's face looked somewhat +grave, and his answers to the child were a little _distrait_. Sibyl +said to him in a tone of absolute sympathy and good faith-- + +"Cheer up, won't you? She is quite certain to marry you in the long +run." + +"Don't talk like that," said Rochester in a voice of pain. + +"Don't what? You do want to marry Lady Helen. I heard mother say so +yesterday. I heard her say so to Hortense. Hortense was brushing her +hair, and mother said, 'It would be a good match on the whole for Lady +Helen, 'cos she is as poor as a church mouse, and Jim Rochester has +money.' Is my darling Lady Helen as poor as a church mouse, and have +you lots of money, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I have money, but not lots. You ought not to repeat what you hear," +said the young man. + +"But why? I thought everybody knew. You are always trying to make her +marry you, I see it in your eyes; you don't know how you look when you +look at her, oh--ever so eager, same as I look when father's in the +room and he is not talking to me. I hope you will marry her, more +especial if she's as poor as a church mouse. I never knew why mice +were poor, nor why mother said it, but she did. Oh, and there is +mother, I must fly to her; good-by--good-by." + +Rochester concealed his feelings as best he could, and hurried +immediately into a distant part of the grounds, where he cogitated +over what Sibyl, in her childish, way, had revealed. + +The pony had been purchased, and Sibyl had ridden it once. It was a +bright bay with a white star on its forehead. It was a well-groomed, +well-trained little animal, and Lord Grayleigh had given Sibyl her +first riding lesson, and had shown her how to hold the reins, and how +to sit on her saddle, and the riding habit had come from town, and the +saddle was the newest and most comfortable that money could buy. + +"It is my present to you," said Lord Grayleigh, "and remember when you +ride it that you are going to be a good girl." + +"Oh dear, oh dear," said Sibyl, "I don't want _everyone_ to tell me +that I am to be a good girl. If it was father; but--don't please, Lord +Grayleigh; I'll do a badness if you talk to me any more about being so +good." + +"Well, I won't," said Lord Grayleigh, laughing. + +"I 'spect father will write you a most loving letter about this," said +Sibyl. "Won't he be 'sprised? And did you tell mother about me having +a ride every morning?" + +"I did." + +"And did you speak to her about the food for my pony all being paid +for?" + +"Yes, everything is arranged. Your pony shall be the best cared for in +all London, and you shall ride him every day for half-an-hour before +you go to school." + +"Oh, I never go to school," said Sibyl in a sorrowful voice. "I have a +Miss Winstead to teach me. She is the sort that--oh, well, no matter; +she means all right, poor thing. She wants the money, so of course she +has to stay. She doesn't suit me a bit, but she wants the money. It's +all right, isn't it?" + +"So it seems, little girl; and now here is the carriage, and the pony +has gone off to London already, and will be ready to take you on his +back to-morrow morning. Be sure you think of a nice name for him." + +"Father will tell me a name. I won't let anybody else christen my +ownest pony. Good-by, Lord Grayleigh. I like you very much. Say +good-by to Mr. Rochester for me--oh, and there is Lady Helen; +good-by, Lady Helen--good-by." + +They all kissed Sibyl when they parted from her, and everyone was +sorry at seeing the last of her bright little face, and many +conjectures went forth with regard to the trouble that was before the +child when she got to London. One and all thought that Ogilvie had +behaved cruelly, and that his wife was somewhat silly to have yielded +to him. + +Sibyl went up to town in the highest spirits. She chatted so much on +the road that her mother at last told her to hold her tongue. + +"Sit back in your seat and don't chatter," she said, "you disturb +other people." + +The other people in the carriage consisted of a very old gentleman and +a small boy of Sibyl's own age. The small boy smiled at Sibyl and she +smiled back, and if her mother had permitted it would have chatted to +him in a moment of her hopes and longings; but, when mother put on +that look, Sibyl knew that she must restrain her emotions, and she sat +back in her seat, and thought about the children who bore the yoke in +their youth, and how good it was for them, and how rapidly she was +growing into the sort of little girl her father most liked. + +"Mother," she said, as they got towards the end of the journey, "I'm +'proving, aren't I?" + +"Proving, what do you mean?" + +"_Im_proving, mother." + +"I can't say that I see it, Sibyl; you have been very troublesome for +the last few days." + +"Oh!" said the child, "oh!" + +Sibyl changed seats from the one opposite, and nestled up close to her +mother, she tucked her hand inside her arm, and then began to talk in +a loud, buzzing whisper. + +"It's 'cos of father," she said; "he begged me so earnest to be a good +girl, and I _have_ tried, _haven't_ you noticed it, mother? Won't you +tell him when we get home that I have tried?" + +"Don't worry me, Sibyl, you know my views. I want you to be just a +sensible, good child, without any of those high-flown notions. When we +return to town you must make up for your long holiday. You must do +your lessons with extreme care, and try to please Miss Winstead." + +"And to please father and Lord Jesus." + +"Yes, yes, child." + +"And to have a ride every morning on my darling pony?" + +"We will try and manage that. Lord Grayleigh has been almost silly +over that pony; I doubt whether it is wise for you to have it." + +"Oh, mother, he did say he would buy everything--the pony, the +saddle, the habit, and he would 'ford the food, too. You have not got +to pay out any money, mother, have you?" + +"Hush, don't talk so loud." + +The old gentleman buried himself in _The Times_ in order not to hear +Sibyl's distressed voice, and the little boy stared out of the window +and got very red. + +"Take up your book and stop talking," said Mrs. Ogilvie. + +Sibyl took up a book which she already knew by heart, and kept back a +sorrowful sigh. + +"But it don't matter," she said to herself; "when I see father, he'll +understand." + +They got to town, where a carriage was waiting for them. Sibyl could +scarcely restrain her eagerness. + +"Mother, may I ask John if father's likely to be at home? Sometimes he +comes home earlier than usual. P'waps he came home to lunch and is +waiting for us. Can I call out to John through the window, mother?" + +"No, sit still, you do fidget so." + +"I'll try to be quiet, mother; it's only 'cos I'm so incited." + +"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Ogilvie to herself, "what an awful evening I am +likely to have! When the silly child really finds out that her father +has gone, she will burst into hysterics, or do something else absurd. +I really wish it had been my luck to marry a husband with a grain of +sense. I wonder if I had better tell her now. No, I really cannot. +Miss Winstead must do it. Miss Winstead has been having a nice +holiday, with no fuss or worry of any sort, and it is quite fair that +she should bear the burden of this. But why it should be regarded as a +burden or a trial is a puzzle. Philip goes on a sort of pleasure +expedition to Queensland, and the affair is treated almost as if--as +if it were a death. It is positively uncanny." + +Sibyl noticed that her mother was silent, and that she looked worried. +Presently she stretched out her hand and stroked her mother's. + +"What are you doing that for?" + +"'Cos I thought I'd rub you the right way," said Sibyl. "You are like +a poor cat when it is rubbed the wrong way, aren't you, just now, +mother?" + +"Don't be so ridiculous." Mrs. Ogilvie snatched her hand away. + +They soon reached the house. The footman, Watson, sprang down and +lowered the steps. Sibyl bounded out and flew into the hall. + +"Father, father!" she called. "I'm back. Are you in, father? Here I +are--Sibyl. I'm home again, father. The Angel is home again, father." + +She did not often call herself the Angel, the name seemed to have more +or less slipped out of sight, but she did on this occasion, and she +threw back her pretty head and looked up the wide staircase, as if any +moment she might see her father hurrying down to meet her. + +Mrs. Ogilvie turned to one of the servants, who was watching the child +in astonishment. + +"She does not know yet," whispered Mrs. Ogilvie. "I am going into the +library; don't tell her anything, pray, but send Miss Winstead to me +immediately." + +Mrs. Ogilvie entered the library. Sibyl danced in after her. + +"I can't see father anywhere," she said: "I 'spect he's not back yet." + +"Of course he is not back so early. Now run upstairs and ask Nurse to +make you ready for tea. Leave me, I have something to say to Miss +Winstead." + +Miss Winstead appeared at that moment. She had enjoyed her holiday, +and looked the better for it. Though she understood Sibyl very little, +yet at this moment she gazed at the child almost with alarm, for Mrs. +Ogilvie had written to her telling her that Mr. Ogilvie's absence had +not been alluded to in the child's presence. + +Sibyl rushed to her and kissed her. + +"I am back, and I am going to be good," she said. "I really, truly am; +aren't you glad to see me?" + +"Yes, Sibyl." + +"Go upstairs now, Sibyl," said her mother. Sibyl obeyed somewhat +unwillingly, some of the laughter went out of her eyes, and a little +of the excitement faded from her heart. She went up the wide stairs +slowly, very slowly. Even now she hoped that it might be possible for +her father to appear, turning the angle of the winding stairs, coming +out of one of the rooms. He always had such a bright face, there was +an eagerness about it. He was tall and rather slender, and that bright +look in his eyes always caused the child's heart to leap; then his +mouth could wear such a beautiful smile. It did not smile for many +people, but it always did for Sibyl. She wanted to see him, oh, so +badly, so badly. + +"Well, never mind," she said to herself, "he can't help it, the +darling; but he'll be back soon," and she tripped into her nursery and +sat down; but she did not ask Nurse any questions, she was too busy +with her own thoughts. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +"Miss Winstead," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "this is all most unpleasant." + +"What do you mean?" asked the governess. + +"Why, this whim of my husband's. He has been away for over a week, and +the child imagines that he is still in London, that he will return at +any instant and spoil her, after his usual injudicious fashion." + +"Oh, I don't quite think that Mr. Ogilvie spoils your little Sibyl," +said Miss Winstead; "he has peculiar ideas, that's all." + +"We need not discuss that point," said Mrs. Ogilvie in an irritated +tone. "We are back later than I thought, and I have to dine out +to-night. I want you, Miss Winstead, to break the tidings to the child +that her father has gone to Queensland." + +"I?" said Miss Winstead; "I would really rather----" + +"I fear your likes or dislikes with regard to the matter cannot be +considered. I cannot tell her, because I should not do it properly; +and also, a more serious reason, I really have not the time. You can +give Sibyl a treat, if you like, afterwards. Take her out for a walk +in the Park after tea, she always likes that; and you can take her to +a shop and buy her a new toy--any toy she fancies. Here's a sovereign; +you can go as far as that, you ought to get her something quite +handsome for that; and you might ask the little Leicesters next door +to come to tea to-morrow. There are a hundred ways in which the mind +of a child can be diverted." + +"Not the mind of Sibyl with regard to her father," interrupted Miss +Winstead. + +"Well, for goodness' sake, don't make too much of it. You know how +peculiar he is, and how peculiar she is. Just tell her that he has +gone away for a couple of months--that he has gone on an expedition +which means money, and that _I_ am pleased about it, that he has done +it for my sake and for her sake. Tell her he'll be back before the +summer is over. You can put it any way you like, only do it, Miss +Winstead--do it!" + +"When?" asked Miss Winstead. She turned very pale, and leant one hand +on the table. + +"Oh, when you please, only don't worry me. You had better take her off +my hands at once. Just tell her that I am tired and have a headache, +and won't see her until the morning; I really must lie down, and +Hortense must bathe my forehead. If I don't I shall look a perfect +wreck to-night, and it is going to be a big dinner; I have been +anxious for some time to go. And afterwards there is a reception at +the Chinese Embassy; I am going there also. Please ask Watson, on your +way through the hall, to have tea sent to my boudoir. And now you +quite understand?" + +"But, please, say exactly what I am to tell your little girl." + +"Don't you know? Say that her father has gone--oh, by the way, there's +a letter for her. I really don't know that she ought to have it. Her +father is sure to have said something terribly injudicious, but +perhaps you had better give it to her. You might give it to her when +you are telling her, and tell her to read it by-and-by, and not to be +silly, but to be sensible. That is my message to her. Now pray go, +Miss Winstead. Are you better? Have you had a nice time while we were +away?" + +"I still suffer very badly with my head," said Miss Winstead, "but the +quiet has done me good. Yes, I will try and do my best. I saw Mr. +Ogilvie the day he left; he did not look well, and seemed sorrowful. +He asked me to be kind to Sibyl." + +"I sincerely trust you are kind to the child; if I thought you did not +treat her with sympathy and understanding I should be obliged----" + +"Oh, you need not go on," said Miss Winstead, coloring, and looking +annoyed. "I know my duty. I am not a woman with very large +sympathies, or perhaps very wide views, but I try to do my duty; I +shall certainly do my utmost for your dear little daughter. There is +something very lovable about her, although sometimes I fear I do not +quite understand her." + +"No one seems to understand Sibyl, and yet everyone thinks her +lovable," said the mother. "Well, give her my love; tell her I will +ride with her in the morning. She has had a present of a pony, quite a +ridiculous present; Lord Grayleigh was determined to give it to her. +He took an immense fancy to the child, and put the gift in such a way +that it would not have been wise to refuse. Don't forget, when you see +Watson, to tell him to bring tea to my boudoir." + +Miss Winstead slowly left the room. She was a very quiet woman, about +thirty-five years of age. She had a stolid manner, and, as she said +herself, was a little narrow and a little old-fashioned, but she was +troubled now. She did not like the task set her. As she went upstairs +she muttered a solitary word. + +"Coward!" she said, under her breath. + +"I wish I was well out of this," thought the governess. "The child is +not an ordinary one, and the love she bears her father is not an +ordinary love." + +Miss Winstead's schoolroom looked its brightest and best. The days +were growing quite long now, and flowers were plentiful. A large +basket of flowers had been sent from Grayleigh Manor that morning, and +Miss Winstead had secured some of the prettiest for her schoolroom. +She had decorated the tea-table and the mantelpiece, but with a pain +at her heart, for she was all the time wondering if Sibyl knew or did +not know. She could not quite understand from Ogilvie's manner whether +she knew or not. He was very reserved about her just at the last, he +evidently did not like to talk of her. + +Miss Winstead entered the schoolroom. She sat down for a moment near +the open window. The day was still in its prime. She looked at the +clock. The under-housemaid, who had the charge of the schoolroom tea, +now came in with the tray. She laid the cloth and spread the +tea-things. There was a plate of little queen-cakes for Sibyl. + +"Cook made these for Miss Sibyl," she said. "Does she know yet, Miss +Winstead, that the master has gone?" + +"No," said Miss Winstead; "and I have got to tell her, Anne, and it is +a task I anything but like." + +"I wouldn't be in your shoes for a deal, Miss," replied Anne, in a +sympathetic voice. + +Just then a light, childish step was heard in the passage, and Sibyl +burst into the room. + +"Here I am. Oh, I am so glad tea is ready. What's the hour, please, +Miss Winstead? How are you, Anne; is your toothache better?" + +"I have not had any toothache to mention since you left, Miss Sibyl." + +"I am glad to hear that. You used to suffer awful pain, didn't you? +Did you go to Mr. Robbs, the dentist, and did he put your head between +his knees and tug and tug to get the tooth out? That's the way Nurse's +teeth were taken out when she was a little girl. She told me all about +it. Did Mr. Robbs pull your tooth out that way, Anne?" + +"No, Miss, the tooth is better and in my head, I'm thankful to say." + +"And how is cook? How are her sneezing fits?" + +"All the servants are very well, I thank you, Miss." + +"Don't make any more enquiries now, Sibyl, sit down and begin your +tea," said her governess. + +Sibyl made an effort to suppress the words which were bubbling to her +lips. Anne had reached the door, when she burst out with-- + +"I do just want to ask one more question. How is Watson, Anne, and how +is his sweetheart? Has she been kinder to him lately?" + +"Sibyl, I refuse to allow you to ask any further questions," +interrupted Miss Winstead. She was so nervous and perplexed at the +task before her that she was glad even to be able to find fault with +the child. It was really reprehensible of any child to take an +interest in Watson's sweetheart. + +Anne, smiling however, and feeling also inclined to cry, left the +room. She ran down to the servants' hall. + +"Of all the blessed angel children, Miss Sibyl beats 'em," she cried. +"Not one of us has she forgot; dear lamb, even to my tooth and your +sneezing fits, cook; and Watson, most special did she inquire for Mary +Porter, the girl you're a-keeping company with. It's wonderful what a +tender heart she do have." + +"That she have truly," said the cook, "and I'll make her some more +queen-cakes to-morrow, and ice them for her, that I will. It's but to +look at her to see how loving she is," continued the good woman. "How +she'll live without the master beats me. The missus ain't worthy of +her." + +This remark was followed by a sort of groan which proceeded from each +servant's mouth. It was evident that Mrs. Ogilvie was not popular in +the servants' hall. + +Sibyl meanwhile was enjoying her tea. + +"It's nearly five o'clock," she said, "father is sure to be in at six, +don't you think so, Miss Winstead?" + +"He often doesn't come home till seven," answered Miss Winstead in a +guilty voice, her hand shaking as she raised the teapot. + +"Why, what's the matter with you, Winnie dear," said Sibyl--this was +her pet name for the governess; "you have got a sort of palsy, you +ought to see a doctor. I asked Nurse what palsy was, and she said 'a +shaking,' and you are all shaking. How funny the teapot looks when +your hand is bobbing so. Do, Winnie, let me pour out tea." + +"Not to-night. I was thinking that after tea you and I might go for a +little walk." + +"Oh, I couldn't, really, truly; I must wait in till father comes." + +"It is such a fine evening, that perhaps----" + +"No, no, I don't want to go." + +"But your mother has given me money; you are to buy anything you +please at the toy-shop." + +This was a very great temptation, for Sibyl adored toys. + +"How much money?" she asked in a tentative voice. + +"Well, a good deal, a whole sovereign." + +"Twenty shillings," said Sibyl, "I could get a lovely doll's house for +that. But I think sometimes I am getting tired of my dolls. It's so +stupid of 'em not to talk, and never to cry, and not to feel pain or +love. But, on the whole, I suppose I should like a new doll's house, +and there was a beauty at the toy-shop for twenty shillings. It was +there at Christmas-time. I expect it's a little dusty now, but I dare +say Mr. Holman would let me have it cheap. I am _very_ fond of Mr. +Holman, aren't you, Winnie? Don't you love him very, very much? He has +such kind, sorrowful eyes. Don't you like him?" + +"I don't know that I do, Sibyl. Come, finish your tea, my dear." + +"Have you been trying to 'prove yourself very much while I was away?" +said Sibyl, looking at her now in a puzzled way. + +"Prove myself?" + +"I can never say that whole word. _Im_prove is what I mean. Have you +been trying?" + +"I always try, Sibyl." + +"Then I think Lord Jesus is helping you, for you _are_ 'proved, you're +quite sympathisy. I like you when you're sympathisy. Yes, I have +finished my tea, and, if you wish it, I'll go out just as far as Mr. +Holman's to buy the doll's house. He is poor, and he'll be real glad +to sell it. He has often told me how little money he makes by the +toys, and how they lose their freshness and get dusty, and children +toss 'em. Some children are _so_ careless. Yes, I'll go with you, +and then we'll come straight home. Father will be back certain +to-night at six. He'll know that I'll be wanting him." + +"Sibyl, I have something to tell you." + +"What?" + +There was a tremulous note in Miss Winstead's voice which arrested the +gay, careless chatter. The child looked at her governess. That deep, +comprehensive, strange look visited her eyes. Miss Winstead got up +hastily and walked to the window, then she returned to her seat. + +"What is it?" said Sibyl, still seated at the tea-table, but turning +round and watching her governess. + +"It is something that will pain you, dear." + +"Oh!" said Sibyl, "go on, please. Out with it! plump it out! as Gus +would say. Be quick. I don't like to be kept in 'spense." + +"I am afraid, Sibyl, that you will not see your father to-night." + +Sibyl jumped up just as if someone had shot her. She stood quite still +for a moment, and a shiver went through her little frame; then she +went up to Miss Winstead. + +"I can bear it," she said; "go on. Shall I see father to-morrow?" + +"Not to-morrow, nor the next day, nor the next." + +"Go on; I am bearing it," said Sibyl. + +She stood absolutely upright, white as a sheet, her eyes queerly +dilated, but her lips firm. + +"It's a great shock, but I am bearing it," she said again. "_When_ +will I see him?" + +Miss Winstead turned now and looked at her. + +"Child," she said, "don't look like that." + +"I'm looking no special way; I'm only bearing up. Is father dead?" + +"No; no, my dear. No, my poor little darling. Oh, you ought to have +been told; but he did not wish it. It was his wish that you should +have a happy time in the country. He has gone to Queensland; he will +be back in a few months." + +"A few months," said Sibyl. "He's not dead?" She sat down listlessly +on the window seat. She heaved a great sigh. + +"It's the little shots that hurt most," she said after a pause. "I +wouldn't have felt it, if you had said he was dead." + +"Come out, Sibyl, you know now he won't be back by six." + +"Yes, I'll go out with you." + +She turned and walked very gravely out of the room. + +"I'd rather she cried and screamed; I'd rather she rushed at me and +tried to hurt me; I'd rather she did anything than take it like that," +thought the governess. + +Sibyl went straight into the nursery. + +"Nursie," she said, "my father has gone. He is in Queensland; he did +not wish me to be told, but I have been told now. He is coming back in +a few months. A few months is like for ever, isn't it, nursie? I am +going out with Miss Winstead for a walk." + +"Oh, my darling," said nursie, "this has hurt you horribly." + +"Don't," said Sibyl, "don't be sympathisy." She pushed nurse's +detaining hand away. + +"It's the little shots that tell," she repeated. "I wouldn't have felt +anything if it had been a big, big bang; if he had been dead, I mean, +but I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to let anybody think that I +care anything at all. Give me my hat and gloves and jacket, please, +nurse." + +She went to Miss Winstead, put her hand in hers, and the two went +downstairs. When they got into the street Sibyl looked full at her, +and asked her one question. + +"Was it mother said you was to tell me?" + +"Yes." + +"Then mother did tell me a----" Sibyl left off abruptly, her poor +little face quivered. The suffering in her eyes was so keen that Miss +Winstead did not dare to meet them. They went for a walk in the park, +and Sibyl talked in her most proper style, but she did not say any of +the nice, queer, interesting things she was, as a rule, noted for. +Instead, she told Miss Winstead dry, uninteresting little facts, with +regard to her visit to the country. + +"I hear you have got a pony," said Miss Winstead. + +"I don't want to talk about my pony, please," interrupted Sibyl. "Let +me tell you just what were the most perfect views near the place we +were in." + +"But why may we not talk about your pony?" + +"I don't want to ride my pony now." + +Miss Winstead was alarmed about the child. + +"You have walked quite far enough to-night," she said, "you look very +white." + +"I'm not a scrap tired, I never felt better in my life. Do let us go +to the toy-shop." + +"A good idea," said the governess, much cheered to find Sibyl, in her +opinion, human after all. "We will certainly go there and will choose +a beautiful toy." + +"Well, this is the turning, come along," said Sibyl. + +"But why should we go to Holman's, there is a splendid toy-shop in +this street." + +"I'd much rather go to Mr. Holman's." + +Miss Winstead did not expostulate any further. Presently they reached +the shabby little shop. Mr. Holman, the owner of the shop, was a +special friend of the child's. He had once or twice, charmed by her +sympathetic way, confided some of his griefs to her. He found it, he +told her, extremely difficult to make the toy-shop pay; and Sibyl, in +consequence, considered it her bounden duty to spend every half-penny +she could spare at this special shop. She entered now, went straight +up to the counter and held out her hand. + +"How do you do, Mr. Holman," she said; "I hope I find you quite well." + +"Thank you, Missy; I am in the enjoyment of good health," replied the +shopman, flushing with pleasure and grasping the little hand. + +"I am glad of that," answered Sibyl. "I have come, Mr. Holman, to buy +a big thing, it will do your shop a lot of good. I am going to spend +twenty shillings in your shop. What would you like me to buy?" + +"You thought a doll's house," interrupted Miss Winstead, who stood +behind the child. + +"Oh, it don't matter about that," said Sibyl, looking gravely back at +her; "I mean it don't matter now. Mr. Holman, what's the most dusty of +your toys, what's the most scratched, what's the toy that none of the +other children would like?" + +"I have a whole heap of 'em," said Holman, shaking his head sadly. + +"That he have, poor dear," here interrupted Mrs. Holman. "How do you +do, Missy, we are both glad to see you back again; we have had a dull +season, very dull, and the children, they didn't buy half the toys +they ought to at Christmas time. It's because our shop is in a back +street." + +"Oh, but it's a very nice street," said Sibyl; "it's retired, isn't +it? Well, I'll buy twenty shillings' worth of the most dusty of the +toys, and please send them home to-morrow. Please, Miss Winstead, put +the money down." + +Miss Winstead laid a sovereign on the counter. + +"Good-by, Mr. Holman; good-by, Mrs. Holman," said Sibyl. She shook +hands solemnly with the old pair, and then went out of the shop. + +"What ails her?" said Holman. "She looks as if something had died +inside her. I don't like her looks a bit." + +Mrs. Ogilvie enjoyed herself very much that evening. Her friends were +glad to see her back. They were full of just the pleasant sympathy +which she liked best to receive. She must be lonely without her +husband. When would he return? When she said in a few months' time, +they congratulated her, and asked her how she had enjoyed herself at +Grayleigh Manor. In short, there was that sort of fuss made about her +which most appealed to her fancy. She forgot all about Sibyl. She +looked at other women of her acquaintance, and thought that when her +husband came home she would wear just as dazzling gems and just as +beautiful dresses, and she, too, might talk about her country place, +and invite her friends down to this rural retreat at Whitsuntide, and +make up a nice house-party in the autumn, and again in the winter. Oh, +yes, the world with its fascinations was stealing more and more into +her heart, and she had no room for the best of all. She forgot her +lonely child during these hours. + +Mrs. Ogilvie returned from a fashionable reception between twelve and +one in the morning. Hortense was up and tired. She could scarcely +conceal her yawns as she unstitched the diamonds which she had sewn on +her mistress's dress earlier in the evening, and put away the +different jewels. At last, however, her duties were over, and she went +away to her room. + +Mrs. Ogilvie got into bed, and closing her eyes, prepared to doze off +into delicious slumber. She was pleasantly tired, and no more. As she +sank into repose, the house in the country and the guests who would +fill it mingled with her dreams. Suddenly she heard a clear voice in +her ears. It awoke her with a sort of shock. She raised herself on her +elbow, and saw her little daughter standing in her white nightdress by +the bedside. + +"Mother," said Sibyl. + +"What are you doing there, Sibyl? Go back to bed directly." + +"Please, mother, I can't sleep. I have got a sort of up-and-down and +round-and-round feeling. I don't know what it is, but it's worse when +I put my head on my pillow. I 'spect I'm lonesome, mother. Mother, I +really, truly, am going to be sensible, and I know all about father; +but may I get into your bed just at the other side. I will lie as +still as a mouse; may I, mother?" + +"Oh dear, how you tremble," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "how more than annoying +this is! You certainly are not a sensible child at the present moment. +If you felt so strange and nervous, why didn't you ask Nurse or Miss +Winstead to sleep in the room with you?" + +"But, mother, that wouldn't have done me any good." + +"What do you mean?" + +"They wouldn't be you. I'll be quite happy if I can get into bed +alongside of you, mother." + +"Of course you may, child, but please don't disturb me. I am very +tired, and want to sleep." + +Sibyl ran round to the other side of the bed, slipped in, and lay as +quiet as a mouse. + +Mrs. Ogilvie curled up comfortably, arranged her pillows, and closed +her eyes. She was very sleepy, but what was the matter with her? She +could not lose herself in unconsciousness. Was the perfectly still +little figure by her side exercising some queer power over her, +drawing something not often stirred within her heart to the surface? +She turned at last and looked at the child. Sibyl was lying on her +back with her eyes wide open. + +"Why don't you shut your eyes and go to sleep?" asked her mother. + +"I can't, on account of the round-and-roundness feeling," replied +Sibyl. + +"What a funny little thing you are. Here, give me your hand." + +Mrs. Ogilvie stretched out her own warm hand and took one of Sibyl's. +Sibyl's little hand was cold. + +"May I come quite close to you, mother?" asked Sibyl. + +"Yes, darling." + +The next instant she was lying in her mother's arms. Her mother +clasped her close to her breast and kissed her many times. + +"Oh, now that's better," said the child with a sob. It was the first +attempt at a sob which had come from her lips. She nestled cosily +within her mother's clasp. + +"I am much better," she said; "I didn't understand, but I understand +now. I got his letter." + +"Must we talk about it to-night, Sibyl?" asked her mother. + +"Not much; there's not much to say, is there? He said I was to be good +and to obey you. I was to be good all the time. It's very hard, but I +'spect I'll do it; I 'spect Lord Jesus will help me. Mother, why has +father gone to Queensland? It's such a long, long way off." + +"For a most excellent reason," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "You really are +showing a great deal of sense, Sibyl. I never knew you more sensible +about anything. I was afraid you would cry and make scenes and be +naughty, and make yourself quite ill; that would have been a most +silly, affected sort of thing to do. Your father has gone away just on +a visit--we will call it that. He will be back before the summer is +over, and when he comes back he will bring us----" + +"What?" asked the child. "What has he gone for?" + +"My dear child, he has gone on most important business. He will bring +us back a great deal of _money_, Sibyl. You are too young yet to +understand about money." + +"No, I am not," said Sibyl. "I know that when people have not much +money they are sorrowful. Poor Mr. Holman is." + +"Who in the world is Mr. Holman?" + +"He sells the toys in the back street near our house. I am very much +obliged to you, mother, for that sovereign. Mr. Holman is going to +send me some dusty toys to-morrow." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I can't 'splain, Mr. Holman understands. But, mother, I thought we +had plenty of money." + +"Plenty of money," echoed Mrs. Ogilvie; "that shows what a very silly +little child you are. We have nothing like enough. When your father +comes back we'll be rich." + +"Rich?" said Sibyl, "rich?" She did not say another word for a long +time. Her mother really thought she had dropped asleep. In about half +an hour, however, Sibyl spoke. + +"Is it nice, being rich?" she asked. + +"Of course it is." + +"But what does it do?" + +"Do? It does everything. It gives you all your pretty frocks." + +"But I am more comfy in my common frocks." + +"Well, it gives you your nice food." + +"I don't care nothing about food." + +"It gives you your comfortable home, your pony, and----" + +"Lord Grayleigh gave me my pony." + +"Child, I cannot explain. It makes all the difference between comfort +and discomfort, between sorrow and happiness." + +"Do you think so?" said Sibyl. "And father has gone away to give me a +nice house, and pretty clothes, and all the other things between being +comfy and discomfy; and you want to be rich very much, do you, +mother?" + +"Very much indeed; I like the good things of life." + +"I'll try and understand," said Sibyl. She turned wearily on her +pillow, and the next instant sleep had visited the perplexed little +brain. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +"Nursie," said Sibyl, two months after the events related in the last +chapter, "mother says that when my ownest father comes back again +we'll be very rich." + +"Um," replied nurse, with a grunt, "do she?" + +"Why do you speak in that sort of voice, nursie? It's very nice to be +rich. I have been having long talks with mother, and she has 'splained +things. It means a great deal to be rich. I am so glad that my father +is coming back a very, very rich man. I didn't understand at first. I +thought to be rich just meant to have lots of money, and big, big +houses, and heaps of bags of sweeties, and toys and ponies, and, oh, +the kind of things that don't matter a bit. But now I know what to be +rich really is." + +"Yes, dear," said nurse. She was seated in the old nursery close to +the window. She was mending some of Sibyl's stockings. A little pile +of neatly mended pairs lay on the table, and there was a frock which +also wanted a darn reclining on the back of the old woman's chair. +Sibyl broke off and watched her nurse's movements with close interest. + +"Why do you wear spectacles?" she asked suddenly. + +"Because, my love, my sight is failing. I ain't as young as I was." + +"What does 'not as young as you was' mean?" + +"What I say, my dear." + +"I notice," said Sibyl, thoughtfully, "that all very, very old people +say they're not as young as they was, and so you wear spectacles 'cos +you're not as young as you was, and 'cos you can't see as well as you +did." + +"That's about it, Missy, and when I have to darn the stockings of a +naughty little Miss, and to mend holes in her dress, I have to put on +my glasses." + +"Then I'm glad we're going to be rich; it will be quite easy to +'splain why I am glad," continued Sibyl, thoughtfully. "When our gold +comes, nursie, you'll never have to do no more darning, and you need +never wear your glasses 'cept just to read lovely books. Oh, we'll do +such a lot when we are rich. There's poor Mr. Holman: I was talking to +him only yesterday. Do you know, nursie, his shop isn't paying, not a +bit, and he was, oh, so sad about it, and Mrs. Holman began to cry. +She told me there's a new big toy-shop in Palace Road, a great big +lovely _swampy_ sort of shop. I mean by that, that it takes all the +customers. They go in there and they spend their money, and there's +none left for poor Mr. Holman. It's just 'cos he lives in Greek +Street, and Greek Street is what is called a back street. Isn't it +perfectly shameful, nursie? Mr. Holman said if they could afford to +have a shop in Palace Road he would get all the little boys and girls +back again. But they won't come into his nice, quiet _back_ street. I +like back streets, don't you, nursie? It's horrid of the boys and +girls not to go to Mr. Holman's." + +"It's the way of the world, dear," answered nurse; "the world always +goes with the prosperous people. Them that are struggling the world +leaves behind. It's a cruel way, but it's the way the world has got." + +"Then I hate the world," said Sibyl. "My beautiful Lord Jesus wouldn't +allow it if He was on earth now, would He, nursie?" + +"Oh, my love, there'd be a lot of things _He'd_ have to change if He +came back; but don't ask me any more questions now, Missy. You go out +with your governess. You don't get half enough of the air, to my way +of thinking; you're looking peaky, and not what the master would like +to see." + +"But I am perfectly well," answered Sibyl, "I never felt better in all +my borned days. You know, nursie, I have got a lot to do now. Father +gave me 'rections in that letter that nobody else is to see, and one +of them was that I was to keep well, so I'll go for a walk if you +think it will be good for me; only I just wish to say that when father +comes back dear Mr. Holman shall have his shop in Palace Road, and a +lot of fresh toys put in it, and then he'll be quite happy and +smiling, and his shop will swamp up all the children, and all the +pennies and all the half-pennies and sixpennies, and poor, dear, +darling Mrs. Holman won't have to wipe away her tears any more." + +Sibyl skipped out of the room, and nurse said several times under her +breath-- + +"Bless her! the darling she is!" + +Smartly dressed, as was her mother's wish, the little girl now ran +downstairs. Miss Winstead was not ready. Sibyl waited for her in the +hall. She felt elated and pleased, and just at that moment a servant +crossed the spacious hall, and opened the hall door. Standing on the +steps was Mr. Rochester. Sibyl uttered a great whoop when she saw him, +rushed forward, and seized him by the hand. + +"Oh, I am glad to see you," she said. "Have you come to see me, or to +see mother?" + +"I am very glad to see you," replied the young man; "but I did call to +see your mother." + +"Well, come to the drawing-room, I'll entertain you till mother +comes. Go upstairs, please, Watson, and tell mother that Mr. Rochester +is here. Be sure you say Mr. Rochester--_nice_ Mr. Rochester." + +Watson smiled, as he often did when Sibyl addressed him, and nice Mr. +Rochester and the little girl disappeared into the drawing-room. + +Sibyl shut the door, took his hand, and looked earnestly into his +face. + +"Well?" she said. + +"Why do you say that?" he asked, in some confusion. + +"I was only wondering if Lady Helen had done it." + +"Really, Sibyl, you say very queer things," answered Rochester. He sat +down on a chair. + +"Oh, you know you are awfully fond of her, and you want her to marry +you, and I want her to marry you because I like you. You are very +nice, very nice indeed, and you are rich, you know. Mother has been +'splaining to me about rich people. It's most 'portant that everybody +should be rich, isn't it, Mr. Rochester? It's the only way to be +truly, truly happy, isn't it?" + +"That it is not, Sibyl. Who has been putting such an idea into your +head?" + +Sibyl looked at him, and was about to say, "Why, mother," but she +checked herself. A cloud took some of the brightness out of her eyes. +She looked puzzled for a moment, then she laughed. + +"When my own father comes back again we'll all be rich people. I hope +when you are very, very rich you'll make," she said, "dear Lady Helen +happy. I am very glad, now, my father went to Australia. It gave me +dreadful pain at the time, but when he comes back we'll all be rich. +What has he gone about; do you know, Mr. Rochester?" + +"Something about a gold mine. Your father is a great engineer, and his +opinion with regard to the mine will be of the utmost value. If he +says it is a good mine, with a lot of gold in it, then the British +public will buy shares. They will buy shares as fast as ever they +can." + +"What are shares?" asked Sibyl. + +"It is difficult to explain. Shares mean a little bit of the gold out +of the mine, and these people will buy them in order to become rich." + +"It's very puzzling," said Sibyl. "And it depends on father?" + +"Yes, because if he says there is not much gold in the mine, then no +one will buy shares. Don't you understand, it all depends on him." + +"It's _very_ puzzling," said Sibyl again. "Are you going to buy +shares, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I think so," he answered earnestly. "I shall buy several shares, I +think, and if I do I shall be rich enough to ask Lady Helen to marry +me." + +"And you will be happy?" + +"Very happy if she says 'yes.' But, Sibyl, this is a great secret +between you and me, you must never tell it to anyone else." + +"You may trust me," said Sibyl, "I never tell things I'm told not to +tell. You can't think what wonderful 'portant things father has told +me, and I never, never speak of them again. Then you'll be glad to be +rich?" + +"Yes, because I shall be happy if Lady Helen is my wife," he answered, +and just then Mrs. Ogilvie came into the room. + +Sibyl and Miss Winstead went out for their daily exercise. Sibyl had +already ridden the pony in the morning. It was a nameless pony. +Nothing would induce her to give it a title. + +"When father comes back he'll christen my pony," she said, "but no one +else shall. I won't give it no name till he comes back." + +She enjoyed her rides on the brisk little pony's back. She was rapidly +becoming a good horsewoman. When her mother did not accompany her the +redoubtable Watson followed his little mistress, and the exercise did +the child good, and helped to bring a faint color to her cheeks. + +Now she and Miss Winstead walked slowly down the shady side of the +street. Sibyl was pondering over many things. + +"It is very hot this morning," said the governess. + +"Oh, that don't matter," replied Sibyl. "Miss Winstead, is your head +sometimes so full that it seems as if it would burst?" + +"No," answered Miss Winstead, "I cannot say it is." + +"Full of thoughts, you know." + +"No," replied the governess again. "Don't turn in your toes, Sibyl, +walk straight, turn your toes out a little, so; keep step with me. +Little ladies ought to walk properly." + +Sibyl took great pains to follow Miss Winstead's instructions. She was +always taking great pains now. A wonderful lot of her naughtiness and +daringness had left her. She was trying to be good. It was extremely +irksome, but when she succeeded she felt a great glow of pleasure, for +she believed herself near to her father. + +"Miss Winstead," she said suddenly, "I have been thinking of +something. It is most terribly 'portant. Would you greatly mind if we +went to see the Holmans before we go back?" + +"We shan't have time," replied Miss Winstead. + +"Oh, but I want to go," said Sibyl, knitting her brows, "don't let us +go into the stupid Park, do come to the Holmans." + +"I cannot do it, Sibyl, it is impossible. We must be back rather early +for lunch to-day, as your mother is going into the country this +afternoon." + +"Mother going into the country, what for?" + +"I cannot tell you, it is not my affair." + +"That means that you know, but you won't tell." + +"You can put it in that way if you like. I won't tell. Now come into +the Park, we can sit on one of the chairs under the trees and keep +cool." + +Sibyl obeyed unwillingly. She felt, as she said afterwards, as if Miss +Winstead had rubbed her the wrong way. + +"I am like a pussy-cat when its fur is rubbed quite the wrong side +up," thought the little girl. "I don't like it, not a bit." + +Presently she slipped her hand through her governess's arm, and said +in a coaxing voice-- + +"Do come home through Greek Street; I do want just to say one word to +Mr. Holman, you can't think how 'portant it is." + +"I cannot, Sibyl; you must not ask me again." Here Miss Winstead took +out her watch. + +"We must hurry home," she said; "I had not the least idea the time was +going so fast." + +They left the Park, and came back in time for lunch. During lunch +both Mrs. Ogilvie and her little daughter were very silent. Sibyl was +thinking of the Holmans, and how more than important it was that she +should see them soon, and Mrs. Ogilvie had another thought in her +head, a thought which caused her eyes to dance with pleasure. + +"Why isn't Mr. Rochester here?" said the little girl at last. + +"He could not stay," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "You and he are great +friends, are you not, Sib?" + +"He is nice, he is very nice," said the child; "he and Lady Helen--oh, +more than nice. I like 'em very much, don't you, mother?" + +"Yes, dear." Mrs. Ogilvie got up. "Good-by, Sibyl, I shall be back +late this evening." + +"Good-by, mother dear." + +Mrs. Ogilvie left the room. Miss Winstead, having finished her lunch, +desired Sibyl to be quick with hers, and then to follow her to the +schoolroom. There was no one in the room now but Sibyl and the +footman, Watson. Watson began to remove the things. Sibyl played with +a biscuit. Suddenly she looked full up at the young man. + +"Are you tired after your ride this morning Watson?" + +"No, Miss Sibyl, not at all." + +"I wonder if you're awfully hungry, Watson?" + +"Why so, Miss?" + +"Because it's time for the servants' dinner." + +"Well, Miss, I'm going down to the hall presently, when I shall have +my appetite satisfied, thank you all the same for inquiring." + +Watson greatly enjoyed having a private chat with Sibyl. + +"You couldn't, p'waps," said the little girl, knitting her brows, "you +couldn't, p'waps, come a short way down the street with me afore you +begin your dinner?" + +"Where do you want to go, Miss?" + +"I want to see Mr. Holman; you know Mr. Holman, don't you, Watson? He +is the dear, kind, nice, sorrowful man who keeps the dusty toys." + +"I have heard of him from you, Miss." + +"It's most 'portant that I should see him and his wife, and if you +walked behind me, mother would not be very angry. Would you come, +Watson? You might just put on your hat and come at once. I have not +taken off my hat and coat. We can do it and be back afore Miss +Winstead finds out." + +Watson looked out of the window. He saw Mrs Ogilvie at that moment go +down the steps, closing the door behind her. She walked away in the +direction of the nearest railway station. She held a dainty parasol +over her head. He turned to where the eager little face of Sibyl was +watching him. + +"If you're very quick, Miss," he said, "I'll do it." + +"You are good," said Sibyl. "Do you know, Watson, that you're a very +nice man--you have very good impulses, I mean. I heard father once say +of a man who dined here that he had good impulses, and I think he had +a look of you; and you have very good impulses, too. Now let's go; do +let's be quick." + +A moment later the footman and the child were in the street. Sibyl +walked on in front, and Watson a couple of feet behind her. Holman's +shop was fortunately not far off, and they soon entered it. + +"Watson," said the little girl, "you can stand in the doorway. It's +very private, what I has to say to the Holmans; you must on no account +listen." + +"No, Miss, I won't." + +Sibyl now entered the shop. Mrs. Holman was alone there. She was +attending in the shop while her husband was eating his dinner. She +looked very sad, and, as Sibyl expressed it afterwards, rusty. There +were days when Mrs. Holman did present that appearance--when her cap +seemed to want dusting and her collar to want freshness. Her black +dress, too, looked a little worn. Sibyl was very, very sorry for her +when she saw her in this dress. + +"Dear! dear!" she said; "I am glad I came. You look as if you wanted +cheering up. Mrs. Holman, I've splendid news for you." + +"What is that, my dear little lady? That you have got money to buy +another toy? But Mr. Holman said only as late as last night that he +wouldn't send you another worn-out toy not for nobody. 'Tain't fair, +my love. It seems like playing on your generosity, my dear." + +"But I like them," said the child; "I do really, truly. I paint them +up with the paints in my paint-box and make them look as good as new. +They are much more interesting than perfect toys, they are truly." + +"Well, dear, your mother would not like it if she know we treated you +in what my husband says is a shabby way." + +"Don't think any more about that now, Mrs. Holman. You both treat me +as I love to be treated--as though I were your little friend." + +"Which you are, darling--which you are." + +"Well, Mrs. Holman, I must hurry; I must tell you my good news. Do you +remember telling me last week that you had a hundred pounds put away +in the Savings Bank, and that you didn't know what to do with it. You +said, 'Money ought to make money,' and you didn't know how your +hundred pounds would make money. It was such a funny speech, and you +tried to 'splain it to me, and I tried to understand." + +"It was silly of my husband and me to talk of it before you, Missy. It +is true we have got a hundred pounds. It is a nest-egg against a rainy +day." + +"Now again you are talking funnily; a nest-egg against a rainy day?" + +"Against a time of trouble when we may want to spend the money." + +"Oh, I understand that," answered the child. + +"And I had it well invested, but the money was paid back, and there +was nothing for it but to pop it into the Post Office Savings Bank." + +"It's there still, is it?" said Sibyl, her eyes shining. + +"Yes, dear." + +"Well, now, what do you say to buying bits of gold with it?" + +"Bits of gold with our hundred pounds?" said Mrs. Holman, staring at +Sibyl. + +"Yes, that is exactly what I mean; bits of gold. You will be able to +if you keep it long enough. If you promise to keep that money safe you +may be able to buy great lumps of gold out of my father's gold mine. +My father has gone to Australia to----Oh, I must not tell you, for it +really is an awful, awful secret; but, anyhow, when he comes back +you'll be able to make a lot of money out of your money, to buy heaps +of bits of gold. Will you promise to keep that hundred pounds till +father comes home? That's what I came about, to ask you to promise, +and Watson came with me because Miss Winstead wouldn't. Will you +promise, dear Mrs. Holman?" + +"Bless you, darling," said Mrs. Holman, "so that is why your father +has gone away. It do sound exciting." + +"It's awfully exciting, isn't it? We shall all be so rich. Mother said +so, and mother ought to know. You'll be rich, and I'll be rich, and +dear, dear nursie will be rich, and even Watson. Watson has got such +good impulses. He'll be rich, too, and he shall marry the girl he is +fond of; and there is a friend of mine, he wants to marry another +girl, and they shall be rich and they shall marry. Oh, nobody need be +sorrowful any more. Everybody will be quite happy when father comes +back. You'll be able to have your shop in Palace Road, and oh, be sure +you keep that hundred pounds till then." + +Sibyl did not wait for Mrs. Holman to make any further remark. Mrs. +Holman's eyes looked bright and excited; the child dashed out of the +shop. + +"Come, Watson," she said, "you'll have a splendid appetite for your +dinner, and you have done a very good deed. You have denied yourself, +Watson, and made a sorrowful woman happy. What do you think of that?" + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +About this time Mrs. Ogilvie was subjected to a somewhat severe form +of temptation. It had been one of the biggest dreams of her life to +possess a country place. She had never been satisfied with the fact +that she and her husband must live in town except when they went to +lodgings at the seaside, or were on visits to their friends. She +wanted to have their own country place to go to just when she pleased, +a place where she could invite her friends whenever the whim seized +her. In an evil moment, almost immediately after Ogilvie had gone to +Australia, she had visited a house agent and told him some of her +desires. + +"My husband is not prepared to buy a place now," she said in +conclusion, "but he soon will be in a position to do so, and I want +you to look round for me and tell me if anything nice happens to come +into the market." + +The agent had replied that he would be sure to let his client know if +anything suitable came his way. Very soon places, apparently quite to +Mrs. Ogilvie's heart, did come in the agent's way, and then somehow, +in some fashion, other house agents got wind of Mrs. Ogilvie's +desire, and now scarcely a post came that did not bring her most +tempting prospectuses with regard to country places. There was one in +particular which so exactly pleased her that she became quite +_distrait_ and restless except when she was talking of it. She went to +see this special place several times. It was on the Thames just above +Richmond. The grounds sloped down to the water. The house itself was +built in a low, rambling, eccentric fashion. It covered a considerable +extent of ground; there were several gardens, and they were all nicely +kept and were bright with flowers, and had many overhanging trees. The +house itself, too, had every modern comfort. There were many bedrooms +and several fine reception rooms, and there were tennis and croquet +lawns in the grounds, all smooth as velvet and perfectly level. There +were also kitchen-gardens, and some acres of land, as yet undevoted to +any special purpose, at the back of the house. It was just the sort of +place which a man who was in a nice position in society might be glad +to own. Its late owner had given it the somewhat eccentric title of +Silverbel, and certainly the place was as bright and charming as its +name. + +This desirable little property was to be obtained, with its +surrounding acres, for the modest sum of twenty thousand pounds, and +Mrs. Ogilvie was so fascinated by the thought of being mistress of +Silverbel, on the lovely winding River Thames, that she wrote to her +husband on the subject. + +"It is the very best place of its kind in the market," she wrote. "It +was sold to its present owner for thirty thousand pounds, but he is +obliged to live abroad and is anxious to sell it, and would give it +for twenty thousand. I want you, when you receive this, to wire to me +to carry on negotiations in your absence. I have already consulted our +lawyer, Mr. Acland. He says the house is drained, and the air of the +place would be just the kind to suit Sibyl. She would enjoy so much +her row on the river, and all our friends would like it. With the +money you must now have at your disposal you can surely gratify me +with regard to Silverbel." + +Mrs. Ogilvie had, of course, not yet received any answer to her +letter, but she visited Silverbel twice a week, and took Sibyl also to +see the beautiful place. + +"It will be yours when father comes home," she said to the child. + +Sibyl skipped about madly. + +"It's just too 'licious!" she said. "Is this one of the things God +gives us because we are rich? Isn't it kind of Lord Jesus to make us +rich? Don't you love Him very, very much, mother?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie always turned aside when Sibyl spoke to her about her +love for the Lord Jesus. Not that she considered herself by any means +an irreligious woman. She went to church always once, and sometimes +twice on Sunday. She subscribed to any number of charities, and as the +little girl now spoke her eyes became full of a soft light. + +"We can have a bazaar here," she said, "a bazaar for the Home for +Incurables at Watleigh. Lady Severn was talking to me about it last +night, and said how terribly it needed funds. Sibyl, when father comes +back we will have a great big bazaar here at lovely Silverbel, and a +marquee on the lawn, and we will ask all the most charitable people in +London to take stalls; some of the big-wigs, you know." + +"Big-wigs?" said Sibyl, "what are they?" + +"People, my dear child, who are high up in the social scale." + +"I don't understand, mother," answered Sibyl. "Oh, do look at this +rose, did you ever see such a perfect beauty? May I pick it, mother? +It is just perfect, isn't it, not quite full out and yet not a bud. +I'd like very much to send it to my ownest father." + +"Silly child! Yes, of course you may pick it, but it will be dead long +before it reaches him." + +"It's heart won't be dead," said Sibyl. She did not know why she made +the latter remark. She often did say things which she but half +understood. She carefully picked the rose and fastened it into the +front of her white dress. When she returned to town that evening she +put the rose in water and looked at it with affectionate interest. + +"What a pretty flower! Where did my darling get it?" said nurse. + +"At Silverbel, the beautiful, beautiful place that father is going to +buy when he is rich. You can't think how good mother is growing, +nursie; she is getting better and better every day." + +"H'm!" said nurse. + +"Why do you make those sort of noises when I speak of my mother? I +don't like it," said the child. "But I must tell you about Silverbel. +Mother says it is practicalically ours now. I don't quite know what +she means by practicalically, but I suppose she means that it is +almost our place. Anyhow, when my dearest rich father comes back it +will be ours, and we are going to make poor Mr. Holman quite rich, and +you, darling nursie, quite rich, and--and others quite rich. We are +going to have a great big bazaar at Silverbel, and the _big-wigs_ are +coming to it. Isn't it a funny word! perhaps you don't know what +big-wigs are, but I do." + +Nurse laughed. + +"Eat your supper and go to bed, Miss Sibyl. You are staying up a great +deal too late, and you are learning things you had better know nothing +about." + +Meanwhile Mrs. Ogilvie downstairs was having a consultation with her +lawyer. + +"I don't want to lose the place," she said. "My husband is safe to be +satisfied with my decision." + +"If you have really made up your mind to pay twenty thousand pounds +for the place, and I cannot say that I think it at all dear," replied +the lawyer, "I have no objection to lending you a couple of thousand +pounds to pay a deposit. You need not complete the purchase for at +least three months, and I have not the slightest doubt I can further +arrange that you may go into possession, say--well, any time you like +after the deposit money is paid." + +"Can you really?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, her eyes growing dark and almost +passionate in their eagerness. + +"At the worst it could be taken off your hands," he answered; "but +doubtless, from what you tell me, Ogilvie will be well able to +complete the thing; only remember, pray remember, Mrs. Ogilvie, that +this is rather a big matter, and if by any chance your husband does +not find the Lombard Deeps all that Lord Grayleigh expects"--he paused +and looked thoughtful. "I can lend you the money if you wish it," he +said then abruptly. + +"The money to enable me to pay a deposit?" she said. + +"Yes; two thousand pounds; I believe the owners will take that on +condition that the purchase is completed, say, in October." + +"My husband will be back by then. I have a great mind to agree," she +said. She almost trembled in her eagerness. After a moment's pause she +spoke. + +"I will accept your offer, Mr. Acland. I don't know where to go in +August and September, and Silverbel will be the very place. Mr. +Ogilvie will thank you most heartily for your generous trust in us +both when he comes back." + +"I have plenty of funds to meet this loan," thought the lawyer. "I am +safe so far." Aloud he said, "Then I will go and see the owners +to-morrow." + +"This clinches the matter," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "I will begin ordering +the furniture immediately." + +The lawyer and the lady had a little further conversation, and then +Mrs. Ogilvie dressed and went out to dine, and told many of her +friends of her golden dreams. + +"A place in the country, a place like Silverbel, has always been the +longing of my life," she said, and she looked pathetic and almost +ethereal, as she spoke, and as though nothing pleased her more than a +ramble through country lanes with buttercups and daisies within reach. + +On the following Sunday, Rochester happened to lunch with Mrs. Ogilvie +and her little daughter. Mrs. Ogilvie talked during the entire meal of +the beautiful place which was soon to be hers. + +"You shall come with Sibyl and me to see it to-morrow," she said. "I +will ask Lady Helen to come, too. I will send her a note by messenger. +We might meet at Victoria Station at eleven o'clock, and go to +Silverbel and have lunch at the little inn on the river." + +Rochester agreed somewhat eagerly. His eyes brightened. He looked at +Sibyl, who gave him a meaning, affectionate, sympathetic glance. She +would enjoy very much seeing the lovers wandering through beautiful +Silverbel side by side. + +"It's the most darling, lovely place," she said; "nobody knows how +beautiful it is. I do hope it will soon be ours." + +"When our ship comes in, it will be ours," said Mrs. Ogilvie, and she +laughed merrily and looked full of happiness. + +When the servants left the room, however, Rochester bent forward and +said something to Mrs. Ogilvie which did not please that good lady +quite so much. + +"Have you heard the rumors with regard to the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine?" he asked. + +"What rumors?" Mrs. Ogilvie looked anxious. "I know nothing whatever +about business," she said, testily, "I leave all that absolutely to my +husband. I know that he considers the mine an excellent one, but his +full report cannot yet have reached England." + +"Of course it has not. Ogilvie's report in full cannot come to hand +for another six weeks. I allude now to a paragraph in one of the great +financial papers, in which the mine is somewhat depreciated, the gold +being said to be much less to the ton than was originally supposed, +and the strata somewhat shallow, and terminating abruptly. Doubtless +there is no truth in it." + +"Not a word, not a word," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "but I make a point of +being absolutely ignorant with regard to gold mines. I consider it +positively wrong of a woman to mix herself up in such masculine +matters. All the sweet femininity of character must depart if such +knowledge is carried to any extent." + +"Lady Helen knows about all these sort of things, and yet I think she +is quite feminine," said Rochester; and then he colored faintly and +looked at Sibyl, whose eyes danced with fun. + +Mrs. Ogilvie slowly rose from the table. + +"You will find cigars in that box," she said. "No, Sibyl, you are not +to stay with Mr. Rochester; come to the drawing-room with me." + +"Oh, do let her stay," earnestly pleaded the young man, "she has often +sat with me while I smoked before." + +"Well, as you please, but don't spoil her," said the mother. She left +the room, and Sibyl curled herself up luxuriously in a deep armchair +near Mr. Rochester. + +"I have a lot of things to ask you," she said; "I am not going to be +like my ownest mother, I am going to be like Lady Helen. I want to +understand about the gold mine. I want to understand why, if you give +your money to a certain thing, you get back little bits of gold. Can +you make the gold into sovereigns, is that what happens?" + +"It is extremely difficult for me to explain," said Rochester, "but I +think the matter lies in a nutshell. If your father gives a good +report of the mine there will be a great deal of money subscribed, as +it is called, by different people." + +"What's subscribed?" + +"Well, given. You know what it means when people ask your mother to +subscribe to a charity?" + +"Oh, yes, I know quite well; and Mr. and Mrs. Holman, they may +subscribe, may they?" + +"Yes, whoever they may be. I don't know Mr. and Mrs. Holman, but of +course they may intend to subscribe, and other people will do the +same, and if we give, say, a hundred pounds we shall get back perhaps +one hundred and fifty, perhaps two hundred." + +"Oh, that's very nice," said Sibyl; "I seem to understand, and yet I +don't understand." + +"You understand enough, my dear little girl, quite enough. Don't +puzzle your poor little brain. Your mother is right, these are matters +for men." + +"And you are quite certain that my father will say that the beautiful +mine is full of gold?" said Sibyl. + +"He will say it if the gold is there." + +"And if it is not?" + +"Then he will tell the truth." + +"Of course," said Sibyl, proudly. "My father couldn't tell a lie if he +was even to try. It would be impossible, wouldn't it, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I should say quite impossible," replied Rochester firmly. + +"You are awfully nice, you know," she said; "you are nice enough even +for Lady Helen. I do hope father will find the mine full up to the +brim with gold. Such a lot of people will be happy then." + +"So they will," replied Rochester. + +"And darlingest mother can have the beautiful place. Hasn't the new +place got a lovely name--Silverbel?" + +"It sounds very pretty, Sibyl." + +"And you will come to-morrow and see it, won't you?" + +"Yes." + +"And you will bring Lady Helen?" + +"Your mother will bring Lady Helen." + +"It's all the same," replied Sibyl. "Oh, I am so glad." + +She talked a little longer, and then went upstairs. + +Miss Winstead often spent Sunday with her friends. She was not in the +schoolroom now as Sibyl entered. Sibyl thought this was a golden +opportunity to write to her father. She sat down and prepared to write +a letter. This was always a somewhat laborious task. Her thoughts +flowed freely enough, but her hand could not wield the pen quite quick +enough for the eager thoughts, nor was her spelling perfect, nor her +written thoughts quite so much to the point as her spoken ones. +Nevertheless, it was full time for her father to hear from her, and +she had a great deal to say. She took a sheet of paper, dipped her pen +in the ink, and began: + + "DARLINGIST FATHER,--Yesterday I picked a rose at Silverbel, + the place that mother wants us to have when you com bak + rich. Here's the rose for you. Pwaps it will be withered, + father, but its hart will be alive. Kiss it and think of + Sibyl. It's hart is like my hart, and my hart thinks of you + morning, noon, and night, evry night, father, and evry + morning, and allways, allways during the hole of the day. + It's most portant, father, that you should come back rich. + It's most solum nesesarey. I do so hope the mine will be + full up to the brim with gold, for if it is a lot of people + here will be made happy. Have you found the mine yet, + father, and is it ful to the brim of gold? You don't know + how portant it is. It's cos of Mr. and Mrs. Holman, father, + and their dusty broken toys, and cos of nursie and her + spectakles, and cos of one who wants to marry another one, + and I mustn't tell names, and cos of the big-wigs, father. + Oh, it is portant. + + "Your lovin + "SIBYL." + +"He'll understand," thought Sibyl; "he's wonderful for seeing right +through a thing, and he'll quite know what I mean by the 'heart of the +rose,'" and she kissed the rose passionately and put it inside the +letter, and nurse directed the letter for her, and it was dropped into +the pillar-box that same night. + +The letter was not read by the one it was intended for until--but that +refers to another part of the story. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +The next day was a glorious one, and Lady Helen, Mr. Rochester, Mrs. +Ogilvie, and Sibyl all met at Victoria Station in time to catch the +11.20 train to Richmond, the nearest station to Silverbel. There a +carriage was to meet them, to take them to the house. They were to +lunch at a small inn close by, and afterwards have a row on the river; +altogether a very delightful day was planned. + +It was now the heart of a glorious summer--such a summer as does not +often visit England. The sky was cloudless; the sun shone, but the +great heat was tempered by a soft, delicious breeze. + +Sibyl, all in white, with a white shady hat making her little face +even more lovely than usual, stood by her mother's side, close to a +first-class carriage, to await the arrival of the other two. + +Lady Helen and Rochester were seen walking slowly down the platform. +Sibyl gave one of her gleeful shouts, and ran to meet them. + +"Here you both is!" she said, and she looked full up at Lady Helen, +with such a charming glance of mingled affection and understanding, +that Lady Helen blushed, in spite of herself. + +Lady Helen Douglas was a very nice-looking girl, not exactly pretty, +but her gray eyes were capable of many shades of emotion. They were +large, and full of intelligence. Her complexion was almost colorless. +She had a slim, graceful figure. Her jet-black hair, which she wore +softly coiled round her head, was also thick and beautiful. Sibyl used +to like to touch that hair, and loved very much to nestle up close to +the graceful figure, and take shy peeps into the depths of the eyes +which seemed to hold secrets. + +"You do look nice," said Sibyl, speaking in a semi-whisper, but in a +tone of great ecstasy, "and so does Mr. Rochester. Do you know, I +always call him nice Mr. Rochester. Watson is so interested in him." + +"Who is Watson?" asked Lady Helen. + +"Don't you know, he is our footman. He is very nice, too; he is full +of impulses, and they are all good. I expect the reason he is so +awfully interested in _dear_ Mr. Rochester is because they are both +having love affairs. You know, Watson has a girl, too, he is awfully +fond of; I 'spect they'll marry when father comes back with all the +gold. You don't know how fond I am of Watson; he's a very great, +special friend of mine. Now here's the carriage. Let's all get in. +Aren't you both glad you're coming, and coming together, both of you +_together_, to visit Silverbel. It's a 'licious place; there are all +kinds of little private walks and shrubberies, and seats for two under +trees. Two that want to be alone can be alone at Silverbel. Now let's +all get into the carriage." + +Poor Rochester and Lady Helen at that moment thought Sibyl almost an +_enfant terrible_. However, there was no help for it. She would have +her say, and her words were bright and her interest of the keenest. It +mattered nothing at all to her that passers-by turned to look and +smiled in an amused way. + +Mrs. Ogilvie was in an excellent humor. All the way down she talked to +Lady Helen of the bazaar which she had already arranged was to take +place at Silverbel during the last week in August. + +"I had meant to put it off until my husband returned," she remarked +finally, "but on reflection that seemed a pity, for he is scarcely +likely to be back before the end of October, and by then it would be +too late; and, besides, the poor dear Home for Incurables needs its +funds, and why should it languish when we are all anxious, more than +anxious, to be charitable? Mr. Acland, my lawyer, is going to pay a +deposit on the price of the estate, so I can enter into possession +almost immediately. I am going to get Morris & Liberty to furnish the +place, and I shall send down servants next week. But about the +bazaar. I mean it to be perfect in every way. The stalls are to be +held by unmarried titled ladies. Your services, Lady Helen, must be +secured immediately." + +"Oh, yes," cried Sibyl, "you are to have a most beautiful stall, a +flower stall: what do you say?" + +"If I have a stall I will certainly choose a flower stall," replied +Lady Helen, and she smiled at Sibyl, and patted her hand. + +They soon arrived at Richmond, and got into the carriage which was +waiting for them, and drove to Silverbel. They had lunch at the inn as +arranged, and then they wandered about the grounds, and presently +Sibyl had her wish, for Rochester and Lady Helen strolled away from +her mother and herself, and walked down a shady path to the right of +the house. + +"There they go!" cried the child. + +"There who go, Sibyl?" asked Mrs. Ogilvie. + +"The one who wants to marry the other," replied Sibyl. "Hush, mother, +we are not to know, we are to be quite blind. Aren't you awfully +incited?" + +"You are a very silly, rude little girl," replied the mother. "You +must not make the sort of remarks you are always making to Mr. +Rochester and Lady Helen. Such remarks are in very bad form. Now, +don't take even the slightest notice when they return." + +"Aren't I to speak to them?" asked Sibyl, raising her eyes in wonder. + +"Of course, but you are not to say anything special." + +"Oh, nothing special. Am I to talk about the weather?" + +"No; don't be such a little goose." + +"I always notice," replied Sibyl, softly, "that when _quite_ strangers +meet, they talk about the weather. I thought that was why. Can't I say +anything more--more as if they were my very dear old friends? I +thought they'd like it. I thought they'd like to know that there was +one here who understanded all about it." + +"About it?" + +"Their love, mother, their love for--for each other." + +"Who may the one be who is supposed to understand?" + +"Me, mother," said Sibyl. + +Mrs. Ogilvie burst into a ringing laugh. + +"You are a most ridiculous little girl," she said. "Now, listen; you +are not to take any notice when they come back. They are not engaged; +perhaps they never will be. Anyhow, you will make yourself an +intensely disagreeable child if you make such remarks as you have +already made. Do you understand?" + +"You has put it plain, mother," replied Sibyl. "I think I do. Now, +let's look at the flowers." + +"I have ordered the landlord of the inn to serve tea on the lawn," +continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "Is it not nice to feel that we are going to +have tea on our own lawn, Sibyl?" + +"It's lovely!" replied Sibyl. + +"I am devoted to the country," continued the mother; "there is no +place like the country for me." + +"So I think, too," replied Sibyl. "I love the country. We'll have all +the very poorest people down here, won't we, mother?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"All the people who want to be made happy; Mr. and Mrs. Holman, and +the other faded old people in the almshouses that I went to see one +time with Miss Winstead." + +"Now you are talking in your silly way again," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. +"You make me quite cross when you talk of that old couple, Mr. and +Mrs. Holman." + +"But, mother, why aren't they to be rich if we are to be rich? Do you +know that Mrs. Holman is saving up her money to buy some of the gold +out of father's mine. She expects to get two hundred pounds instead of +one. It's very puzzling, and yet I seem to understand. Oh, here comes +Mr. Landlord with the tea-things. How inciting!" + +The table was spread, and cake, bread and butter, and fruit provided. +Lady Helen and Rochester came back. They both looked a little +conscious and a little afraid of Sibyl, but as she turned her back on +them the moment they appeared, and pretended to be intensely busy +picking a bouquet of flowers, they took their courage in their hands +and came forward and joined in the general conversation. + +Lady Helen elected to pour out tea, and was extremely cheerful, +although she could not help reddening when Sibyl brought her a very +large marguerite daisy, and asked her to pull off the petals and see +whether the rhyme came right. + +"What rhyme?" asked Lady Helen. + +"I know it all, shall I say it to you?" cried Sibyl. She began to pull +off the different petals, and to repeat in a childish sing-song +voice:-- + + "One he loves, two he loves, three he loves they say, + Four he loves with all his heart, five he casts away, + Six _he_ loves, seven _she_ loves, eight they both love, + Nine he comes, ten he tarries, + Eleven he woos, twelve he marries." + +Sibyl repeated this nonsense with extreme gusto, and when the final +petal on the large daisy proclaimed that "twelve he marries," she +flung the stalk at Rochester and laughed gaily. + +"I knew _you'd_ have luck," she said. Then she caught her mother's +warning eye and colored painfully, thus making the situation, if +possible, a little more awkward. + +"Suppose we go for a row on the river this lovely afternoon," said +Lady Helen, starting up restlessly. She had talked of the coming +bazaar, and had wandered through the rooms at Silverbel, and had +listened to Mrs. Ogilvie's suggestions with regard to furniture and +different arrangements until she was almost tired of the subject. + +Rochester sprang to his feet. + +"I can easily get a boat," he said; "I'll go and consult with mine +host." + +He sauntered across the grounds, and Sibyl, after a moment's +hesitation, followed him. A boat was soon procured, and they all found +themselves on the shining silver Thames. + +"Is that why our house is called Silverbel?" asked Sibyl. "Is it 'cos +we can see the silver shine of the river, and 'cos it is _belle_, +French for beautiful?" + +"Perhaps so," answered the mother with a smile. + +The evening came on, the heat of the day was over, the sun faded. + +"What a pity we must go back to London," said Sibyl. "I don't think I +ever had such a lovely day before." + +"We shall soon be back here," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "I shall see about +furnishing next week at the latest, and we can come down whenever we +are tired of town." + +"That will be lovely," said Sibyl. "Oh, won't my pony love cantering +over the roads here!" + +When they landed at the little quay just outside the inn, the landlord +came down to meet them. He held a telegram in his hand. + +"This came for you, madam, in your absence," he said, and he gave the +telegram to Mrs. Ogilvie. She tore it open. It was from her lawyer, +Mr. Acland, and ran as follows: + +"Ominous rumors with regard to Lombard Deeps have reached me. Better +not go any further at present with the purchase of Silverbel." + +Mrs. Ogilvie's face turned pale. She looked up and met the fixed stare +of her little daughter and of Rochester. Lady Helen had turned away. +She was leaning over the rails of the little garden and looking down +into the swiftly flowing river. + +Mrs. Ogilvie's face grew hard. She crushed up the telegram in her +hand. + +"I hope there is nothing wrong?" asked Rochester. + +"Nothing at all," she replied. "Yes, we will come here next week. +Sibyl, don't stare in that rude way." + +The return journey was not as lively as that happy one in the morning. + +Sibyl felt through her sensitive little frame that her mother was +worried about something. Rochester also looked anxious. Lady Helen +alone seemed unconscious and _distrait_. When the child nestled up to +her she put her arm round her waist. + +"Are you sad about anything, darling Lady Helen?" whispered Sibyl. + +"No, Sibyl; I am quite happy." + +"Then you are thinking very hard?" + +"I often think." + +"I do so want you to be awfully happy." + +"I know you do, and I think I shall be." + +"Then that is right. _Twelve he marries_. Wasn't it sweet of the +marguerite daisy to give Mr. Rochester just the right petal at the +end; wasn't it luck?" + +"Yes; but hush, don't talk so loud." + +Mr. Rochester now changed his seat, and came opposite to where Lady +Helen and the child had placed themselves. He did not talk to Lady +Helen, but he looked at her several times. Presently he took one of +Sibyl's hands, and stroked it fondly. + +"Does Lady Helen tell you beautiful stories too?" asked Sibyl, +suddenly. + +"No," he answered; "she is quite naughty about that. She never tells +me the charming stories she tells you." + +"You ought to," said Sibyl, looking at her earnestly; "it would do him +good. It's an awfully nice way, if you want to give a person a home +truth, to put it into a story. Nurse told me about that, and I +remembered it ever since. She used to put her home truths into +proverbs when I was quite young, such as, 'A burnt child dreads the +fire,' or 'Marry in haste, repent at leisure,' or----" + +"Oh, that will do, Sibyl." Lady Helen spoke; there was almost a +piteous appeal in the words. + +"Well," said Sibyl, "perhaps it is better to put home truths into +stories, not proverbs. It's like having more sugar. The 'home truth' +is the pill, and when it is sugared all over you can swallow it. You +can't swallow it _without_ the sugar, can you? Nursie begins her +stories like this: 'Miss Sibyl, once upon a time I knew a little +girl,' and then she tells me all about a horrid girl, and I know the +horrid girl is me. I am incited, of course, but very, very soon I get +down to the pill. Now, I am sure, Mr. Rochester, there are some things +you ought to be told, there are some things you do wrong, aren't +there, Mr. Rochester?" + +"Oh, Sibyl, do stop that ceaseless chatter," cried her mother from the +other end of the carriage; "you talk the most utter nonsense," and +Sibyl for once was effectually silenced. + +The party broke up at Victoria Station, and Mrs. Ogilvie and her +little daughter drove home. As soon as ever they arrived there Watson +informed Mrs. Ogilvie that Mr. Acland was waiting to see her in the +library. + +"Tiresome man!" she muttered, but she went to see him at once. The +electric light was on; the room reminded her uncomfortably of her +husband. He spent a great deal of time in his library, more than a +very happy married man would have done. She had often found him there +with a perplexed brow, and a heart full of anxiety. She had found him +there, too, in his rare moments of exultation and happiness. She would +have preferred to see the lawyer in any room but this. + +"Well," she said, "why did you send me that ridiculous telegram?" + +"You would not be surprised if you had read the article which appeared +to-day in _The Financial Enquirer_." + +"I have never heard of _The Financial Enquirer_." + +"But City men know it," replied Mr. Acland, "and to a great extent it +governs the market. It is one of our leading financial papers. The +rumors it alludes to may be untrue, but they will influence the +subscriptions made by the public to the share capital. In fact, with +so ominous an article coming from so first-rate a source, nothing but +a splendid report from Ogilvie can save the mine." + +Mrs. Ogilvie drummed with her delicate taper fingers on the nearest +table. + +"How you puzzle a poor woman with your business terms," she said. +"What do I know about mines? When my husband left me he said that he +would come back a rich man. He gave me his promise, he must keep his +word." + +"He will naturally keep his word if he can, and if the mine is all +that Lord Grayleigh anticipates everything will be right," replied +Acland. "There is no man more respected than Ogilvie in the City. His +report as assayer will save the situation; that is, if it is +first-rate. But if it is a medium report the capital will not be +sufficiently subscribed to, and if the report happens to be bad the +whole thing will fall through. We shall know soon now." + +"This is very disturbing," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "I have had a long, +tiring day, and you give me a headache. When is my husband's report +likely to reach England?" + +"Not for several weeks, of course. It ought to be here in about two +months' time, but we may have a cablegram almost any day. The public +are just in a waiting attitude, they want to invest their money. If +the mine turns out a good thing shares will be subscribed to any +extent. Everything depends on Ogilvie's report." + +"Won't you stay and have some supper?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, carelessly. +"I have said already that I do not understand these things." + +"I cannot stay, I came to see you because it is important. I want to +know if you really wish to go on with the purchase of Silverbel. I am +ready to pay a deposit for you of £2,000 on the price of the estate, +which will, of course, clinch the purchase, and this deposit I have +arranged to pay to-morrow, but under the circumstances would it not be +best to delay? If your husband cannot give a good report of the mine +he will not want to buy an expensive place like Silverbel. My advice +to you, Mrs. Ogilvie, is to let Silverbel go. I happen to know at this +moment of another purchaser who is only waiting to close if you +decline. When your husband comes back rich you can easily buy another +place." + +"No other place will suit me except Silverbel," she answered. + +"I strongly recommend you not to buy it now." + +"And I intend to have it. I am going down there to live next week. Of +course, you arranged that I could go in at once after the deposit was +paid?" + +"Yes, on sufferance, subject to your completing the purchase in +October." + +"Then pray don't let the matter be disturbed again. I shall order +furniture immediately. You are quite a raven, a croaker of bad news, +Mr. Acland." + +Mr. Acland raised his hand in deprecation. + +"I thought it only fair to tell you," he answered, and the next moment +he left the house. As he did so, he uttered a solitary remark: + +"What a fool that woman is! I pity Ogilvie." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +It was the last week in July when Mrs. Ogilvie took possession of +Silverbel. She had ordered furniture in her usual reckless fashion, +going to the different shops where she knew she could obtain credit. +The house, already beautiful, looked quite lovely when decorated by +the skilful hands which arranged draperies and put furniture into the +most advantageous positions. + +Sibyl's room, just over the front porch, was really worthy of her. It +was a bower of whiteness and innocence. It had lattice windows which +looked out on to the lovely grounds. Climbing roses peeped in through +the narrow panes, and sent their sweet fragrance to greet the child +when the windows were open and she put her head out. + +Sibyl thought more than ever of her father as she took possession of +the lovely room at Silverbel. What a beautiful world it was! and what +a happy little girl she, Sibyl, thought herself in possessing such +perfect parents. Her prayers became now passionate thanks. She had got +so much that it seemed unkind to ask Lord Jesus for one thing more. Of +course, He was making the mine full of gold, and He was making her +father very, very rich, and everyone, everyone she knew was soon to be +happy. + +Lady Helen Douglas came to stay at Silverbel, and this seemed to give +an added touch to the child's sense of enjoyment, for Lady Helen had +at last, in a shy half whisper, told the eager little listener that +she did love Mr. Rochester, and, further, that they were only waiting +to proclaim their engagement to the world until the happy time when +Sibyl's father came back. + +"For Jim," continued Lady Helen, "will take shares in the Lombard +Deeps, and as soon as ever he does this we can afford to marry. But +you must not speak of this, Sibyl. I have only confided in you because +you have been our very good friend all along." + +Sibyl longed to write off at once to her father to hurry up matters +with regard to the gold mine. + +"Of course, it is full of gold, quite full," thought the child; "but I +hope father will write, or, better still, come home quickly and tell +us all about it." + +She began to count the days now to her father's return, and was +altogether in such a happy mood that it was delightful to be in her +presence or to see her joyful face. + +Sibyl was nearly beside herself with delight at having exchanged her +dull town life for this happy country one. She quickly made friends +with the poor people in the nearest village, who were all attracted by +her bright ways and pretty face. Her mother also gave her a small part +of the garden to do what she liked with, and when she was not digging +industriously, or riding her pony, or talking to Lady Helen, or +engaged in her lessons, she followed her mother about like a faithful +little dog. + +Mrs. Ogilvie was so pleased and contented with her purchase that she +was wonderfully amiable. She often now sat in the long evenings with +Sibyl by her side, and listened without impatience to the child's +rhapsodies about her father. Mrs. Ogilvie would also be glad when +Philip returned. But just now her thought of all thoughts was centred +on the bazaar. This bazaar was to clinch her position as a country +lady. All the neighbors round were expected to attend, and already she +was busy drawing up programmes of the coming festivities, and +arranging with a great firm in London for the special marquee, which +was to grace her lawn right down to the river's edge. + +The bazaar was expected to last for quite three days, and, during that +time, a spirited band would play, and there would be various +entertainments of all sorts and descriptions. Little boats, with +colored flags and awnings, were to be in requisition on the brink of +the river, and people should pay heavily for the privilege of +occupying these boats. + +Mrs. Ogilvie clapped her hands almost childishly when this last +brilliant idea came to her, and Sibyl thought that it was worthy of +mother, and entered into the scheme with childish enthusiasm. + +The third week in August was finally decided as the best week for the +bazaar, and those friends who were not going abroad promised to stay +at Silverbel for the occasion. + +Some weeks after Mrs. Ogilvie had taken possession of Silverbel, Mr. +Acland called to see her. + +"We have had no cable yet from your husband," he said, "and the rumors +continue to be ominous. I wish with all my heart we could silence +them. I, myself, believe in the Lombard Deeps, for Grayleigh is the +last man to lend his name or become chairman of a company which has +not brilliant prospects; but I can see that even he is a little +anxious." + +"Oh, pray don't croak," was Mrs. Ogilvie's response and then she once +again likened Mr. Acland to the raven. + +"You are a bird of ill-omen," she said, shaking her finger playfully +in his face. + +He frowned as she addressed him; he could not see the witticism of her +remark. + +"When people are perfectly happy and know nothing whatever with +regard to business, what is the good of coming and telling these +dismalities?" she continued. "I am nothing but a poor little feminine +creature, trying to do good, and to make myself happy in an innocent +way. Why will you come and croak? I know Philip quite well enough to +be certain that he would not have set foot on this expedition if he +had not been satisfied in advance that the mine was a good one." + +"That is my own impression," said Mr. Acland, thoughtfully; "but don't +forget you are expected to complete the purchase of Silverbel by the +end of October." + +"Oh! Philip will be back before then," answered Mrs. Ogilvie in a +light and cheerful tone. "Any day now we may get a cablegram. Well, +sweetheart, and what are you doing here?" + +Sibyl had entered the room, and was leaning against the window frame. + +"Any day we may expect what to happen, mother darling?" she asked. + +"We may expect a cable from father to say he is coming back again." + +"Oh! do you think so? Oh, I am so happy!" + +Sibyl skipped lightly out of the room. She ran across the sunny, +radiant garden, and presently found herself in a sort of wilderness +which she had appropriated, and where she played at all sorts of +solitary games. In that wilderness she imagined herself at times a +lonely traveler, at other times a merchant carrying goodly pearls, at +other times a bandit engaged in feats of plunder. All possible scenes +in history or imagination that she understood did the child try to +enact in the wilderness. But she went there now with no intention of +posing in any imaginary part. She went there because her heart was +full. + +"Oh, Lord Jesus, it is so beautiful of you," she said, and she looked +up as she spoke full at the blue sky. "I can scarcely believe that my +ownest father will very soon be back again; it is quite too +beautiful." + +A few days after this, and toward the end of the first week in August, +Sibyl was one day playing as usual in the grounds when the sound of +carriage wheels attracted her attention. She ran down to see who was +arriving, and a shout of delight came from her when she saw Lord +Grayleigh coming down the drive. He called the coachman to stop and +put out his head. + +"Jump into the carriage, Sib, I have not seen you for some time. When +are you going to pay me another visit at Grayleigh Manor?" + +"Oh, some time, but not at present," replied Sibyl. "I am too happy +with mother here to think of going away. Isn't Silverbel sweet, Lord +Grayleigh?" + +"Charming," replied Grayleigh. "Is your mother in, little woman?" + +"I think so. She is very incited about the bazaar. Are you coming to +the bazaar?" + +"I don't know, I will tell you presently." + +Sibyl laid her little hand in Lord Grayleigh's. He gave it a squeeze, +and she clasped it confidingly. + +"Do you know that I am so monstrous happy I scarcely know what to do," +she said. + +"Because you have got a pretty new place?" + +"No, no, nothing of that sort. It's 'cos father is coming back afore +long! He will cable, whatever that means, and soon afterward he'll +come. I'm always thanking Lord Jesus about it. Isn't it good of Him to +send my ownest father back so soon?" + +Lord Grayleigh made no answer, unless an uneasy movement of his feet +signified a sense of discomfort. The carriage drew up at the porch and +he alighted. Sibyl skipped out after him. + +[Illustration: "Shall I find mother for you?" asked Sibyl, leading +Lord Grayleigh across the lawn.--Page 208. _Daddy's Girl_.] + +"Shall I find mother for you?" she said. "Oh, there she is on the +lawn. Darlingest mother, she can think of nothing at present but the +bazaar, when all the big-wigs are to be present. You're a big-wig, +aren't you? I asked nurse what big-wigs were, and she said people with +handles. Mother said they were people in a _good social position_. +I remember the words so well 'cos I couldn't understand 'em, but when +I asked Miss Winstead to 'splain, she said mother meant ladies and +gentlemen, and when I asked her to tell me what ladies and gentlemen +was, she said people who behaved nicely. Now isn't it all very +puzzling, 'cos the person who I think behaves nicest of all is our +footman, Watson. He has lovely manners and splendid impulses; and +perhaps the next nicest is dear Mrs. Holman, and she keeps a toy-shop +in a back street. But when I asked mother if Watson and Mrs. Holman +were big-wigs, she said I spoked awful nonsense. What do you think, +Lord Grayleigh? Please do try to 'splain." + +Lord Grayleigh had laughed during Sibyl's long speech. He now laid his +hand on her arm. + +"A big-wig is quite an ugly word," he said, "but a lady or a +gentleman, you will find them in all ranks of life." + +"You haven't 'splained a bit," said the little girl. "Mother wants +big-wigs at her bazaar; you are one, so will you come?" + +"I will answer that question after I have seen your mother." + +Lord Grayleigh crossed the lawn, and Sibyl, feeling dissatisfied, +turned away. + +"He doesn't look quite happy," she thought; "I'm sorry he is coming +to take up mother's time. Mother promised, and it's most 'portant, to +ride with me this evening. It's on account of poor Dan Scott it is so +'portant. Oh, I do hope she won't forget. Perhaps Miss Winstead would +come if mother can't. I promised poor Dan a basket of apples, and also +that I'd go and sit with him, and mother said he should cert'nly have +the apples, and that she and I would ride over with them. He broke his +arm a week ago, poor fellow! poor little Dan! I'll go and find Miss +Winstead. If mother can't come, she must." + +Sibyl ran off in search of her governess, and Lord Grayleigh and Mrs. +Ogilvie, in deep conversation, paced up and down the lawn. + +"You didn't hear by the last mail?" was Lord Grayleigh's query. + +"No, I have not heard for two mails. I cannot account for his +silence." + +"He is probably up country," was Lord Grayleigh's answer. "I thought +before cabling that I would come and inquire of you." + +"I have not heard," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "Of course things are all +right, and Philip was never much of a correspondent. It probably +means, Lord Grayleigh, that he has completed his report, and is coming +back. I shall be glad, for I want him to be here some time before +October, in order to see about paying the rest of the money for our +new place. What do you think of Silverbel?" + +"Oh, quite charming," said Lord Grayleigh, in that kind of tone which +clearly implied that he was not thinking about his answer. + +"I am anxious, of course, to complete the purchase," continued Mrs. +Ogilvie. + +"Indeed!" Lord Grayleigh raised his brows. + +"Mr. Acland lent me two thousand pounds to pay the deposit," continued +the lady, "but we must complete by the end of October. When my husband +comes back rich, he will be able to do so. He will come back rich, +won't he?" Here she looked up appealingly at Lord Grayleigh. + +"He will come back rich, or we shall have the deluge," he replied, +oracularly. "Don't be uneasy. As you have not heard I shall cable. I +shall wire to Brisbane, which I fancy is his headquarters." + +"Perhaps," answered Mrs. Ogilvie, in an abstracted tone. "By the way, +if you are going back to town, may I make use of your carriage? There +are several things I want to order for my bazaar. It is to be in about +a fortnight now. You will remember that you are one of the patrons." + +"Certainly," he answered; "at what date is the bazaar to be held?" + +She named the arranged date, and he entered it in a gold-mounted +engagement book. + +"I shall stay in town to-night," continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "Just wait +for me a moment, and I will get on my hat." + +Soon afterward the two were driving back to the railway station. Mrs. +Ogilvie had forgotten all about her engagement to Sibyl. Sibyl saw her +go off with a feeling of deep disappointment, for Miss Winstead had a +headache, and declined to ride with the little girl. Dan Scott must +wait in vain for his apples. But should he wait? Sibyl wondered. + +She went down in a discontented way to a distant part of the grounds. +She was not feeling at all happy now. It was all very well to have a +heart bubbling over with good-nature and kindly impulses; but when +those impulses were flung back on herself, then the little girl felt +that latent naughtiness which was certainly an integral part of her +character. She saw Dan Scott's old grandfather digging weeds in the +back garden. Dan Scott was one of the gardener's boys. He was a +bright, cheery-faced little fellow, with sloe-black eyes and +tight-curling hair, and a winsome smile and white teeth. Sibyl had +made friends with him at once, and when he ceased to appear on the +scenes a week back, she was full of consternation, for Dan had fallen +from a tree, and broken his arm rather badly. He had been feverish +also, and could not come to attend to his usual work. His old +grandfather had at first rated the lad for having got into this +trouble, but then he had pitied him. + +Sibyl the day before had promised old Scott that she and her mother +would ride to Dan's cottage and present him with a basket of early +apples. There were some ripening now on the trees, long in shape, +golden in color, and full of delicious juice. + +Sibyl had investigated these apples on her own account, and pronounced +them very good, and had thought that a basket of the fruit would +delight Dan. She had spoken to her mother on the subject, and her +mother, in the height of good-humor, had promised that the apples +should be gathered, and the little girl and she would ride down a +lovely country lane to Dan's cottage. They were to start about six +o'clock, would ride under the shade of some spreading beech trees, and +come back in the cool of the evening. + +The whole plan was delightful, and Sibyl had been thinking about it +all day. Now her mother had gone off to town, and most clearly had +forgotten her promise to the child. + +"Well, Missy," said old Scott as he dug his spade deep down into the +soil; "don't stand just there, Missy, you'll get the earth all over +you." + +Sibyl moved to a respectful distance. + +"How is Dan?" she asked, after a pause. + +"A-wrastling with his pain," answered Scott, a frown coming between +his brows. + +"Is he expecting me and mother with the beautiful apples?" asked +Sibyl, in a somewhat anxious tone. + +"Is he expecting you, Missy?" answered the old man, raising his +beetling brows and fixing his black eyes on the child. "Is he +a-counting the hours? Do ducks swim, Missy, and do little sick boys +a-smothered up in bed in small close rooms want apples and little +ladies to visit 'em or not? You said you'd go, Missy, and Dan he's +counting the minutes." + +"Of course I'll go," replied Sibyl, but she looked anxious and +_distrait_. Then she added, "I will go if I possibly can." + +"I didn't know there was any doubt about it, Missy, and I tell you Dan +is counting the minutes. Last thing he said afore I went out this +morning was, 'I'll see little Missy to-day, and she is to bring me a +basket of apples.' Seems to me he thinks a sight more of you than the +fruit." + +Sibyl turned pale as Scott continued to speak in an impressive voice. + +"Dear, dear, it is quite dreadful," she said, "I could cry about it, I +could really, truly." + +"But why, Missy? What's up? I don't like to see a little lady like you +a-fretting." + +"Mr. Scott, I'm awfully, awfully sorry; I am terribly afraid I can't +go." + +Old Scott ceased to delve the ground. He leant on the top of his spade +and looked full at the child. His sunken eyes seemed to burn into +hers. + +"You promised you'd go," he said then slowly. + +"I did, I certainly did, but mother was to have gone with me, and she +has had to go to town about the bazaar. I suppose you couldn't take +back the apples with you when you go home to-night, Mr. Scott?" + +"I could not," answered the old man. He began to dig with lusty and, +in the child's opinion, almost venomous vigor. + +"Besides," he added, "it wouldn't be the same. It's you he wants to +see as much as the fruit. If I was a little lady I'd keep my word to +the poor. It's a dangerous thing to break your word to the poor; +there's God's curse on them as do." + +Sibyl seemed to shrink into herself. She looked up at the sky. + +"Lord Jesus wouldn't curse a little girl like me, a little girl who +loves Him," she thought; but, all the same, the old man's words +seemed to chill her. + +"I'll do my very best," she said, and she went slowly across the +garden. Old Scott called after her: + +"I wouldn't disappoint the little lad if I was you, Missy. He's +a-counting of the minutes." + +A clock in the stable yard struck five. Old Scott continued to watch +Sibyl as she walked away. + +"I could take the apples," he said to himself; "I could if I had a +mind to, but I don't see why the quality shouldn't keep their word, +and I'm due to speak at the Mission Hall this evening. Little Miss +should know afore she makes promises. She's a rare fine little 'un, +though, for all that. I never see a straighter face, eyes that could +look through you. Dear little Missy! Dan thinks a precious sight of +her. I expect somehow she'll take him the apples." + +So old Scott went on murmuring to himself, sometimes breaking off to +sing a song, and Sibyl returned to the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +She walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the ground. She was thinking +harder than she had ever thought before in the whole course of her +short life. When she reached the parting of the ways which led in one +direction to the sunny, pretty front entrance, and in the other to the +stables, she paused again to consider. + +Miss Winstead was standing in the new schoolroom window. It was a +lovely room, furnished with just as much taste as Sibyl's own bedroom. +Miss Winstead put her head out, and called the child. + +"Tea is ready, you had better come in. What are you doing there?" + +"Is your head any better?" asked Sibyl, a ghost of a hope stealing +into her voice. + +"No, I am sorry to say it is much worse. I am going to my room to lie +down. Nurse will give you your tea." + +Sibyl did not make any answer. Miss Winstead, supposing that she was +going into the house, went to her own room. She locked her door, lay +down on her bed, and applied aromatic vinegar to her forehead. + +Sibyl turned in the direction of the stables. + +"It don't matter about my tea," she said to herself. "Nursie will +think I am with Miss Winstead, and Miss Winstead will think I am with +nurse; it's all right. I wonder if Ben would ride mother's horse with +me; but the first thing is to get the apples." + +The thought of what she was about to do, and how she would coax Ben, +the stable boy, to ride with her cheered her a little. + +"It's awful to neglect the poor," she said to herself. "Old Scott was +very solemn. He's a good man, is Scott, he's a very religious man, he +knows his Bible beautiful. He does everything by the Psalms; it's +wonderful what he finds in them--the weather and everything else. I +asked him before the storm came yesterday if we was going to have +rain, and he said 'Read your Psalms and you'll know. Don't the Psalms +for the day say "the Lord of glory thundereth"?' and he looked at a +black cloud that was coming up in the sky, and sure enough we had a +big thunderstorm. It's wonderful what a religious man is old Scott, +and what a lot he knows. He wouldn't say a thing if it wasn't true. I +suppose God does curse those who neglect the poor. I shouldn't like to +be cursed, and I did promise, and Dan _will_ be waiting and watching. +A little girl whom Jesus loves ought to keep her promise. Well, +anyhow, I'll get the apples ready." + +Sibyl rushed into the house by a side entrance, secured a basket and +entered the orchard. There she made a careful and wise selection. She +filled the basket with the golden green fruit, and arranged it +artistically with apple-leaves. + +"This will tempt dear little Dan," she said to herself. There were a +few greengages just beginning to come to perfection on a tree near. +Sibyl picked several to add to her pile of tempting fruit, and then +she went in the direction of the stables. Ben was nowhere about. She +called his name, he did not answer. He was generally to be found in +the yard at this hour. It was more than provoking. + +"Ben! Ben! Ben!" called the child. Her clear voice sounded through the +empty air. There came a gentle whinny in response. + +"Oh, my darling Nameless Pony!" she thought. She burst open the stable +door, and the next instant stood in the loose box beside the pony. The +creature knew her and loved her. He pushed out his head and begged for +a caress. Sibyl selected the smallest apple from the basket and gave +it to her pony. The nameless pony munched with right good will. + +"I could ride him alone," thought Sibyl; "it is only two or three +miles away, and I know the road, and mother, though she may be angry +when she hears, will soon forgive me. Mother never keeps angry very +long--that is one of the beautiful things about her. I do really +think I will go by my lone self. I made a promise. Mother made a +promise too, but then she forgets. I really do think I'll go. It's too +awful to remember your promise to the poor, and then to break it. I +wonder if I could saddle pony? Pony, darling, will you stay very quiet +while I try to put your saddle on? I have seen Ben do it so often, and +one day I coaxed him to let me help him." + +Just then a voice at the stable door said-- + +"Hullo! I say!" and Sibyl, starting violently, turned her head and saw +a rough-headed lad of the name of Johnson, who sometimes assisted old +Scott in the garden. Sibyl was not very fond of Johnson. She took an +interest in him, of course, as she did in all human beings, but he was +not fascinating like little Dan Scott, and he had not a religious way +with him like old Scott; nevertheless, she was glad to see him now. + +"Oh, Johnson," she said eagerly, "I want you to do something for me so +badly. If you will do it I will give you an apple." + +"What is it, Miss?" asked Johnson. + +"Will you saddle my pony for me? You can, can't you?" + +"I guess I can," answered Johnson. He spoke laconically. + +"Want to ride?" he said. "Who's a-goin' with yer?" + +"No one, I am going alone." + +Johnson made no remark. He looked at the basket of apples. + +"I say," he cried, "them's good, I like apples." + +"You shall have two, Johnson; oh, and I have a penny in my pocket as +well. Now please saddle the pony very fast, for I want to be off." + +Johnson did not see anything remarkable in Sibyl's intended ride. He +knew nothing about little Missy. As far as his knowledge went it was +quite the habit for little ladies to ride by themselves. Of course he +would get the pony ready for her, so he lifted down the pretty new +side-saddle from its place on the wall, and arranged it on the forest +pony's back. The pony turned his large gentle eyes, and looked from +Johnson to the child. + +"It don't matter about putting on my habit," said Sibyl. "It will take +such a lot of time, I can go just as I am, can't I, Johnson?" + +"If you like, Miss," answered Johnson. + +"I think I will, really, Johnson," said Sibyl in that confiding way +which fascinated all mankind, and made rough-headed Johnson her slave +for ever. + +"I might be caught, you know, if I went back to the house." + +"Oh, is that it?" answered Johnson. + +"Yes, that's it; they don't understand. No one understands in the +house how 'portant it is for me to go. I have to take the apples to +Dan Scott. I promised, you know, and it would not be right to break my +promise, would it, Johnson?" + +Johnson scratched his head. + +"I guess not!" he said. + +"If I don't take them, he'll fret and fret," said Sibyl; "and he'll +never trust me again; and the curse of God is on them that neglect the +poor. Isn't it so, Johnson? You understand, don't you?" + +"A bit, perhaps, Missy." + +"Well, I am very much obliged to you," said the little girl. "Here's +two apples, real beauties, and here's my new penny. Now, please lead +pony out, and help me to mount him." + +Johnson did so. The hoofs of the forest pony clattered loudly on the +cobble stones of the yard. Johnson led the pony to the entrance of a +green lane which ran at the back of Silverbel. Here the little girl +mounted. She jumped lightly into her seat. She was like a feather on +the back of the forest pony. Johnson arranged her skirts according to +her satisfaction, and, with her long legs dangling, her head erect, +and the reins in her hands, she started forward. The basket was +securely fastened; and the pony, well pleased at having a little +exercise, for he had been in his stable for nearly two days, started +off at a gentle canter. + +Sibyl soon left Silverbel behind her. She cantered down the pretty +country road, enjoying herself vastly. + +"I am so glad I did it," she thought; "it was brave of me. I will tell +my ownest father when he comes back. I'll tell him there was no one to +go with me, and I had to do it in order to keep my promise, and he'll +understand. I'll have to tell darling mother, too, to-night. She'll be +angry, for mother thinks it is good for me to bear the yoke in my +youth, and she'll be vexed with me for going alone, but I know she'll +forgive me afterward. Perhaps she'll say afterward, 'I'm sorry I +forgot, but you did right, Sibyl, you did right.' I am doing right, +aren't I, Lord Jesus?" and again she raised her eyes, confident and +happy, to the evening sky. + +The heat of the day was going over; it was now long past six o'clock. +Presently she reached the small cottage where the sick boy lived. She +there reined in her pony, and called aloud: + +"Are you in, Mrs. Scott?" + +A peevish-looking old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with a +large frill falling round her face, appeared in the rose-covered porch +of the tiny cottage. + +"Ah! it's you, Missy, at last," she said, and she trotted down as well +as her lameness would let her to the gate. "Has you brought the +apples?" she cried. "You are very late, Missy. Oh, I'm obligated, of +course, and I thank you heartily, Miss. Will you wait for the basket, +or shall I send it by Scott to-morrow?" + +"You can send it to-morrow, please," answered Sibyl. + +"And you ain't a-coming in? The lad's expecting you." + +"I am afraid I cannot, not to-night. Mother wasn't able to come with +me. Tell Dan that I brought him his apples, and I'll come and see him +to-morrow if I possibly can. Tell him I won't make him an out-and-out +promise, 'cos if you make a promise to the poor and don't keep it, +Lord Jesus is angry, and you get cursed. I don't quite know what +cursed means, do you, Mrs. Scott?" + +[Illustration: An old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with a +large frill, appeared in the porch of the tiny cottage.--Page 224. +_Daddy's Girl_.] + +"Oh, don't I," answered Mrs. Scott. "It's a pity you can't come in, +Missy. There, Danny, keep quiet; the little lady ain't no time to be +a-visiting of you. That's him calling out, Missy; you wait a +minute, and I'll find out what he wants." + +Mrs. Scott hobbled back to the house, and the pony chafed restlessly +at the delay. + +"Quiet, darling; quiet, pet," said Sibyl to her favorite, patting him +on his arched neck. + +Presently Mrs. Scott came back. + +"Dan's obligated for the apples, Miss, but he thinks a sight more of a +talk with you than of any apples that ever growed. He 'opes you'll +come another day." + +"I wish, I do wish I could come in now," said Sibyl wistfully; "but I +just daren't. You see, I have not even my riding habit on, I was so +afraid someone would stop me from coming at all. Give Danny my love. +But you have not told me yet what a curse means, Mrs. Scott." + +"Oh, that," answered Mrs. Scott, "but you ain't no call to know." + +"But I'd like to. I hate hearing things without understanding. What is +a curse, Mrs. Scott?" + +"There are all sorts," replied Mrs. Scott. "Once I knowed a man, and +he had a curse on him, and he dwindled and dwindled, and got smaller +and thinner and poorer, until nothing would nourish him, no food nor +drink nor nothing, and he shrunk up ter'ble until he died. It's my +belief he haunts the churchyard now. No one likes to go there in the +evening. The name of the man was Micah Sorrel. He was the most ter'ble +example of a curse I ever comed acrost in my life." + +"Well, I really must be going now," said Sibyl with a little shiver. +"Good-by; tell Dan I'll try hard to come and see him to-morrow." + +She turned the pony's head and cantered down the lane. She did not +consider Mrs. Scott a specially nice old woman. + +"She's a gloomy sort," thought the child, "she takes a gloomy view. I +like people who don't take gloomy views best. Perhaps she is something +like old Scott; having lived with him so long as his wife, perhaps +they have got to think things the same way. Old Scott looked very +solemn when he said that it was a terrible thing to have the curse of +the poor. I wonder what Micah Sorrel did. I am sorry she told me about +him, I don't like the story. But there, why should I blame Mrs. Scott, +for I asked her to 'splain what a curse was. I 'spect I'm a very queer +girl, and I didn't really keep my whole word. I said positive and +plain that I would take a basket of apples to Dan, and go and sit with +him. I did take the apples, but I didn't go in and sit with him. Oh, +dear, I'll have to go back by the churchyard. I hope Micah Sorrel +won't be about. I shouldn't like to see him, he must be shrunk up so +awful by now. Come along, pony darling, we'll soon be back home +again." + +Sibyl lightly touched the pony's ears with a tiny whip which Lord +Grayleigh had given her. He whisked his head indignantly at the motion +and broke into a trot, the trot became a canter, and the canter a +gallop. + +Sibyl laughed aloud in her enjoyment. They were now close to the +churchyard. The sun was getting near the horizon, but still there was +plenty of light. + +"A little faster, as we are passing the churchyard, pony pet," said +Sybil, and she bent towards her steed and again touched him, nothing +more than a feather touch, on his arched neck. But pony was spirited, +and had endured too much stabling, and was panting for exercise; and, +just at that moment, turning abruptly round a corner came a man waving +a red flag. He was followed by a procession of school children, all +shouting and racing. The churchyard was in full view. + +Sibyl laughed with a sense of relief when she saw the procession. +She would not be alone as she passed the churchyard, and doubtless +Micah Sorrel would be all too wise to make his appearance, but the +next instant she gave a cry of alarm, for the pony first swerved +violently, and then rushed off at full gallop. The red flag had +startled him, and the children's shouts were the final straw. + +"Not quite so fast, darling," cried Sibyl; "a little slower, pet." + +But pet and darling was past all remonstrances on the part of his +little mistress. He flew on, having clearly made up his mind to run +away from the red flag and the shouting children to the other end of +the earth. In vain Sibyl jerked the reins and pulled and pulled. Her +small face was white as death; her little arms seemed almost wrenched +from their sockets. She kept her seat bravely. Someone driving a +dog-cart was coming to meet her. A voice called-- + +"Hullo! Stop, for goodness' sake; don't turn the corner. Stop! Stop!" + +Sibyl heard the voice. She looked wildly ahead. She had no more power +to stop the nameless pony than the earth has power to pause as it +turns on its axis. The next instant the corner was reached; all seemed +safe, when, with a sudden movement, the pony dashed madly forward, and +Sibyl felt herself falling, she did not know where. There was an +instant of intense and violent pain, stars shone before her eyes, and +then everything was lost in blessed unconsciousness. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +On a certain morning in the middle of July the _Gaika_ with Ogilvie on +board entered the Brisbane River. He had risen early, as was his +custom, and was now standing on deck. The lascars were still busy +washing the deck. He went past them, and leaning over the taffrail +watched the banks of low-lying mangroves which grew on either side of +the river. The sun had just risen, and transformed the scene. Ogilvie +raised his hat, and pushed the hair from his brow. His face had +considerably altered, it looked worn and old. His physical health had +not improved, notwithstanding the supposed benefit of a long sea +voyage. + +A man whose friendship he had made on board, and whose name was +Harding, came up just then, and spoke to him. + +"Well, Ogilvie," he cried, "we part very soon, but I trust we may meet +again. I shall be returning to England in about three months from now. +When do you propose to go back?" + +"I cannot quite tell," answered Ogilvie. "It depends on how soon my +work is over; the sooner the better, as far as I am concerned." + +"You don't look too well," said his friend. "Can I get anything for +you, fetch your letters, or anything of that sort?" + +"I do not expect letters," was Ogilvie's answer; "there may be one or +two cables. I shall find out at the hotel." + +Harding said something further. Ogilvie replied in an abstracted +manner. He was thinking of Sibyl. It seemed to him that the little +figure was near him, and the little spirit strangely in touch with his +own. Of all people in the world she was the one he cared least to give +his thoughts to just at that moment. + +"And yet I am doing it for her," he muttered to himself. "I must go +through with it; but while I am about it I want to forget her. My work +lies before me--that dastardly work which is to stain my character and +blemish my honor; but there is no going back now. Sibyl was unprovided +for, and I have an affection of the heart which may end my days at any +moment. For her sake I had no other course open to me. Now I shall not +allow my conscience to speak again." + +He made an effort to pull himself together, and as the big liner +gradually neared the quay, he spoke in cheerful tones to his +fellow-passengers. Just as he passed down the gangway, and landed on +the quay, he heard a voice exclaim suddenly-- + +"Mr. Ogilvie, I believe?" + +He turned, and saw a small, dapper-looking man, in white drill and a +cabbage-tree hat, standing by his side. + +"That is my name," replied Ogilvie; "and yours?" + +"I am Messrs. Spielmann's agent, and my name is Rycroft. I had +instructions to meet you, and guessed who you were from the +description given to me. I hope you had a good voyage." + +"Pretty well," answered Ogilvie; "but I must get my luggage together. +Where are you staying?" + +"At the Waharoo Hotel. I took the liberty to book you a room. Shall we +go up soon and discuss business; we have no time to lose?" + +"As you please," said Ogilvie. "Will you wait here? I will return +soon." + +Within half an hour the two men were driving in the direction of the +hotel. Rycroft had engaged a bedroom and private sitting-room for +Ogilvie. He ordered lunch, and, after they had eaten, suggested that +they should plunge at once into business. + +"That is quite to my desire," said Ogilvie. "I want to get what is +necessary through, in order to return home as soon as possible. It was +inconvenient my leaving England just now, but Lord Grayleigh made it a +condition that I should not delay an hour in examining the mine." + +"If he wishes to take up this claim, he is right," answered Rycroft, +in a grave voice. "I may as well say at once, Mr. Ogilvie, that your +coming out is the greatest possible relief to us all. The syndicate +ought to do well, and your name on the report is a guarantee of +success. My proposal is that we should discuss matters a little +to-day, and start early to-morrow by the _Townville_ to Rockhampton. +We can then go by rail to Grant's Creek Station, which is only eight +miles from the mine. There we can do our business, and finally return +here to draw up the report." + +"And how long will all this take?" asked Ogilvie. + +"If we are lucky, we ought to be back here within a month." + +"You have been over the mine, of course, yourself, Mr. Rycroft?" + +"Yes; I only returned to Brisbane a week ago." + +"And what is your personal opinion?" + +"There is, beyond doubt, alluvial gold. It is a bit refractory, but +the washings panned out from five to six ounces to the ton." + +"So I was told in England; but, about the vein underneath? Alluvial is +not dependable as a continuance. It is the vein we want to strike. +Have you bored?" + +"Yes, one shaft." + +"Any result?" + +"That is what your opinion is needed to decide," said his companion. +As Rycroft spoke, the corners of his mouth hardened, and he looked +fixedly at Ogilvie. He knew perfectly well why Ogilvie had come from +England to assay the mine, and this last question took him somewhat by +surprise. + +Ogilvie was silent. After a moment he jumped up impatiently. + +"I may as well inquire for any letters or cables that are waiting for +me," he said. + +Rycroft lit his pipe and went out. He had never seen Philip Ogilvie +before, and was surprised at his general appearance, and also at his +manner. + +"Why did they send him out?" he muttered. "Sensitive, and with a +conscience: not the sort of man to care to do dirty work; but perhaps +Grayleigh was right. If I am not much mistaken, he will do it all the +same." + +"I shall make my own pile out of this," he thought. He returned to the +hotel later on, and the two men spent the evening in anxious +consultation. The next day they started for Rockhampton, and late in +the afternoon of the fourth day reached their destination. + +The mine lay in a valley which had once been the bed of some +prehistoric river, but was now reduced to a tiny creek. On either +side towered the twin Lombard peaks, from which the mine was to take +its name. For a mile on either side of the creek the country was +fairly open, being dotted with clumps of briggalow throwing their dark +shadows across the plain. + +Beyond them, where the slope became steep, the dense scrub began. This +clothed the two lofty peaks to their summits. The spot was a +beautiful one, and up to the present had been scarcely desecrated by +the hand of man. + +"Here we are," said Rycroft, "here lies the gold." He pointed to the +bed of the creek. "Here is our overseer's hut, and he has engaged men +for our purpose. This is our hut, Ogilvie. I hope you don't mind +sharing it with me." + +"Not in the least," replied Ogilvie. "We shall not begin operations +until the morning, shall we? I should like to walk up the creek." + +Rycroft made a cheerful answer, and Ogilvie started off alone. He +scarcely knew why he wished to take this solitary walk, for he knew +well that the die was cast. When he had accepted Lord Grayleigh's +check for ten thousand pounds he had burnt his boats, and there was no +going back. + +"Time enough for repentance in another world," he muttered under his +breath. "All I have to do at present is to stifle thought. It ought +not to be difficult to go forward," he muttered, with a bitter smile, +"the downhill slope is never difficult." + +The work of boring was to commence on the following morning, and the +camp was made close to the water hole beneath some tall gum trees. +Rycroft, who was well used to camping, prepared supper for the two. +The foreman's camp was about a hundred yards distant. + +As Ogilvie lay down to sleep that night he had a brief, sharp attack +of the agony which had caused him alarm a couple of months ago. It +reminded him in forcible language that his own time on earth was in +all probability brief; but, far from feeling distressed on this +account, he hugged the knowledge to his heart that he had provided for +Sibyl, and that she at least would never want. During the night which +followed, however, he could not sleep. Spectre after spectre of his +past life rose up before him in the gloom. He saw now that ever since +his marriage the way had been paved for this final act of crime. The +extravagances which his wife had committed, and which he himself had +not put down with a firm hand, had led to further extravagances on his +part. They had lived from the first beyond their means. Money +difficulties had always dogged his footsteps, and now the only way +out was by a deed of sin which might ruin thousands. + +"But the child--the child!" he thought; something very like a sob rose +to his lips. Toward morning, however, he forced his thoughts into +other channels, drew his blanket tightly round him, and fell into a +long, deep sleep. + +When he awoke the foreman and his men were already busy. They began to +bore through the alluvial deposit in several directions, and Ogilvie +and Rycroft spent their entire time in directing these operations. It +would be over a fortnight's work at least before Ogilvie could come to +any absolute decision as to the true value of the mine. Day after day +went quickly by, and the more often he inspected the ore submitted to +him the more certain was Ogilvie that the supposed rich veins were a +myth. He said little as he performed his daily task, and Rycroft +watched his face with anxiety. + +Rycroft was a hard-headed man, troubled by no qualms of conscience, +anxious to enrich himself, and rather pleased than otherwise at the +thought of fooling thousands of speculators in many parts of the +world. The only thing that caused him fear was the possibility that +when the instant came, Ogilvie would not take the final leap. + +"Nevertheless, I believe he will," was Rycroft's final comment; +"men of his sort go down deeper and fall more desperately than +harder-headed fellows like myself. When a man has a conscience his +fall is worse, if he does fall, than if he had none. But why does a +man like Ogilvie undertake this sort of work? He must have a motive +hidden from any of us. Oh, he'll tumble safe enough when the moment +comes, but if he doesn't break his heart in that fall, I am much +mistaken in my man." + +Four shafts had been cut and levels driven in many directions with +disappointing results. It was soon all too plain that the ores were +practically valueless, though the commencement of each lode looked +fairly promising. + +After a little over a fortnight's hard work it was decided that it was +useless to proceed. + +"There is nothing more to be done, Mr. Ogilvie," said Rycroft, as the +two men sat over their supper together. "For six months the alluvial +will yield about six ounces to the ton. After that"--he paused and +looked full at the grim, silent face of the man opposite him. + +"After that?" said Ogilvie. He compressed his lips the moment he +uttered the words. + +Rycroft jerked his thumb significantly over his left shoulder by way +of answer. + +"You mean that we must see this butchery of the innocents through," +said Ogilvie. + +"I see no help for it," replied Rycroft. "We will start back to +Brisbane to-morrow, and when we get there draw up the report; I had +better attend to that part of the business, of course under your +superintendence. We must both sign it. But first had we not better +cable to Grayleigh? He must have expected to hear from us before now. +He can lay our cable before the directors, and then things can be put +in train; the report can follow by the first mail." + +"I shall take the report back with me," said Ogilvie. + +"Better not," answered his companion, "best trust Her Majesty's mails. +It might so happen that you would lose it." As Rycroft spoke a crafty +look came into his eyes. + +"Let us pack our traps," said Ogilvie, rising. + +"The sooner we get out of this the better." + +The next morning early they left the solitude, the neighborhood of the +lofty peaks and the desecrated earth beneath. They reached Brisbane in +about four days, and put up once more at the Waharoo Hotel. There the +real business for which all this preparation had been made commenced. +Rycroft was a past master in drawing up reports of mines, and Ogilvie +now helped him with a will. He found a strange pleasure in doing his +work as carefully as possible. He no longer suffered from qualms of +conscience. The mine would work really well for six months. During +that time the promoters would make their fortunes. Afterward--the +deluge. But that mattered very little to Ogilvie in his present state +of mind. + +"If I suffer as I have done lately from this troublesome heart of mine +I shall have gone to my account before six months," thought the man; +"the child will be provided for, and no one will ever know." + +The report was a plausible and highly colored one. + +It was lengthy in detail, and prophesied a brilliant future for +Lombard Deeps. Ogilvie and Rycroft, both assayers of knowledge and +experience, declared that they had carefully examined the lodes, that +they had struck four veins of rich ore yielding, after crushing, an +average of six ounces to the ton, and that the extent and richness of +the ore was practically unlimited. + +They spent several days over this document, and at last it was +finished. + +"I shall take the next mail home," said Ogilvie, standing up after he +had read his own words for the twentieth time. + +"Sign first," replied Rycroft. He pushed the paper across to Ogilvie. + +"Yes, I shall go to-morrow morning," continued Ogilvie. "The _Sahara_ +sails to-morrow at noon?" + +"I believe so; but sign, won't you?" + +Ogilvie took up his pen; he held it suspended as he looked again at +his companion. + +"I shall take a berth on board at once," he said. + +"All right, old chap, but sign first." + +Ogilvie was about to put his signature to the bottom of the document, +when suddenly, without the least warning, a strange giddiness, +followed by intolerable pain, seized him. It passed off, leaving him +very faint. He raised his hand to his brow and looked around him in a +dazed way. + +"What is wrong," asked Rycroft; "are you ill?" + +"I suffer from this sort of thing now and then," replied Ogilvie, +bringing out his words in short gasps. "Brandy, please." + +Rycroft sprang to a side table, poured out a glass of brandy, and +brought it to Ogilvie. + +"You look ghastly," he said; "drink." + +Ogilvie raised the stimulant to his lips. He took a few sips, and the +color returned to his face. + +"Now sign," said Rycroft again. + +"Where is the pen?" asked Ogilvie. + +He was all too anxious now to take the fatal plunge. His signature, +firm and bold, was put to the document. He pushed it from him and +stood up. Rycroft hastily added his beneath that of Ogilvie's. + +"Now our work is done," cried Rycroft, "and Her Majesty's mail does +the rest. By the way, I cabled a brilliant report an hour back. +Grayleigh seemed anxious. There have been ominous reports in some of +the London papers." + +"This will set matters right," said Ogilvie. "Put it in an envelope. +If I sail to-morrow, I may as well take it myself." + +"Her Majesty's mail would be best," answered Rycroft. "You can see +Grayleigh almost as soon as he gets the report. Remember, I am +responsible for it as well as you, and it would be best for it to go +in the ordinary way." As he spoke, he stretched out his hand, took the +document and folded it up. + +Just at this moment there came a tap at the door. Rycroft cried, "Come +in," and a messenger entered with a cablegram. + +"For Mr. Ogilvie," he said. + +"From Grayleigh, of course," said Rycroft, "how impatient he gets! +Wait outside," he continued to the messenger. + +The man withdrew, and Ogilvie slowly opened the telegram. Rycroft +watched him as he read. He read slowly, and with no apparent change of +feature. The message was short, but when his eyes had travelled to +the end, he read from the beginning right through again. Then, without +the slightest warning, and without even uttering a groan, the flimsy +paper fluttered from his hand, he tumbled forward, and lay in an +unconscious heap on the floor. + +Rycroft ran to him. He took a certain interest in Ogilvie, but above +all things on earth at that moment he wanted to get the document which +contained the false report safely into the post. Before he attempted +to restore the stricken man, he took up the cablegram and read the +contents. It ran as follows:-- + + _"Sibyl has had bad fall from pony. Case hopeless. Come home + at once."_ + +"So Sibyl, whoever Sibyl may be, is at the bottom of Ogilvie's fall," +thought Rycroft. "Poor chap! he has got a fearful shock. Best make all +safe. I must see things through." + +Without an instant's hesitation Rycroft took the already signed +document, thrust it into an envelope, directed it in full and stamped +it. Then he went to the telegraph messenger who was still waiting +outside. + +"No answer to the cable, but take this at once to the post-office and +register it," he said; "here is money--you can keep the change." + +The man departed on his errand, carrying the signed document. + +Rycroft now bent over Ogilvie. There was a slightly blue tinge round +his lips, but the rest of his face was white and drawn. + +"Looks like death," muttered Rycroft. He unfastened Ogilvie's collar +and thrust his hand beneath his shirt. He felt the faint, very faint +beat of the heart. + +"Still living," he murmured, with a sigh of relief. He applied the +usual restoratives. In a few moments Ogilvie opened his eyes. + +"What has happened?" he said, looking round him in a dazed way. "Oh, I +remember, I had a message from London." + +"Yes, old fellow, don't speak for a moment." + +"I must get back at once; the child----" + +"All right, you shall go in the _Sahara_ to-morrow." + +"But the document," said Ogilvie, "it--isn't needed; I want it back." + +"Don't trouble about it now." + +Ogilvie staggered to his feet. + +"You don't understand. I did it because--because of one who will not +need it. I want it back." + +"Too late," said Rycroft, then. "That document is already in the post. +Come, you must pull yourself together for the sake of Sibyl, whoever +she is." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +There was a pretty white room at Silverbel in which lay a patient +child. She lay flat on her back just as she had lain ever since the +accident. Her bed was moved into the wide bay window, and from there +she could look out at the lovely garden and at the shining Thames just +beyond. From where she lay she could also see the pleasure boats and +the steamers crowded with people as they went up and down the busy +river, and it seemed to her that her thoughts followed those boats +which went toward the sea. It seemed to her further that her spirit +entered one of the great ships at the mouth of the Thames and crossed +in it the boundless deep, and found a lonely man at the other side of +the world into whose heart she crept. + +"I am quite cosy there," she said to herself, "for father's perfect +heart is big enough to hold me, however much I suffer, and however sad +I am." + +Not that Sibyl was sad, nor did she suffer. After the first shock she +had no pain of any sort, and there never was a more tranquil little +face than hers as it lay on its daintily frilled pillow and looked out +at the shining river. + +There was no part of the beautiful house half so beautiful as the room +given up to her use. It might well and aptly be called the Chamber of +Peace. Indeed, Miss Winstead, who was given to sentimentalities and +had a poetic turn of mind, had called Sibyl's chamber by this title. + +From the very first the child never murmured. She who had been so +active, like a butterfly in her dancing motion, in her ceaseless +grace, lay on her couch uncomplaining. And as to pain, she had +scarcely any, and what little she had grew less day by day. The great +specialist from London said that this was the worst symptom of the +case, and established the fact beyond doubt that the spine was fatally +injured. It was a question of time. How long a time no one could quite +tell, but the great doctors shook their heads over the child, and an +urgent cablegram was sent to Ogilvie to hurry home without a moment's +delay. + +But, though all her friends knew it, no one told Sibyl herself that +she might never walk again nor dance over the smoothly kept lawns, nor +mount the nameless pony, nor carry apples to Dan Scott. In her +presence people thought it their duty to be cheerful, and she was +always cheerful herself. After the first week or so, during which she +was more or less stunned and her head felt strangely heavy, she liked +to talk and laugh and ask questions. As far as her active little +brain went there was but little difference in her, except that now her +voice was low, and sometimes it was difficult to follow the rapid, +eager words. But the child's eyes were quite as clear and beautiful as +ever, and more than ever now there visited them that strange, far-away +look and that quick, comprehending gaze. + +"I want nothing on earth but father, the touch of father's hand and +the look in his face," she said several times; and then invariably her +own eyes would follow the steamers and the boats as they went down the +river toward the sea, and she would smile as the remembrance of the +big ships came to her. + +"Miss Winstead," she said on one of these occasions, "I go in my own +special big ship every night across the sea to father. I sleep in +father's heart every night, that's why I don't disturb you, and why +the hours seem so short." + +Miss Winstead had long ceased to scold Sibyl, and nurse was now never +cross to the little girl, and Mrs. Ogilvie was to all appearance the +most tender, devoted mother on earth. When the child had been brought +back after her accident Mrs. Ogilvie had not yet returned from town. +She had meant to spend the night at the house in Belgrave Square. An +urgent message, however, summoned her, and she arrived at Silverbel +about midnight. She lost all self-control when she saw the beautiful +unconscious child, and went into such violent hysterics that the +doctors had to take her from the room. + +But this state of grief passed, and she was able, as she said to +herself, to crush her mother's heart in her breast and superintend +everything for Sibyl's comfort. It was Mrs. Ogilvie herself who, by +the doctor's orders, sent off the cablegram which her husband received +at the very moment of his fall from the paths of honor. It was she who +worded it, and she thought of nothing at that moment but the child who +was dying in the beautiful house. For the time she quite forgot her +dreams of wealth and of greatness and of worldly pleasure. Nay, more, +she felt just then that she could give up everything if only Sibyl +might be saved. Mrs. Ogilvie also blamed herself very bitterly for +forgetting her promise to the child. She was indeed quite inconsolable +for several days, and at last had a nervous attack and was obliged to +retire to her bed. + +There came an answering cable from Ogilvie to say that he was starting +on board the _Sahara_, and would be in England as quickly as the great +liner could bring him across the ocean. But by the doctor's orders +the news that her father was coming back to her was not told to Sibyl. + +"Something may detain him; at any rate the suspense will be bad for +her," the doctors said, and as she did not fret, and seemed quite +contented with the strange fancy that she crossed the sea at night to +lie in his arms, there was no need to give her any anxiety with regard +to the matter. + +But as the days went on Mrs. Ogilvie's feelings, gradually but surely, +underwent a sort of revulsion. For the first week she was frantic, +ill, nervous, full of intense self-reproach. But during the second +week, when Sibyl's state of health assumed a new phase, when she +ceased to moan in her sleep, and to look troubled, and only lay very +still and white, Mrs. Ogilvie took it into her head that after all the +doctors had exaggerated the symptoms. The child was by no means so ill +as they said. She went round to her different friends and aired these +views. When they came to see her she aired them still further. + +"Doctors are so often mistaken," she said, "I don't believe for a +single instant that the dear little thing will not be quite as well as +ever in a short time. I should not be the least surprised if she were +able to walk by the time Philip comes back. I do sincerely hope such +will be the case, for Philip makes such a ridiculous fuss about her, +and will go through all the apprehension and misery which nearly +wrecked my mother's heart. He will believe everything those doctors +have said of the child." + +The neighbors, glad to see Mrs. Ogilvie cheerful once more, rather +agreed with her in these views, that is, all who did not go to see +Sibyl. But those who went into her white room and looked at the sweet +patient's face shook their heads when they came out again. It was +those neighbors who had not seen the child who quoted instances of +doctors who were mistaken in their diagnoses, and Mrs. Ogilvie derived +great pleasure and hope from their conversation. + +Gradually, but surely, the household settled down into its new life. +The Chamber of Peace in the midst of the house diffused a peaceful +atmosphere everywhere else. Sibyl's weak little laugh was a sound to +treasure up and remember, and her words were still full of fun, and +her eyes often brimmed over with laughter. No one ever denied her +anything now. She could see whoever she fancied, even to old Scott, +who hobbled upstairs in his stockings, and came on tiptoe into the +room, and stood silently at the foot of the white bed. + +"I won't have the curse of the poor, I did my best," said Sibyl, +looking full at the old man. + +"Yes, you did your best, dearie," he replied. His voice was husky, +and he turned his head aside and looked out of the window and coughed +in a discreet manner. He was shocked at the change in the radiant +little face, but he would not allow his emotion to get the better of +him. + +"The blessing of the poor rests on you, dear little Miss," he said +then, "the blessing of the poor and the fatherless. It was a +fatherless lad you tried to comfort. God bless you for ever and ever." + +Sibyl smiled when he said this, and then she gazed full at him in that +solemn comprehending way which often characterized her. When he went +out of the room she lay silent for a time; then she turned to nurse +and said with emphasis: + +"I like old Scott, he's a very religious man." + +"That he is, darling," replied nurse. + +"Seems to me I'm getting religious too," continued Sibyl. "It's 'cos +of Lord Jesus, I 'spect. He is kind to me, is Lord Jesus. He takes me +to father every night." + +The days went by, and Mrs. Ogilvie, who was recovering her normal +spirits hour by hour, now made up her mind that Sibyl's recovery was +merely a question of time, that she would soon be as well as ever, and +as this was the case, surely it seemed a sad pity that the bazaar, +which had been postponed, should not take place. + +"The bazaar will amuse the child, besides doing a great deal of good +to others," thought Mrs. Ogilvie. + +No sooner had this idea come to her, than she found her +engagement-book, and looked up several items. The bazaar had of course +been postponed from the original date, but it would be easy to have it +on the 24th of September. The 24th was in all respects a suitable +date, and those people who had not gone abroad or to Scotland would be +glad to spend a week in the beautiful country house. It was such a sad +pity, thought Mrs. Ogilvie, not to use the new furniture to the best +advantage, not to sleep in the new beds, not to make use of all the +accessories which had cost so much money, or rather which had cost so +many debts, for not a scrap of the furniture was paid for, and the +house itself was only held on sufferance. + +"It will be doing such a good work," said Mrs. Ogilvie to herself. "I +shall be not only entertaining my friends and amusing dear little +Sibyl, but I shall be collecting money for an excellent charity." + +In the highest spirits she ran upstairs and burst into her little +daughter's room. + +"Oh, Mummy," said Sibyl. She smiled and said faintly, "Come and kiss +me, Mummy." + +Mrs. Ogilvie was all in white and looked very young and girlish and +pretty. She tripped up to the child, bent over her and kissed her. + +"My little white rose," she said, "you must get some color back into +your cheeks." + +"Oh, color don't matter," replied Sibyl. "I'm just as happy without +it." + +"But you are quite out of pain, my little darling?" + +"Yes, Mummy." + +"And you like lying here in your pretty window?" + +"Yes, mother darling." + +"You are not weary of lying so still?" + +Sibyl laughed. + +"It is funny," she said, "I never thought I could lie so very still. I +used to get a fidgety sort of pain all down me if I stayed still more +than a minute at a time, but now I don't want to walk. My legs are too +heavy. I feel heavy all down my legs and up to the middle of my back, +but that is all. See, Mummy, how nicely I can move my hands. Nursie is +going to give me some dolls to dress." + +"What a splendid idea, Sib!" said Mrs. Ogilvie, "you shall dress some +dolls for mother's bazaar." + +"Are you going to have it after all?" cried Sibyl, her eyes +brightening. "Are the big-wigs coming?" + +"Yes, pet, and you shall help me. You shall dress pretty little dolls +which the big-wigs shall buy--Lord Grayleigh and the rest." + +"I like Lord Grayleigh," replied Sibyl. "I am glad you are going to +have the bazaar, Mummy." + +Mrs. Ogilvie laughed with glee. She seated herself in a comfortable +rocking chair near the window and chatted volubly. Sibyl was really a +wonderfully intelligent child. It was delightful to talk to her. There +was no narrowness about Sibyl. She had quite a breadth of view and of +comprehension for her tender years. + +"My dear little girl," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "I am so glad you like the +idea. Perhaps by the day of the bazaar you will be well enough to come +downstairs and even to walk a little." + +Sibyl made no answer to this. After a moment's pause she said: + +"Do have the bazaar and let all the big-wigs come. I can watch them +from my bed. I can look out of the window and see everything--it will +be fun." + +Soon afterward Mrs. Ogilvie left the room. She met Miss Winstead on +the stairs. + +"Miss Winstead," she said, "I have just been sitting with the child. +She seems much better." + +"Do you think so?" replied Miss Winstead shortly. + +"I do. Why do you stare at me in that disapproving manner? You really +are all most unnatural. Who should know of the health of her child if +her own mother does not? The little darling is recovering fast--I +have just been having a most interesting talk with her. She would like +me to have the bazaar." + +"The bazaar!" echoed Miss Winstead. "Surely you don't mean to have it +here?" + +"Yes, here. The child is greatly interested. She would like me to have +it, and I am going to send out invitations at once. It will be held on +the 24th and 25th of the month." + +"I would not, if I were you," said Miss Winstead slowly. "You know +what the doctors have said." + +Mrs. Ogilvie first turned white, and then her face grew red and angry. + +"I don't believe a single word of what they say," she retorted with +some passion. "The child looks better every day. What the dear little +thing wants is rousing. The bazaar will do her no end of good. Mark my +words, Miss Winstead, we shall have Sibyl on her feet again by the +24th." + +"You forget," said Miss Winstead slowly, "the _Sahara_ is due in +England about that date. Mr. Ogilvie will be back. He will not be +prepared for--for what he has to see." + +"I know quite well that my husband will return about then, but I don't +understand what you mean by saying that he will not be prepared. +There will be nothing but joyful tidings to give him. The child nearly +herself and the bazaar at its height. Delightful! Now pray, my good +creature, don't croak any more; I must rush up to town this +afternoon--there is a great deal to see about." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Lord Grayleigh was so anxious about the Syndicate that he would not go +to Scotland for the shooting as usual. Later on he would attend to his +pleasures, but not now. Later on when Ogilvie had returned, and the +company was finally floated, and the shares taken up, he would relax +his efforts, but just at present he was engaged over the biggest thing +of his life. He was cheerful, however, and full of hope. He even +thanked Providence for having aided all his exertions. So blinded was +he by the glare of avarice and the desire for adding wealth to wealth +that Ogilvie's cablegram set every anxiety at rest. He even believed +that the mine was as full of gold as the cablegram seemed to indicate. +Yes, everything was going well. The Lombard Deeps Company would be +floated in a short time, the Board of Directors was complete. + +Ogilvie's cablegram was shown to a few of the longest-headed men in +the financial world, and his report was anxiously looked for. Rumors +carefully worded got by degrees into the public press, the ominous +whispers were absolutely silenced: all, in short, was ripe for action. +Nothing definite, however, could be done until the full report of the +mine arrived. + +Lord Grayleigh was fond of saying to himself: "From the tone of +Ogilvie's cablegram the mine must be all that we desire, the ore rich, +the veins good, the extent of the wealth unlimited. It will be nice," +Lord Grayleigh reflected, "to be rich and also honest at the same +time." He was a man with many kindly impulses, but he had never been +much troubled by the voice of conscience. So he went backward and +forward to his lovely home in the country, and played with his +children, and enjoyed life generally. + +On a certain day in the first week of September he received a letter +from Mrs. Ogilvie; it ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR LORD GRAYLEIGH, + + "You have not, I hope, forgotten your promise to be, as + Sibyl said, one of the big-wigs at my bazaar." + +"But I _had_ forgotten it," muttered Grayleigh to himself. "That woman +is, in my opinion, a poor, vain, frivolous creature. Why did she +hamper Ogilvie with that place in his absence? Now, forsooth, she must +play at charity. When that sort of woman does that sort of thing she +is contemptible." + +He lowered his eyes again, and went on reading the letter. + + "I was obliged to postpone the original date," continued his + correspondent, "but I have quite fixed now that the bazaar + shall be held at our new lovely place on the 24th. You, I + know, will not disappoint me. You will be sure to be + present. I hope to clear a large sum for the Home for + Incurables at Watleigh. Have you heard how badly that poor + dear charity needs funds just now? If you hesitate for a + moment to come and help, just cast a thought on the poor + sufferers there, the children, who will never know the + blessing of strength again. Think what it is to lighten the + burden of their last days, and do not hesitate to lend your + hand to so worthy a work. I have advertised you in the + papers as our principal supporter and patron, and the sooner + we see you at Silverbel the better. + + "With kind regards, I remain, + "Yours sincerely, + "MILDRED OGILVIE. + + "P.S.--By the way, have you heard that our dear little Sibyl + has met with rather a nasty accident? She fell off that pony + you gave her. I must be frank, Lord Grayleigh, and say that + I never did approve of the child's riding, particularly in + her father's absence. She had a very bad tumble, and hurt + her back, and has since been confined to her couch. I have + had the best advice, and the doctors have been very silly + and gloomy in their reports. Now, for my part, I have not + the slightest faith in doctors, they are just as often + proved wrong as right. The child is getting much better, but + she is still, of course, confined to her bed. She would send + you her love if she knew I was writing." + +Lord Grayleigh let this letter drop on to the table beside him. He sat +quite still for a moment, then he lit a cigarette and began to pace +the room. After a pause he took up Mrs. Ogilvie's letter and re-read +the postscript. + +After having read it a second time he rang his bell sharply. A servant +appeared. + +"I am going to town by the next train; have the trap round," was +Grayleigh's direction. + +He did go to town by the next train, his children seeing him off. + +"Where are you going, father?" called out Freda. "You promised you +would take us for a long, long drive this afternoon. Oh, this is +disappointing. Are you coming back at all to-night?" + +"I don't think so, Freda. By the way, have you heard that your little +friend Sibyl has met with an accident?" + +"Has she?" replied Freda. "I am very sorry. I like Sibyl very much." + +"So do I!" said Gus, coming up, "she's the best sort of girl I ever +came across, not like an ordinary girl--quite plucky, you know. What +sort of accident did she have, father?" + +"I don't know; I am going to see. I am afraid it has something to do +with the pony I gave her. Well, good-by, youngsters; if I don't return +by the last train to-night, I'll be back early to-morrow, and we can +have our drive then." + +Lord Grayleigh drove at once to Victoria Station, and took the next +train to Richmond. It was a two-mile drive from there to Silverbel. He +arrived at Silverbel between five and six in the afternoon. Mrs. +Ogilvie was pacing about her garden, talking to two ladies who had +come to call on her. When she saw Lord Grayleigh driving up the +avenue, she uttered a cry of delight, apologized to her friends, and +ran to meet him--both her hands extended. + +"How good of you, how more than good of you," she said. "This is just +what I might have expected from you, Lord Grayleigh. You received my +letter and you have come to answer it in person." + +"I have come, as you say, to answer it in person. How is Sibyl?" + +"Oh, better. I mean she is about the same, but she really is going on +very nicely. She does not suffer the slightest pain, and----" + +"Can I see her?" + +"Of course you can. I will take you to her. Dear little thing, she +will be quite delighted, you are a prime favorite of hers. But first, +what about the bazaar? Ah, naughty man! you need not think you are +going to get out of it, for you are, as Sibyl says, one of the +big-wigs. We cannot do without big-wigs at our bazaar." + +"Well, Mrs. Ogilvie, I will come if I can. I cannot distinctly promise +at the present moment, for I may possibly have to go to Scotland; but +the chances are that I shall be at Grayleigh Manor, and if so I can +come." + +Mrs. Ogilvie was walking with Lord Grayleigh down one of the corridors +which led to the Chamber of Peace while this conversation was going +on. As he uttered the last words she flung open the door. + +"One of the big-wigs, Sibyl, come to see you," she said, in a playful +voice. + +Lord Grayleigh saw a white little face with very blue eyes turned +eagerly in his direction. He did not know why, but as he looked at the +child something clutched at his heart with a strange fear. He turned +to Mrs. Ogilvie and said, + +"Rest assured that I will come." He then went over, bent toward Sibyl +and took her little white hand. + +"I am sorry to see you like this," he said. "What has happened to you, +my little girl?" + +"Oh, nothing much," answered Sibyl, "I just had a fall, but I am quite +all right now and I am awfully happy. Did you really come to see me? +It is good of you. May I talk to Lord Grayleigh all by myself, mother +darling?" + +"Certainly, dear. Lord Grayleigh, you cannot imagine how we spoil this +little woman now that she is lying on her back. I suppose it is +because she is so good and patient. She never murmurs, and she enjoys +herself vastly. Is not this a pretty room?" + +"Beautiful," replied Lord Grayleigh, in an abstracted tone. He sank +into a chair near the window, and glanced out at the smoothly kept +lawn, at the flower-beds with their gay colors, and at the silver +Thames flowing rapidly by. Then he looked again at the child. The +child's grave eyes were fixed on his face; there was a faint smile +round the lips but the eyes were very solemn. + +"I will come back again, presently," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "By the way, +Sib darling, Lord Grayleigh is coming to our bazaar, the bazaar for +which you are dressing dolls." + +"Nursie is dressing them," replied Sibyl in a weak voice--the mother +did not notice how weak it was, but Lord Grayleigh did. "It somehow +tires me to work. I 'spect I'm not very strong, but I'll be better +perhaps to-morrow. Nursie is dressing them, and they are quite +beautiful." + +"Well, I'll come back soon; you mustn't tire her, Lord Grayleigh, and +you and I have a great deal to talk over when you do come downstairs." + +"I must return to town by the next train," said Lord Grayleigh; but +Mrs. Ogilvie did not hear him. She went quickly away to join the +friends who were waiting for her in the sunny garden. + +"Lord Grayleigh has come," she said. "He is quite devoted to Sibyl; he +is sitting with her for a few minutes; the child worships him. +Afterward he and I must have a rather business-like conversation." + +"Then we will go, dear Mrs. Ogilvie," said both ladies. + +"Thank you, dear friends; I hope you don't think I am sending you +away, but it is always my custom to speak plainly. Lord Grayleigh will +be our principal patron at the bazaar, and naturally I have much to +consult him about. I will drive over to-morrow to see you, Mrs. Le +Strange, and we can discuss still further the sort of stall you will +have." + +The ladies took their leave, and Mrs. Ogilvie paced up and down in +front of the house. She was restless, and presently a slight sense of +disappointment stole over her, for Lord Grayleigh was staying an +unconscionably long time in Sibyl's room. + +Sibyl and he were having what he said afterward was quite a straight +talk. + +"I am so glad you have come," said the little girl; "there are some +things you can tell me that no one else can. Have you heard from +father lately?" + +"I had a cablegram from him not long ago." + +"What's that?" + +"The same as a telegram; a cablegram is a message that comes across +the sea." + +"I understand," said Sibyl. She thought of her pretty fancy of the +phantom ships that took her night after night to the breast of her +father. + +"What are you thinking about?" said Lord Grayleigh. + +"Oh, about father, of course. When he sent you that message did he +tell you there was much gold in the mine?" + +"My dear child," said Lord Grayleigh, "what do you know about it?" + +"I know all about it," answered Sybil. "I am deeply interested, +deeply." + +"Well, my dear little girl, to judge from your father's message, the +mine is full of gold, quite full." + +"Up to the tip top?" + +"Yes, you can express it in that way if you like, up to the tip top +and down, nobody knows how deep, full of beautiful yellow gold, but +don't let us talk of these things any more. Tell me how you really +fell, and what that naughty pony did to you." + +"You must not scold my darling nameless pony, it was not his fault a +bit," said Sibyl. She turned first red and then whiter than usual. + +"Do you greatly mind if I _don't_ talk about it?" she asked in a voice +of sweet apology. "It makes me feel----" + +"How, dear?" + +"I don't know, only I get the up and down and round and round feel. It +was the feel I had when pony sprang; he seemed to spring into the air, +and I fell and fell and fell. I don't like to get the feel back, it is +so very round and round, you know." + +"We won't talk of it," said Lord Grayleigh; "what shall I do to amuse +you?" + +"Tell me more about father and the mine full of gold." + +"I have only just had the one cablegram, Sib, in which he merely +stated that the news with regard to the mine was good." + +"I am delighted," said Sibyl. "It's awfully good of Lord Jesus. Do you +know that I have been asking Lord Jesus to pile up the gold in the +mine. He can do anything, you know, and He has done it, you see. Isn't +it sweet and dear of Him? Oh, you don't know all He has done for me! +Don't you love Him very much indeed, Lord Grayleigh?" + +"Who, Sibyl?" + +"My Lord Jesus Christ, my beautiful Lord Jesus Christ." + +Lord Grayleigh bent and picked up a book which had fallen on the +carpet. He turned the conversation. The child's eyes, very grave and +very blue, watched him. She did not say anything further, but she +seemed to read the thought he wished to hide. He stood up, then he sat +down again. Sibyl had that innate tact which is born in some natures, +and always knew where to pause in her probings and questionings. + +"Now," she continued, after a pause, "dear Mr. and Mrs. Holman will be +rich." + +"Mr. and Mrs. Holman," said Lord Grayleigh; "who are they?" + +"They are my very own most special friends. They keep a toy-shop in +Greek Street, a back street near our house. Mrs. Holman is going to +buy a lot of gold out of the mine. I'll send her a letter to tell her +that she can buy it quick. You'll be sure to keep some of the gold for +Mrs. Holman, she is a dear old woman. You'll be quite sure to remember +her?" + +"Quite sure, Sibyl." + +"Hadn't you better make a note of it? Father always makes notes when +he wants to remember things. Have you got a note-book?" + +"In my pocket." + +"Please take it out and put down about Mrs. Holman and the gold out of +the mine." + +Lord Grayleigh produced a small note-book. + +"What do you wish me to say?" he inquired. + +"Put it this way," said Sibyl eagerly, "then you won't forget. Some of +the gold in the----" + +"Lombard Deeps Mine," supplied Lord Grayleigh. + +"Some of the gold in the Lombard Deeps Mine," repeated Sibyl, "to be +kept special for dear Mr. and Mrs. Holman. Did you put that? Did you +put _dear_ Mr. and Mrs. Holman?" + +"Just exactly as you have worded it, Sibyl." + +"Her address is number ten, Greek Street, Pimlico." + +The address being further added, Sibyl gave a sigh of satisfaction. + +"That is nice," she said, "that will make them happy. Mrs. Holman has +cried so often because of the dusty toys, and 'cos the children won't +come to her shop to buy. Some children are very mean; I don't like +some children a bit." + +"I am glad you're pleased about the Holmans, little woman." + +"Of course I am, and aren't you. Don't you like to make people happy?" + +Again Lord Grayleigh moved restlessly. + +"Have you any other notes for this book?" he said. + +"Of course I have. There's the one who wants to marry the other one. +I'm under a vow not to mention names, but they want to marry _so_ +badly, and they will in double quick time if there's gold in the mine. +Will you put in your note-book 'Gold to be kept for the one who wants +to marry the other,' will you, Lord Grayleigh?" + +"I have entered it," said Lord Grayleigh, suppressing a smile. + +"And mother, of course," continued Sibyl, "wants lots of money, and +there's my nurse, her eyes are failing, she would like enough gold to +keep her from mending stockings or doing any more fine darning, and +I'd like Watson to have some. Do you know, Lord Grayleigh, that Watson +is engaged to be married? He is really, truly." + +"I am afraid, Sibyl, I do not know who Watson is." + +"Don't you? How funny; he is our footman. I'm awfully fond of him. He +is full of the best impulses, is Watson, and he is engaged to a very +nice girl in the cookery line. Don't you think it's very sensible of +Watson to engage himself to a girl in the cookery line?" + +"I think it is thoroughly sensible, but now I must really go." + +"But you won't forget all the messages? You have put them all down in +your note-book. You won't forget any of the people who want gold out +of the Lombard Deeps?" + +"No, I'll be certain to remember every single one of them." + +"Then that's all right, and you'll come to darling mother's bazaar?" + +"I'll come." + +"I am so glad. You do make me happy. I like big-wigs awfully." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +A few days before the bazaar Lady Helen Douglas arrived at Silverbel. +She had returned from Scotland on purpose. A letter from Lord +Grayleigh induced her to do so. He wrote to Lady Helen immediately +after seeing Sibyl. + +"I don't like the child's look," he wrote; "I have not the least idea +what the doctors have said of her, but when I spoke on the subject to +her mother, she shirked it. There is not the least doubt that Mrs. +Ogilvie can never see a quarter of an inch beyond her own selfish +fancies. It strikes me very forcibly that the child is in a precarious +state. I can never forgive myself, for she met with the accident on +the pony I gave her. She likes you; go to her if you can." + +It so happened that by the very same post there had come an urgent +appeal from Mrs. Ogilvie. + +"If you cannot come to the bazaar," she wrote to Lady Helen, "it will +be a failure. Come you must. Your presence is essential, because you +are pretty and well born, and you will also act as a lure to another +person who can help me in various ways. I, of course, allude to our +mutual friend, Jim Rochester." + +Now Lady Helen, even with the attraction of seeing Mr. Rochester so +soon again, would not have put off a series of visits which she was +about to make, had not Lord Grayleigh's letter decided her. She +therefore arrived at Silverbel on the 22d of September, and was +quickly conducted to Sibyl's room. She had not seen Sibyl for a couple +of months. When last they had met, the child had been radiant with +health and spirits. She was radiant still, but that quick impulsive +life had been toned down to utter quiet. The lower part of the little +body was paralyzed, the paralysis was creeping gradually up and up. It +was but a question of time for the loving little heart to be still for +ever. + +Sibyl cried with delight when she saw Lady Helen. + +"Such a lot of big-wigs are coming to-morrow," she said, "but Lord +Grayleigh does not come until the day of the bazaar, so you are quite +the first. You'll come and see me very, very often, won't you?" + +"Of course I will, Sibyl. The fact is I have come on purpose to see +you. I should not have come to the bazaar but for you. Lord Grayleigh +wrote to me and said you were not well, and he thought you loved me, +little Sib, and that it would cheer you up to see me." + +"Oh, you are sweet," answered the child, "and I do, indeed I do love +you. But you ought to have come for the bazaar as well as for me. It +is darling mother's splendid work of charity. She wants to help a lot +of little sick children and sick grown up people: isn't it dear of +her?" + +"Well, I am interested in the bazaar," said Lady Helen, ignoring the +subject of Mrs. Ogilvie's noble action. + +"It is so inciting all about it," continued the little girl, "and I +can see the marquee quite splendidly from here, and mother flitting +about. Isn't mother pretty, isn't she quite sweet? She is going to +have the most lovely dress for the bazaar, a sort of silvery white; +she will look like an angel--but then she is an angel, isn't she, Lady +Helen?" + +Lady Helen bent and kissed Sibyl on her soft forehead. "You must not +talk too much and tire yourself," she said; "let me talk to you. I +have plenty of nice things to say." + +"Stories?" said Sibyl. + +"Yes, I will tell you stories." + +"Thank you; I do love 'em. Did you ever tell them to Mr. Rochester?" + +"I have not seen him lately." + +"You'll be married to him soon, I know you will." + +"We need not talk about that now, need we? I want to do something to +amuse you." + +"It's odd how weak my voice has grown," said Sibyl, with a laugh. +"Mother says I am getting better, and perhaps I am, only somehow I do +feel weak. Do you know, mother wanted me to dress dolls for her, but I +couldn't. Nursie did 'em. There's one big beautiful doll with wings; +Nurse made the wings, but she can't put them on right; will you put +them on proper, Lady Helen?" + +"I should like to," replied Lady Helen; "I have a natural aptitude for +dressing dolls." + +"The big doll with the wings is in that box over there. Take it out +and sit down by the sofa so that I can see you, and put the wings on +properly. There's plenty of white gauze and wire. I want you to make +the doll as like an angel as you can." + +Lady Helen commenced her pretty work. Sibyl watched her, not caring to +talk much now, for Lady Helen seemed too busy to answer. + +"It rests me to have you in the room," said the child, "you are like +this room. Do you know Miss Winstead has given it such a funny name." + +"What is that, Sibyl?" + +"She calls it the Chamber of Peace--isn't it sweet of her?" + +"The name is a beautiful one, and so is the room," answered Lady +Helen. + +"I do wish Mr. Rochester was here," was Sibyl's next remark. + +"He will come to the bazaar, dear." + +"And then, perhaps, I'll see him. I want to see him soon, I have +something I'd like to say." + +"What, darling?" + +"Something to you and to him. I want you both to be happy. I'm +tremendous anxious that you should both be happy, and I think--I +wouldn't like to say it to mother, for perhaps it will hurt her, but I +do fancy that, perhaps, I'm going to have wings, too, not like +dolly's, but real ones, and if I have them I might----" + +"What, darling?" + +"Fly away to my beautiful Lord Jesus. You don't know how I want to be +close to Him. I used to think that if I got into father's heart I +should be quite satisfied, but even that, even that is not like being +in the heart of Jesus. If my wings come I must go, Lady Helen. It will +be lovely to fly up, won't it, for perhaps some day I might get tired +of lying always flat on my back. Mother doesn't know, darling mother +doesn't guess, and I wouldn't tell her for all the wide world, for she +thinks I'm going to get quite well again, but one night, when she +thought I was asleep, I heard Nursie say to Miss Winstead, 'Poor +lamb, she'll soon want to run about again, but she never can, never.' +I shouldn't like to be always lying down flat, should you, Lady +Helen?" + +"No, darling, I don't think I should." + +"Well, there it is, you see, you wouldn't like it either. Of course I +want to see father again, but whatever happens he'll understand. Only +if my wings come I must fly off, and I want everyone to be happy +before I go." + +Lady Helen had great difficulty in keeping back her tears, for Sibyl +spoke in a perfectly calm, contented, almost matter-of-fact voice +which brought intense conviction with it. + +"So you must marry Mr. Rochester," she continued, "for you both love +each other so very much." + +"That is quite true," replied Lady Helen. + +Sibyl looked at her with dilated, smiling eyes. "The Lombard Deeps +Mine is full to the brim with gold," she said, in an excited voice. "I +know--Lord Grayleigh told me. He has it all wrote down in his +pocket-book, and you and Mr. Rochester are to have your share. When +you are both very, very happy you'll think of me, won't you?" + +"I can never forget you, my dear little girl. Kiss me, now--see! the +angel doll is finished." + +"Oh, isn't it lovely?" said the child, her attention immediately +distracted by this new interest. "Do take it down to mother. She's +dressing the stall where the dolls are to be sold; ask her to put the +angel doll at the head of all the other dolls. Take it to mother now. +I can watch from my window--do go at once." + +Lady Helen was glad of an excuse to leave the room. When she got into +the corridor outside she stopped for a moment, put her handkerchief to +her eyes, made a struggle to subdue her emotion, and then ran +downstairs. + +The great marquee was already erected on the lawn, and many of the +stall-holders were arranging their stalls and giving directions to +different workmen. Mrs. Ogilvie was flitting eagerly about. She was in +the highest spirits, and looked young and charming. + +"Sibyl sent you this," said Lady Helen. + +Mrs. Ogilvie glanced for a moment at the angel doll. + +"Oh, lay it down anywhere, please," she said in a negative tone. But +Lady Helen thought of the sweet blue eyes looking down on this scene +from the Chamber of Peace. She was not going to put the angel doll +down anywhere. + +"Please, Mrs. Ogilvie," she said, "you must take an interest in it." +There was something in her tone which arrested even Mrs. Ogilvie's +attention. + +"You must take a great interest in this doll," she continued. "Little +Sibyl thinks so much of it. Forgive me, Mrs. Ogilvie, I----" + +"Oh, what is it now," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "what can be the matter? +Really everyone who goes near Sibyl acts in the most extraordinary +way." She looked petulantly, as she spoke, into Lady Helen's agitated +face. + +"I cannot help thinking much of Sibyl," continued Lady Helen, "and I +am very--more than anxious about her. I am terribly grieved, for--I +think----" + +"You think what? Oh, please don't begin to be gloomy now. You have +only seen Sibyl for the first time since her accident. She is very +much better than she was at first. You cannot expect her to look quite +well all of a sudden." + +"But have you had the very best advice for her?" + +"I should rather think so. We had Sir Henry Powell down twice. +Everything has been done that could be done. It is merely a question +of time and rest. Time and rest will effect a perfect cure; at least, +that is my opinion." + +"But what is Sir Henry Powell's opinion?" + +"Don't ask me. I don't believe in doctors. The child is getting +better, I see it with my own eyes. It is merely a question of time." + +"Sibyl is getting well, but not in the way you think," replied Lady +Helen. She said the words with significance, and Mrs. Ogilvie felt her +heart throb for a moment with a sudden wild pain, but the next instant +she laughed. + +"I never knew anyone so gloomy," she said, "and you come to me with +your queer remarks just when I am distracted about the great bazaar. I +am almost sorry I asked you here, Lady Helen." + +"Well, at least take the doll--the child is looking at you," said Lady +Helen. "Kiss your hand to her; look pleased even if you are not +interested, and give me a promise, that I may take to her, that the +angel doll shall stand at the head of the doll stall. The child wishes +it; do not deny her wishes now." + +"Oh, take her any message you like, only leave me, please, for the +present. Ah, there she is, little darling." Mrs. Ogilvie took the +angel doll in her hand, and blew a couple of kisses to Sibyl. Sibyl +smiled down at her from the Chamber of Peace. Very soon afterward Lady +Helen returned to her little friend. + +It was on the first day of the bazaar when all the big-wigs had +arrived, when the fun was at its height, when the bands were playing +merrily, and the little pleasure skiffs were floating up and down the +shining waters of the Thames, when flocks of visitors from all the +neighborhood round were crowding in and out of the marquee, and people +were talking and laughing merrily, and Mrs. Ogilvie in her silvery +white dress was looking more beautiful than she had ever looked before +in her life, that a tired, old-looking man appeared on the scene. + +Mrs. Ogilvie half expected that her husband would come back on the day +of the bazaar, for if the _Sahara_ kept to her dates she would make +her appearance in the Tilbury Docks in the early morning of that day. +Mrs. Ogilvie hoped that her husband would get off, and take a quick +train to Richmond, and arrive in time for her to have a nice straight +talk with him, and explain to him about Sibyl's accident, and tell him +what was expected of him. She was anxious to see him before anyone +else did, for those who went in and out of the child's room were so +blind, so persistent in their fears with regard to the little girl's +ultimate recovery; if Mrs. Ogilvie could only get Philip to herself, +she would assure him that the instincts of motherhood never really +failed, that her own instincts assured her that the great doctors were +wrong, and she herself was right. The child was slowly but gradually +returning to the paths of health and strength. + +If only Ogilvie came back in good time his wife would explain these +matters to him, and tell him not to make a fool of himself about the +child, and beg of him to help her in this great, this auspicious +occasion of her life. + +"He will look very nice when he is dressed in his, best," she said to +herself. "It will complete my success in the county if I have him +standing by my side at the door of the marquee to receive our +distinguished guests." + +As this thought came her eyes sparkled, and she got her maid to dress +her in the most becoming way, and she further reflected that when they +had a moment to be alone the husband and wife could talk of the +wonderful golden treasures which Ogilvie was bringing back with him +from the other side of the world. Perhaps he had thought much of her, +his dear Mildred, while he had been away. + +"Men of that sort often think much more of their wives when they are +parted from them," she remembered. "I have read stories to that +effect. I dare say Philip is as much in love with me as he ever was. +He used to be devoted to me when first we were married. There was +nothing good enough for me then. Perhaps he has brought me back some +jewels of greater value than I possess; I will gladly wear them for +his sake." + +But notwithstanding all her dreams and thoughts of her husband, +Ogilvie did not come back to his loving wife in the early hours of the +first day of the bazaar. Neither was there any message or telegram +from him. In spite of herself, Mrs. Ogilvie now grew a little fretful. + +"As he has not come in time to receive our guests, if I knew where to +telegraph, I would wire to him not to come now until the evening," she +thought. But she did not know where to telegraph, and the numerous +duties of the bazaar occupied each moment of her time. + +According to his promise Lord Grayleigh was present, and there were +other titled people walking about the grounds, and Lady Helen as a +stall-holder was invaluable. + +Sibyl had asked to have her white couch drawn nearer than ever to the +window, and from time to time she peeped out and saw the guests +flitting about the lawns and thought of her mother's great happiness +and wonderful goodness. The band played ravishing music, mostly dance +music, and the day, although it was late in the season, was such a +perfect one that the feet of the buyers and sellers alike almost kept +time to the festive strains. + +It was on this scene that Ogilvie appeared. During his voyage home he +had gone through almost every imaginable torture, and, as he reached +Silverbel, he felt that the limit of his patience was almost reached. +He knew, because she had sent him a cable to that effect, that his +wife was staying in a country place, a place on the banks of the +Thames. She had told him further that the nearest station to Silverbel +was Richmond. Accordingly he had gone to Richmond, jumped into the +first cab he could find, and desired the man to drive to Silverbel. + +"You know the place, I presume?" he said. + +"Silverbel, sir, certainly sir; it is there they are having the big +bazaar." + +As the man spoke he looked askance for a moment at the occupant of his +cab, for Ogilvie was travel-stained and dusty. He looked like one in a +terrible hurry. There was an expression in his gray eyes which the +driver did not care to meet. + +"Go as fast as you can," he said briefly, and then the man whipped up +his horse and proceeded over the dusty roads. + +"A rum visitor," he thought; "wonder what he's coming for. Don't look +the sort that that fine young lady would put up with on a day like +this." + +Ogilvie within the cab, however, saw nothing. He was only conscious of +the fact that he was drawing nearer and nearer to the house where his +little daughter--but did his little daughter still live? Was Sibyl +alive? That was the thought of all thoughts, the desire of all +desires, which must soon be answered yea or nay. + +When the tired-out and stricken man heard the strains of the band, he +did rouse himself, however, and began dimly to wonder if, after all, +he had come to the wrong house. Were there two houses called +Silverbel, and had the man taken him to the wrong one? He pulled up +the cab to inquire. + +"No, sir," replied the driver, "it's all right. There ain't but one +place named Silverbel here, and this is the place, sir. The lady is +giving a big bazaar and her name is Mrs. Ogilvie." + +"Then Sibyl must have got well again," thought Ogilvie to himself. And +just for an instant the heavy weight at his breast seemed to lift. He +paid his fare, told the man to take his luggage round to the back +entrance, and jumped out of the cab. + +The man obeyed him, and Ogilvie, just as he was, stepped across the +lawn. He had the air of one who was neither a visitor nor yet a +stranger. He walked with quick, short strides straight before him and +presently he came full upon his wife in her silvery dress. A large +white hat trimmed with pink roses reposed on her head. There were +nature's own pink roses on her cheeks and smiles in her eyes. + +"Oh, Phil!" she cried, with a little start. She was quite clever +enough to hide her secret dismay at his arriving thus, and at such a +moment. She dropped some things she was carrying and ran toward him +with her pretty hands outstretched. + +"Why, Phil!" she said again. "Oh, you naughty man, so you have come +back. But why didn't you send me a telegram?" + +"I had not time, Mildred; I thought my own presence was best. How is +the child?" + +"Oh, much the same--I mean she is going on quite, _quite_ nicely." + +"And what is this?" + +Ogilvie motioned with his hand as he spoke in the direction of the +crowd of people, the marquee, and the band. The music of the band +seemed to get on his brain and hurt him. + +"What is all this?" he repeated. + +"My dear Phil, my dear unpractical husband, this is a bazaar! Have you +never heard of a bazaar before? A bazaar for the Cottage Hospital at +Watleigh, the Home for Incurables; such a useful charity, Phil, and so +much needed. The poor things are wanting funds dreadfully; they have +got into debt, and something must be done to relieve them Think of all +the dear little children in those wards, Phil; the Sisters have been +obliged to refuse several cases lately. It is most pathetic, isn't it? +Oh, by the way, Lord Grayleigh is here; you will be glad to see him?" + +"Presently, not now. How did you say Sibyl was?" + +"I told you a moment ago. You can go and see her when you have changed +your things. I wish you would go away at once to your room and get +into some other clothes. There are no end of people you ought to meet. +How strange you look, Phil." + +"I want to know more of Sibyl." Here the husband caught the wife's +dainty wrist and drew her a little aside. "No matter about other +things at present," he said sternly. "How is Sibyl? Remember, I have +heard no particulars; I have heard nothing since I got your cable. How +is she? Is there much the matter?" + +"Well, I really don't think there is, but perhaps Lady Helen will tell +you. Shall I send her to you? I really am so busy just now. You know I +am selling, myself, at the principal stall. Oh, do go into the house, +you naughty dear; do go to your own room and change your things! I +expected you early this morning, and Watson has put out some of your +wardrobe. Watson will attend on you if you will ring for him. You will +find there is a special dressing room for you on the first floor. Go, +dear, do." + +But Ogilvie now hold both her hands. His own were not too clean; they +were soiled by the dust of his rapid journey. He gripped her wrists +tightly. + +"_Where_ is the child?" he repeated again. + +"Don't look at me like that, you quite frighten me. The child, she is +in her room; she is going on nicely." + +"But is she injured? Can she walk?" + +"What could you expect? She cannot walk yet, but she is getting better +gradually--at least, I think so." + +"What you think is nothing, less than nothing. What do the doctors +say?" + +As Ogilvie was speaking he drew his wife gradually but surely away +from the fashionably dressed people and the big-wigs who were too +polite to stare, but who were all the time devoured with curiosity. It +began to be whispered in the crowd that Ogilvie had returned, and that +his wife and he were looking at certain matters from different points +of view. There were several men and women present, who, although they +encouraged Mrs. Ogilvie to have the bazaar, nevertheless thought her a +heartless woman, and these people now were rather rejoicing in +Ogilvie's attitude. He did not look like a person who could be trifled +with. He drew his wife toward the shrubbery. + +"I will see the child in a minute," he said; "nothing else matters. +She is ill, unable to walk, lying down. I want to hear full +particulars. If you will not tell them to me, I will send for the +doctor. The question I wish answered is this, _what do the doctors +say_?" + +Tears filled Mrs. Ogilvie's pretty, dark eyes. + +"Really, Phil, you are too cruel. After these weeks of anxiety, which +only a mother can understand, you speak to me in that tone, just as if +the dear little creature were nothing to me at all." + +"You can cry, Mildred, as much as you please, and you can talk all the +sentimental stuff that best appeals to you, but answer my question +now. What do the doctors say, and what doctors has she seen?" + +"The local doctor here, our own special doctor in town, and the great +specialist, Sir Henry Powell." + +"Good God, that man!" said Ogilvie, starting back. "Then she must have +been badly hurt?" + +"She was badly hurt." + +"Well, what did the doctors say? Give me their verdict. I insist upon +knowing." + +"They--they--of course, they are wrong, Phil. You are hurting me; I +wish you would not hold my hands so tightly." + +"Speak!" was his only response. + +"They said at the time--of course they were mistaken, doctors often +are. You cannot imagine how many diagnoses of theirs have been proved +to be wrong. Yes, I learned that queer word; I did not understand it +at first. Now I know all about it." + +"Speak!" This one expression came from Ogilvie's lips almost with a +hiss. + +"Well, they said at the time that--oh, Phil, you kill me when you look +at me like that! They said the case was----" + +"Hopeless?" asked the man between his white lips. + +"They certainly _said_ it. But, Phil; oh, Phil, dear, they are wrong!" + +He let her hands go with a sudden jerk. She almost fell. + +"You knew it, and you could have that going on?" he said. "Go back to +your bazaar." + +"I certainly will. I think you are terribly unkind." + +"You can have those people here, and that band playing, when you know +_that_? Well, if such scenes give you pleasure at such a time, go and +enjoy them." + +He strode into the house. She looked after his retreating figure; then +she took out her daintily laced handkerchief, applied it to her eyes, +and went back to her duties. + +"I am a martyr in a good cause," she said to herself; "but it is +bitterly hard when one's husband does not understand one." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +This was better than the phantom ship. This was peace, joy, and +absolute delight. Sibyl need not now only lie in her father's arms +at night and in her dreams. She could look into his face and hear +his voice and touch his hand at all hours, day and night. + +Her gladness was so real and beautiful that it pervaded the entire +room, and in her presence Ogilvie scarcely felt pain. He held her +little hand and sat by her side, and at times when she was utterly +weary he even managed to raise her in his arms and pace the room with +her, and lay her back again on her bed without hurting her, and he +talked cheerfully in her presence, and smiled and even joked with her, +and they were gay together with a sort of tender gaiety which had +never been theirs in the old times. At night, especially, he was her +best comforter and her kindest and most tender nurse. + +For the first two days after his return Ogilvie scarcely left Sibyl. +During all that time he asked no questions of outsiders. He did not +even inquire for the doctor's verdict. Where was the good of asking a +question which could only receive one answer? The look on the child's +face was answer enough to her father. + +Meanwhile, outside in the grounds, the bazaar went on. The marquee was +full of guests, the band played cheerily, the notable people from all +the country round arrived in carriages, and bought the pretty things +from the different stall-holders and went away again. + +The weather was balmy, soft and warm, and the little skiffs with their +gay flags did a large trade on the river. Lord Grayleigh was one of +the guests, returning to town, it is true, at night, but coming back +again early in the morning. He heard that Ogilvie had returned and was +naturally anxious to see him, but Ogilvie sent word that he could not +see anyone just then. Grayleigh understood. He shook his head when +Mrs. Ogilvie herself brought him the message. + +"This cuts him to the heart," he said; "I doubt if he will ever be the +same man again." + +"Oh, Lord Grayleigh, what nonsense!" said the wife. "My dear husband +was always eccentric, but as Sibyl recovers so will he recover his +equanimity. It is a great shock to him, of course, to see her as she +is now, dear little soul. But I cannot tell you how bad I was at +first; indeed, I was in bed for nearly a week. I had a sort of nervous +attack--nervous fever, the doctor said. But I got over it. I know now +so assuredly that the darling child is getting well that I am never +unhappy about her. Philip will be just the same by-and-by." + +Grayleigh made no reply. He gave Mrs. Ogilvie one of his queer +glances, turned on his heel and whistled softly to himself. He +muttered under his breath that some women were poor creatures, and he +was sorry for Ogilvie, yes, very sorry. + +Grayleigh was also anxious with regard to another matter, but that +anxiety he managed so effectually to smother that he would not even +allow himself to _think_ that it had any part in Ogilvie's curious +unwillingness to see him. + +At this time it is doubtful whether Ogilvie did refuse to see +Grayleigh in any way on account of the mine, for during those two days +he had eyes, ears, thoughts, and heart for no one but Sibyl. When +anyone else entered her room he invariably went out, but he quickly +returned, smiling as he did so, and generally carrying in his hand +some treasure which he had brought for her across the seas. He would +then draw his chair near the little, white bed and talk to her in +light and cheerful strains, telling her wonderful things he had seen +during his voyage, of the sunsets at sea, of a marvelous rainbow which +once spanned the sky from east to west, and of many curious mirages +which he had witnessed. He always talked to the child of nature, +knowing how she understood nature, and those things which are the +special heritage of the innocent of the earth, and she was as happy +during those two peaceful days as it was ever the lot of little mortal +to be. + +But, in particular, when Mrs. Ogilvie entered the sick room did +Ogilvie go out. He had during those two days not a single word of +private talk with his wife. To Miss Winstead he was always polite and +tolerant; to nurse he was more than polite, he was kind, and to Sibyl +he was all in all, everything that father could be, everything that +love could imagine. He kept himself, his wounded conscience, his +fears, his heavy burden of sin in abeyance for the sake of the +fast-fleeting little life, because he willed, with all the strength +of his nature, to give the child every comfort that lay in his power +during her last moments. + +But the peaceful days could not last long. They came to an end with +the big bazaar. The band ceased to play on the lawn, the pleasure +boats ceased to ply up and down the Thames, the lovely Indian summer +passed into duller weather, the equinoctial gales visited the land, +and Ogilvie knew that he must brace himself for something he had long +made up his mind to accomplish. He must pass out of this time of +quiet into a time of storm. He had known from the first that he must +do this, but until the bazaar came to an end, by a sort of tacit +consent, neither the child nor the man talked of the gold mine. + +But now the guests having gone, even Lady Helen Douglas and Lord +Grayleigh having left the house, Ogilvie knew that he must act. + +On the morning of the third day after his return Mrs. Ogilvie entered +Sibyl's room. She came in quietly looking pale and at the same time +jubilant. The result of the bazaar was a large check which was to be +sent off that day to the Home for Incurables at Watleigh. Mrs. Ogilvie +felt herself a very good and charitable woman indeed. She wore her +very prettiest dress and had smiles in her dark eyes. + +"Oh! my ownest darling mother, how sweet you look!" said little Sibyl. +"Come and kiss me, darling mother." + +Mrs. Ogilvie had to bend forward to catch the failing voice. She asked +the child what she said. Sibyl feebly repeated her words. + +"Don't tire her," said Ogilvie; "if you cannot hear, be satisfied to +guess. The child wishes you to kiss her." + +Mrs. Ogilvie turned on her husband a look of reproach. There was an +expression in her eyes which seemed to say: "And you think that I, a +mother, do not understand my own child." But Ogilvie would not meet +his wife's eyes. He walked to one of the windows and looked out. The +little, white couch had been moved a trifle out of the window now that +the weather was getting chilly, and a screen was put up to protect the +child from any draught. + +Ogilvie stood and looked across the garden. Where the marquee had +stood the grass was already turning yellow, there were wisps of straw +about; the scene without seemed to him to be full with desolation. +Suddenly he turned, walked to the fireplace, and stirred the fire into +a blaze. At that moment Miss Winstead entered the room. + +"Miss Winstead," said Ogilvie, "will you sit with Sibyl for a short +time? Mildred, I should like a word with you alone." + +His voice was cheerful, but quite firm. He went up to Sibyl and kissed +her. + +"I shall soon be back, my little love," he said, and she kissed him +and smiled, and watched both parents as they went out of the room. + +"Isn't it wonderful," she said, turning to her governess, "how perfect +they both are! I don't know which is most perfect; only, of course I +can't help it, but I like father's way best." + +"I should think you did," replied Miss Winstead. "Shall I go on +reading you the new fairy tale, Sibyl?" + +"Not to-day, thank you, Miss Winstead," answered Sibyl. + +"Then what shall I read?" + +"I don't think anything, just now. Father has been reading the most +beautiful inciting things about a saint called John, who wrote a story +about the New Jerusalem. Did you ever read it?" + +"You mean a story out of the Bible, from the Book of Revelation?" + +"Perhaps so; I don't quite know what part of the Bible. Oh, it's most +wonderful inciting, and father reads so splendid. It's about what +happens to people when their wings are grown long. Did you never read +about it, Miss Winstead? The New Jerusalem _is_ so lovely, with +streets paved with gold, same as the gold in the gold mine, you know, +and gates all made of big pearls, each gate one big whole pearl. I +won't ask you to read about it, 'cos I like father's way of reading +best; but it's all most wonderful and beautiful." + +The child lay with a smile on her face. She could see a little way +across the garden from where she lay. + +Meanwhile Ogilvie and his wife had gone downstairs. When they reached +the wide central hall, he asked her to accompany him into a room +which was meant to be a library. It looked out toward the back of the +house, and was not quite in the same absolute order as the other +beautiful rooms were in. Ogilvie perhaps chose it for that reason. + +The moment they had both got into the room he closed the door, and +turned and faced his wife. + +"Now, Mildred," he said, "I wish to understand--God knows I am the +last person who ought to reproach you--but I must clearly understand +what this means." + +"What it means?" she repeated. "Why do you speak in that tone? Oh, +it's very fine to say you do not mean to reproach me, but your eyes +and the tone of your voice reproach me. You have been very cruel to +me, Philip, these last two days. What I have suffered, God only knows. +I have gone through the most fearful strain; I, alone, unaided by you, +have had to keep the bazaar going, to entertain our distinguished +guests, to be here, there, and everywhere, but, thank goodness, we did +collect a nice little sum for the Home for Incurables. I wonder, +Philip, when you think of your own dear little daughter, and what she +may----" + +"Hush!" said the man. + +Mrs. Ogilvie paused in her rapid flow of words, and looked at him with +interrogation in her eyes. + +"I refuse to allow Sibyl's name to enter into this matter," he said. +"You did what you did, God knows with what motive. I don't care, and I +do not mean to inquire. The question I have now to ask is, what is the +meaning of _this_?" As he spoke he waved his hand round the room, and +then pointed to the grounds outside. + +"Silverbel!" she cried; "but I wrote to you and told you the place was +in the market. I even sent you a cablegram. Oh, of course, I forgot, +you rushed away from Brisbane in a hurry. You received the other +cablegram about little Sibyl?" + +"Yes, I received the other cablegram, and, as you say, I rushed home. +But why are you here? Have you taken the house for the season, or +what?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie gave an excited scream, ending off in a laugh. + +"Why, we have bought Silverbel," she cried; "you are, you must be +pleased. Mr. Acland lent me enough money for the first deposit, and +you have just come back in time, my dear Phil, to pay the final sum +due at the end of October, eighteen thousand pounds. Quite a trifle +compared to the fortune you must have brought back with you. Then, +of course, there is also the furniture to be paid for, but the +tradespeople are quite willing to wait. We are rich, dear Phil, and +I am so happy about it." + +"Rich!" he answered. He did not say another word for a moment, then he +went slowly up to his wife, and took her hand. + +"Mildred," he said slowly, "do you realize--do you at all realize the +fact that the child is dying?" + +"Nonsense," she answered, starting back. + +"The child is dying," repeated Ogilvie, "and when the child dies, any +motive that I ever had for amassing gold, or any of those things which +are considered essential to the worldly man's happiness, _goes out_. +After the child is taken, I have no desire to live as a wealthy man, +as a man of society, as a man of means. Life to me is reduced to the +smallest possible modicum of interest. When I went to Queensland, I +went there because I wished to secure money for the child. I did +bitter wrong, and God is punishing me, but I sinned for her sake.... I +now repent of my sin, and repentance means----" + +"What?" she asked, looking at him with round, dilated eyes. + +"Restitution," he replied; "all the restitution that lies in my +power." + +"You--you terrify me," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "what are you talking about? +Restitution! What have you to give back?" + +"Listen, and I will explain. You knew, Mildred--oh, yes, you knew it +well enough--that I went to Australia on no honorable mission. You did +not care to inquire, you hid yourself behind a veil of pretended +ignorance; but you _knew_--yes, you did, and you dare not deny +it--that I went to Queensland to commit a crime. It would implicate +others if I were to explain things more fully. I will not implicate +others, I will stand alone now, in this bitter moment when the fruit +of my sin is brought home to me. I will bear the responsibility of my +own sin. I will not drag anybody else down in my fall, but it is +sufficient for you to know, Mildred, that the Lombard Deeps Mine as a +speculation is worthless." + +"Worthless!" she cried, "impossible!" + +"Worthless," he repeated. + +"Then why, why did you send a cablegram to say the mine was full of +gold? Lord Grayleigh told me he had received such a message from you." + +"I told a dastardly lie, which I am about to put straight." + +"But, but," she began, her lips white, her eyes shining, "if you do +not explain away your lie (oh, Phil, it is such an ugly word), if you +do not explain it away, could not the company be floated?" + +"It could, and the directors could reap a fortune by means of it. Do +you understand, Mildred, what that implies?" + +"Do I understand?" she replied. "No, I was always a poor little woman +who had no head for figures." + +"Nevertheless you will, I think, take it in when I explain. You are +not quite so stupid as you make yourself out. The directors and I +could make a fortune--it would be easy, for there is enough gold +in the mine to last for at least six months, and the public are +credulous, and can be taken in. We should make our fortunes out of the +widows and orphans, out of the savings of the poor clerks, and from +the clergyman's tiny stipend. We could sweep in their little earnings, +and aggrandize our own wealth and importance, and _lose our souls_. +Yes, Mildred, we could, but we won't. I shall prevent that. I have a +task before me which will save this foulest crime from being +committed." + +Mrs. Ogilvie dropped into a chair; she burst into hysterical weeping. + +"What you say can't be true, Phil. Oh, Phil, darling, do have mercy." + +"How?" he asked. + +"Don't do anything so mad, so rash. You always had such a queer, +troublesome sort of conscience. Phil, I cannot stand poverty, I cannot +stand being dragged down; I must have this place; I have set my heart +on it." + +He came up to her and took both her hands. + +"Is it worth evil?" he asked. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Is anything under the sun worth evil?" She made no answer. He dropped +her hands and left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Ogilvie went up to Sibyl. Suffering and love had taught him many +lessons, amongst others those of absolute self-control. His face was +smiling and calm as he crossed the room, bent over the child and +kissed her. Those blue eyes of hers, always so full of penetration and +of knowledge, which was not all this earth, could detect no sorrow in +her father's. + +"I must go to town, I shall be away for as short a time as possible. +As soon as I come back I will come to you," he said. "Look after her, +please, Miss Winstead. If you cannot remain in the room, send nurse. +Now, don't tire yourself, my little love. Remember that father will be +back very soon." + +"Don't hurry, father darling," replied Sibyl "'cos I am quite happy +thinking about you, even if you are not here." + +He went away, ran downstairs, put on his hat and went out. His wife +was standing in the porch. + +"One moment, Phil," she called, "where are you going?" + +"To town." + +"To do what?" + +"To do what I said," he answered, and he gave her a strange look, +which frightened her, and caused her to fall back against the wall. + +He disappeared down the avenue, she sank into a chair and began +to weep. She was thoroughly miserable and frightened. Philip had +returned, but all pleasant golden dreams were shattered, for although +he had sent a cablegram to Lord Grayleigh, saying that all was well, +better than well, his conscience was speaking to him, that troublesome +terrible conscience of his, and he was about to destroy his own work. + +"What fearful creatures men with consciences are," moaned Mrs. +Ogilvie. + +Meanwhile Ogilvie walked quickly up the avenue. Just at the gates he +met an old couple who were coming in. They were a queer-looking old +pair, dressed in old-fashioned style. Ogilvie did not know them, but +the woman paused when she saw him, came forward, dropped a curtsey and +said: + +"I beg your pardon, sir." + +"What can I do for you?" said Ogilvie. He tried to speak courteously, +but this delay, and the presence of the old couple whose names he did +not even know, irritated him. + +"If you please, sir, you are Mr. Ogilvie?" + +"That is my name." + +"We know you," continued the old woman, "by the likeness to your +little daughter." + +The mention of Sibyl caused Ogilvie now to regard them more +attentively. + +"May I inquire your names?" he asked. + +"Holman, sir," said the woman. "This is my husband, sir. We heard only +yesterday of dear little Missie's illness, and we couldn't rest until +we came to enquire after her. We greatly 'opes, sir, that the dear +little lamb is better. We thought you wouldn't mind if we asked." + +"By no means," answered Ogilvie. "Any friends of Sibyl's, any real +friends, are of interest to me." + +He paused and looked into the old woman's face. + +"She's better, ain't she, dear lamb?" asked Mrs. Holman. + +Ogilvie shook his head; it was a quick movement, his face was very +white, his lips opened but no words came. The next instant he had +hurried down the road, leaving the old pair looking after him. + +Mrs. Holman caught her husband's hand. + +"What do it mean, John?" she asked, "what do it mean?" + +"We had best go to the house and find out," was Holman's response. + +"Yes, we had best," replied Mrs. Holman; "but, John, I take it that +it means the worst. The little lamb was too good for this earth. I +always said it, John, always." + +"Come to the house and let's find out," said Holman again. + +He took his old wife's hand, and the strange-looking pair walked down +the avenue. Presently they found themselves standing outside the +pretty old-fashioned porch of lovely Silverbel. They did not know as +they walked that they were in full view of the windows of the Chamber +of Peace, and that eager blue eyes were watching them, eager eyes +which filled with love and longing when they gazed at them. + +"Miss Winstead!" cried little Sibyl. + +"What is it, dear?" asked the governess. + +Sibyl had been silent for nearly a quarter of an hour, and Miss +Winstead, tired with the bazaar and many other things, had been +falling into a doze. The sudden excitement in Sibyl's voice now +arrested her attention. + +"Oh, Miss Winstead, they have come." + +"Who have come, dear?" + +"The Holmans, the darlings! I saw them walking down the avenue. Oh, I +should so like to see them. Will you go down and bring them up? Please +do." + +"But the doctor said you were to be quiet, and not excite yourself." + +"What does it matter whether I incite myself or not? Please, please +let me see the Holmans." + +"Yes, dear," replied Miss Winstead. She left the room and went +downstairs. As she entered the central hall she suddenly found herself +listening to an animated conversation. + +"Now, my good people," said Mrs. Ogilvie's voice, raised high and +clear, "you will be kind enough to return to town immediately. The +child is ill, but we hope soon to have her better. See her, did you +say, my good woman? Certainly not. I shall be pleased to offer you +refreshment if you will go round to the housekeeper's entrance, but +you must take the next train to town, you cannot see the child." + +"If you please, Mrs. Ogilvie," here interrupted Miss Winstead, coming +forward. "Sibyl noticed Mr. and Mrs. Holman as they walked down the +avenue, and is very much pleased and delighted at their coming to see +her, and wants to know if they may come up at once and have a talk +with her?" + +"Dear me!" cried Mrs. Ogilvie; "I really must give the child another +bedroom, this sort of thing is so bad for her. It is small wonder the +darling does not get back her health--the dreadful way in which she +is over-excited and injudiciously treated. Really, my good folks, I +wish you would go back to town and not make mischief." + +"But if the little lady wishes?" began Mrs. Holman, in a timid voice, +tears trembling on her eyelids. + +"Sibyl certainly does wish to see you," said Miss Winstead in a grave +voice. "I think, Mrs. Ogilvie," she added, "it would be a pity to +refuse her. I happen to know Mr. and Mrs. Holman pretty well, and I do +not think they will injure dear little Sibyl. If you will both promise +to come upstairs quietly," continued Miss Winstead, "and not express +sorrow when you see her, for she is much changed, and will endeavor to +speak cheerfully, you will do her good, not harm." + +"Oh, yes, we'll speak cheerfully," said Holman; "we know the ways of +dear little Miss. If so be that she would see us, it would be a great +gratification, Madam, and we will give you our word that we will not +injure your little daughter." + +"Very well," said Mrs. Ogilvie, waving her hand, "My opinion is +never taken in this house, nor my wishes consulted. I pass the +responsibility on to you, Miss Winstead. When the child's father +returns and finds that you have acted as you have done you will +have to answer to him. I wash my hands of the matter." + +Mrs. Ogilvie went out on to the lawn. + +"The day is improving," she thought. She glanced up at the sky. "It +certainly is miserable at home, and every one talks nonsense about +Sibyl. I shall really take a drive and go and see the Le Stranges. I +cannot stand the gloom of the house. The dear child is getting better +fast, there is not the least doubt of it, and why Phil should talk as +he does, and in particular why he should speak as if we were paupers, +is past bearing. Lose Silverbel! I certainly will not submit to that." + +So the much aggrieved wife went round in the direction of the stables, +gave orders that the pony trap was to be got ready for her, and soon +afterward was on her way to the Le Stranges. By the time she reached +that gay and somewhat festive household, she herself was as merry and +hopeful as usual. + +Meantime Miss Winstead took the Holmans upstairs. + +"You must be prepared for a very great change," said Miss Winstead, +"but you will not show her that you notice it. She is very sweet and +very happy, and I do not think anyone need be over-sorry about her." + +Miss Winstead's own voice trembled. The next moment she opened the +door of the Chamber of Peace, and the old-fashioned pair from whom +Sibyl had bought so many dusty toys stood before her. + +"Eh, my little love, and how are you, dearie?" said Mrs. Holman. She +went forward, dropped on her knees by the bed, and took one of Sibyl's +soft white hands. "Eh, dearie, and what can Mrs. Holman do for you?" + +"How do you do, Mrs. Holman?" said Sibyl, in her weak, but perfectly +clear voice; "and how do you do, Mr. Holman? How very kind of you both +to come to see me. Do you know I love you very much. I think of you so +often. Won't you come to the other side of the bed, Mr. Holman, and +won't you take a chair? My voice is apt to get tired if I talk too +loud. I am very glad to see you both." + +"Eh! but you look sweet," said Mrs. Holman. + +Mr. Holman now took his big handkerchief and blew his nose violently. +After that precautionary act he felt better, as he expressed it, and +no longer in danger of giving way. But Mrs. Holman never for a single +instant thought of giving way. She had once, long ago, had a child of +her own--a child who died when young--and she had sat by that dying +child's bed and never once given expression to her feelings. So why +should she now grieve little Sibyl by showing undue sorrow? + +"It is nice to look at you, dearie," she repeated, "and what a pretty +room you have, my love." + +"Everything is beautiful," said little Sibyl, "everything in all the +world, and I love you so much." + +"To be sure, darling, and so do Holman and I love you." + +"Whisper," said Sibyl, "bend a little nearer, my voice gets so very +tired. Have you kept your hundred pounds quite safe?" + +"Yes, darling, but we won't talk of money now." + +"Only," said Sibyl, "when the gold comes from the mine _you'll_ be all +right. Lord Grayleigh has wrote your name and Mr. Holman's in his +note-book, and he has promised that you are to get some of the gold. +You'll be able to have the shop in Buckingham Palace Road, and the +children will come to you and buy your beautiful toys." She paused +here and her little face turned white. + +"You must not talk any more, dearie," said Mrs. Holman. "It's all +right about the gold and everything else. All we want is for you to +get well." + +"I am getting well," answered Sibyl, but as she said the words a +curious expression came into her eyes. + +"You know," she said, as Mrs. Holman rose and took her hand before she +went away, "that when we have wings we fly. I think my wings are +coming; but oh, I love you, and you won't forget me when you have your +big shop in Buckingham Palace Road?" + +"We will never forget you, dearie," said Mrs. Holman, and then she +stooped and kissed the child. + +"Come, Holman," she said. + +"If I might," said old Holman, straightening himself and looking very +solemn, "if I might have the great privilege of kissing little +Missie's hand afore I go." + +"Oh, indeed, you may," said Sibyl. + +A moment later the old pair were seen going slowly down the avenue. + +"Blessed darling, her wings are very near, I'm thinking," said Mrs. +Holman. She was sobbing now, although she had not sobbed in the sick +room. + +"Queer woman, the mother," said Holman. "We'll get back to town, wife; +I'm wonderful upset." + +"We'll never sell no more of the dusty toys to no other little +children," said Mrs. Holman, and she wept behind her handkerchief. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +Ogilvie went straight to town. When he arrived at Victoria he took a +hansom and drove to the house of the great doctor who had last seen +Sibyl. Sir Henry Powell was at home. Ogilvie sent in his card and +was admitted almost immediately into his presence. He asked a few +questions, they were straight and to the point, and to the point did +the specialist reply. His last words were: + +"It is a question of time; but the end may come at any moment. There +never was any hope from the beginning. From the first it was a matter +of days and weeks, I did not know when I first saw your little +daughter that she could live even as long as she has done, but the +injury to the spine was low down, which doubtless accounts for this +fact." + +Ogilvie bowed, offered a fee, which Sir Henry refused, and left the +house. Although he had just received the blow which he expected to +receive, he felt strangely quiet, his troublesome heart was not +troublesome any longer. There was no excitement whatever about him; he +had never felt so calm in all his life before. He knew well that, as +far as earthly success and earthly hope and earthly joy went, he was +coming to the end of the ways. He knew that he had strength for the +task which lay before him. + +He went to the nearest telegraph office and sent three telegrams to +Lord Grayleigh. He pre-paid the answers of each, sending one to +Grayleigh's club, another to his house in town, and another to +Grayleigh Manor. The contents of each were identical. + + "Wire immediately the next meeting of the directors of the + Lombard Deeps." + +He gave as the address to which the reply was to be sent his own house +in Belgrave Square. + +Having done this he paid a visit to his solicitor, Mr. Acland. Acland +did not know that he had come back, and was unfeignedly glad to see +him, but when he observed the expression on his friend's face, he +started and said: + +"My dear fellow, you don't look the better for your trip; I am sorry +to see you so broken down." + +"I have a good deal to try me," said Ogilvie; "please do not discuss +my looks. It does not matter whether I am ill or well. I have much to +do and must do my work quickly. You have heard, of course, about the +child?" + +"Of her accident?" exclaimed Acland; "yes, her mother wrote to me some +time ago--she had a fall from her pony?" + +"She had." + +"Take a chair, won't you, Ogilvie?" + +Ogilvie dropped into one. Acland looked at him and then said, slowly: + +"I judged from Mrs. Ogilvie's note that there was nothing serious the +matter. I hope I am not mistaken." + +"You are mistaken," replied Ogilvie; "but I cannot quite bear to +discuss this matter. Shall we enter at once on the real object of my +visit?" + +"Certainly," said Acland. + +A clerk entered the room. "Leave us," said Acland to the man, "and say +to any inquirers that I am particularly engaged. Now, Ogilvie," he +added as the clerk withdrew, "I am quite at your service." + +"Thank you. There is a little business which has just come to my ears, +and which I wish to arrange quickly. My wife tells me that she has +borrowed two thousand pounds from you in order to pay a deposit on the +place on the Thames called Silverbel." + +"Yes, the place where your wife is now staying." + +"Exactly." + +"I hope you approve of Silverbel, Ogilvie; it is really cheap at the +price; and, of course, everyone knows that you have returned a very +rich man. It would have been pleasanter for me had you been at home +when the purchase was made, but Mrs. Ogilvie was insistent. She had +taken a strong fancy to the place. There were several other less +expensive country places in the market, but the only one which would +please her was Silverbel. I cabled to you, but got no reply. Your wife +implored me to act, and I lent her the deposit. The purchase must be +completed at the end of October, in about a month from now. I hope you +don't blame me, Ogilvie?" + +"I don't blame you--I understand my wife. It would have been difficult +to refuse her. Of course, had you done so matters might have been a +little easier for me now. As it is, I will pay you back the deposit. I +have my cheque-book with me." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I should like to write a cheque for you now. I must get this matter +put straight, and, Acland, you must find another purchaser." + +"Not really!" cried Mr. Acland. "The place is beautiful, and cheap at +the price, and you have come back a rich man." + +"On the contrary, I have returned to England practically a pauper." + +"No!" cried Mr. Acland; "but the report of the Lombard Deeps----" + +"Hush, you will know all soon. It is sufficient for you at present to +receive the news in all confidence that I am a ruined man. Not that it +matters. There will be a trifle for my wife--nothing else concerns me. +May I fill in this cheque?" + +"You can do so, of course," replied Acland. "I shall receive the money +in full sooner or later from the other purchaser, and then you can +have it back." + +"It would be a satisfaction to me, however, to pay you the deposit you +lent my wife at once." + +"Very well." + +Ogilvie filled in a cheque for two thousand pounds. + +"You had better see Mrs. Ogilvie with regard to this," he said, as he +stood up. "You transacted the business with her, and you must break to +her what I have already done, but what I fear she fails to believe, +that the purchase cannot possibly go on. It will not be in my power, +Acland, to complete it, even if I should be alive at the time." + +"I know another man only too anxious to purchase," said Acland; "but I +am deeply sorry for you--your child so ill, your own mission to +Queensland a failure." + +"Yes, quite a failure. I won't detain you any longer now. I may need +your services again presently." + +Ogilvie went from the lawyer's house straight to his own in Belgrave +Square. It was in the hands of a caretaker. A seedy-looking man in a +rusty black coat opened the door. He did not know Ogilvie. + +"I am the master," said Ogilvie; "let me in, please." + +The man stood aside. + +"Has a telegram come for me?" + +"Yes, sir, five minutes ago." + +Ogilvie tore it open, and read the contents. + + "Meeting of directors at one o'clock to-morrow, at Cannon + Street Hotel. Not necessary for you to be present unless you + wish. GRAYLEIGH." + +Ogilvie crushed up the telegram, and turned to the man. + +"I shall sleep here to-night," Ogilvie said, "and shall be back in the +course of the evening." + +He then went to his bank. It was within half-an-hour of closing. He +saw one of the managers who happened to be a friend of his. The +manager welcomed him back with effusion, and then made the usual +remark about his changed appearance. + +Ogilvie put his troublesome questions aside. + +"I had an interview with you just before I went to Queensland," he +said, "and I then placed, with a special note for your instructions +in case anything happened to me, a sum of money in the bank." + +"A large sum, Ogilvie--ten thousand pounds." + +"Yes, ten thousand pounds," repeated Ogilvie. "I want to withdraw the +money." + +"It is a considerable sum to withdraw at once, but as it is not on +deposit you can have it." + +"I thought it only fair to give you a few hours' notice. I shall call +for it to-morrow about ten o'clock." + +"Do you wish to take it in a cheque?" + +"I think not, I should prefer notes." Ogilvie added a few more words, +and then went back to his own house. + +At last everything was in train. He uttered a sigh of relief. The +house looked gloomy and dismantled, but for that very reason it suited +his feelings. Some of the furniture had been removed to Silverbel, and +the place was dusty. His study in particular looked forbidding, some +ashes from the last fire ever made there still remained in the grate. +He wondered if anyone had ever entered the study since he last sat +there and struggled with temptation and yielded to it. + +He went up to his own room, which had been hastily prepared for him, +and looked around him in a forlorn way. He then quickly mounted +another flight of stairs, and found himself at last in the room where +his little daughter used to sleep. The moment he entered this room he +was conscious of a sensation of comfort. The worldliness of all the +rest of the house fell away in this sweet, simply furnished chamber. +He sat down near the little empty bed, pressed his hand over his eyes, +and gave himself up to thought. + +Nobody knew how long he sat there. The caretaker and his wife took no +notice. They were busy down in the kitchen. It mattered nothing at all +to them whether Ogilvie were in the house or not. He breathed a +conscious sigh of relief. He was glad to be alone, and the spirit of +his little daughter seemed close to him. He had something hard to go +through, and terrible agony would be his as he accomplished his task. +He knew that he should have to walk through fire, and the fire would +not be brief nor quickly over. Step by step his wounded feet must +tread. By no other road was there redemption. He did not shirk the +inevitable. On the contrary, his mind was made up. + +"By no other road can I clasp her hand in the Eternity which lies +beyond this present life," he thought. "I deserve the pain and the +shame, I deserve all. There are times when a man comes face to face +with God. It is fearful when his God is angry with him. My God is +angry--the pains of hell take hold of me." + +He walked to the window and looked out. It is doubtful if he saw much. +Suddenly beside the little empty bed he fell on his knees, buried his +face in his hands and a sob rose to his throat. + + * * * * * + +On the following day, shortly before one o'clock, the directors of the +Lombard Deeps Company assembled in one of the big rooms of the Cannon +Street Hotel. Lord Grayleigh, the Chairman, had not yet arrived. The +rest of the directors sat around a long, green baize table and talked +eagerly one to the other. They formed a notable gathering, including +many of the astutest financiers in the city. As they sat and waited +for Grayleigh to appear, they eagerly discussed the prospects of the +new venture. While they talked their spirits rose, and had any outside +spectator been present he would have guessed that they had already +made up their minds to an enormous success. + +Just on the stroke of one Grayleigh, carrying a roll of documents in +his hand, entered the room. There was a lull in the conversation as he +nodded to one and another of his acquaintances, went quickly up the +room and took his seat at the head of the table. Here he arranged his +papers and held a short consultation with the secretary, a tall man of +about fifty years of age. There was a short pause and then Lord +Grayleigh rose to his feet. + +"Gentlemen," he began, "although, as you know, I have been and am +still chairman of several companies, I can say without hesitation that +never have I presided at a meeting of the directors of any company +before which had such brilliant prospects. It is my firm conviction, +and I hope to impress you all with a similar feeling, that the Lombard +Deeps Mining Company has a great career before it." + +Expressions of satisfaction rose from one or two present. + +Lord Grayleigh proceeded: "This I can frankly say is largely due to +our having secured the services of Mr. Philip Ogilvie as our assayer, +but I regret to have to tell you all that, although he has returned +to England, he is not likely to be present to-day. A very serious +domestic calamity which ought to claim your deepest sympathy is the +cause of his absence, but his report in detail I shall now have the +pleasure of submitting to you." + +Here Lord Grayleigh took up the document which had been signed by +Ogilvie and Rycroft at the Waharoo Hotel at Brisbane. He proceeded to +read it aloud, emphasizing the words which spoke of the value of the +veins of gold beneath the alluvial deposit. + +"This report," he said in conclusion, "is vouched for by the +signatures of my friend Ogilvie and also by James Rycroft, who is +nearly as well known in Queensland as Ogilvie is in London." + +As detail after detail of the brilliantly worded document which +Ogilvie and Rycroft had compounded with such skill, fell upon the ears +of Lord Grayleigh's audience, satisfaction not unmixed with avarice +lit up the eyes of many. Accustomed as most of these men were to +assayers' reports, what they now listened to unfeignedly astonished +them. There was a great silence in the room, and not the slightest +word from Lord Grayleigh's clear voice was lost. + +When he had finished he laid the document on the table and was just +about, as he expressed it, to proceed to business when a movement at +the door caused all to turn their heads. Ogilvie had unexpectedly +entered the room. + +Cries of welcome greeted him and many hands were stretched out. He +contented himself, however, with bowing slightly, and going up the +room handed Lord Grayleigh a packet. + +"Don't open it now," he said in a low voice, "it is for yourself, and +carries its own explanation with it." + +He then turned and faced the directors. There was something about his +demeanor and an indescribable look on his face, which caused the +murmurs of applause to die away and silence once more to fill the +room. + +Lord Grayleigh slipped the small packet into his pocket and also rose +to his feet. + +Ogilvie's attitude and manner disturbed him. A sensation as though of +coming calamity seemed to weigh the air. Lord Grayleigh was the first +to speak. + +"We are all glad to welcome you back, Ogilvie," he said. "In more +senses than one we are pleased that you are able to be present just +now. I have just been reading your report to these gentlemen. I had +finished it when you entered the room." + +"It is an admirable and brilliant account of the mine, Mr. Ogilvie," +said a director from the far end of the table. "I congratulate you not +only on the good news it contains, but on the excellent manner in +which you have put details together. The Lombard Deeps will be the +best thing in the market, and we shall not need for capital to work +the mine to the fullest extent." + +"Will you permit me to look at my report for a moment, Lord +Grayleigh?" said Ogilvie, in a grave tone. + +Grayleigh gave it to him. Ogilvie took it in his hand. + +"I have come here to-day," he said, "to speak for a moment"--his voice +was husky; he cleared his throat, and went on--"to perform a painful +business, to set wrong right. I am prepared, gentlemen, for your +opprobrium. You think well of me now, you will not do so long. I have +come here to speak to you of that----" + +"Sit down," said Grayleigh's voice behind him. "You must be mad. +Remember yourself." He laid his hand on Ogilvie's arm. Ogilvie shook +it off. + +"I can tell you, gentlemen, what I have come to say in a few words," +he continued. "This report which I drew up, and which I signed, is as +_false as hell_." + +"False?" echoed a voice in the distance, a thin voice from a +foreign-looking man. "Impossible!" + +"It is false," continued Ogilvie. "I wrote the report and I ought to +know. I spent three weeks at the Lombard Deeps Mine. There were no +rich veins of gold; there was a certain alluvial deposit, which for a +time, a few months, might yield five ounces to the ton. I wrote the +report for a motive which no longer exists. God Himself smote me for +my infamous work. Gentlemen, you can do with me exactly as you think +fit, but this report, signed by me, shall never go before the world." + +As he said the last words he hastily tore away his own signature, +crushed it in his hands and, crossing the room, threw it into a small +fire which was burning in the grate. + +This action was the signal for great excitement on the part of most of +the directors. Others poured out floods of questions. Lord Grayleigh +alone remained quietly seated in his chair, but his face was white, +and for the time he was scarcely conscious of what he was doing. + +"I have no excuse to offer," continued Ogilvie, "and I refuse to +inculpate anyone with myself in this matter. This was my own concern; +I thought out the report, I worded it, I signed it. Rycroft was more +or less my tool. In the moment of my so-called victory God smote me. +You can do with me just as you please, but the Lombard Deeps Company +must collapse. I have nothing further to say." + +He left the room, dropping the now worthless document on to the table +as he did so. No one interrupted him or prevented his exit. As his +footsteps died away on the stairs the discomfited and astonished +directors looked one at the other. + +"What is the meaning of it all?" said one, going up to Grayleigh; +"you are chairman, and you ought to know." + +Grayleigh shook himself and stood up. + +"This must be a brief madness," he said; "there is no other way to +account for it. Ogilvie, of all men under the sun! Gentlemen, you know +his character, you know what his name was worth as our engineer, but +there is one other thing you do not know. The poor fellow has a child, +only one, to whom he is devoted. I heard this morning that the child +is dying. Under such circumstances his mind may have been unhinged. +Let me follow him. I will return after I have said a word to him." + +The chairman left the room, ran quickly downstairs and out into the +street. Ogilvie had hailed a hansom and was getting into it. + +"One moment first," said Grayleigh. + +"What do you want?" asked Ogilvie. + +"An explanation." + +"I gave it upstairs." + +"You are mad--you are mad." + +"On the contrary, I believe that I am sane--sane at last. I grant you +I was mad when I signed the report, but I am sane now." + +"What packet was that you gave me?" + +"Your money back." + +"The ten thousand pounds?" + +"Yes; I did not want it. I have delivered my soul, and nothing else +matters." + +"Tell me at least one thing. Is this strange action on your part owing +to the child's accident?" + +"It is. I was going headlong down to hell, but God, through her, has +pulled me up short. Gold is utterly valueless to me now. The child is +dying, and I cannot part with her for all eternity. You can draw your +own conclusions." + +As Ogilvie spoke he shook Grayleigh's detaining hand from his arm. The +chairman of the Lombard Deeps Company stood still for a moment, then +returned to the directors. + +As Grayleigh walked slowly upstairs he had a moment's conflict with +his own conscience. In one thing at least Ogilvie was generous. He had +not dragged Lord Grayleigh to the earth in his own fall. The affair of +the ten thousand pounds was known to no one else. + +"He fell, and I caused him to fall," thought Lord Grayleigh. "In the +moment of his fall, if I were even half a man, I would stand by him +and acknowledge my share in the matter. But no; where would be the +use? I cannot drag my children through the mire. Poor Ogilvie is +losing his child, and for him practically life is over." + +Grayleigh re-entered the room where the directors waited for him. + +"I saw Ogilvie just now," he said, "and he sticks to his story. I +fear, too, that I was wrong in my conjecture with regard to his +madness. He must have had a temporary madness when he drew up and +signed the false report. I suppose we ought to consider ourselves +lucky." + +"At least the widows and orphans won't be ruined," said one of the +directors, a thin-faced anxious-looking man. "Well, of course, Lord +Grayleigh, we must all wash our hands of this." + +"We must do so advisedly," was Grayleigh's remark; "remember, we have +gone far. Remember, the cablegram was not kept too secret, and the +knowledge of the excellent report sent by Ogilvie has got to the +ears of one or two city editors. He must give out that there was a +misunderstanding as to the value of the mine." + +"And what of Ogilvie himself?" said an angry-looking man. "Such +infamous conduct requires stringent measures. Do you gentlemen share +my views?" + +One or two did, but most protested against dragging Ogilvie's story +too prominently into the light of day. + +"It may reflect on ourselves," said one or two. "It is just possible +there may be some people who will not believe that he was alone in +this matter." + +Lord Grayleigh was the last to speak. + +"If I were you, gentlemen," he said, moodily, "I would leave Ogilvie +to his God." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +"Philip!" said Mrs. Ogilvie, as he re-entered pretty Silverbel about +four o'clock that afternoon, "I have just had an extraordinary +telegram from our lawyer, Mr. Acland." + +Ogilvie looked full at her but did not speak. + +"How strangely tired and worn you look," she replied; "what can be the +matter with you? Sometimes, when I think of you and the extraordinary +way in which you are acting, I come to the conclusion that your brain +cannot be right." + +"You are wrong there, Mildred. There was a time when not only my brain +but all my moral qualities were affected, but I believe these things +are put right at last." + +He gave a hollow laugh. + +"I am enjoying, for the first time for many months, the applause of an +approving conscience," he continued; "that is something to live for." + +"Have you done anything rash, Philip?" + +"I have done something which my conscience justifies. Now, what about +the telegram from Acland?" + +"He is coming here this evening to have a talk with me. What can he +have to say?" + +"Doubtless his visit is accounted for by an interview I had with him +yesterday. I asked him to explain matters to you, as you and he +conducted the business with regard to this place together. Mildred, +Silverbel must be given up." + +Her face grew red with passion, she felt inclined to stamp her foot. + +"It cannot be," she cried, "we have already paid two thousand pounds +deposit." + +"That money was returned by me to Acland yesterday. He has doubtless +heard of another purchaser. It will be a lucky thing for us, Mildred, +if he takes the furniture as well as the place. Pray don't keep me +now." + +She gave a sharp cry and flung herself into a chair. Ogilvie paused as +if to speak to her, then changed his mind and went slowly upstairs. On +the landing outside Sibyl's door he paused for a moment, struggling +with himself. + +"The bitterness of death lies before me," he muttered, for he knew +that difficult as was the task which he had accomplished that morning +at the Cannon Street Hotel, terrible as was the moment when he stood +before his fellow men and branded himself as a felon, these things +were nothing, nothing at all to that which now lay before him, for +God demanded something more of the man--he must open the eyes of +the child who worshipped him. The thought of this awful task almost +paralyzed him; his heart beat with heavy throbs and the moisture stood +on his forehead. One look at Sibyl, however, lying whiter and sweeter +than ever in her little bed, restored to him that marvellous +self-control which love alone can give. + +Nurse was in the room, and it was evident that nurse had been having a +bout of crying. Her eyelids were red. She turned when she saw her +master, went up to him and shook her head. + +"Leave us for a little, nurse," said Ogilvie. + +She went away at once. + +Ogilvie now approached the bed, dropped into a chair and took one of +Sibyl's hands. + +"You have been a long time away, father," said the child. + +"I have, my darling, I had a great deal to do." + +"Business, father?" + +"Yes, dearest, important business." + +"You don't look well," said Sibyl. She gazed at him, apprehensively, +her blue eyes opened wide, and a spasm of pain flitted across her +brow. + +"I have had a hard time," said the man, "and now, my little girl, I +have come to you, to you, my dearest, to perform the hardest task of +my life." + +"To me, father? The hardest task of your life?" + +"Yes, my little daughter, I have something to say to you." + +"Something bad?" asked Sibyl. + +"Something very bad." + +Sibyl shut her eyes for a minute, then she opened them and looked +steadily at her father, her childish lips became slightly compressed, +it was as if a world of strength suddenly entered her little frame, +as though, dying as she was, she was bracing herself to endure. + +"I am very sorry," she said. "I love you so much. What is it, +darlingest father?" + +"Let me hold your hand," he said. "It will be easier for me to tell +you something then." + +She gave it to him. He clasped it in both of his, bent forward, and +began to speak. + +"At the moment, little Sibyl, when the cablegram which told me of your +accident was put into my hand, I had just done something so wicked, so +terrible, that God Himself, God Almighty, rose up and smote me." + +"I don't understand," said the child. + +"I will explain. The cablegram told me that you were ill, very ill. I +wanted to undo what I had done, but it was too late. I hurried back to +you. God came with me on board the ship. God came, and He was angry; I +had a terrible time." + +"Still I do not understand," repeated Sibyl. + +"Let me speak, my dear girl. I reached home, and I saw you, and then a +temptation came to me. I wanted us both, you and I, to be happy +together for two days. I knew that at the end of that time I must open +your eyes." + +"Oh, we were happy!" said the child. + +"Yes, for those two days we had peace, and we were, as you say, happy. +I put away from me the thought of that which was before me, but I knew +that it must come. It has come, Sibyl. The peace has been changed to +storm; and now, little girl, I am in the midst of the tempest; the +agony I feel in having to tell you this no words can explain." + +"I wish you would try and 'splain, all the same," said Sibyl, in a +weak, very weak voice. + +"I will, I must; it is wrong of me to torture you." + +"It's only 'cos of you yourself," she murmured. + +"Listen, my darling. You have often given thoughts to the Lombard +Deeps Mine?" + +"Oh, yes." She raised herself a little on her pillow, and tried to +speak more cheerfully. "I have thought of it, the mine full, full of +gold, and all the people so happy!" + +Her voice grew quite animated. + +"Any special people, dearest?" + +"So many," she replied. "I told Lord Grayleigh, and he put their +names in his note-book. There's Mr. and Mrs. Holman, the people who +keep the toy-shop; she has a hundred pounds, and she wants to buy some +of the gold." + +"The old pair I saw coming to see you yesterday? Are they the Holmans? +Yes, I remember they told me that was their name." + +"They came, father. I love 'em so much; and there's Mr. Rochester and +Lady Helen, they want to marry. It's a secret, but you may know. And +nurse, she wants some of the gold, 'cos her eyes ache, and you sent a +cablegram, father, and said the gold was there; it's all right." + +"No, Sibyl, it is all wrong; the gold is not in the mine." + +"But you sent a cablegram." + +"I did." + +"And you said it was there." + +"I did." + +She paused and looked at him; her eyes grew full of pain; the pain +reached agony point. + +"You said it?" + +"I did worse," said the man. He stood up, folded his arms across his +chest, and looked down at her. "I did worse, and to tell you is my +punishment. I not only sent that cablegram, but I wrote an account of +the mine, a false account, false as my false heart was, Sibyl, and I +signed it with my name, for the gold I said was in the mine was not +there." + +"Why did you do it, father?" + +"Because I was a scoundrel." + +"What's that?" asked Sibyl. + +"A bad man." + +"No," said the child, "no, you was always my most perfect----" + +"You thought so, darling; you were wrong. Even when I went to +Queensland I was far from that. I could not bid you good-by before I +went, because of the sin which I was about to commit. I committed the +sin, I dropped away from honor, I let goodness go. I did that which +could never, never, under any circumstances, be worth doing, for there +is nothing worth evil, there is nothing worth sin, I see it now." + +"Then you are sorry?" + +"I have repented," he cried; "my God, I have repented," and he fell on +his knees and covered his face. For the child's sake he kept back the +sobs which rose to his throat. + +Sibyl looked at the bent head, at the dark hair already sprinkled with +gray. She lay quite still, there was not the slightest doubt that the +shock was great. Ogilvie waited, longing, wondering if the little +hand would touch his head, if the child would forgive him. + +"She is so holy, so heavenly herself," he murmured; "is it possible +that she can forgive? It must be a cruel shock to her." + +The little, white hand did not touch him. There was complete stillness +in the room. At last he raised his eyes and looked at her. She looked +steadily back at him. + +"And so you was never perfect?" she said. + +"Never." + +"And was mother never perfect?" + +"Not as you think of perfection, Sibyl, but we need not talk of her +now. I have sinned far more deeply than your poor mother has ever +done." + +The puzzled expression grew deeper on Sibyl's face. An old memory of +her mother returned to her. She saw again the scene, and recalled her +mother's words, the words she had overheard, and which the mother had +denied. She was quite still for a full moment, the little clock on the +mantelpiece ticked loudly, then she said slowly: + +"And Lord Jesus, isn't He perfect?" + +Ogilvie started when he heard her words. + +"Aye, He is perfect," he answered, "you are safe in trusting to Him. +He is all that your dreams and all that your longings desire." + +She smiled very faintly. + +"Why did He come into the world?" was her next question. + +"Don't you know that old story? Has no one told you?" + +"Won't you tell me now, father?" + +"The old story was that Christ Jesus came into the world to save +sinners." + +"Sinners," repeated Sibyl, "'cos He loved 'em?" + +"Would He have done that for anything else, do you think?" + +"I 'spect not," she replied, and again the faint smile filled her +eyes. + +"Then He loves _you_," she said, after a moment. "He came from heaven +'cos of you." + +"It seems like it, my little girl, and yet I cannot bring myself to +believe that He can love me." + +"Don't speak to me, father, for a minute; go away, and look out of the +window, and come back when I call you." + +He rose at once, crossed the room, and stood looking out. In a short +time the feeble voice called him back. + +"Father!" There was a change in the face, the look of pain had +vanished, the sweet eyes were as peaceful as ever, and more clearly +than ever did that amazing knowledge and comprehension fill them, +which never belonged to this earth. + +"Kneel down, father," said Sibyl. + +He knelt. + +Now she laid her little hand in his, and now she smiled at him, and +now, as if she were strong and well again, she stroked his hand with +her other hand, and at last she feebly raised the hand and pressed it +to her lips. + +"I am loving you so much," she said, "same as Jesus loves you, I +think." + +Then Ogilvie did give a sob. He checked it as it rose to his throat. + +"It is all right," she continued, "I love you. Jesus is perfect ... +and He loves you." + +"But do you, Sibyl, really love me the same as ever?" he asked, and +there was a note of incredulity in his voice. + +"Seems to me I love you more'n ever" was her answer, and the next +instant her soft arms encircled his neck, and he felt her kisses on +his cheek. + +But suddenly, without warning, there came a change. There was a catch +in the eager, quick breath, the arms relaxed their hold, the little +head fell back on the pillow, the face almost rosy a moment back was +now white, but the eyes were radiant and full of a wonderful, +astonished light. + +"Why," cried Sibyl, "it's Lord Jesus! He has come. He is here, looking +at me." She gazed toward the foot of the bed, her eyes were raised +slightly upward each moment the ecstatic expression grew and grew in +their depths. + +"Oh, my beautiful Lord Jesus," she whispered. "Oh, take me." She tried +to raise her arms and her eyes were fixed on a vision which Ogilvie +could not see. There was just an instant of absolute stillness, then +the clear voice spoke again. + +"Take me, Lord Jesus Christ, but first, afore we go, kiss father, and +tell him you love him." + +The eager lips were still, but the light, too wonderful for this +mortal life, continued to fill the eyes. + +It seemed to Ogilvie that great wings encircled him, that he was +wrapped in an infinite peace. Then it seemed also as if a kiss sweet +beyond all sweetness brushed his lips. + +The next instant all was cold and lonely. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +There is such a thing in life as turning straight round and going the +other way. This was what happened to Philip Ogilvie after the death of +Sibyl. All his life hitherto he had been on the downward plane. He was +now decidedly on the upward. The upward path was difficult, and his +feet were tired and his spirits sore, and often he faltered and +flagged and almost stopped, but he never once went back. He turned no +look toward the easy way which leads to destruction, for at the top of +the path which he was now climbing, he ever and always saw his child +waiting for him, nor did he feel even here on earth that his spirit +was really far from hers. Her influence still surrounded him--her +voice spoke to him in the summer breeze--her face looked at him out of +the flowers, and her smile met him in the sunshine. + +He had a rough time to go through, but he endured everything for her +sake. By degrees his worldly affairs were put into some sort of order, +and so far as his friends and society went he vanished from view. But +none of these things mattered to him now. He was living on earth, it +is true; but all the ordinary earth desires had died within him. The +spiritual life, however, did not die. Day by day it grew stronger and +braver; so it came to pass that his sympathies, instead of dwindling +and becoming small and narrow, widened, until once more he loved and +once more he hoped. + +He became very tolerant for others now, and especially was he tolerant +to his wife. + +He bore with her small ways, pitied her grief, admitted to himself +that there were limits in her nature which no power could alter, and +did his best to make her happy. + +She mourned and grieved and grieved and mourned for that which meant +nothing at all to him, but he was patient with her, and she owned to +herself that she loved him more in his adversity than she had done in +his prosperity. + +For Sibyl's sake, too, Ogilvie roused himself to do what he could for +her special friends. There was a tiny fund which he had once put aside +for his child's education, and this he now spent in starting a shop +for the Holmans in Buckingham Palace Road. He made them a present of +the shop, and helped them to stock it with fresh toys. The old pair +did well there, they prospered and their trade was good, but they +never forgot Sibyl, and their favorite talk in the evenings as they +sat side by side together was to revive memories of the little, old +shop and the child who used to buy the dusty toys. + +As to Lord Grayleigh, Philip Ogilvie and he never met after that day +outside the Cannon Street Hotel. The fact is, a gulf divided them; for +although both men to a great extent repented of what they had done, +yet there was a wide difference in their repentance--one had acted +with the full courage of his convictions, the other still led a life +of honor before his fellow-men, but his heart was not straight with +God. + +Grayleigh and Ogilvie, therefore, with the knowledge that each knew +the innermost motives of the other, could not meet nor be friends. +Nevertheless Sibyl had influenced Grayleigh. For her sake he ceased to +be chairman of several somewhat shady companies, and lived more than +he had done before in his own place, Grayleigh Manor, and surrounded +by his children. He was scarcely heard to mention Sibyl's name after +her death. + +But amongst his treasures he still keeps that little old note-book in +which she begged of him to enter her special wishes, and so much +affected was he in his heart of hearts, by her childish words, that he +used his utmost influence and got a good diplomatic appointment for +Rochester, thus enabling him and Lady Helen to marry, although not by +the means which Sibyl had suggested. + +These things happened a few years ago, and Ogilvie is still alive, +but, although he lives still on earth, he also waits on the verge of +life, knowing that at any hour, any moment, day or night, the message +may come for him to go, and in his dreams he believes that the first +to meet him at the Gates will be the child he loves. + + [THE END.] + + + + +A. L. Burt's Catalogue of Books for Young People by Popular Writers, +52-58 Duane Street, New York + + +BOOKS FOR GIRLS + + +=Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.= By LEWIS CARROLL. 12mo, cloth, 42 +illustrations, price 75 cents. + +"From first to last, almost without exception, this story is +delightfully droll, humorous and illustrated in harmony with the +story."--=New York Express.= + + +=Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There.= By LEWIS +CARROLL. 12mo, cloth, 50 illustrations, price 75 cents. + +"A delight alike to the young people and their elders, extremely funny +both in text and illustrations."--=Boston Express.= + + +=Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe.= By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"This story is unique among tales intended for children, alike for +pleasant instruction, quaintness of humor, gentle pathos, and the +subtlety with which lessons moral and otherwise are conveyed to +children, and perhaps to their seniors as well."--=The Spectator.= + + +=Joan's Adventures at the North Pole and Elsewhere.= By ALICE CORKRAN. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Wonderful as the adventures of Joan are, it must be admitted that +they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. +Altogether this is an excellent story for girls."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Count Up the Sunny Days: A Story for Girls and Boys.= By C. A. JONES. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"An unusually good children's story."--=Glasgow Herald.= + + +=The Dove in the Eagle's Nest.= By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Among all the modern writers we believe Miss Yonge first, not in +genius, but in this, that she employs her great abilities for a high +and noble purpose. We know of few modern writers whose works may be so +safely commended as hers."--=Cleveland Times.= + + +=Jan of the Windmill.= A Story of the Plains. By MRS. J. H. EWING. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Never has Mrs. Ewing published a more charming volume, and that is +saying a very great deal. From the first to the last the book +overflows with the strange knowledge of child-nature which so rarely +survives childhood; and moreover, with inexhaustible quiet humor, +which is never anything but innocent and well-bred, never priggish, +and never clumsy."--=Academy.= + + +=A Sweet Girl Graduate.= By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price $1.00. + +"One of this popular author's best. The characters are well imagined +and drawn. The story moves with plenty of spirit and the interest does +not flag until the end too quickly comes."--=Providence Journal.= + + +=Six to Sixteen=: A Story for Girls. By JULIANA HORATIA EWING. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"There is no doubt as to the good quality and attractiveness of 'Six +to Sixteen.' The book is one which would enrich any girl's book +shelf."--=St. James' Gazette.= + + +=The Palace Beautiful=: A Story for Girls. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"A bright and interesting story. The many admirers of Mrs. L. T. Meade +in this country will be delighted with the 'Palace Beautiful' for more +reasons than one. It is a charming book for girls."--=New York +Recorder.= + + +=A World of Girls=: The Story of a School. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"One of those wholesome stories which it does one good to read. It +will afford pure delight to numerous readers. This book should be on +every girl's book shelf."--=Boston Home Journal.= + + +=The Lady of the Forest=: A Story for Girls. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"This story is written in the author's well-known, fresh and easy +style. All girls fond of reading will be charmed by this well-written +story. It is told with the author's customary grace and +spirit."--=Boston Times.= + + +=At the Back of the North Wind.= By GEORGE MACDONALD. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"A very pretty story, with much of the freshness and vigor of Mr. +Macdonald's earlier work.... It is a sweet, earnest, and wholesome +fairy story, and the quaint native humor is delightful. A most +delightful volume for young readers."--=Philadelphia Times.= + + +=The Water Babies=: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. By CHARLES KINGSLEY. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The strength of his work, as well as its peculiar charms, consist in +his description of the experiences of a youth with life under water in +the luxuriant wealth of which he revels with all the ardor of a +poetical nature."--=New York Tribune.= + + +=Our Bessie.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"One of the most entertaining stories of the season, full of vigorous +action, and strong in character-painting. Elder girls will be charmed +with it, and adults may read its pages with profit."--=The Teachers' +Aid.= + + +=Wild Kitty.= A Story of Middleton School. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Kitty is a true heroine--warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all +good women nowadays are, largely touched with the enthusiasm of +humanity. One of the most attractive gift books of the season."--=The +Academy.= + + +=A Young Mutineer.= A Story for Girls. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"One of Mrs. Meade's charming books for girls, narrated in that simple +and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first +among writers for young people."--=The Spectator.= + + +=Sue and I.= By MRS. O'REILLY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 +cents. + +"A thoroughly delightful book, full of sound wisdom as well as +fun."--=Athenæum.= + + +=The Princess and the Goblin.= A Fairy Story. By GEORGE MACDONALD. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"If a child once begins this book, it will get so deeply interested in +it that when bedtime comes it will altogether forget the moral, and +will weary its parents with importunities for just a few minutes more +to see how everything ends."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Pythia's Pupils:= A Story of a School. By EVA HARTNER. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"This story of the doings of several bright school girls is sure to +interest girl readers. Among many good stories for girls this is +undoubtedly one of the very best."--=Teachers' Aid.= + + +=A Story of a Short Life.= By JULIANA HORATIA EWING. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The book is one we can heartily recommend, for it is not only +bright and interesting, but also pure and healthy in tone and +teaching."--=Courier.= + + +=The Sleepy King.= A Fairy Tale. By AUBREY HOPWOOD AND SEYMOUR HICKS. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Wonderful as the adventures of Bluebell are, it must be admitted that +they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. +Altogether this is an excellent story for girls."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Two Little Waifs.= By MRS. MOLESWORTH. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price 75 cents. + +"Mrs. Molesworth's delightful story of 'Two Little Waifs' will charm +all the small people who find it in their stockings. It relates the +adventures of two lovable English children lost in Paris, and is just +wonderful enough to pleasantly wring the youthful heart."--=New York +Tribune.= + + +=Adventures in Toyland.= By EDITH KING HALL. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price 75 cents. + +"The author is such a bright, cheery writer, that her stories are +always acceptable to all who are not confirmed cynics, and her record +of the adventures is as entertaining and enjoyable as we might +expect."--=Boston Courier.= + + +=Adventures in Wallypug land.= By G. E. FARROW. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"These adventures are simply inimitable, and will delight boys and +girls of mature age, as well as their juniors. No happier combination +of author and artist than this volume presents could be found to +furnish healthy amusement to the young folks. The book is an artistic +one in every sense."--=Toronto Mail.= + + +=Fussbudget's Folks.= A Story for Young Girls. By ANNA F. BURNHAM. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Mrs. Burnham has a rare gift for composing stories for children. With +a light, yet forcible touch, she paints sweet and artless, yet natural +and strong, characters."--=Congregationalist.= + + +=Mixed Pickles.= A Story for Girls. By MRS. E. M. FIELD. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"It is, in its way, a little classic, of which the real beauty and +pathos can hardly be appreciated by young people. It is not too much +to say of the story that it is perfect of its kind."--=Good +Literature.= + + +=Miss Mouse and Her Boys.= A Story for Girls. By MRS. MOLESWORTH. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 Cents. + +"Mrs. Molesworth's books are cheery, wholesome, and particularly well +adapted to refined life. It is safe to add that she is the best +English prose writer for children. A new volume from Mrs. Molesworth +is always a treat."--=The Beacon.= + + +=Gilly Flower.= A Story for Girls. By the author of "Miss Toosey's +Mission." 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Jill is a little guardian angel to three lively brothers who tease +and play with her.... Her unconscious goodness brings right thoughts +and resolves to several persons who come into contact with her. There +is no goodiness in this tale, but its influence is of the best +kind."--=Literary World.= + + +=The Chaplet of Pearls=; or, The White and Black Ribaumont. By +CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. It is one of the best books +of the season."--=Guardian.= + + +=Naughty Miss Bunny=: Her Tricks and Troubles. By CLARA MULHOLLAND. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"The naughty child is positively delightful. Papas should not omit the +book from their list of juvenile presents."--=Land and Water.= + + +=Meg's Friend.= By ALICE CORKRAN. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price +$1.00. + +"One of Miss Corkran's charming books for girls, narrated in that +simple and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the +first among writers for young people."--=The Spectator.= + + +=Averil.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"A charming story for young folks. Averil is a delightful +creature--piquant, tender, and true--and her varying fortunes are +perfectly realistic."--=World.= + + +=Aunt Diana.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last. +This is, both in its intention and the way the story is told, one of +the best books of its kind which has come before us this +year."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Little Sunshine's Holiday=: A Picture from Life. By MISS MULOCK. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"This is a pretty narrative of child life, describing the simple +doings and sayings of a very charming and rather precocious child. +This is a delightful book for young people."--=Gazette.= + + +=Esther's Charge.= A Story for Girls. By ELLEN EVERETT GREEN. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"... This is a story showing in a charming way how one little girl's +jealousy and bad temper were conquered; one of the best, most +suggestive and improving of the Christmas juveniles."--=New York +Tribune.= + + +=Fairy Land of Science.= By ARABELLA B. BUCKLEY. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"We can highly recommend it; not only for the valuable information it +gives on the special subjects to which it is dedicated, but also as a +book teaching natural sciences in an interesting way. A fascinating +little volume, which will make friends in every household in which +there are children."--=Daily News.= + + +=Merle's Crusade.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price +$1.00. + +"Among the books for young people we have seen nothing more unique +than this book. Like all of this author's stories it will please young +readers by the very attractive and charming style in which it is +written."--=Journal.= + + +=Birdie:= A Tale of Child Life. By H. L. CHILDE-PEMBERTON. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"The story is quaint and simple, but there is a freshness about it +that makes one hear again the ringing laugh and the cheery shout of +children at play which charmed his earlier years."--=New York +Express.= + +=The Days of Bruce:= A Story from Scottish History. By GRACE AGUILAR. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"There is a delightful freshness, sincerity and vivacity about all of +Grace Aguilar's stories which cannot fail to win the interest and +admiration of every lover of good reading."--=Boston Beacon.= + + +=Three Bright Girls:= A Story of Chance and Mischance. By ANNIE E. +ARMSTRONG. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The charm of the story lies in the cheery helpfulness of spirit +developed in the girls by their changed circumstances; while the +author finds a pleasant ending to all their happy makeshifts. The +story is charmingly told, and the book can be warmly recommended as a +present for girls."--=Standard.= + + +=Giannetta:= A Girl's Story of Herself. By ROSA MULHOLLAND. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Extremely well told and full of interest. Giannetta is a true +heroine--warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all good women +nowadays are, largely touched with enthusiasm of humanity. The +illustrations are unusually good. One of the most attractive gift +books of the season."--=The Academy.= + + +=Margery Merton's Girlhood.= By ALICE CORKRAN. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The experiences of an orphan girl who in infancy is left by her +father to the care of an elderly aunt residing near Paris. The +accounts of the various persons who have an after influence on the +story are singularly vivid. There is a subtle attraction about the +book which will make it a great favorite with thoughtful +girls."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Under False Colors:= A Story from Two Girls' Lives. By SARAH DOUDNEY. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned stories--pure +in style, original in conception, and with skillfully wrought out +plots; but we have seen nothing equal in dramatic energy to this +book."--=Christian Leader.= + + +=Down the Snow Stairs=; or, From Good-night to Good-morning. By ALICE +CORKRAN. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Among all the Christmas volumes which the year has brought to our +table this one stands out facile princeps--a gem of the first water, +bearing upon every one of its pages the signet mark of genius.... All +is told with such simplicity and perfect naturalness that the dream +appears to be a solid reality. It is indeed a Little Pilgrim's +Progress."--=Christian Leader.= + + +=The Tapestry Room=: A Child's Romance. By MRS. MOLESWORTH. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Mrs. Molesworth is a charming painter of the nature and ways of +children; and she has done good service in giving us this charming +juvenile which will delight the young people."--=Athenæum, London.= + + +=Little Miss Peggy:= Only a Nursery Story. By MRS. MOLESWORTH. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +Mrs. Molesworth's children are finished studies. A joyous earnest +spirit pervades her work, and her sympathy is unbounded. She loves +them with her whole heart, while she lays bare their little minds, and +expresses their foibles, their faults, their virtues, their inward +struggles, their conception of duty, and their instinctive knowledge +of the right and wrong of things. She knows their characters, she +understands their wants, and she desires to help them. + + +=Polly=: A New Fashioned Girl. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +Few authors have achieved a popularity equal to Mrs. Meade as a writer +of stories for young girls. Her characters are living beings of flesh +and blood, not lay figures of conventional type. Into the trials and +crosses, and everyday experiences, the reader enters at once with zest +and hearty sympathy. While Mrs. Meade always writes with a high moral +purpose, her lessons of life, purity and nobility of character are +rather inculcated by example than intruded as sermons. + + +=One of a Covey.= By the author of "Miss Toosey's Mission." 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. This 'Covey' consists of the +twelve children of a hard-pressed Dr. Partridge out of which is chosen +a little girl to be adopted by a spoiled, fine lady. We have rarely +read a story for boys and girls with greater pleasure. One of the +chief characters would not have disgraced Dickens' pen."--=LITERARY +WORLD.= + + +=The Little Princess of Tower Hill.= By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"This is one of the prettiest books for children published, as pretty +as a pond-lily, and quite as fragrant. Nothing could be imagined more +attractive to young people than such a combination of fresh pages and +fair pictures; and while children will rejoice over it--which is much +better than crying for it--it is a book that can be read with pleasure +even by older boys and girls."--=Boston Advertiser.= + + +For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by +the publisher, =A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.= + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: + +1. Minor changes have been made to correct obvious typesetter's +errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the +author's words and intent. + +2. In the advertising pages at the end of this book, the names of +books and reviewers were set in bold type-face; this is indicated by +a = at the beginning and end of the words in bold. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Daddy's Girl, by L. T. 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T. Meade. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + td {vertical-align: top;} + + hr.large {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.medium {width: 45%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.small {width: 15%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} + + div.centered {text-align:center;} /*work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:left;} /* work around for IE problem part 2 */ + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 108%;} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bbox {border: none;} + .centerbox {width: 22em; /* heading box */ + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center;} + .centerbox2 {width: 25em; /* heading box */ + margin: 0 auto; + text-align: center;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .n {text-indent: 0.75em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + .jpg {border: solid 2px;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .smallgap {margin-top: 1.5em;} + .gap {margin-top: 5em;} + .mediumgap {margin-top: 2em;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Daddy's Girl, by L. T. Meade + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Daddy's Girl + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: October 25, 2009 [EBook #30333] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DADDY'S GIRL *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, D Alexander and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 439px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="439" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<h1>DADDY’S GIRL</h1> + +<p class="gap"> </p> + +<h2>BY L. T. MEADE</h2> + +<p class="center">Author of “A Very Naughty Girl,” “Polly, A New Fashioned<br /> +Girl,” “Palace Beautiful,” “Sweet Girl Graduate,”<br /> +“World of Girls,” etc., etc.</p> + +<p class="mediumgap"> </p> + +<p class="center">“Suffer the little children to come unto me.”</p> + +<p class="mediumgap"> </p> + +<h3>A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS</h3> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">52-58 Duane Street, New York.</span></p> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 309px;"> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" class="jpg smallgap" width="309" height="498" alt="DADDY’S GIRL. Frontispiece." title="" /> +<span class="caption">DADDY’S GIRL. <i>Frontispiece.</i></span> +</div> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Contents</span></h2> +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" width="50%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="4" summary="CONTENTS"> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#DADDYS_GIRL">CHAPTER I.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</a></td> +<td align="left"> </td> +</tr></table></div> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="DADDYS_GIRL" id="DADDYS_GIRL"></a>DADDY’S GIRL.</h2> + +<hr class="small" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<p>Philip Ogilvie and his pretty wife were quarrelling, as their custom +was, in the drawing-room of the great house in Belgrave Square, but +the Angel in the nursery upstairs knew nothing at all about that. She +was eight years old, and was, at that critical moment when her father +and mother were having words which might embitter all their lives, and +perhaps sever them for ever, unconsciously and happily decorating +herself before the nursery looking-glass.</p> + +<p>The occasion was an important one, and the Angel’s rosebud lips were +pursed up in her anxiety, and her dark, pretty brows were somewhat +raised, and her very blue eyes were fixed on her own charming little +reflection.</p> + +<p>“Shall it be buttercups, or daisies, or both?” thought the Angel to +herself.</p> + +<p>A box of wild flowers, which had come up from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>the country that day, +lay handy. There were violets and primroses, and quantities of +buttercups and daisies, amongst these treasures.</p> + +<p>“Mother likes me when I am pretty, father likes me anyhow,” she +thought, and then she stood and contemplated herself, and pensively +took up a bunch of daisies and held them against her small, slightly +flushed cheek, and then tried the effect of the buttercups in her +golden brown hair. By-and-by, she skipped away from the looking-glass, +and ran up to a tall, somewhat austere lady, who was seated at a round +table, writing busily.</p> + +<p>“What do you want, Sibyl? Don’t disturb me now,” said this individual.</p> + +<p>“It is only just for a moment,” replied the Angel, knitting her brows, +and standing in such a position that she excluded all light from +falling on the severe-looking lady’s writing-pad.</p> + +<p>“Which is the prettiest, buttercups or daisies, or the two twisted up +together?” she said.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t worry me, child, I want to catch this post. My brother is +very ill, and he’ll be so annoyed if he doesn’t hear from me. Did you +say buttercups and daisies mixed? Yes, of course, mix them, that is +the old nursery rhyme.”</p> + +<p>The little Sibyl stamped a small foot encased in a red shoe with an +impatient movement, and turned <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>once more to contemplate herself in +the glass. Miss Winstead, the governess, resumed her letter, and a +clock on the mantelpiece struck out seven silvery chimes.</p> + +<p>“They’ll be going in to dinner; I must be very quick indeed,” thought +the child. She began to pull out the flowers, to arrange them in +little groups, and presently, by the aid of numerous pins, to deck her +small person.</p> + +<p>“Mother likes me when I am pretty,” she repeated softly under her +breath, “but father likes me anyhow.” She thought over this somewhat +curious problem. Why should father like her anyhow? Why should mother +only kiss her and pet her when she was downright pretty?</p> + +<p>“Do I look pretty?” she said at last, dancing back to the governess’s +side.</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead dropped her pen and looked up at the radiant little +figure. She had contrived to tie some of the wild flowers together, +and had encircled them round her white forehead, and mixed them in her +flowing locks, and here, there, and everywhere on her white dress were +bunches of buttercups and daisies, with a few violets thrown in.</p> + +<p>“Do I look pretty?” repeated Sibyl Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“You are a very vain little girl,” said Miss Winstead. “I won’t tell +you whether you look pretty or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>not, you ought not to think of your +looks. God does not like people who think whether they are pretty or +not. He likes humble-minded little girls. Now don’t interrupt me any +more.”</p> + +<p>“There’s the gong, I’m off,” cried Sibyl. She kissed her hand to Miss +Winstead, her face all alight with happiness.</p> + +<p>“I know I am pretty, she always talks like that when I am,” thought +the child, who had a very keen insight into character. “Mother will +kiss me to-night, I am so glad. I wonder if Jesus Christ thinks me +pretty, too.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl Ogilvie, aged eight, had a theology of her own. It was extremely +simple, and had no perplexing elements about it. There were three +persons who were absolutely perfect. Jesus Christ Who lived in heaven, +but Who saw everything that took place on earth, and her own father +and mother. No one else was absolutely without sin, but these three +were. It was a most comfortable doctrine, and it sustained her little +heart through some perplexing passages in her small life. She used to +shut her eyes when her mother frowned, and say softly under her +breath—</p> + +<p>“It’s not wrong, ’cos it’s mother. Mother couldn’t do nothing wrong, +no more than Jesus could”; and she used to stop her ears when her +mother’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>voice, sharp and passionate, rang across the room. Something +was trying mother dreadfully, but mother had a right to be angry; she +was not sinful, like nurse, when she got into her tantrums. As to +father, he was never cross. He did look tired and disturbed sometimes. +It must be because he was sorry for the rest of the world. Yes, father +and mother were perfection. It was a great support to know this. It +was a very great honor to have been born their little girl. Every +morning when Sibyl knelt to pray, and every evening when she offered +up her nightly petitions, she thanked God most earnestly for having +given her as parents those two perfect people known to the world as +Philip Ogilvie and his wife.</p> + +<p>“It was so awfully kind of you, Jesus,” Sibyl would say, “and I must +try to grow up as nearly good as I can, because of You and father and +mother. I must try not to be cross, and I must try not to be vain, and +I must try to love my lessons. I don’t think I am really vain, Jesus. +It is just because my mother likes me best when I am pretty that I +want to be pretty. It’s for no other reason, really and truly; but I +don’t like lessons, particularly spelling lessons. I cannot pretend I +do. Can I?”</p> + +<p>Jesus never made any audible response to the child’s query, but she +often felt a little tug at her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>heart which caused her to fly to her +spelling-book and learn one or two difficult words with frantic zeal.</p> + +<p>As she ran downstairs now, she reflected over the problem of her +mother’s kisses being softest and her mother’s eyes kindest when her +own eyes were bright and her little figure radiant; and she also +thought of the other problem, of her grave-eyed father always loving +her, no matter whether her frock was torn, her hair untidy, or her +little face smudged.</p> + +<p>Because of her cherubic face, Sibyl had been called the Angel when +quite a baby, and somehow the name stuck to her, particularly on the +lips of her father. It is true she had a sparkling face and soft +features and blue eyes; but she was, when all is said and done, a +somewhat worldly little angel, and had, both in the opinions of Miss +Winstead and nurse, as many faults as could well be packed into the +breast of one small child. Both admitted that Sibyl had a very loving +heart, but she was fearless, headstrong, at times even defiant, and +was very naughty and idle over her lessons.</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead was fond of taking complaints of Sibyl to Mrs. Ogilvie, +and she was fond, also, of hoping against hope that these complaints +would lead to satisfactory results; but, as a matter of fact, Mrs. +Ogilvie never troubled herself about them. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>She was the sort of woman +who took the lives of others with absolute unconcern; her own life +absorbed every thought and every feeling. Anything that added to her +own comfort was esteemed; anything that worried her was shut as much +as possible out of sight. She was fond of Sibyl in her careless way. +There were moments when she was proud of the pretty and attractive +child, but she had not the slightest idea of attempting to mould her +character, nor of becoming her instructress. One of Mrs. Ogilvie’s +favorite theories was that mothers should not educate their children.</p> + +<p>“The child should go to the mother for love and petting,” she would +say. “Miss Winstead may complain of the darling as much as she +pleases, but need not suppose that I shall scold her.”</p> + +<p>It was Sibyl’s father, after all, who now and then spoke to her about +her unworthy conduct.</p> + +<p>“You are called the Angel, and you must try to act up to your name,” +he said on one of these occasions, fixing his own dark-grey eyes on +the little girl.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, father,” answered the Angel, “but, you see, I wasn’t born +that way, same as you was. It seems a pity, doesn’t it? You’re perfect +and I am not. I can’t help the way I was born, can I, father?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p><p>“No; no one is perfect, darling,” replied the father.</p> + +<p>“You are,” answered the Angel, and she gave her head a defiant toss. +“You and my mother and my beautiful Lord Jesus up in heaven. But I’ll +try to please you, father, so don’t knit up your forehead.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl as she spoke laid her soft hand on her father’s brow and tried +to smooth out some wrinkles.</p> + +<p>“Same as if you was an old man,” she said: “but you’re perfect, +perfect, and I love you, I love you,” and she encircled his neck with +her soft arms and pressed many kisses on his face.</p> + +<p>On these occasions Philip Ogilvie felt uncomfortable, for he was a man +with many passions and beset with infirmities, and at the time when +Sibyl praised him most, when she uttered her charming, confident +words, and raised her eyes full of absolute faith to his, he was +thinking with a strange acute pain at his heart of a transaction which +he might undertake and of a temptation which he knew well was soon to +be presented to him.</p> + +<p>“I should not like the child to know about it,” was his reflection; +“but all the same, if I do it, if I fall, it will be for her sake, for +hers alone.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p>Sibyl skipped down to the drawing-room with her spirits brimful of +happiness. She opened the door wide and danced in.</p> + +<p>“Here I come,” she cried, “here I come, buttercups and daisies and +violets and me.” She looked from one parent to the other, held out her +flowing short skirts with each dimpled hand, and danced across the +room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie had tears in her eyes; she had just come to the +sentimental part of her quarrel. At sight of the child she rose +hastily, and walked to the window. Philip Ogilvie went down the room, +put both his hands around Sibyl’s waist, and lifted her to a level +with his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“What a fairy-like little girl this is!” he cried.</p> + +<p>“You are Spring come to cheer us up.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad,” whispered Sibyl; “but let me down, please, father, I want +to kiss mother.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Ogilvie dropped her to the ground. She ran up to her mother.</p> + +<p>“Father says I am Spring, look at me,” she said, and she gazed into +the beautiful, somewhat sullen face of her parent.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie had hoped that Sibyl would not notice <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>her tears, but +Sibyl, gentle as she looked, had the eyes of a hawk.</p> + +<p>“Something is fretting my ownest mother,” she whispered under her +breath, and then she took her mother’s soft hand and covered it with +kisses. After kissing it, she patted it, and then she returned to her +father’s side.</p> + +<p>Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Ogilvie knew why, but as soon as Sibyl entered +the room it seemed ridiculous for them to quarrel. Mrs. Ogilvie turned +with an effort, said something kind to her husband, he responded +courteously, then the dinner gong sounded, and the three entered the +dining-room.</p> + +<p>It was one of the customs of the house that Sibyl, when they dined +alone, should always sit with her parents during this hour. Mrs. +Ogilvie objected to the plan, urging that it was very bad for the +child. But Ogilvie thought otherwise, and notwithstanding all the +mother’s objections the point was carried. A high chair was placed for +Sibyl next her father, and she occupied it evening after evening, +nibbling a biscuit from the dessert, and airing her views in a +complacent way on every possible subject under the sun.</p> + +<p>“I call Miss Winstead crosspatch now,” she said on this occasion. “She +is more cranky than you think. She is, really, truly, father.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p><p>“You must not talk against your governess, Sibyl,” said her mother +from the other end of the table.</p> + +<p>“Oh, let her speak out to us, my dear,” said the father. “What was +Miss Winstead cross about to-day, Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“Spelling, as usual,” said Sibyl briefly, “but more special ’cos Lord +Jesus made me pretty.”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” said the mother again.</p> + +<p>Sibyl glanced at her father. There was a twinkle of amusement in his +eyes which he could scarcely keep back.</p> + +<p>“My dear,” he said, addressing his wife, “do you think Miss Winstead +is just the <span style="white-space: nowrap;">person——”</span></p> + +<p>“I beg of you, Philip,” interrupted the mother, “not to speak of the +child’s teacher before her face. Sibyl, I forbid you to make unkind +remarks.”</p> + +<p>“It’s ’cos they’re both so perfect,” thought Sibyl, “but it’s hard on +me not to be able to ’splain things. If I can’t, what is to be done?”</p> + +<p>She munched her biscuit sorrowfully, and looked with steadfast eyes +across the room. She supposed she would have to endure Miss Winstead, +crosspatch as she was, and she did not enjoy the task which mother and +Lord Jesus had set her.</p> + +<p>The footman was in the act of helping Mr. Ogilvie to champagne, and +Sibyl paused in her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>thoughts to watch the frothy wine as it filled +the glass.</p> + +<p>“Is it nice?” she inquired.</p> + +<p>“Very nice, Sibyl. Would you like to taste it?”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you, father. Nurse says if you drink wine when you’re a +little girl, you grow up to be drunk as a hog.”</p> + +<p>“My dear Sibyl,” cried the mother, “I really must speak to nurse. What +a disgraceful thing to say!”</p> + +<p>“Let us turn the subject,” said the father.</p> + +<p>Sibyl turned it with a will.</p> + +<p>“I ’spect I ought to ’fess to you,” she said. “I was cross myself +to-day. Seems to me I’m not getting a bit perfect. I stamped my foot +when Miss Winstead made me write all my spelling over again. Father, +is it necessary for a little girl to spell long words?”</p> + +<p>“You would not like to put wrong spelling into your letters to me, +would you?” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I’d much care,” said Sibyl, with a smile. “You’d know +what I meant, wouldn’t you, whether I spelt the words right or not? +All the same,” she added, “I’ll spell right if you wish it—I mean, +I’ll try.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a good girl. Now tell me what else you did naughty?”</p> + +<p>“When Sibyl talks about her sins, would it not be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>best for her to do +so in private?” said the mother again.</p> + +<p>“But this is private,” said Mr. Ogilvie, “only her father and mother.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie glanced at a footman who stood not far off, and who was +in vain endeavoring to suppress a smile.</p> + +<p>“I washed my doll’s clothes, although nurse told me not,” continued +Sibyl, “and I made a mess in the night nursery. I spilt the water and +wetted my pinny, and I <i>would</i> open the window, although it was +raining. I ran downstairs, too, and asked Watson to give me a macaroon +biscuit. He wasn’t to blame—Watson wasn’t.”</p> + +<p>The unfortunate footman whose name was now introduced hastily turned +his back, but his ears looked very red as he arranged some glasses on +the sideboard.</p> + +<p>“Father,” whispered Sibyl, “do you know that Watson has got a +sweetheart, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and——”</span></p> + +<p>“Hush! hush!” said Mr. Ogilvie, “go on with your confessions.”</p> + +<p>“They’re rather sad, aren’t they, father? Now I come to think of it, +they are very, very sad. I didn’t do one right thing to-day ’cept to +make myself pretty. Miss Winstead was so angry, and so was nurse, but +when I am with them I don’t mind a bit being <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>naughty. I wouldn’t be a +flabby good girl for all the world.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Angel, what is to become of you?” said her father.</p> + +<p>Sibyl looked full at him, her eyes sparkled, then a curious change +came into them. He was good—perfect; it was lovely to think of it, +but she felt sure that she could never be perfect like that. All the +same, she did not want to pain him. She slipped her small hand into +his, and presently she whispered:</p> + +<p>“I’ll do anything in all the world to please you and mother and Lord +Jesus.”</p> + +<p>“That is right,” said the father, who gave a swift thought at the +moment to the temptation which he knew was already on its way, and +which he would never yield to but for the sake of the child.</p> + +<p>The rest of the dinner proceeded without many more remarks, and +immediately afterwards Sibyl kissed both her parents and went +upstairs.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, little Spring,” said her father, and there was a note of +pain in his voice.</p> + +<p>She gave him an earnest hug, and then she whispered—</p> + +<p>“Is it ’cos I’m a wicked girl you’re sad?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered, “you are not wicked, my darling; you are the best, +the sweetest in all the world.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, no, father,” answered Sibyl, “that is not true. I am not the best +nor the sweetest, and I wouldn’t like to be too good, ’cept for you. +Good-night, darling father.”</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvie returned to the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>“You spoil that child,” said the wife, “but it is on a par with +everything else you do. You have no perception of what is right. I +don’t pretend to be a good mother, but I don’t talk nonsense to Sibyl. +She ought not to speak about nurse and governess before servants, and +it is disgraceful of her to drag the footman and his concerns into the +conversation at dinner. She ought not, also, to boast about doing +naughty things.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you would leave the child alone,” said Ogilvie in an annoyed +voice; “she is good enough for me, little pet, and I would not have +her altered for the world. But now, Mildred, to return to our cause of +dissension before dinner, we must get this matter arranged. What do +you mean to do about your invitation to Grayleigh Manor?”</p> + +<p>“I have given you my views on that subject, Philip; I am going.”</p> + +<p>“I would much rather you did not.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry.” Mrs. Ogilvie shrugged her shoulders. “I am willing to +please you in all reasonable <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>matters; this is unreasonable, therefore +I shall take my own way.”</p> + +<p>“It is impossible for me to accompany you.”</p> + +<p>“I can live without you for a few days, and I shall take the child.”</p> + +<p>“Sibyl! No, I do not wish it.”</p> + +<p>“I fear you must put up with it. I have written to say that Sibyl and +I will go down on Saturday.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie, who had been seated, now rose, and went to the window. He +looked out with a dreary expression on his face.</p> + +<p>“You know as well as I do the reasons why it would be best for you not +to go to Grayleigh Manor at present,” he said. “You can easily write +to give an excuse. Remember, we were both asked, and the fact that I +cannot leave town is sufficient reason for you to decline.”</p> + +<p>“I am going,” said Mrs. Ogilvie. Her eyes, which were large and dark, +flashed with defiance. Ogilvie looked at her with a frown between his +brows.</p> + +<p>“Is that your last word?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“It is, I go on Saturday. If you were not so disagreeable and +disobliging you could easily come with me, but you never do anything +to please me.”</p> + +<p>“Nor you to please me, Mildred,” he was about to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>say, but he +restrained himself. After a pause he said gently, “There is one thing +that makes the situation almost unbearable.”</p> + +<p>“And what is that?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“The attitude of little Sibyl toward us both. She thinks us—Mildred, +she thinks us perfect. What will happen to the child when her eyes are +opened?”</p> + +<p>“Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,” was Mrs. Ogilvie’s +flippant remark. “But that attitude is much encouraged by you. You +make her morbid and sensitive.”</p> + +<p>“Morbid! Sibyl morbid! There never was a more open-hearted, frank, +healthy creature. Did you not hear her say at dinner that she would +not be a flabby good girl for anything? Now, I must tell you that +perhaps wrong as that speech was, it rejoiced my heart.”</p> + +<p>“And it sickened me,” said Mrs. Ogilvie. “You do everything in your +power to make her eccentric. Now, I don’t wish to have an eccentric +daughter. I wish to have a well brought up girl, who will be good +while she is young, speak properly, not make herself in any way +remarkable, learn her lessons, and make a successful <i>debut</i> in +Society, all in due course.”</p> + +<p>“With a view, doubtless, to a brilliant marriage,” added the husband, +bitterly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p><p>“I am going to knock all of this nonsense out of Sibyl,” was his +wife’s answer, “and I mean to begin it when we get to Grayleigh +Manor.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie had hardly finished her words before an angry bang at the +drawing-room door told her that her husband had left her.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie went to his smoking-room at the other end of the hall. There +he paced restlessly up and down. His temples were beating, and the +pain at his heart was growing worse.</p> + +<p>The postman’s ring was heard, and the footman, Watson, entered with a +letter.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie had expected this letter, and he knew what its purport would +be. He only glanced at the writing, threw it on the table near, and +resumed his walk up and down.</p> + +<p>“It is the child,” he thought. “She perplexes me and she tempts me. +Never was there a sweeter decoy duck to the verge of ruin. Poor little +innocent white Angel! Her attitude toward her mother and me is +sometimes almost maddening. Mildred wants to take that little innocent +life and mould it after her own fashion. But, after all, am I any +better than Mildred? If I yield to this”—he touched the letter with +his hand—“I shall sweep in gold, and all money anxieties will be laid +to rest. Little Sib will be rich by-and-by. This is a big thing, and +if I do it I shall <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>see my way to clearing off those debts which +Mildred’s extravagance, and doubtless my own inclination, have caused +me to accumulate. Whatever happens Sibyl will be all right; and yet—I +don’t care for wealth, but Mildred does, and the child will be better +for money. Money presents a shield between a sensitive heart like +Sibyl’s and the world. Yes, I am tempted. Sibyl tempts me.”</p> + +<p>He thrust the letter into a drawer, locked the drawer, put the key in +his pocket, and ran up to Sibyl’s nursery. She was asleep, and there +was no one else in the room. The blinds were down at the windows, and +the nursery, pretty, dainty, sweet, and fresh, was in shadow.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie stepped softly across the room, and drew up the blind. The +moonlight now came in, and shed a silver bar of light across the +child’s bed. Sibyl lay with her golden hair half covering the pillow, +her hands and arms flung outside the bedclothes.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, little darling,” said her father. He bent over her, and +pressed a light kiss upon her cheek. Feather touch as it was, it +aroused the child. She opened her big blue eyes.</p> + +<p>“Oh, father, is that you?” she cried in a voice of rapture.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is I. I came to wish you good-night.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p><p>“You are good, you never forget,” said Sibyl. She clasped her arms +round his neck. “I went to bed without saying my prayers. May I say +them now to you?”</p> + +<p>“Not for worlds,” it was the man’s first impulse to remark, but he +checked himself. “Of course, dear,” he said.</p> + +<p>Sibyl raised herself to a kneeling posture. She clasped her soft arms +round her father’s neck.</p> + +<p>“Pray God forgive me for being naughty to-day,” she began, “and pray +God make me better to-morrow, ’cos it will please my darlingest father +and mother; and I thank you, God, so much for making them good, very +good, and without sin. Pray God forgive Sibyl, and try to make her +better.</p> + +<p>“Now, father, you’re pleased,” continued the little girl. “It was very +hard to say that, because really, truly, I don’t want to be better, +but I’ll try hard if it pleases you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Sibyl, try hard,” said her father, “try very hard to be good. +Don’t let goodness go. Grasp it tight with both hands and never let it +go. So may God indeed help you.” Ogilvie said these words in a +strained voice. Then he covered her up in bed, drew down the blinds, +and left her.</p> + +<p>“He’s fretted; it’s just ’cos the world is so wicked, and ’cos I’m not +as good as I ought to be,” thought <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>the child. A moment later she had +fallen asleep with a smile on her face.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie went to his club. There he wrote a short letter. It ran as +follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">My Dear Grayleigh</span>,—</p> + +<p>“Your offer was not unexpected. I thought it over even +before it came, and I have considered it since. Although I +am fully aware of the money advantages it holds out to me I +have decided to decline it. Frankly, I cannot undertake to +assay the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine, although your offer has +been a great temptation. No doubt you will find another man +more suited for your purpose.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 15em;">“Yours sincerely,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">“<span class="smcap">Philip Ogilvie</span>.”</span></p></div> + +<p>It was between one and two that same night that Ogilvie let himself in +with his latchkey.</p> + +<p>His wife had been to one or two receptions, and had not yet gone to +bed. She was standing in the hall, looking radiant as he had seldom +seen her. She was dressed beautifully, and her hair and neck were +covered with diamonds.</p> + +<p>“What,” he cried, “up still, Mildred? You ought to be in bed.”</p> + +<p>He did not give her any glance of admiration, beautiful as she +appeared. He shivered slightly with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>a movement which she did not +notice as she stood before him, the lamplight falling all over her +lovely dress and figure.</p> + +<p>“I am so glad you have come back, Phil,” she said. “I shall sleep +better now that I have seen you. I hear that Lord Grayleigh has +offered you the post of engineer on the board of the Lombard Deeps +Mine Company.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie did not answer. After a moment’s pause he said in a sullen +tone—</p> + +<p>“Had you not better go to bed? It is much too late for you to be up.”</p> + +<p>“What does that matter? I am far too excited to sleep, and it is wrong +of you to keep things of moment from your wife. This offer means a +large addition to our income. Why, Phil, Phil, we can buy a country +place now; we can do, oh! so many things. We can pay those terrible +debts that worry you. What is the matter? Aren’t you pleased? Why do +you frown at me? And you are pale, are you ill?”</p> + +<p>“Come into my smoking-room,” he said, gravely. He took her hand and, +drawing her in, switched on the electric light. Then he turned his +wife round and looked full at her.</p> + +<p>“This will make a great difference in our position,” she said. Her +eyes were sparkling, her cheeks <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>were flushed, her pearly teeth showed +between her parted lips.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by our position?” he said.</p> + +<p>“You know perfectly well that we have not money enough to keep up this +house; it is a struggle from first to last.”</p> + +<p>“And yet I earn close on six thousand a year, Mildred. Have you never +considered that you are the person who makes it a struggle?”</p> + +<p>“It is impossible; impossible to manage,” she said, petulantly.</p> + +<p>“It is, when you buy all these worthless baubles”—he touched her +diamonds, and then he started away from her. “Why you should saddle +yourself and me with debts almost impossible to meet for the sake of +these is beyond my comprehension; but if you really do want a fresh +toy in the way of an ornament to-morrow you have but to order it—that +is, in moderation.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! I knew you had accepted,” she said, making a quick dancing +movement with her small feet. “Now I am happy; we can have a place if +possible on the river. I have always longed to live close to the +Thames. It is most unfashionable not to have a country seat, and the +child will be well off by-and-by. I was told to-night by a City man +who is to be one of the directors of the new company, that if <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>you are +clever you can make a cool forty thousand pounds out of this business. +He says your name is essential to float the thing with the public.”</p> + +<p>“You know, perhaps, what all this means?” said Ogilvie, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“Why do you speak in that tone, quite with the Sibyl air?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t dare to mention the child’s name at a moment like this. I just +wish to tell you, Mildred, in a few words, what it would mean to the +world at large if I assayed the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, your business terms do so puzzle me,” she answered. “I declare I +am getting sleepy.” Mrs. Ogilvie yawned slightly.</p> + +<p>“It would be better if you went to bed, but as you are here I shall +put your mind at rest. If I accepted Grayleigh’s <span style="white-space: nowrap;">offer——”</span></p> + +<p>“If! But you have done so, of course you have.”</p> + +<p>“If I do, my name as engineer to the company will cause many people to +buy shares. Now, Mildred, I am not sure of the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine. I know more about this business than I can explain to you, and +you have a tongue, and women cannot keep secrets.”</p> + +<p>“As usual, you taunt me,” she said, “but what does that matter? I +could bear even an insult from you to-night, I am so excited and so +pleased. I believe <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>in the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine. I intend to put +all the money I can lay hold of into it. Of course you will assay the +Lombard Deeps? I never could make out what assaying meant, but it +seems to be a way of raking in gold, and I was told to-night by Mr. +Halkett that you are the most trusted assayer in London. Has the +letter come yet? Has Lord Grayleigh yet offered you the post?”</p> + +<p>“The letter has come.”</p> + +<p>“You would make thousands a year out of it. Phil, oh, Phil, how happy +I am! You have replied, have you not?”</p> + +<p>“I have.”</p> + +<p>“Then why do you keep me in suspense? It is settled. What are you so +glum about?”</p> + +<p>“I have declined the offer. I cannot assay the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine.”</p> + +<p>“Philip!” His wife’s voice was at first incredulous, then it rose into +a scream.</p> + +<p>“You cannot be speaking the truth,” she said.</p> + +<p>“My answer is posted. I am not too scrupulous about small things, but +I draw the line at a matter of that sort. Go to bed.”</p> + +<p>She did not speak for a moment, her face turned pale, then she went +close up to him.</p> + +<p>“I hate you,” she said; “go your own way in the future,” and she left +him standing silent.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<p>Sibyl and her mother went to Grayleigh Manor on the following +Saturday. Sibyl was wild with excitement. Nurse was going, of course, +to look after her, but Miss Winstead was to remain at home. Sibyl felt +that she could manage nurse, but there were moments when Miss Winstead +was a little obstinate. She would have a delightful time now in the +country with her perfect mother. Of course, there was the pain of +parting with father, who was just as perfect, if not a little more so. +In her heart of hearts Sibyl felt that she understood her father, and +that there were times when she did not quite understand her mother; +but, never mind, her mother was the perfection of all feminine beauty +and loveliness, and grace and goodness, and her father was the +perfection of all masculine goodness and nobility of character. Sibyl +in her heart of hearts wished that she had been born a boy.</p> + +<p>“I am much more like a boy than a girl,” she thought, “and that is why +I understand father so well. But it will be lovely going to the +country with mother, my ownest mother. I expect I’ll have great fun; +and, as mother doesn’t care so very much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>whether I am perfect or not, +perhaps I can be a little naughty on my own account. That will be +lovely. I can’t be really naughty with father, it is impossible; +father is so very tall up, and has such grand thoughts about things; +but I can with mother.”</p> + +<p>So Sibyl watched the packing of her dainty frocks and gay sashes and +pretty ribbons, and then ran down to the smoking-room to kiss and hug +her father.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie was very grave and silent, and did not say a word, nor draw +her out in any way, and her mother was out most of the time either +paying calls or shopping, and at last the day dawned when they were to +go away. Ogilvie had kissed Sibyl with great passion the night before.</p> + +<p>“Don’t forget me while you are away, little woman,” he said, “and look +after mother, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“She won’t need me to look after her, she’s quite, quite perfect,” +said Sibyl; “but I’m going to watch her, and try to copy her.”</p> + +<p>“Child, don’t do that,” said the man.</p> + +<p>“Not copy my ownest mother? What do you mean, father?”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, darling, God will look after you, I do believe. You are +not far from Him, are you, Sib? You know we call you the Angel. Angels +are supposed to have their home in heaven.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p><p>“Well, my home is right down here on earth,” said Sibyl in a very +contented tone. “I’ll have a real jolly time away, I ’spect.”</p> + +<p>“I hope there will be some nice little boys and girls there with whom +you can play; and go to bed early, Sib, just for father’s sake, and +don’t forget to pray for me.”</p> + +<p>“I will, I will,” said the child; “I always thank God for you because +he made you so beautiful and good.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I am busy now; go to bed, little woman.”</p> + +<p>That was the last Sibyl saw of her father before she went away, for he +did not go to see his wife and daughter off, and Mrs. Ogilvie looked +decidedly cross as they stepped into the train. But they soon found +themselves at Grayleigh Manor.</p> + +<p>Sibyl and her nurse were hurried off to the nursery regions, very much +to the little girl’s secret indignation, and Mrs. Ogilvie seemed to be +swept into a crowd of people who all surrounded her and talked eagerly +and laughed noisily. Sibyl gave them a keen glance out of those very +blue eyes, and in her heart of hearts thought they were a poor lot.</p> + +<p>She and nurse had two nice rooms set apart for their own special use, +a sitting-room and a sleeping-room, and nurse proceeded to unpack the +little girl’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>things, and then to dress her in one of her prettiest +frocks.</p> + +<p>“You are to go to tea in the schoolroom,” she said. “There are two or +three other children there, and I hope you will be very good, Miss +Sibyl, and not spoil this beautiful frock.”</p> + +<p>It was a white cashmere frock, very much embroidered and surrounded by +little frills and soft laces, and, while absolutely simple and quite +suited to the little girl, was really a wonder of expense and art.</p> + +<p>“It’s a beautiful dress,” she said; “you are wearing money now.”</p> + +<p>“Money,” said Sibyl, “what do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“This frock is money; you look very nice in it. Be sure, now, you +don’t spot it. It would be wicked, just as if you were throwing +sovereigns into the fire.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand,” said Sibyl; “I wish it wasn’t a grand frock. Did +you bring any of my common, common frocks, nursie?”</p> + +<p>“I should think not, indeed. Your fine lady mother would be angry if +she saw you looking a show.”</p> + +<p>“If you speak again in that tone of my mother I’ll slap you,” said +Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Highty-tighty!” said the nurse; “your spirit is almost past bearing. +You need to be broke in.”</p> + +<p>“And so do you,” answered Sibyl. “If mother <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>is good you are not, and +I’m not, so we both must be broke in; but I’ve got a bit of a temper. +I know that. Nursie, when you were a little girl did you have a bit of +a temper of your own?”</p> + +<p>“That I did. I was a handful, my mother used to say.”</p> + +<p>“Then we <i>has</i> something in common,” said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling. +“I’m a handful, too. I’m off to the schoolroom.”</p> + +<p>“There never was such a child,” thought the woman as Sibyl dashed +away, banging the door after her; “she’s not shy, and she’s as sweet +as sweet can be, and yet she’s a handful of spirit, of uppishness and +contrariness. Well, God bless her, whatever she is. How did that +heartless mother come by her? I can understand her being the master’s +child, but her mother’s! Dear me, I’m often sorry when I think how +mistook the poor little thing is in that woman she thinks so perfect.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl, quite happy, her heart beating high with excitement, poked her +radiant little face round the schoolroom door. There were three +children already in the room—Mabel, Gus, and Freda St. Claire. They +were Lord Grayleigh’s children, and were handsome, and well cared for, +and now looked with curiosity at Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’re the little girl,” said Mabel, who was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>twelve years of +age. She raised her voice in a languid tone.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I <i>are</i> the little girl,” said Sibyl. She came forward with +bold, confident steps, and looked at the tea table.</p> + +<p>“Where is my place?” she said. “Is it laid for me? I am the visitor.”</p> + +<p>Gus, aged ten, who had been somewhat inclined to sulk when Sibyl +appeared, now smiled, and pulled out a chair.</p> + +<p>“Sit down,” he said; “you had better sit there, near Mabel; she’s +pouring out tea. She’s the boss, you know.”</p> + +<p>“What’s a boss?” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“You must be a silly not to know what a boss is.”</p> + +<p>“I aren’t no more silly than you are,” said Sibyl. “May I have some +bread and butter and jam? I’ll ask you some things about town, and +perhaps you can’t answer me. What’s a—what’s a—oh, I’ll think of +something real slangy presently; but please don’t talk to me too much +while I’m eating, or I’ll spill jam on my money frock.”</p> + +<p>“You are a very queer little girl,” said Mabel; but she looked at her +now with favor. A child who could talk like Sibyl was likely to be an +acquisition.</p> + +<p>“What a silly you are,” said Gus. “What did you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>put on that thing +for? We don’t want frilled and laced-up frocks, we want frocks that +girls can wear to climb trees in, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and——”</span></p> + +<p>“Climb trees! Oh,” cried Sibyl, “are you that sort? Then I’m your +girl. Oh, I am glad! My ownest father would be pleased. He likes me to +be brave. I’m a hoyden—do you know what a hoyden is? If you want to +have a few big larks while I am here, see to ’em quick, for I’m your +girl.”</p> + +<p>Gus burst into a roar of laughter, and Mabel smiled.</p> + +<p>“You are very queer,” she said. “I don’t know whether our governess +will like our being with you. You seem to use strange words. We never +get into scrapes—we are quite ladylike and good, but we don’t wear +grand frocks either. Can’t you take that thing off?”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could. I hate it myself.”</p> + +<p>“Well, ask your servant to change it.”</p> + +<p>“But my nurse hasn’t brought a single shabby frock with me.”</p> + +<p>“Are all your frocks as grand as that?”</p> + +<p>“Some of ’em grander.”</p> + +<p>“We might lend her one of our own brown holland frocks,” said Freda.</p> + +<p>“Oh, do!” said Sibyl; “that will be lovely.”</p> + +<p>“We are going to do some climbing this afternoon, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>so you may as well +put it on,” continued Freda.</p> + +<p>Sibyl clapped her hands with delight. “It’s a great comfort coming +down to this place,” she said finally, “’cos I can give way a little; +but with my father and mother I have to keep myself in.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“It’s mostly on account of my most perfect of fathers.”</p> + +<p>“But isn’t Philip Ogilvie your father?” said Gus.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ogilvie,” corrected Sibyl, in a very proud tone.</p> + +<p>“Oh, fudge! I heard father call him Philip Ogilvie. He’s not perfect.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl’s face turned white; she looked full at Gus. Gus, not observing +the expression in her eyes, continued, in a glib and easy tone:</p> + +<p>“Father didn’t know I was there; he was talking to another man. I +think the man’s name was Halkett. I’m always great at remembering +names, and I heard him say ‘Philip Ogilvie will do what we want. When +it comes to the point he’s not too scrupulous.’ Yes, scrupulous was +the word, and I ran away and looked it out in the dictionary, and it +means—oh, you needn’t stare at me as if your eyes were starting out +of your head—it means a person who hesitates from fear of acting +wrongly. Now, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>as your father isn’t scrupulous, that means that he +doesn’t hesitate to act wrong.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl with one swift, unerring bang struck Gus a sharp blow across the +cheek.</p> + +<p>“What have you done that for, you little beggar?” he said, his eyes +flashing fire.</p> + +<p>“To teach you not to tell lies,” answered Sibyl. She turned, went up +the room, and stood by the window. Her heart was bursting, and tears +were scorching her eyeballs. “But I won’t shed them,” thought the +child, “not for worlds.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl’s action was so unexpected that there was a silence in the room +for a few moments, but presently Freda stole softly to Sibyl’s side +and touched her on her arm.</p> + +<p>“Gus is sorry he said anything to hurt you,” she said; “we didn’t +understand that you would feel it as you do, but we are all sorry, and +we like you all the better for it. Won’t you shake hands with Gus and +be friends?”</p> + +<p>“And I’ll never say a word against your father again,” said Gus.</p> + +<p>“You had better not,” answered Sibyl. “No, I won’t shake hands; I +won’t make friends with you till I know something more about you. But +I’d like to climb trees, and to get into a holland frock.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<p>It was great fun getting into the holland frock, more particularly +when it was discovered to be too short, and also very dirty. It had a +great ink-stain in front, and the sleeves were tight and showed a good +bit of Sibyl’s white arms. She looked at herself in the glass and +danced about in her excitement.</p> + +<p>“You can have this old sailor hat to match the frock,” said Freda in +conclusion. “Now no one will say you are too fine. Come out now, Gus +and the others are waiting.”</p> + +<p>Yes, the sun shone once more for Sibyl, and she forgot for a time +Gus’s cruel words about her father. He was most attentive to her now, +and initiated her into the mystery of climbing. Screams of laughter +followed her valiant efforts to ascend the leafy heights of certain +beech trees which grew not far from the house. This laughter attracted +the attention of a lady and gentleman who were pacing the leafy alley +not far away.</p> + +<p>“What a noise those children make,” said Lord Grayleigh to his +companion.</p> + +<p>“How many children have you, Lord Grayleigh?” <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>asked Mrs. Ogilvie. She +looked full at him as she spoke.</p> + +<p>“I have three,” he replied; “they are great scamps, and never for a +single moment fit to be seen. Since their mother died”—he sighed as +he uttered these words, he was a widower of over two years’ +standing—“I have kept them more or less with myself. There is no harm +in them, although they are pickles. Come, I will introduce you to +them. That reminds me, I have not yet seen your own little daughter.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie was very proud of Sibyl, but only when she looked her +best. The mother now contemplated, with a feeling of satisfaction, the +nice dresses which she had secured for the child before she came into +the country. No one could look more lovely than this little daughter +of hers, when dressed suitably, so abundant was her golden brown hair, +and so blue were her eyes, so straight the little features, so soft +the curves of the rosy lips. It is true those blue eyes had an +expression in them which never in this world could Mrs. Ogilvie +understand, nevertheless, the child’s beauty was apparent to the most +superficial observer; and Mrs. Ogilvie turned and accompanied Lord +Grayleigh in the direction of the merry sounds willingly enough.</p> + +<p>“I see four little figures dancing about among <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>those trees,” said +Lord Grayleigh. “We will see them all together.”</p> + +<p>They turned down a side walk, and came face to face with Sibyl +herself. Now, at that instant the little girl certainly did not look +at her best. The holland frock, short and shabby, had a great rent +above the knee, her soft cheek was scratched and bleeding slightly, +and there was a smudge across her forehead.</p> + +<p>Sibyl, quite unconscious of these defects, flew to her mother’s side.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mummy,” she cried, “I’m so happy. Gus has been teaching me to +climb. Do you see that beech tree? I climbed as far as the second +branch, and Gus said I did it splendid. It’s lovely to sit up there.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl did not even notice Lord Grayleigh, who stood and watched this +little scene with an amused face. Mrs. Ogilvie was by no means +pleased.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Sibyl,” she said, “by wearing that disgraceful +frock? Why did nurse put it into your trunk? And you know I do not +wish you to climb trees. You are an extremely naughty girl. No, Lord +Grayleigh, I will not introduce my little daughter to you now. When +you are properly dressed, Sibyl, and know how to behave yourself, you +shall have the honor of shaking hands with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>Lord Grayleigh. Go into +the house, now, I am ashamed of you.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl turned first red and then white.</p> + +<p>“Is that Lord Grayleigh?” she whispered.</p> + +<p>“Yes, my dear, but I shall not answer any of your other questions at +present. I am extremely displeased with you.”</p> + +<p>“I am sorry you are angry, mother; but may I—may I say one thing, +just one, afore I go?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie was about to hustle the child off, when Lord Grayleigh +interfered. “Do let her speak,” he said; “she looks a most charming +little maid. For my part I like children best in <i>deshabille</i>. What is +it, little woman?”</p> + +<p>“It’s that I don’t want to shake hands with you—never, <i>never</i>!” +answered Sibyl, and she turned her back on the astonished nobleman, +and marched off in the direction of the house.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie turned to apologize.</p> + +<p>“I am terribly ashamed of Sibyl, she is the most extraordinary child,” +she said. “What can have possessed her to put on that frock, and why +did she speak to you in that strange, rude way?” Here Mrs. Ogilvie +uttered a sigh. “I fear it is her father’s doing,” she continued, “he +makes her most eccentric. I do hope you will overlook her naughty +words. The moment I go into the house I shall <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>speak to her, and also +to nurse for allowing her to wear that disgraceful frock.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think your nurse is to blame,” said Lord Grayleigh. “I have a +keen eye for dress, and have a memory of that special frock. It +happens to possess a green stain in the back which I am not likely to +forget. I think my Freda wore it a good deal last summer, and I +remember the occasion when the green stain was indelibly fixed upon +it. You must know, Mrs. Ogilvie, that my three children are imps, and +it was the impiest of the imps’ frocks your little girl happened to be +wearing. But what a handsome little creature she is! A splendid face. +How I have come to fall under her displeasure, however, is a mystery +to me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you can never account for Sibyl’s whims,” said Mrs. Ogilvie; “it +is all her father’s fault. It is a great trial to me, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>“I should be very proud of that child if I were you,” answered Lord +Grayleigh. “She has a particularly frank, fine face.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, she is handsome enough,” answered Mrs. Ogilvie. “But what she +will grow up to, heaven only knows. She has the strangest ideas on all +sorts of subjects. She absolutely believes that her father and I are +perfect—could you credit it? At the same time she is a very naughty +child herself. I will <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>go into the house, now, and give her a talking +to.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t scold her, poor little thing,” said Lord Grayleigh. He was a +kind-hearted man in the main. “For my part,” he continued, “I like +naughty children; I must force her confidence presently. She has quite +roused my curiosity. But now, Mrs. Ogilvie, to turn to other matters, +what can we do to persuade your husband to alter his mind? You know, +of course, that I have asked him to assay the Lombard Deeps Mine?”</p> + +<p>“I do know it,” answered Mrs. Ogilvie, the color flushing into her +face. “Philip is too extraordinary at times. For my part, I really do +not know how to thank you; please believe that I am altogether on your +side. If only we could persuade that eccentric husband of mine to +change his mind.”</p> + +<p>“He is a strange fellow,” answered Lord Grayleigh slowly; “but, do you +know, I think all the more of him for a letter I received a few days +ago. At the same time, it will be prejudicial to our interests if he +should not act as engineer in this new undertaking. He is the one man +the public absolutely trusts, and of <span style="white-space: nowrap;">course——”</span></p> + +<p>“Why do you think more of him for refusing an advantageous offer?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that I can explain. Money is not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>everything—at least, +to some people. Shall we go into the house? I need not say that I am +glad you are on our side, and doubtless your husband’s scruples”—Lord +Grayleigh laid the slightest emphasis on the word, and made it, even +to the obtuse ears of his hearer, sound offensive—“even your +husband’s scruples of conscience may be overcome by judicious +management. A wife can do much on occasions of this sort, and also a +friend. He and I are more than acquaintances—we are friends. I have a +hearty liking for Ogilvie. It is a disappointment not to have him +here, but I hope to have the pleasure of lunching with him on Monday. +Trust me to do what I can to further your interests and his own on +that occasion. Now shall we go into the house? You will like to rest +before dinner.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie often liked to affect weariness, it suited her peculiar +style of beauty to look languid. She went slowly to her room. Her +maid, Hortense, helped her to take off her travelling dress, and to +put on a teagown before she lay down on the sofa. She then told the +girl to leave her.</p> + +<p>When alone Mrs. Ogilvie thought rapidly and deeply. What was the +matter with Philip? What did Lord Grayleigh mean by talking of +scruples? But she was not going to worry her head on that subject. +Philip must not be quixotic, he must accept <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>the good things the gods +sent him. Additional wealth would add so immensely to their happiness.</p> + +<p>“Money <i>is</i> everything,” she thought, “whatever Lord Grayleigh may +say. Those who refuse it are fools, and worse. Lord Grayleigh and I +must bring Philip to his senses.”</p> + +<p>She moved restlessly on her sofa, and looked across the comfortable +room.</p> + +<p>With a little more wealth she could hold her own with her friends and +acquaintances, and present a good figure in that world of society +which was her one idea of heaven. Above all things, debts, which came +between her and perfect bliss, could be cleared off. Her creditors +would not wait for payment much longer, but if Philip assayed the new +mine, he would be handsomely paid for his pains, and all her own cares +would take to themselves wings and fly away. Why did he hesitate? How +tiresome he was! Surely his life had not been so immaculate up to the +present that he should hesitate thus when the golden opportunity to +secure a vast fortune arrived.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie came of one of the best old families across the border, and +had a modest competence of his own handed down to him from a long line +of honorable ancestors. He had also inherited a certain code which he +could not easily forget. He called it a code of honor, and Mrs. +Ogilvie, alas! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>did not understand it. She reflected over the +situation now, and grew restless. If Philip was really such a goose as +to refuse his present chance, she would never forgive him. She would +bring up to him continually the golden opportunity he had let slip, +and weary his very soul. She was the sort of soft, pretty woman who +could nag a man to the verge of distraction. She knew that inestimable +art to perfection. She felt, as she lay on the sofa and toyed with the +ribbons of her pretty and expensive teagown, that she had her weapons +ready to hand. Then, with an irritated flash, she thought of the +child. Of course the child was nice, handsome, and her own; Sibyl was +very lucky to have at least one parent who would not spoil her. But +was she not being spoiled? Were there not some things intolerable +about her?</p> + +<p>“May I come in, Mumsy, or are you too tired?” There was something in +the quality of the voice at the door which caused Mrs. Ogilvie’s +callous heart to beat quicker for a moment, then she said in an +irritated tone—</p> + +<p>“Oh, come in, of course; I want to speak to you.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl entered. Nurse had changed her holland frock, and dressed the +little girl in pale pink silk. The dress was very unsuitable, but it +became the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>radiant little face and bright, large eyes, and pathetic, +sweet mouth, to perfection.</p> + +<p>Sibyl ran up to her mother, and, dropping on one knee by her side, +looked up into her face.</p> + +<p>“Now you’ll kiss me,” she said; “now you’re pleased with your own +Sibyl. I am pretty, I’m beautiful, and you, darling mother, will kiss +me.”</p> + +<p>“Get up, Sib, and don’t be absurd,” said Mrs. Ogilvie; but as she +spoke a warm light came into her eyes, for the child was fascinating, +and just in the mood to appeal most to her mother.</p> + +<p>“Really,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, “you do look nice in that dress, it fits +you very well. Turn round, and let me see how it is made at the back. +Ah! I told Mademoiselle Leroe to make it in that style; that little +watteau back is so very becoming to small girls. Turn round now +slowly, and let me get the side view. Yes, it is a pretty dress; be +sure you don’t mess it. You are to come down with the other children +to dessert. You had better go now, I am tired.”</p> + +<p>“But Mummy—Mumsy!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t call me Mummy or Mumsy, say mother. I don’t like +abbreviations.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” asked Sibyl, knitting her brows.</p> + +<p>“Mummy or Mumsy are abbreviations of a very sacred name.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p><p>“Sacred name!” said Sibyl, in a thoughtful tone. “Oh yes, I won’t call +you anything but mother. Mother is most lovely.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I hope you will be a good child, and not annoy me as you have +been doing.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, mother darling, I didn’t mean to vex you, but it was such a +temptation, you know. You were never, never tempted, were you, mother? +You are made so perfect that you cannot understand what temptation +means. I did so long to climb the trees, and I knew you would not like +me spoil my pretty frock, and Freda lent me the brown holland. When I +saw you, Mums—I mean, mother—I forgot about everything else but just +that I had climbed a tree, and that I had been brave, although for a +minute I felt a scrap giddy, and I wanted to tell you about what I had +done, my ownest, most darling mother.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie sprang suddenly to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Come here,” she said. There was a sharpness in her tone which +arrested the words on Sibyl’s lips. “Look at me, take my hand, look +steadily into my face. I have just five minutes to spare, and I wish +to say something very grave and important, and you must listen +attentively.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, mother, I am listening; what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Look at me. Are you attending?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I suppose so. Mother, Freda says she will <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>give me a Persian +kitten; the Persian cat has two, such beauties, snow-white. May I have +one, mother?”</p> + +<p>“Attend to me, and stop talking. You think a great deal of me, your +mother, and you call me perfect. Now show that you put me in high +esteem.”</p> + +<p>“That sounds very nice,” thought Sibyl to herself. “Mother is just in +her most beautiful humor. Of course I’ll listen.”</p> + +<p>“I wish,” continued the mother, and she turned slightly away from the +child as she spoke, “I wish you to stop all that nonsense about your +father and me. I wish you to understand that we are not perfect, +either of us; we are just everyday, ordinary sort of people. As we +happen to be your father and mother, you must obey us and do what we +wish; but you make yourself, and us also, ridiculous when you talk as +you do. I am perfectly sick of your poses, Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“Poses!” cried Sibyl; “what’s poses?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are too tiresome; ask nurse to explain, or Miss Winstead, +when you go home. Miss Winstead, if she is wise, will tell you that +you must just turn round and go the other way. You must obey me, of +course, and understand that I know the right way to train you; but you +are not to talk of me as though I were an angel. I am nothing of the +kind. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>I am an ordinary woman, with ordinary feelings and ordinary +faults, and I wish you to be an ordinary little girl. I am very angry +with you for your great rudeness to Lord Grayleigh. What did it mean?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, mother! it meant——” Sibyl swallowed something in her throat. +Her mother’s speech was unintelligible; it hurt her, she did not +exactly know why, but this last remark was an opening.</p> + +<p>“Mother, I am glad you spoke of it. I could not, really and truly, +help it.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk nonsense. Now go away. Hortense is coming to dress me for +dinner. Go.”</p> + +<p>“But, mother! one minute first, please—please.”</p> + +<p>“Go, Sibyl, obey me.”</p> + +<p>“It was ’cos Lord Grayleigh spoke against <span style="white-space: nowrap;">my——”</span></p> + +<p>“Go, Sibyl, I won’t listen to another word. I shall punish you +severely if you do not obey me this instant.”</p> + +<p>“I am going,” said the child, “but I cannot <span style="white-space: nowrap;">be——”</span></p> + +<p>“Go. You are coming down to dessert to-night, and you are to speak +properly to Lord Grayleigh. Those are my orders. Now go.”</p> + +<p>Hortense came in at that moment. She entered with that slight whirl +which she generally affected, and which she considered truly Parisian. +Somehow, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>in some fashion, Sibyl felt herself swept out of the room. +She stood for a moment in the passage. There was a long glass at the +further end, and it reflected a pink-robed little figure. The cheeks +had lost their usual tender bloom, and the eyes had a bewildered +expression. Sibyl rubbed her hands across them.</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand,” she said to herself. “Perhaps I wasn’t quite +pretty enough, perhaps that was the reason, but I don’t know. I think +I’ll go to my new nursery and sit down and think of father. Oh, I wish +mother hadn’t—of course it’s all right, and I am a silly girl, and I +get worser, not better, every day, and mother knows what is best for +me; but she might have let me ’splain things. I wish I hadn’t a pain +here.” Sibyl touched her breast with a pathetic gesture.</p> + +<p>“It’s ’cos of father I feel so bad, it’s ’cos they told lies of +father.” She turned very slowly with the most mournful droop of her +head in the direction of the apartment set aside for nurse and +herself. She had thought much of this visit, and now this very first +afternoon a blow had come. Her mother had told her to do a hard thing. +She, Sibyl, was to be polite to Lord Grayleigh; she was to be polite +to that dreadful, smiling man, with the fair hair and the keen eyes, +who had spoken against her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>father. It was unfair, it was dreadful, to +expect this of her.</p> + +<p>“And mother would not even let me ’splain,” thought the child.</p> + +<p>“Hullo!” cried a gay voice; “hullo! and what’s the matter with little +Miss Beauty?” And Sibyl raised her eyes, with a start, to encounter +the keen, frank, admiring gaze of Gus.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say!” he exclaimed, “aren’t we fine! I say! you’ll knock Freda +and Mabel into next week, if you go on at this rate. But, come to the +schoolroom; we want a game, and you can join.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t, Gus,” replied Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Why, what’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t feel like playing games.”</p> + +<p>“You are quite white about the gills. I say! has anybody hurt you?”</p> + +<p>“No, not exactly, Gus; but I want to be alone. I’ll come by-and-by.”</p> + +<p>“Somebody wasn’t square with her,” thought Gus, as Sibyl turned away. +“Queer little girl! But I like her all the same.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<p>Sibyl’s conduct was exemplary at dessert. She was quiet, she was +modest, she was extremely polite. When spoken to she answered in the +most correct manner. When guests smiled at her, she gave them a set +smile in return. She accepted just that portion of the dessert which +her mother most wished her to eat, eschewing unwholesome sweets, and +partaking mostly of grapes. Especially was she polite to Lord +Grayleigh, who called her to his side, and even put his arm round her +waist. He wondered afterwards why she shivered when he did this. But +she stood upright as a dart, and looked him full in the face with +those extraordinary eyes of hers.</p> + +<p>At last the children’s hour, as it was called, came to an end, and the +four went round kissing and shaking hands with the different guests. +Mrs. Ogilvie put her hand for an instant on Sibyl’s shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I am pleased with you,” she said; “you behaved very nicely. Go to bed +now.”</p> + +<p>“Will you come and see me, Mumsy—mother, I mean—before you go to +bed?”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, child, nonsense! you must be asleep <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>hours before then. No, +this is good-night. Now go quietly.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl did go quietly. Mrs. Ogilvie turned to her neighbor.</p> + +<p>“That is such an absurd custom,” she said; “I must break her of it.”</p> + +<p>“Break your little girl of what?” he asked. “She is a beautiful +child,” he added. “I congratulate you on having such a charming +daughter.”</p> + +<p>“I have no doubt she will make a very pretty woman,” replied Mrs. +Ogilvie, “and I trust she will have a successful career; but what I +was alluding to now was her insane wish that I should go and say +good-night to her. Her father spoils that child dreadfully. He insists +on her staying up to our late dinner, which in itself is quite against +all my principles, and then will go up to her room every evening when +he happens to be at home. She lies awake for him at night, and they +talk sentiment to each other. Very bad, is it not; quite out of date.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” answered Mr. Rochester; “if it is an old custom it +seems to me it has good in it.” As he spoke he thought again of the +eager little face, the pathetic soft eyes, the pleading in the voice. +Until within this last half-hour he had not known of Sibyl’s +existence; but from this instant she was to come into his heart and +bear fruit.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p><p>Meanwhile the child went straight to her room.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you come to the schoolroom now?” asked Gus in a tone of +remonstrance.</p> + +<p>“No; mother said I was to go to bed,” answered Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“How proper and good you have turned,” cried Mabel.</p> + +<p>“Good-night,” said Sibyl. She could be quite dignified when she +pleased. She allowed the girls to kiss her, and she shook hands with +Gus, and felt grown-up, and, on the whole, notwithstanding the +unsatisfied feeling at her heart, rather pleased with herself. She +entered the room she called the nursery, and it looked cheerful and +bright. Old nurse had had the fire lit, and was sitting by it. A +kettle steamed on the hob, and nurse’s cup and saucer and teapot, and +some bread and butter and cakes, were spread on the table. But as +Sibyl came in the sense of satisfaction which she had felt for a +moment or two dropped away from her like a mantle, and she only knew +that the ache at her heart was worse than ever. She sat down quietly, +and did not speak, but gazed fixedly into the fire.</p> + +<p>“What is it, pet?” nurse said. “Is anything the matter?”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Sibyl. “Nursie, can I read the Bible a bit?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p><p>“Sakes alive!” cried nurse, for Sibyl had never been remarkable for +any religious tendency, “to be sure, my darling,” she answered. “I +never go from home without my precious Bible. It is the one my mother +gave me when I was a little girl. I’ll fetch it for you, dearie.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” replied Sibyl.</p> + +<p>Nurse returned, and the much-read, much-worn Bible was placed +reverently in Sibyl’s hands.</p> + +<p>“Now, my little darling,” said nurse, “you look quite white. You’ll +just read a verse or two, and then you’ll go off to your bed.”</p> + +<p>“I want to find a special verse,” said Sibyl. “When I have read it I +will go to bed.” She knitted her brows and turned the pages in a +puzzled, anxious way.</p> + +<p>“What’s fretting you, dear? I know the Bible, so to speak, from end to +end. Can old nursie help you in any way?”</p> + +<p>“I know the verse is somewhere, but I cannot find the place. I +remember reading it, and it has come back to me to-night.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, dear?”</p> + +<p>“‘God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble.’”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, love,” answered nurse promptly, “that’s in the Epistle of +St. James, fourth chapter, sixth <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>verse. I learned the whole of the +Epistle for my mother when I was young, and I have never forgotten a +word of it. Here it is, dear.”</p> + +<p>“But what are you fretting your head over that verse for?” asked the +puzzled old woman; “there’s some that I could find for you a deal more +suitable to little ladies like yourself. There’s a beautiful verse, +for instance, which says, ‘Children, obey your parents in the Lord.’ +That means all those in charge of you, dear, nurses and governesses +and all. I heard its meaning explained once very clear, and that was +how it was put.”</p> + +<p>“There is not a bit about nurses and governesses in the Bible,” said +Sibyl, who had no idea of being imposed upon, although she was in +trouble. “Never mind that other verse now, nursie, it’s not that I’m +thinking of, it’s the one you found about ‘God resisteth the proud, +and giveth grace to the humble.’ It seems to ’splain things.”</p> + +<p>“What things, dear?”</p> + +<p>“Why, about mother. Nursie, isn’t my mother quite the very humblest +woman in all the world?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my goodness me, no!” exclaimed the woman under her breath. “I +wouldn’t remark it, my dear,” she said aloud.</p> + +<p>“That’s ’cos you know so very little. You can’t never guess what my +ownest mother said to me to-day, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>and I’m not going to tell you, only +that verse comforts me, and I understand now.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl got up and asked nurse to take off her pink frock. She felt +quite cheerful and happy again. She knelt down in her white nightdress +and said her prayers. She always prayed for her father and mother in a +peculiar way. She never asked God to give them anything, they had +already got all that heart could wish. They were beautiful in person, +they were lovely in character, they were perfect in soul. She could +only thank God for them. So she thanked God now as usual.</p> + +<p>“Thank You, Jesus, for giving me father and mother,” said Sibyl, “and +in especial for making my mother just so truly perfect that she is +humble. She does not like me to think too much of her. It is because +she is humble, and You give grace to the humble. It is a great comfort +to me, Jesus, to know that, because I could not quite understand my +mother afore dinner. Good-night, Jesus, I am going to sleep now; I am +quite happy.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl got into bed, closed her eyes, and was soon sound asleep.</p> + +<p>On the following Monday Lord Grayleigh went to town, and there he had +a rather important interview with Philip Ogilvie.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p><p>“I failed to understand your letter,” he said, “and have come to you +for an explanation.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie was looking worried and anxious.</p> + +<p>“I thought my meaning plain enough,” he replied, “but as you are here, +I will answer you; and first, I want to put a question to you. Why do +you wish me to be the assayer?”</p> + +<p>“For many reasons; amongst others, because I wish to do you a good +turn. For your position you are not too well off. This will mean +several thousands a year to you, if the vein is as rich as we hope it +will be. The alluvial we know is rich. It has washed at five ounces to +the ton.”</p> + +<p>“But if there should not happen to be a rich vein beneath?” queried +Ogilvie, and as he spoke he watched his companion narrowly.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh shrugged his shoulders. The action was significant.</p> + +<p>“I see,” cried Ogilvie. He was silent for a moment, then he sprang to +his feet. “I have regarded you as my friend for some time, Grayleigh, +and there have been moments when I have been proud of your +acquaintanceship, but in the name of all that is honorable, and all +that is virtuous, why will you mix up a pretended act of benevolence +to me with—you know what it means—a fraudulent scheme? You are +determined that there shall be a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>rich vein below the surface. In +plain words, if there is not, you want a false assay of the Lombard +Deeps. That is the plain English of it, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Pooh! my dear Ogilvie, you use harsh words. Fraudulent! What does the +world—our world I mean—consist of? Those who make money, and those +who lose it. It is a great competition of skill—a mere duel of wits. +All is fair in love, war, and speculation.”</p> + +<p>“Your emendation of that old proverb may be <i>fin de siècle</i>, but it +does not suit my notions,” muttered Ogilvie, sitting down again.</p> + +<p>Grayleigh looked keenly at him.</p> + +<p>“You will be sorry for this,” he said; “it means much to you. You +would be quite safe, you know that.”</p> + +<p>“And what of the poor country parson, the widow, the mechanic? I grant +they are fools; <span style="white-space: nowrap;">but——”</span></p> + +<p>“What is the matter with you?” said Lord Grayleigh; “you never were so +scrupulous.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that I am scrupulous now. I shall be very glad to assay +the mine for you, if I may give you <span style="white-space: nowrap;">a——”</span></p> + +<p>“We need not enter into that,” said Grayleigh, rising; “you have +already put matters into words which had better never have been +uttered. I will <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>ask you to reconsider this: it is a task too +important to decline without weighing all the <i>pros</i> and <i>cons</i>. You +shall have big pay for your services; big pay, you understand.”</p> + +<p>“And it is that which at once tempts and repels me,” said Ogilvie. +Then he paused, and said abruptly, “How is Sibyl? Have you seen much +of her?”</p> + +<p>“Your little daughter? I saw her twice. Once, when she was very dirty, +and rather rude to me, and a second time, when she was the perfection +of politeness and good manners.”</p> + +<p>“Sibyl is peculiar,” said Ogilvie, and his eyes gleamed with a flash +of the same light in them which Sibyl’s wore at intervals.</p> + +<p>“She is a handsome child, it is a pity she is your only one, Ogilvie.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” answered Ogilvie; “I never wish for another, she +satisfies me completely.”</p> + +<p>“Well, to turn to the present matter,” said Lord Grayleigh; “you will +reconsider your refusal?”</p> + +<p>“I would rather not.”</p> + +<p>“But if I as a personal favor beg you to do so.”</p> + +<p>“There is not the slightest doubt that the pay tempts me,” said +Ogilvie; “it would be a kindness on your part to close the matter now +finally, to relieve <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>me from temptation. But suppose I were to—to +yield, what would the shareholders say?”</p> + +<p>“They would be managed. The shareholders will expect to pay the +engineer who assays the mine for them handsomely.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie stood in a dubious attitude, Grayleigh went up and laid his +hand on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I will assume,” he said, “that you get over scruples which after all +may have no foundation, for the mine may be all that we wish it to be. +What I want to suggest is this. Someone must go to Australia to assay +the Lombard Deeps. If you will not take the post we must get someone +else to step into your shoes. The new claim was discovered by the +merest accident, and the reports state it to be one of the richest +that has ever been panned out. Of course that is as it may be. We will +present you, if you give a good assay, with five hundred shares in the +new syndicate. You can wait until the shares go up, and then sell out. +You will clear thousands of pounds. We will also pay your expenses and +compensate you handsomely for the loss of your time. This is Monday; +we want you to start on Saturday. Give me your decision on Wednesday +morning. I won’t take a refusal now.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie was silent; his face was very white, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>his lips were +compressed together. Soon afterward the two men parted.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh returned to Grayleigh Manor by a late train, and +Ogilvie went back to his empty house. Amongst other letters which +awaited him was one with a big blot on the envelope. This blot was +surrounded by a circle in red ink, and was evidently of great moment +to the writer. The letter was addressed to “Philip Ogilvie, Esq.,” in +a square, firm, childish hand, and the great blot stood a little away +from the final Esquire. It gave the envelope an altogether striking +and unusual appearance. The flap was sealed with violet wax, and had +an impression on it which spelt Sibyl. Ogilvie, when he received this +letter, took it up tenderly, looked at the blot on the cover of the +envelope, glanced behind him in a shamefaced way, pressed his lips to +the violet seal which contained his little daughter’s name, then +sitting down in his chair, he opened the envelope.</p> + +<p>Sibyl was very good at expressing her feelings in words, but as yet +she was a poor scribe, and her orthography left much to be desired. +Her letter was somewhat short, and ran as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">Daddy Dear</span>,—Here’s a blot to begin, and the blot means a +kiss. I will put sum more at the end of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>the letter. Pleas +kiss all the kisses for they com from the verry botom of my +hart. I have tried Daddy to be good cos of you sinse I left +home, but I am afraid I have been rather norty. Mother gets +more purfect evry day. She is bewtiful and humbel. Mother +said she wasn’t purfect but she is, isn’t she father? I miss +you awful, speshul at nights, cos mother thinks its good for +me not to lie awake for her to come and kiss me. But you +never think that and you always com, and I thank God so much +for having gived you to me father. Your <span class="smcap">Sibyl</span>.”</p> + +<p>“Father, what does ‘scroopolus’ mean? I want to know +speshul.—<span class="smcap">Sib</span>.”</p></div> + +<p>The letter finished with many of these strange irregular blots, which +Ogilvie kissed tenderly, and then folded up the badly-spelt little +epistle, and slipped it into his pocket-book. Then he drew his chair +forward to where his big desk stood, and, leaning his elbows on it, +passed his hands through his thick, short hair. He was puzzled as he +had never been in all his life before. Should he go, or should he +stay? Should he yield to temptation, and become rich and prosperous, +or should he retain his honor, and face the consequences? He knew +well—he had seen them coming for a long time—the consequences he was +about to face would not be pleasant. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>They spelt very little short of +ruin. He suddenly opened a drawer, and took from its depths a sheaf of +accounts which different tradespeople had sent in to his wife. Mrs. +Ogilvie was hopelessly reckless and extravagant. Money in her hand was +like water; it flowed away as she touched it. Her jeweler’s bill alone +amounted to thousands of pounds. If Ogilvie accepted the offer now +made to him he might satisfy these pressing creditors, and not deprive +Sibyl of her chance of an income by-and-by. Sibyl! As the thought of +her face came to him, he groaned inwardly. He wished sometimes that +God had never given him such a treasure.</p> + +<p>“I am unworthy of my little Angel,” he said to himself. Then he +started up and began to pace the room. “And yet I would not be without +her for all the wealth in the world, for all the greatness and all the +fame,” he cried; “she is more to me than everything else on earth. If +ever she finds out what I really am, I believe I shall go raving mad. +I must keep a straight front, must keep as clean as I can for Sibyl’s +sake. O God, help me to be worthy of her!”</p> + +<p>He read the badly-spelt, childish letter once again, and then he +thrust the bills out of sight and thought of other liabilities which +he himself had incurred, till his thoughts returned to the tempting +offer made to him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p><p>“Shall I risk it?” he said to himself. “Shall I risk the chance of the +mine being really good, and go to Australia and see if it is as rich +as the prospectuses claim it to be. But suppose it is not? Well, in +that case I am bound to make it appear so. Five ounces of gold to +every ton; it seems <i>bona fide</i> enough. It it is <i>bona fide</i>, why +should not I have my share of the wealth? It is as legitimate a way of +earning money as any other,” and he swerved again in the direction of +Lord Grayleigh’s offer.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh had given him until Wednesday to decide.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to seem to force your hand,” that nobleman had said to him +at parting, “but if you distinctly refuse we must send another man, +and whoever goes must start on Saturday.”</p> + +<p>A trip to Australia, how he would enjoy it! To be quite away from +London and his present conventional life. The only pain was the +thought of parting with Sibyl. But he would do his business quickly, +and come back and clasp her in his arms, and kiss her again and look +into her eyes and—turn round; yes, he would turn short round and +choose the right path, and be what she really thought him, a good man. +In a very small degree, he would be the sort of man his child imagined +him.</p> + +<p>As these thoughts flashed before his mind he for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>got that dinner was +cooling in the dining-room, that he himself had eaten nothing for some +hours, and that a curious faintness which he had experienced once or +twice before had stolen over him. He did not like it nor quite +understand it. He rose, crossed the room, and was about to ring the +bell when a sudden spasm of most acute pain passed like a knife +through his chest. He was in such agony that for a moment he was +unable to stir. The sharpness of the pain soon went off, and he sank +into a chair faint and trembling. He was now well enough to ring his +bell. He did so, and the footman appeared.</p> + +<p>“Bring me brandy, and be quick,” said Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>The man started when he saw his face. He soon returned with the +stimulant, which Ogilvie drank off. The agony in his chest subsided by +degrees, and he was able to go into the dining-room and even to eat. +He had never before had such terrible and severe pain, and now he was +haunted by the memory of his father, who had died suddenly of acute +disease of the heart.</p> + +<p>After dinner he went, as usual, to his club, where he met a friend +whom he liked. They chatted about many things, and the fears and +apprehensions of the puzzled man dropped gradually from him. It was +past midnight when Ogilvie returned home. He had now forgotten all +about the pain in his chest. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>It had completely passed away. He felt +as well and vigorous as ever. In the night, however, he slept badly, +had tiresome dreams, and was much haunted by the thought of his child. +If by any chance he were to die now! If, for instance, he died on his +way to Australia, he would leave Sibyl badly provided for. A good deal +of his private means had already been swallowed up by his own and his +wife’s extravagant living, and what was left of it had been settled +absolutely on his wife at the time of their marriage. Although, of +course, this money at her mother’s death would revert to Sibyl, he had +a presentiment, which he knew was founded on a firm basis, that Mrs. +Ogilvie might be careless, inconsiderate—not kind, in the true sense +of the word, to the little girl. If it came to be a tussle between +Sibyl’s needs and her mother’s fancied necessities, Ogilvie’s +intuitions told him truly that Sibyl would go to the wall.</p> + +<p>“I must do something better than that for my little daughter,” thought +the man. “I will not go to Australia until I have decided that point. +If I go, I shall make terms, and it will be for Sibyl’s sake.”</p> + +<p>But again that uncomfortable, tiresome conscience of his began to +speak; and that conscience told him that if he went to Australia for +the purpose <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>of blinding the eyes of possible shareholders in London, +he would in reality be doing the very worst possible thing for his +child.</p> + +<p>He tossed about between one temptation and another for the remainder +of the night, and arose in the morning unrefreshed. As he was +dressing, however, a thought came to him which he hailed as a possible +relief. Why not do the right thing right from the beginning; tell +Grayleigh that the proposed commission to visit Australia was +altogether distasteful to him; that he washed his hands of the great +new syndicate; that they might sweep in their gold, but he would have +nothing to say to it? At the same time he might insure his life for +ten thousand pounds. It would be a heavy interest to pay, no doubt, +and they would probably have to live in a smaller house, and he and +his wife would have to put down their expenses in various ways, but he +would have the comfort of knowing that whatever happened Sibyl would +not be without means of subsistence.</p> + +<p>“When I have done that, and absolutely provided for her future, I +shall have a great sense of rest,” thought the man. “I will go and see +Dr. Rashleigh, of the Crown and Life Insurance Company, as soon as +ever I get to the City. That is a happy thought.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><p>He smiled cheerfully to himself, ran downstairs, and ate a hearty +breakfast. A letter from his wife lay upon his plate. He did not even +open it. He thrust it into his pocket and went off to the City, +telling his servant as he did so that he would be back to dinner.</p> + +<p>As soon as he got to his office he read his letters, gave his clerks +directions, and went at once to see Dr. Rashleigh, of the Insurance +Company.</p> + +<p>Rashleigh happened to be one of his special friends, and he knew his +hours. It was a little unusual to expect him to examine him for an +insurance without an appointment; but he believed, in view of his +possible visit to Australia, that Rashleigh would be willing to +overlook ceremony.</p> + +<p>He arrived at the office, saw one of the clerks downstairs, heard that +Rashleigh was in and would soon be disengaged, and presently was shown +into the doctor’s consulting room.</p> + +<p>Rashleigh was a grey-haired man of about sixty years of age. He spent +a couple of hours every day in the consulting room of the Crown and +Life Insurance Company. He rose now, and extended his hand with +pleasure when Ogilvie appeared.</p> + +<p>“My dear Ogilvie, and what do you want with me? Have you at last +listened to my entreaties that you should insure your life in a +first-class office?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p><p>“Something of the kind,” said Ogilvie, forcing a smile, for again that +agony which had come over him yesterday assailed him. He knew that his +heart was throbbing faintly, and he remembered once more that his +father had died of heart disease. Oh, it was all nonsense; of course +he had nothing to fear. He was a man in his prime, not much over +thirty—he was all right.</p> + +<p>Rashleigh asked him a few questions.</p> + +<p>“I may have to go to Australia rather suddenly,” said Ogilvie, “and I +should like first to insure my life. I want to settle the money on my +child before I leave home.”</p> + +<p>“How large a sum do you propose to insure for?” asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>“I have given the particulars to the clerk downstairs. I should like +to insure for ten thousand pounds.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I daresay that can be managed. You are an excellent client, and +quite a young man. Now just let me sound your lungs, and listen to +your heart.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie removed his necktie, unbuttoned his shirt, and placed himself +in the doctor’s hands.</p> + +<p>Dr. Rashleigh made his examination without comment, slowly and +carefully. At last it was over.</p> + +<p>“Well?” said Ogilvie, just glancing at him. “It’s all right, I +suppose.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p><p>“It is not the custom for a doctor at an insurance office to tell his +patient anything about the result of the examination,” was Rashleigh’s +answer. “You’ll hear all in good time.”</p> + +<p>“But there really is no time to lose, and you are an old friend. You +look grave. If it cannot be done, of course it cannot, but I should +like to know.”</p> + +<p>“When do you propose to go to Australia?”</p> + +<p>“I may not go at all. In fact if——” Ogilvie suddenly leaned against +the table. Once again he felt faint and giddy. “If this is all right, +I shall probably not go.”</p> + +<p>“But suppose it is not all right?”</p> + +<p>“Then I sail on Saturday.”</p> + +<p>“I may as well tell you the truth,” said Rashleigh; “you are a brave +man. My dear fellow, the office cannot insure you.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Heart,” said Rashleigh.</p> + +<p>“Heart! Mine? Not affected?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Seriously?”</p> + +<p>“It is hard to answer that question. The heart is a strange organ, and +capable of a vast amount of resuscitation; nevertheless, in your case +the symptoms are grave; the aortic valve is affected. It behooves you +to be very careful.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p><p>“Does this mean that <span style="white-space: nowrap;">I——”</span> Ogilvie dropped into a chair. “Rashleigh,” +he said suddenly, “I had a horrible attack last night. I forgot it +this morning when I came to you, but it was horrible while it lasted. +I thought myself, during those moments of torture, within a +measurable—a very measurable distance of the end.”</p> + +<p>“Describe your sensations,” said Rashleigh.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie did so.</p> + +<p>“Now, my dear fellow, I have a word to say. This insurance cannot be +done. But, for yourself, you must avoid excitement. I should like to +prescribe a course of living for you. I have studied the heart +extensively.”</p> + +<p>“Will nothing put me straight? Cure me, I mean?”</p> + +<p>“I fear not.”</p> + +<p>“Well, good-by, Rashleigh; I will call round to see you some evening.”</p> + +<p>“Do. I should like you to have the advice of a specialist, Anderson, +the greatest man in town on the heart.”</p> + +<p>“But where is the use? If you cannot cure me, he cannot.”</p> + +<p>“You may live for years and years, and die of something else in the +end.”</p> + +<p>“Just what was said to my father, who did not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>live for years and +years,” answered the man. “I won’t keep you any longer, Rashleigh.”</p> + +<p>He left the office and went down into the street. As he crossed the +Poultry and got once more into the neighborhood of his own office, one +word kept ringing in his ears, “Doomed.”</p> + +<p>He arrived at his office and saw his head clerk.</p> + +<p>“You don’t look well, Mr. Ogilvie.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind about my looks, Harrison,” replied Ogilvie. “I have a +great deal to do, and need your best attention.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, sir; but, all the same, you don’t look well.”</p> + +<p>“Looks are nothing,” replied Ogilvie. “I shall soon be all right. +Harrison, I am off to Australia on Saturday.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<p>On that same Tuesday Lord Grayleigh spent a rather anxious day. For +many reasons it would never do for him to press Ogilvie, and yet if +Ogilvie declined to go to Queensland matters might not go quite +smoothly with the new Syndicate. He was the most trusted and eminent +mine assayer in London, and had before now done useful work for +Grayleigh, who was chairman of several other companies. Up to the +present Grayleigh, a thoroughly worldly and hard-headed man of +business, had made use of Ogilvie entirely to his own benefit and +satisfaction. It was distinctly unpleasant to him, therefore, to find +that just at the most crucial moment in his career, when everything +depended on Ogilvie’s subservience to his chief’s wishes, he should +turn restive.</p> + +<p>“That sort of man with a conscience is intolerable,” thought Lord +Grayleigh, and then he wondered what further lever he might bring to +bear in order to get Ogilvie to consent to the Australian visit.</p> + +<p>He was thinking these thoughts, pacing up and down alone in a retired +part of the grounds, when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>he heard shrill screams of childish +laughter, and the next moment Sibyl, in one of her white frocks, the +flounces badly torn, her hat off and hair in wild disorder, rushed +past. She was closely followed by Freda, Mabel and Gus being not far +behind.</p> + +<p>“Hullo!” said Lord Grayleigh; “come here, little woman, and account +for yourself.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl paused in her mad career. She longed to say, “I’m not going to +account for myself to you,” but she remembered her mother’s +injunction. She had been on her very best behavior all Sunday, Monday, +and up to now on Tuesday, but her fit of goodness was coming to an +end. She was in the mood to be obstreperous, naughty, and wilful; but +the thought of her mother, who was so gently following in the path of +the humble, restrained her.</p> + +<p>“If mother, who is an angel, a perfect angel, can think herself +naughty and yet wish me to be good, I ought to help her by being as +good as I possibly can,” she thought.</p> + +<p>So she stopped and looked at Lord Grayleigh with the wistful, puzzled +expression which at once repelled and attracted him. His own daughters +also drew up, panting.</p> + +<p>“We were chasing Sib,” they said; “she challenged us. She said that, +although she does live in town, she could beat us.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p><p>“And it looked uncommonly like it when I saw you all,” was Grayleigh’s +response. “Sibyl has long legs for her age.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl looked down at the members in question, and put on a charming +pout. Grayleigh laughed, and going up to her side, laid his hand on +her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I saw your father yesterday. Shall I tell you about him?”</p> + +<p>This, indeed, was a powerful bait. Sibyl’s soft lips trembled +slightly. The wistful look in her eyes became appealing.</p> + +<p>“Pathetic eyes, more pathetic than any dog’s,” thought Lord Grayleigh. +He took her hand.</p> + +<p>“You and I will walk by ourselves for a little,” he said. “Run away, +children. Sibyl will join you in a few moments.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl, as if mesmerized, now accompanied Lord Grayleigh. She disliked +her present position immensely, and yet she wondered if it was given +to her by Lord Jesus, as a special opportunity which she was on no +account to neglect. Should she tell Lord Grayleigh what she really +thought of him? But for her mother she would not have hesitated for a +moment, but that mother had been very kind to her during the last two +days, and Sibyl had enjoyed studying her character from a new point of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>view. Mother was polite to people, even though they were not quite +perfect. Mother always looked sweet and tidy and ladylike, and +beautifully dressed. Mother never romped, nor tore her clothes, nor +climbed trees. It was an uninteresting life from Sibyl’s point of +view, and yet, perhaps, it was the right life. Up to the present the +child had never seriously thought of her own conduct at all. She +accepted the fact with placidity that she herself was not good. It was +rather interesting to be “not good,” and yet to live in the house with +two perfectly angelic beings. It seemed to make their goodness all the +whiter. At the present moment she longed earnestly to be “not good.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh, holding her hand, advanced in the direction of a +summer-house.</p> + +<p>“We will sit here and talk, shall we?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, shall us?” replied Sibyl.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh smiled; he placed himself in a comfortable chair, and +motioned Sibyl to take another. She drew a similar chair forward, +placed it opposite to her host, and sat on it. It was a high chair, +and her feet did not reach the ground.</p> + +<p>“I ’spect I’m rather short for my age,” she said, looking down and +speaking in a tone of apology.</p> + +<p>“Why, how old are you?” he asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p><p>“Quite old,” she replied gravely; “I was eight at five minutes past +seven Monday fortnight back.”</p> + +<p>“You certainly have a vast weight of years on your head,” he replied, +looking at her gravely.</p> + +<p>She did not see the sarcasm, she was thinking of something else. +Suddenly she looked him full in the face.</p> + +<p>“You called me away from the other children ’cos you wanted to speak +about father, didn’t you? Please tell me all about him. Is he quite +well?”</p> + +<p>“Of course he is.”</p> + +<p>“Did he ask about me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he asked me how you were.”</p> + +<p>“And what did you say?”</p> + +<p>“I replied, with truth, that I had twice had the pleasure of seeing +you; once when you were very rude to me, once when you were equally +polite.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl’s eyes began to dance.</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking of, eight-year-old?” asked Lord Grayleigh.</p> + +<p>“Of you,” answered Sibyl with promptitude.</p> + +<p>“Come, that’s very interesting; what about me? Now, be quite frank and +tell me why you were rude to me the first time we met?”</p> + +<p>“May I?” said Sibyl with great eagerness. “Do you really, truly mean +it?”</p> + +<p>“I certainly mean it.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p><p>“You won’t tell—mother?”</p> + +<p>“I won’t tell—mother,” said Lord Grayleigh, mimicking her manner.</p> + +<p>Sibyl gave a long, deep sigh.</p> + +<p>“I am glad,” she said with emphasis. “I don’t want my ownest mother to +be hurt. She tries so hard, and she is so beautiful and perfect. It’s +most ’portant that I should speak to you, and if you will <span style="white-space: nowrap;">promise——”</span></p> + +<p>“I have promised; whatever you say shall be secret. Now, out with it.”</p> + +<p>“You won’t like it,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“You must leave me to judge of that.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to be fwightfully rude.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! that is highly diverting.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what diverting is, but it will hurt you.”</p> + +<p>“I believe I can survive the pain.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl looked full at him then.</p> + +<p>“Are you laughing at me?” she said, and she jumped down from her high +chair.</p> + +<p>“I would not dream of doing so.”</p> + +<p>The curious amused expression died out of Lord Grayleigh’s eyes. He +somehow felt that he was confronting Sibyl’s father with all those +unpleasant new scruples in full force.</p> + +<p>“Speak away, little girl,” he said, “I promise not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>to laugh. I will +listen to you with respect. You are an uncommon child, very like your +father.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you for saying that, but it isn’t true; for father’s perfect, +and I’m not. I will tell you now why I was rude, and why I am going to +be rude again, monstrous rude. It is because you told lies.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said Lord Grayleigh, pretending to be shocked. “Do you know +that that is a shocking accusation? If a man, for instance, had said +that sort of thing to another man a few years back, it would have been +a case for swords.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand what that means,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“For a duel; you have heard of a duel?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, in history, of course,” said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling, “and one +man kills another man. They run swords through each other until one of +them gets killed dead. I wish I was a man.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really want to run a sword through me?”</p> + +<p>Sibyl made no answer to this; she shut her lips firmly, her eyes +ablaze.</p> + +<p>“Come,” said Lord Grayleigh, “it is unfair to accuse a man and not to +prove your accusation. What lies have I told?”</p> + +<p>“About my father.”</p> + +<p>“Hullo! I suppose I am stupid, but I fail to understand.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p><p>“I will try and ’splain. I didn’t know that you was stupid, but you do +tell lies.”</p> + +<p>“Well, go on; you are putting it rather straight, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I want to.”</p> + +<p>“Fire away then.”</p> + +<p>“You told someone—I don’t know the name—you told somebody that my +father was unscroopolus.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed,” said Lord Grayleigh. He colored, and looked uneasy. “I told +somebody—that is diverting.”</p> + +<p>“It’s not diverting,” said Sibyl, “it’s cruel, it’s mean, it’s wrong; +it’s lies—black lies. Now you know.”</p> + +<p>“But whom did I tell?”</p> + +<p>“Somebody, and somebody told me—I’m not going to tell who told me.”</p> + +<p>“Even suppose I did say anything of the sort, what do you know about +that word?”</p> + +<p>“I found it out. An unscroopolus person is a person who doesn’t act +right. Do you know that my father never did wrong, never from the time +he was borned? My father is quite perfect, God made him so.”</p> + +<p>“Your father is a very nice fellow, Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“He is much better than nice, he is perfect; he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>never did anything +wrong. He is perfect, same as Lord Jesus is perfect.”</p> + +<p>The little girl looked straight out into the summer landscape. Her +lips trembled, on each cheek there flushed a crimson rose.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh shuffled his feet. Had anyone in all the world told him +that he would have listened quietly, and with a sense of respect, to +such a story as he was now hearing, he would have roared with +laughter. But he was not at all inclined to laugh now that he found +himself face to face with Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“And mother is perfect, too,” she said, turning and facing him.</p> + +<p>Then he did laugh; he laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” he said.</p> + +<p>“So you don’t wonder that I hate you,” continued Sibyl, taking no +notice of that last remark. “It’s ’cos you like to tell lies about +good people. My father is perfect, and you called him unscroopolus. No +wonder I hate you.”</p> + +<p>“Listen now, little girl.” Lord Grayleigh took the hot, trembling +hand, and drew the child to his side.</p> + +<p>“Don’t shrink away, don’t turn from me,” he said; “I am not so bad as +you make me out. If I did make use of such an expression, I have +forgotten it. Men of the world say lots of things that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>little girls +don’t understand. Little girls of eight years old, if they are to grow +up nice and good, and self-respecting, must take the world on trust. +So you must take me on trust, and believe that even if I did say what +you accuse me of saying, I still have a great respect for your father. +I think him a right down <i>good</i> fellow.”</p> + +<p>“The best in all the world?” queried Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“I am sure at least of one thing, that no little girl ever had a +fonder father.”</p> + +<p>“And you own up you told a lie? You do own up that father’s quite +perfect?”</p> + +<p>“Men like myself don’t care to own themselves in the wrong,” said Lord +Grayleigh, “and the fact is—listen, you queer little mortal—I don’t +like perfect people. It is true that I have never met any.”</p> + +<p>“You have met my father and my mother.”</p> + +<p>“Come, Sibyl, shall we make a compromise? I like you, I want you to +like me. Forget that I said what I myself have forgotten, and believe +that I have a very great respect for your father. Come, if he were +here, he would ask you to be friendly with me.”</p> + +<p>“Would he?” said the child. She looked wistful and interested. “There +are lots of things I want to be ’splained to me,” she said. Then, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>after a moment—“I’ll think whether I’ll be friends with you, and +I’ll let you know, may be to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>As she said the last words she pushed aside his detaining hand, and +ran out of the summer-house. He heard her eager, quick steps as she +ran away, and a moment later there came her gay laughter back to him +from the distance. She had joined the other children, and was happy in +her games.</p> + +<p>“Poor little maid!” he said to himself, and he sat on grave and +silent. He did not like to confess it, but Sibyl’s words had affected +him.</p> + +<p>“The faith she has in that poor fellow is quite beautiful,” was his +inward thought; “it seems a sin to break it. If he does go to +Queensland it will be broken, and somewhat rudely. I could send +Atherton. Atherton is not the man for our purpose. His report won’t +affect the public as Ogilvie’s report would, but he has never yet been +troubled by conscience, and Sibyl’s faith will be unshaken. It is +worth considering. It is not every man who has got a little daughter +like Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>These thoughts came and worried him; presently he rose with a laugh.</p> + +<p>“What am I,” he said to himself, “to have my way disturbed by the +words of a mere child?” And just then he heard the soft rustle of a +silk dress, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>and, looking up, he saw the pretty face of Mrs. Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“Come in and sit down,” he said, jumping up and offering her a chair. +“It is cool and yet not draughty in here. I have just had the pleasure +of a conversation with your little daughter.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! I do hope she has been conducting herself properly.”</p> + +<p>“I must not repeat what she said; I can only assure you that she +behaved charmingly.”</p> + +<p>“I am so relieved; Sibyl so often does not behave charmingly, that you +don’t wonder that I should ask you the question.”</p> + +<p>“She has a very great respect for you,” said Lord Grayleigh; “it makes +me think you a better woman to have a child regard you as she does.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie fidgeted; she had seated herself on a low rustic chair, +and she looked pretty and elegant in her white summer dress, and her +hat softening the light in her beautiful eyes. She toyed with her +white lace parasol, and looked, as Sibyl had looked a short time ago, +across the lovely summer scene; but in her eyes there shone the world +with all its temptations and all its lures, and Sibyl’s had made +acquaintance with the stars, and the lofty peaks of high principle, +and honor, and knew nothing of the real world.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p><p>Lord Grayleigh, in a kind of confused way which he did not himself +understand, noticed the difference in the glance of the child and the +woman.</p> + +<p>“Your little girl has the highest opinion of you,” he repeated; “the +very highest.”</p> + +<p>“And I wish she would not talk or think such nonsense,” said Mrs. +Ogilvie, in a burst of irritation. “You know well that I am not what +Sibyl thinks me. I am an ordinary, everyday woman. I hope I am”—she +smiled—“charming.”</p> + +<p>“You are that, undoubtedly,” said the nobleman, slightly bowing his +head.</p> + +<p>“I hope I am what a man most likes in a woman, agreeable, charming, +and fairly amiable; but I am no saint, and I don’t want to be. Sibyl’s +attitude towards me is therefore most irritating, and I am doing my +<span style="white-space: nowrap;">utmost——”</span></p> + +<p>“You are doing what?” said Lord Grayleigh. He rose, and stood by the +summer-house door.</p> + +<p>“To open her eyes.”</p> + +<p>“I would not if I were you,” he said, gravely; “it is not often that a +child has her faith. To shake it means a great deal.”</p> + +<p>“What are you talking about now?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t often read my Bible,” he continued, “but, of course, I did as +a boy—most boys do. My mother <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>was a good woman. I am thinking of +something said in that Holy Book.”</p> + +<p>“You are quite serious; I never knew you in this mood before.”</p> + +<p>“I must tell it to you. ‘Whosoever shall offend one of these little +ones, it were better that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and +he were cast into the depths of the sea.’”</p> + +<p>“How unpleasant,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, after a pause, “and I rather fail +to see the connection. Shall we change the subject?”</p> + +<p>“With pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“What arrangement did you make with Philip yesterday?”</p> + +<p>“I made no absolute arrangement, but I think he will do according to +your wishes.”</p> + +<p>“Then he will assay the mine, act as the engineer to the company?”</p> + +<p>“Precisely.”</p> + +<p>“Has he promised?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet, but my impression is that he will do it.”</p> + +<p>“What does assaying the mine mean?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie knitted her pretty dark brows, and looked as inquisitive +and childish at that moment as Sibyl herself.</p> + +<p>“To assay a mine means to find out accurately <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>what it contains,” said +Lord Grayleigh. Once again his eyes turned away from his questioner. +He had very little respect for Mrs. Ogilvie’s conscience, but he did +not want to meet anyone’s gaze at that instant.</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless,” he continued, after a pause, “your husband has not +definitely promised, and it is on the cards that he may refuse.”</p> + +<p>“He will be a madman if he does,” cried Mrs. Ogilvie, and she stamped +her pretty foot impatiently.</p> + +<p>“According to Sibyl’s light, he will be the reverse of that; but then, +Sibyl, and your husband also, believe in such a thing as conscience.”</p> + +<p>“Philip’s conscience!” said the wife, with a sneer; “what next?”</p> + +<p>“It appears to me,” said Lord Grayleigh, “that he has an active one.”</p> + +<p>“It has come to life very quickly, then. This is mere humbug.”</p> + +<p>“Let me speak. To be frank with you, I respect your husband’s +conscience; and, perhaps, if you respected it <span style="white-space: nowrap;">more——”</span></p> + +<p>“I really will not stay here to be lectured,” said Mrs. Ogilvie. “It +is to your advantage, doubtless, that Philip should do something for +you; it must be to your advantage, for you are going to pay him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>well. +Will he do it, or will he not? That is the question I want answered.”</p> + +<p>“And I cannot answer it, for I do not know.”</p> + +<p>“But you think he will?”</p> + +<p>“That is my impression.”</p> + +<p>“You can, at least, tell me what occurred.”</p> + +<p>“I can give you an outline of what occurred. I made him an offer to go +to Queensland.”</p> + +<p>“To go where?” said Mrs. Ogilvie, looking slightly startled.</p> + +<p>“As the mine happens to be in Queensland, how can he assay it in +England?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if he does anything, he must go to Queensland. He must see the +mine or mines himself; his personal report is essential. He will be +paid well, and will receive a large number of shares.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by being paid well?”</p> + +<p>“He will have his expenses, and something over.”</p> + +<p>“Something over! that is a very elastic term.”</p> + +<p>“In your husband’s case it will mean thousands.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see; and then the shares?”</p> + +<p>“The shares will practically make him a rich man.”</p> + +<p>“Then of course he will consent. I will go at once, and send him a +line.” She turned to leave the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>summer-house. Lord Grayleigh followed +her. He laid his hand for an instant on her slim arm.</p> + +<p>“If I were you,” he said, and there was an unwonted tremble in his +voice as he spoke, “if I were you, upon my honor, I’d leave him +alone.”</p> + +<p>“Leave him alone now? Why should not the wife influence the husband +for his own good?”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Lord Grayleigh; “I only ventured to make a +suggestion.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him in a puzzled way, raised her brows, and said:</p> + +<p>“I never found you so disagreeable before.” She then left the +summer-house.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh stood still for a moment, then, with quick strides, he +went in the direction of the shrubbery. Sibyl, hot, excited, +breathless after her game, did not even see him. He called her and she +stopped.</p> + +<p>“May I speak to you?” he said. He had the courteous manner to her +which he did not vouch-safe to many of his gay lady acquaintances.</p> + +<p>She ran to his side at once.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you want to send your father a letter by this post?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course; is there time?”</p> + +<p>“I will make time; go into the house and write to him.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p><p>“But why?”</p> + +<p>“He would like to hear from you.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want me to say anything special?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing special; write to him from your heart, that is all.” And then +Lord Grayleigh turned away in the direction of his stables. He ordered +the groom to saddle his favorite horse, and was soon careering across +country. Sibyl’s letter to her father was short, badly spelt, and +brimful of love. Mrs. Ogilvie’s was also short, and brimful of +worldliness.</p> + +<p>The two letters, each as wide as the poles apart in spirit and in +intention, met in the post-box, and were each carried as rapidly as +mail trains could take them to the metropolis.</p> + +<p>On the next morning these letters lay beside Philip Ogilvie’s plate at +breakfast. Sibyl’s was well blotted and sealed with her favorite +violet seal. Mrs. Ogilvie’s was trim, neat, and without a blemish. +Ogilvie read them both, first the mother’s, then the child’s. Sibyl’s +was almost all kisses: hardly any words, just blots and kisses. +Ogilvie did not press his lips to the kisses this time. He read the +letter quickly, thrust it into his pocket, and once more turned his +attention to what his wife had said. He smiled sarcastically as he +read. The evening before he had written Lord Grayleigh accepting the +proffered engagement. The die was cast.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<p>The following letter reached Philip Ogilvie late that same evening:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">My Dear Ogilvie</span>,</p> + +<p>Your decision is naturally all that can be desired, and I +only hope you may never live to regret it. I have, most +unfortunately, given my ankle a bad sprain. I had a fall +yesterday when out riding, and am obliged to lie up for a +day or two. There is much that I should wish to talk over +with you before you go to Queensland. Can you come down here +to-morrow by the first train? I will not detain you an hour +longer than I can help. All other arrangements are in the +hands of my agents, Messrs. Spielmann & Co.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 15em;">Yours sincerely,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17em;"><span class="smcap">Grayleigh.</span></span></p></div> + +<p>Ogilvie read this letter quickly. He knit his brow as he did so. It +annoyed him a good deal.</p> + +<p>“I did not want to go there,” he thought. “I am doing this principally +for the sake of the child. I can arrange all financial matters through +Spielmann. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>Grayleigh wants this thing done; I alone can do it to his +satisfaction and to the satisfaction of the public. He must pay +me—what he pays will be Sibyl’s, the provision for her future. But I +don’t want to see the child—until all this dirty work is over. If I +come back things may be altered. God only knows what may have +occurred. The mine may be all right, there may be deliverance, but I +didn’t want to see her before I go. It is possible that I may not be +able to keep my composure. There are a hundred things which make an +interview between the child and me undesirable.”</p> + +<p>He thought and thought, and at last rose from his chair and began to +pace the room. He had not suffered from his heart since his interview +with Dr. Rashleigh. He gave it but scant consideration now.</p> + +<p>“If I have a fatal disease it behooves me to act as if I were +absolutely sound,” he said to himself. And he had so acted after the +first shock of Rashleigh’s verdict had passed off. But he did not like +the thought of seeing Sibyl. Still, Grayleigh’s letter could not be +lightly disregarded. If Grayleigh wished to see him and could not come +to town, it was essential that he should go to him.</p> + +<p>He rang his bell and sent off a telegram to the effect that he would +arrive at Grayleigh Manor at an early hour on the following day.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p><p>This telegram Lord Grayleigh showed to Mrs. Ogilvie before she went to +bed that night.</p> + +<p>“He has consented to go, as of course you are well aware,” said Lord +Grayleigh, “and he comes here to see me to-morrow. But I would not say +anything about his departure for Queensland to your little daughter, +until after his visit. He may have something to say in the matter. Let +him, if he wishes it, be the one to break it to her.”</p> + +<p>“But why should not the child know? How ridiculous you are!”</p> + +<p>“That is exactly as her father pleases,” replied Lord Grayleigh. “I +have a kind of intuition that he may want to tell her himself. Anyhow, +I trust you will oblige me in the matter.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie pouted. She was not enjoying herself as much at Grayleigh +Manor as she had expected, and, somehow or other, she felt that she +was in disgrace. This was by no means an agreeable sensation. She +wondered why she was not in higher spirits. To visit Australia +nowadays was a mere nothing. Her husband would be back again, a rich +man, in six months at the farthest. During those six months she +herself might have a good time. There were several country houses +where she might visit. Her visiting list was already nearly full. She +would take Sibyl with her, although Sibyl sometimes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>was the reverse +of comforting; but it looked effective to see the handsome mother and +the beautiful child together, and Sibyl, when she did not go too far, +said very pathetic and pretty things about her. Oh yes, she and her +little daughter would have a good time, while the husband and father +was earning money for them in Australia: while the husband and father +was raking in gold, they might really enjoy themselves.</p> + +<p>As she thought of this, Mrs. Ogilvie felt so light-hearted that she +could have skipped. Those debts which had weighed so on what she was +pleased to call her conscience, would be liquidated once and for all, +and in the future she would have plenty of money. It was the be-all of +existence to her feeble soul. She would have it in abundance in the +time which lay before her.</p> + +<p>“Philip is a wise man. It was very silly of him to hesitate and make a +fuss,” she thought; “but he has decided wisely, as I knew he would. I +shall give him a kiss when I see him, and tell him that I am quite +pleased with him.”</p> + +<p>She went to bed, therefore, cheerful, and the next morning put on her +very prettiest dress in order to meet her husband.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie walked from the little station, which was only half a mile +away. Mrs. Ogilvie, going slowly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>up the avenue, saw him coming to +meet her. She stood under the shade of a great overhanging beech tree, +and waited until he appeared.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mildred, and how are you?” said her husband. He took her hand, +and, bending forward, brushed the lightest of kisses against her +cheek.</p> + +<p>“Quite well,” she replied. “Is not the day pleasant? I am so glad +about everything, Phil. But you don’t look quite the thing yourself. +Have you taken cold or suffered from one of those nasty rheumatic +attacks?”</p> + +<p>“I am all right,” he answered shortly. “I have a very few moments to +be here, as I want to catch the 12.30 back. Do you know if Lord +Grayleigh is anywhere to be found?”</p> + +<p>“I saw him half an hour ago. I think you will find him in the +smoking-room. He is expecting you.”</p> + +<p>“And”—Ogilvie glanced to right and left—“the child?”</p> + +<p>“She is with the other children. Shall I send her to you?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet.”</p> + +<p>“It is so nice of you to go, Phil; it will do you no end of good. You +will enjoy your voyage,” continued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning now and +laying her hand on her husband’s arm.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p><p>Mr. Rochester, who was quite a young man himself, and was deeply +occupied at this time with thoughts of love and marriage, happened to +see the pair as they sauntered by together. He knew nothing, of +course, of Ogilvie’s intended visit to Australia, nor was he in any +sense of the word behind the scenes. On the contrary, he thought that +Mrs. Ogilvie and her husband made a perfect picture of beautiful love +between husband and wife.</p> + +<p>“It is good of you,” pursued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning once more to her +husband. “I am greatly obliged. I am more than obliged, I am relieved +and—and satisfied. We shall have a happy life together when you come +back. There are, of course, little matters we ought to talk over +before we go.”</p> + +<p>“Debts, you mean,” said Ogilvie, bluntly. “I opened your bills in your +absence. They will <span style="white-space: nowrap;">be——”</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, Phil!” Mrs. Ogilvie’s face turned very white.</p> + +<p>“I will speak about them before I leave,” he continued. “Now I must +find Grayleigh.”</p> + +<p>“Is it true that you are going on Saturday?”</p> + +<p>“Quite true.”</p> + +<p>“Had I not better return to town with you? There will be several +things to put in order.”</p> + +<p>“I can write to you, Mildred. Now that you are here you had better +stay here. The change will be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>good for you. You need not return to +the house in town before next week.”</p> + +<p>“If you really don’t want me, I am certainly enjoying myself here.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want you,” he replied, but as he spoke his grey eyes looked +wistful. He turned for an instant and glanced at her. He noted the +sunny, lovely hair, the agile, youthful, rounded figure. Once he had +loved her passionately.</p> + +<p>“Sibyl will be delighted to see you,” continued Mrs. Ogilvie. “She has +been, on the whole, behaving very nicely. Of course, making both +friends and foes, as is her usual impetuous way.”</p> + +<p>“That reminds me,” said Ogilvie. “I shall see Sibyl before I leave; +but that reminds me.”</p> + +<p>“Of what?”</p> + +<p>“I do not wish her to be told.”</p> + +<p>“Told what? What do you mean? My dear Phil, you are eccentric.”</p> + +<p>“I have no time to dispute the point, Mildred. I wish to give one +hasty direction, which is to be obeyed. Sibyl is not to be told that I +am going to Australia.”</p> + +<p>“What, never?”</p> + +<p>“She must be told when I am gone, but not till then. I will write to +her, and thus break the news. She is not to be told to-day, not until +she gets home, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>you understand? I won’t go at all if you tell her.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, of course, I understand,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, in a frightened way; +“but why should not the child hear what really is good tidings?”</p> + +<p>“I do not wish it. Now, have you anything further to say, for I must +see Lord Grayleigh immediately.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie clutched her husband’s arm.</p> + +<p>“You will leave me plenty of money when you go, will you not?”</p> + +<p>“You shall have a bank-book and an account, but you must be careful. +My affairs are not in the most prosperous condition, and your bills +are terribly heavy.”</p> + +<p>“My bills! but I <span style="white-space: nowrap;">really——”</span></p> + +<p>“We will not dispute them. They shall be paid before I go.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear Philip, and you are not angry?”</p> + +<p>“They shall be paid, Mildred. The liquidation of your debts is part of +the reward for taking up this loathsome work.”</p> + +<p>“Philip, how ridiculously morbid you are!”</p> + +<p>The husband and wife walked slower and slower. Ogilvie saw Grayleigh +standing on the steps.</p> + +<p>“There is Lord Grayleigh,” he said. “I must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>go at once. Yes, the +bills will be paid.” He laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“There is nothing else, is there, Mildred?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she began, then she hesitated.</p> + +<p>“What more?”</p> + +<p>“A trinket, it took my fancy—a diamond cross—you noticed it. I could +not resist it.”</p> + +<p>“How much?” said the man. His face was very stern and white, and there +was a blue look round his lips.</p> + +<p>“Two thousand pounds.”</p> + +<p>“Let me have the bill to-morrow at latest. It shall be cleared. Now +don’t keep me.”</p> + +<p>He strode past her and went up to where Lord Grayleigh was waiting for +him.</p> + +<p>“This is good,” said the nobleman. “I am very sorry I could not come +to town. Yes, my ankle is better, but I dare not use it. I am limping, +as you see.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we go into the house?” said Ogilvie; “I want to get this thing +over. I have not a moment if I am to start on Saturday.”</p> + +<p>“You must do what we want. The public are impatient. We must get your +report as soon as possible. You will wire it to us, of course.”</p> + +<p>“That depends.”</p> + +<p>“Now listen, Ogilvie,” said Lord Grayleigh, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>they both entered the +study of the latter and Ogilvie sank into a chair, “you either do this +thing properly or you decline it, you give it up.”</p> + +<p>“Can I? I thought the die was cast.”</p> + +<p>“The worldly man in me echoes that hope, but I <i>could</i> get Atherton to +take your place even now.”</p> + +<p>“Even now?” echoed Philip Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“Even now it may be possible to manage it, although I”—Lord Grayleigh +had a flashing memory of Sibyl’s face and the look in her eyes, when +she spoke of her perfect father. Then he glanced at the man who, +silent and with suppressed suffering in his face, stood before him. +The irresolution in Ogilvie’s face took something from its character, +and seemed to lower the man’s whole nature. Lord Grayleigh shivered; +then the uncomfortable sensation which the memory of Sibyl gave him +passed away.</p> + +<p>“I shall regret it extremely if you cannot do what I want,” he said, +with emphasis.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie had a quick sensation of momentary relief. His wife owed +another two thousand pounds. It would be bankruptcy, ruin if he did +not go. He stood up.</p> + +<p>“The time for discussing the thing is over,” he said. “I will +go—and—do <i>as you wish</i>. The only thing to put straight is the price +down.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p><p>“What do you mean by the price down?”</p> + +<p>“I want money.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, you shall have it.”</p> + +<p>“I want more than my expenses, and something to cover the loss to my +business which my absence may create.”</p> + +<p>“How much more?” Lord Grayleigh looked at him anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand pounds in cash now, to be placed to my credit in my +bank.”</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand pounds in cash! That is a big order.”</p> + +<p>“Not too big for what you require me to do. You make hundreds of +thousands by me eventually; what is one ten thousand? It will relieve +my mind and set a certain matter straight. The fact is—I will confide +in you so far—my own pecuniary affairs are anything but flourishing. +I have had some calls to meet. What little property I own is settled +on my wife. You know that a man cannot interfere with his marriage +settlements. I have one child. I want to make a special provision for +her.”</p> + +<p>“I know your child,” said Lord Grayleigh, in a very grave tone; “she +is out of the common.”</p> + +<p>A spasm of pain crossed the father’s face.</p> + +<p>“She is,” he answered slowly. “I wish to make a provision for her. If +I die (I may die, we are all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>mortal; I am going to a distant place; +possibilities in favor of death are ten per cent. greater than if I +remain at home)—if I die, this will be hers. It will comfort me, and +make it absolutely impossible for me to go back. You understand that +sometimes a miserable starved voice within me speaks. I allude to the +voice of conscience. However much it clamors, I cannot listen to it +when that sum of money lies in the bank to my credit, with my last +will and testament leaving it eventually to my daughter.”</p> + +<p>“I would not give your daughter such a portion, if I were you,” +thought Lord Grayleigh, but he did not say the words aloud. He said +instead, “What you wish shall be done.”</p> + +<p>The two men talked a little longer together. Certain necessary +arrangements were concluded, and Ogilvie bore in his pocket before he +left a check for ten thousand pounds on Lord Grayleigh’s private +account.</p> + +<p>“This clinches matters,” he said, and he gave a significant glance at +Grayleigh.</p> + +<p>“You will see Spielmann for all the rest,” was Grayleigh’s answer; +“and now, if you must catch the <span style="white-space: nowrap;">train——”</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, I must; good-by.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh walked with him as far as the porch.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p><p>“Have you seen your wife?” he asked. “Can we not induce you to wait +for the next train and stay to lunch?”</p> + +<p>“No, thanks; it is impossible. Oh, I see you have sent for the +dog-cart; I will drive to the station.”</p> + +<p>Just then Sibyl, Gus and Freda appeared in view. Sibyl was extremely +dirty. She had been climbing trees to good effect that morning, and +there was a rent in front of her dress and even a very apparent hole +in one of her stockings. She and Gus were arguing somewhat fiercely, +and the cap she wore was pushed back, and her golden hair was all in a +tangle. Suddenly she raised her eyes, caught sight of her father, and, +with a shout something between a whoop and a cry, flung herself into +his arms.</p> + +<p>“Daddy, daddy!” she cried.</p> + +<p>He clasped her tightly to his breast. He did not notice the shabby +dress nor the torn stocking; he only saw the eager little face, the +eyes brimful with love; he only felt the beating of the warm, warm +heart.</p> + +<p>“Why, dad, now I shall be happy. Where are you, Gus? Gus, this is +father; Gus, come here!”</p> + +<p>But at a nod from Lord Grayleigh both Gus and Freda had vanished round +the corner.</p> + +<p>“I will say good-by, if you must go, Ogilvie,” said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>Grayleigh. He +took his hand, gave it a sympathetic squeeze, and went into the house.</p> + +<p>“But must you go, father? Why, you have only just come,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“I must, my darling, I must catch the next train; there is not ten +minutes. Jump on the dog-cart, and we will drive to the station +together.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ’licious!” cried Sibyl, “more than ’licious; but what will mother +say?”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, the coachman will bring you back. Jump up, quick.”</p> + +<p>In another instant Sibyl was seated between her father and the +coachman. The spirited mare dashed forward, and they bowled down the +avenue. Ogilvie’s arm was tight round Sibyl’s waist, he was hugging +her to him, squeezing her almost painfully tight. She gasped a little, +drew in her breath, and then resolved to bear it.</p> + +<p>“There’s something troubling him, he likes having me near him,” +thought the child. “I wouldn’t let him see that he’s squeezing me up a +bit too tight for all the world.”</p> + +<p>The mare seemed to fly over the ground. Ogilvie was glad.</p> + +<p>“We shall have a minute or two at the station. I can speak to her +then,” he thought. “I won’t tell her that I am going, but I can say +something.” Then <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>the station appeared in view, and the mare was +pulled up with a jerk; Ogilvie jumped to his feet, and lifted Sibyl to +the ground.</p> + +<p>“Wait for the child,” he said to the servant, “and take her back +carefully to the house.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the man, touching his hat.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie went into the little station, and Sibyl accompanied him.</p> + +<p>“I have my ticket,” he said, “we have three minutes to spare, three +whole precious minutes.”</p> + +<p>“Three whole precious minutes,” repeated Sibyl. “What is it, father?”</p> + +<p>“I am thinking of something,” he said.</p> + +<p>“What?” asked the girl.</p> + +<p>“For these three minutes, one hundred and eighty seconds, you and I +are to all intents and purposes alone in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Father! why, so we are,” she cried. “Mother’s not here, we are all +alone. Nothing matters, does it, when we are alone together?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t look quite well, dear father.”</p> + +<p>“I have been having some suffering lately, and am worried about +things, those sort of things that don’t come to little girls.”</p> + +<p>“Of course they don’t, father, but when I’m a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>woman I’ll have them. +I’ll take them instead of you.”</p> + +<p>“Now listen, my darling.”</p> + +<p>“Father, before you speak ... I know you are going to say something +very, <i>very</i> solemn; I know you when you’re in your solemn moments; I +like you best of all then. You seem like Jesus Christ then. Don’t you +feel like Jesus Christ, father?”</p> + +<p>“Never, Sib, never; but the time is going by, the train is signalled. +My dearest, what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Mayn’t I go back to town with you? I like the country, I like Gus and +Freda and Mabel, but there is no place like your study in the evening, +and there’s no place like my bedroom at night when you come into it. +I’d like to go back with you, wouldn’t it be fun! Couldn’t you take +me?”</p> + +<p>“I could, of course,” said the man, and just for a moment he wavered. +It would be nice to have her in the house, all by herself, for the +next two or three days, but he put the thought from him as if it were +a temptation.</p> + +<p>“No, Sib,” he said, “you must go back to your mother; it would not be +at all right to leave your mother alone.”</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” she answered promptly, and she gave a sigh which was +scarcely a sigh.</p> + +<p>“It would have been nice all the same,” said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>Ogilvie. “Ah! there is +my train; kiss me, darling.”</p> + +<p>She flung her arms tightly round his neck.</p> + +<p>“Sibyl, just promise before I leave you that you will be a good girl, +that you will make goodness the first thing in life. If, for instance, +we were never to meet again—of course we shall, thousands of times, +but just suppose, for the sake of saying it, that we did not, I should +like to know that my little girl put goodness first. There is nothing +else worth the while in life. Cling on to it, Sibyl, cling tight hold +to it. Never forget that <span style="white-space: nowrap;">I——”</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, father, I will cling to it. Yes, father!”</p> + +<p>“That I wish it. You would do a great deal for me?”</p> + +<p>“For you and Lord Jesus Christ,” she answered softly.</p> + +<p>“Then I wish this, remember, and whatever happens, whatever you hear, +remember you promised. Now here’s my train, stand back. Good-by, +little woman, good-by.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll see you again very, very soon, father?”</p> + +<p>“Very soon,” answered the man. He jumped into the carriage, the train +puffed out of the station. A porter came up to Sibyl and spoke to her.</p> + +<p>“Anybody come to meet you, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you,” she answered with dignity; “I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>was seeing my father +off to town; there’s my twap waiting outside.”</p> + +<p>The man smiled, and the little girl went gravely out of the station.</p> + +<p>Sibyl went back to Lord Grayleigh’s feeling perplexed. There was an +expression about her father’s face which puzzled her.</p> + +<p>“He ought to have me at home with him,” she thought. “I have seen him +like this now and then, and he’s mostly not well. He’s beautiful when +he talks as he did to-day, but he’s mostly not well when he does it. I +’spect he’s nearer Lord Jesus when he’s not well, that must be it. My +most perfect father wants me to be good; I don’t want to be good a +bit, but I must, to please him.”</p> + +<p>Just then a somewhat shrill and petulant voice called the child.</p> + +<p>“My dear Sibyl, where <i>have</i> you been? What are you doing on the +dog-cart? How unladylike. Jump down this minute.”</p> + +<p>The man pulled up the mare, and Sibyl jumped to the ground. She met +her mother’s angry face with a smile which she tried hard to make +sweet.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t do anything naughty, really, Mummy,” she said. “Father took +me to the station to say good-by. He’s off back to town, and he took +me with him, and I came back on the twap.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p><p>“Don’t say twap, sound your ‘r’—trap.”</p> + +<p>“Tw-rap,” struggled Sibyl over the difficult word.</p> + +<p>“And now you are to go into the house and ask Nurse to put on your +best dress. I am going to take you to a garden party, immediately +after lunch. Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen Douglas are coming with us. +Be quick.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ’licious,” said Sibyl. She rushed into the house, and up to the +nursery. Nurse was there waiting to deck her in silk and lace and +feathers. The little girl submitted to her toilet, and now took a vast +interest in it.</p> + +<p>“You must make me quite my prettiest self,” she said to the nurse; +“you must do your very best, ’cos <span style="white-space: nowrap;">mother——”</span></p> + +<p>“What about your mother now, missy?”</p> + +<p>“’Cos mother’s just a little——Oh, nothing,” said Sibyl, pulling +herself up short.</p> + +<p>“She likes me best when I’m pretty,” continued the child; “but father +likes me always. Nursie, do you know that my ownest father came down +here to-day, and that I dwove to the station to see him off? Did you +know it?”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss Sibyl, I can’t say I did.”</p> + +<p>“He talked to me in a most pwivate way,” continued Sibyl. “He told me +most ’portant things, and I promised him, Nursie—I promised him that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>I’d——Oh, no! I won’t tell you. Perhaps I won’t be able to keep my +promise, and then you’d——Nothing, Nursie, nothing; don’t be +’quisitive. I can see in your face that you are all bursting with +’quisitiveness; but you aren’t to know. I am going to a party with my +own mother after lunch, and Lady Helen is coming, and Mr. Rochester. I +like them both very much indeed. Lady Helen told me stories last +night. She put her arm round my waist, and she talked to me; and I +told her some things, too, and she laughed.”</p> + +<p>“What did you tell her, Miss Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“About my father and mother. She laughed quite funnily. I wish people +wouldn’t; it shows how little they know. It’s ’cos they are so far +from being perfect that they don’t understand perfect people. But +there’s the lunch gong. Yes, I do look very nice. Good-by, Nursie.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl ran downstairs. The children always appeared at this meal, and +she took her accustomed place at the table. Very soon afterwards, she, +her mother, Lady Helen, and Mr. Rochester, started for a place about +ten miles off, where an afternoon reception was being given.</p> + +<p>Sibyl felt inclined to be talkative, and Mrs. Ogilvie, partly because +she had a sore feeling in her heart with regard to her husband’s +departure, although <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>she would not acknowledge it, was inclined to be +snappish. She pulled the little girl up several times, and at last +Sibyl subsided in her seat, and looked out straight before her. It was +then that Lady Helen once more put her arm round her waist.</p> + +<p>“Presently,” said Lady Helen, “when the guests are all engaged, you +and I will slip out by ourselves, and I will show you one of the most +beautiful views in all England. We climb a winding path, and we +suddenly come out quite above all the trees, and we look around us; +and when we get there, you’ll be able to see the blue sea in the +distance, and the ships, one of which is going to take <span style="white-space: nowrap;">your——”</span></p> + +<p>But just then Mrs. Ogilvie gave Helen Douglas so severe a push with +her foot, that she stopped, and got very red.</p> + +<p>“What ship do you mean?” said Sibyl, surprised at the sudden break in +the conversation, and now intensely interested, “the ship that is +going to take my—my what?”</p> + +<p>“Did you never hear the old saying, that you must wait until your ship +comes home?” interrupted Mr. Rochester, smiling at the child, and +looking at Lady Helen, who had not got over her start and confusion.</p> + +<p>“But this ship was going out,” said Sibyl. “Never mind, I ’spect it’s +a secret; there’s lots of ’em floating <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>round to-day. I’ve got some +’portant ones of my own. Never mind, Lady Helen, don’t blush no more.” +She patted Lady Helen in a patronizing way on her hand, and the whole +party laughed; the tension was, for the time, removed.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p>Ogilvie made a will leaving the ten thousand pounds which Lord +Grayleigh had given him absolutely to Sibyl for her sole use and +benefit. He also made all other preparations for his absence from +home, and started for Queensland on Saturday. He wrote to his wife on +the night before he left England, repeating his injunction that on no +account was Sibyl to be yet told of his departure.</p> + +<p>“When she absolutely must learn it, break it to her in the tenderest +way possible,” he said; “but as Grayleigh has kindly invited you both +to stay on at Grayleigh Manor for another week, you may as well do so, +and while there I want the child to be happy. The country air and the +companionship of other children are doing her a great deal of good. I +never saw her look better than I did the other day. I should also be +extremely glad, Mildred, if on your return to town you would arrange +to send Sibyl to a nice day-school, where she could have companions. I +have nothing to say against Miss Winstead, but I think the child would +be better, less old-fashioned, and might place us more on the pedestal +which we really ought to occupy, if she had other children to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>talk to +and exchange thoughts with. Try to act, my dear wife, as I would like +in this particular, I beg of you. Also when you have to let my darling +know that I am away, you will find a letter for her in my left-hand +top drawer in my study table. Give it to her, and do not ask to see +it. It is just a little private communication from her father, and for +her eyes alone. Be sure, also, you tell her that, all being well, I +hope to be back in England by the end of the summer.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie added some more words to his letter, and Mrs. Ogilvie received +it on Saturday morning. She read it over carelessly, and then turned +to Jim Rochester who stood near. During her visit to Grayleigh Manor +she had got to know this young man very well, and to like him +extremely. He was good-looking, pleasant to talk to, well informed, +and with genial, hearty views of life. He had been well brought up, +and his principles were firm and unshaken. His notion of living was to +do right on every possible occasion, to turn from the wrong with +horror, to have faith in God, to keep religion well in view, and as +far as in him lay to love his neighbor better than himself.</p> + +<p>Rochester, it may be frankly stated, had some time ago lost his heart +to Lady Helen Douglas, who, on her part, to all appearance returned +his affection. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>Nothing had yet, however, been said between the pair, +although Rochester’s eyes proclaimed his secret whenever they rested +on Lady Helen’s fair face.</p> + +<p>He watched Mrs. Ogilvie now with a sudden interest as she folded up +her husband’s letter.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said, turning to him and uttering a quick sigh; “he is +off, it is a <i>fait accompli</i>. Do you know, I am relieved.”</p> + +<p>“Are you?” he answered. He looked at her almost wistfully. He himself +was sorry for Ogilvie, he did not know why. He was, of course, aware +that he was going to Queensland to assay the Lombard Deeps, for the +talk of the great new gold mine had already reached his ears. He knew +that Ogilvie, moreover, looked pale, ill at ease, and worried. He +supposed that this uneasiness and want of alacrity in carrying a very +pleasurable business to a successful issue was caused by the man’s +great attachment to his wife and child. Mrs. Ogilvie must also be +sorry when she remembered that it would be many months before she saw +him again. But there was no sorrow now in the soft eyes which met his, +nothing but a look of distinct annoyance.</p> + +<p>“Really,” she said with an impatient movement, “I must confide in some +one, and why not in you, Mr. Rochester, as well as another? I have +already told you that my husband is absolutely silly about <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>that +child. From her birth he has done all that man could do to spoil her.”</p> + +<p>“But without succeeding,” interrupted Jim Rochester. “I am quite +friendly with your little Sibyl now,” he added, “and I never saw a +nicer little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that is what strangers always say,” replied Mrs. Ogilvie, +shrugging her shoulders, “and the child is nice, I am not denying it +for a moment, but she would be nicer if she were not simply ruined. He +wants her to live in an impossible world, without any contradictions +or even the smallest pain. You will scarcely believe it, but he would +not allow me, the other day, to tell her such a very simple, ordinary +thing as that he was going to Queensland on business, and now, in his +letter, he still begs of me to keep it a secret from her. She is not +to know anything about his absence until she returns to London, +because, forsooth, the extra week she is to spend in the country would +not do her so much good if she were fretting. Why should Sibyl fret? +Surely it is not worse for her than for me; not nearly as bad, for +that matter.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad you feel it,” said Rochester.</p> + +<p>“Feel it? What a strange remark! Did you think I was heartless? Of +course I feel it, but I am not going to be silly or sentimental over +the matter. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>Philip is a very lucky man to have this business to do. I +would not be so foolish as to keep him at home; but he is ruining that +child, ruining her. She gets more spoilt and intolerable every day.”</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, Mrs. Ogilvie,” said Lady Helen, who came upon the scene +at that moment, “I heard you talking of your little daughter. I don’t +think I ever met a sweeter child.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie threw up her hands in protest.</p> + +<p>“There you go,” she said. “Mr. Rochester has been saying almost the +very same words, Lady Helen. Now let me tell you that Sibyl is not +your child; no one can be more charming to strangers.”</p> + +<p>As Mrs. Ogilvie spoke she walked a few steps away; then she turned and +resumed her conversation.</p> + +<p>“The annoying part of this letter,” she said, “is that Philip has +written a private communication to Sibyl, and when she hears of his +absence she is to be given this letter, and I am not even to see it. I +don’t think I shall give it to her; I really must now take the +management of the child into my own hands. Her father will be +absent——Oh, there you are, Sibyl. What are you doing, loitering +about near windows? Why don’t you play with your companions?” For +Sibyl had burst in by the open window, looking breathless.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p><p>“I thought—I thought,” she began; “I thought, mother, that I heard +you——” her face was strangely white, and her wide-open eyes looked +almost wild in expression.</p> + +<p>“It’s not true, of course; but I thought I heard you say something +about father, and a—a letter I was to have in his absence. Did you +say it, mother?”</p> + +<p>“I said nothing of the sort,” replied Mrs. Ogilvie, flushing red, and +almost pushing Sibyl from the room, “nothing of the sort; go and +play.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl gave her an earnest and very penetrating look. She did not +glance either at Mr. Rochester or Lady Helen.</p> + +<p>“It’s wicked for good people to tell lies, isn’t it?” she said then, +slowly.</p> + +<p>“Wicked,” cried her mother; “it’s shamefully wicked.”</p> + +<p>“And you are good, mother, you don’t ever tell lies; I believe you, +mother, of course.” She turned and went out of the room. As she went +slowly in the direction of the field where the other children were +taking turns to ride bareback one of the horses, her thoughts were +very puzzled.</p> + +<p>“I wish things would be ’splained to me,” she said, half aloud, and +she pushed back her curls from her forehead. “There are more and more +things every day want ’splaining. I certainly did hear her say <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>it. I +heard them all talking, and Lady Helen said something, and Mr. +Rochester said something, and mother said that father wished me not to +know, and I was to have a letter, and then mother said ‘in his +absence.’ Oh, what can it mean?”</p> + +<p>The other children shouted to her from the field, but she was in no +mood to join them, and just then Lord Grayleigh, who was pacing up and +down his favorite walk, called her to his side.</p> + +<p>“What a puzzled expression you are wearing, my little girl,” he said. +“Is anything the matter?”</p> + +<p>Sibyl skipped up to him. Some of the cloud left her face. Perhaps he +could put things straight for her.</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you a question,” she said.</p> + +<p>“You are always asking questions. Now ask me something really nice; +but first, I have something to say. I am in a very giving mood this +morning. Sometimes I am in a saving mood, and would not give so much +as a brass farthing to anybody, but I am in the other sort of mood +to-day. I am in the mood to give a little golden-haired girl +<span style="white-space: nowrap;">called——”</span></p> + +<p>“Sibyl,” said the child, beginning to laugh; “if she is golden-haired +it must be me. What is it you want to give me?”</p> + +<p>Her attention was immediately arrested; her eyes shone and her lips +smiled.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p><p>“What would you like best in the world?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, best in the whole world? But I cannot have that, not for a +week—we are going home this day week.”</p> + +<p>“And what will you have when you go home?”</p> + +<p>“Father’s kiss every night. He always comes up, Lord Grayleigh, and +tucks me in bed, and he kisses me, and we have a cozy talk. He never +misses, never, when he is at home. I am lonesome here, Lord Grayleigh, +because mother does not think it good for me that she should come; she +would if she thought it good for me.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Lord Grayleigh, who for some reason did not feel quite +comfortable as Sibyl talked of her father’s kisses, “we must find +something for you, not quite the best thing of all. What would be the +next best?”</p> + +<p>“I know,” said Sibyl, laughing, “a Shetland pony; oh, I do want one so +badly. Mother sometimes rides in the Park, and I do so long to go with +her, but she said we couldn’t afford it. Oh, I do want a pony.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have one,” said Lord Grayleigh; “it shall be my present to +a very good, charming little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really think I am good?”</p> + +<p>“Good? Excellent; you are a pattern to us all.”</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t father like to hear you. It’s wonderful <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>how he talked to me +about being good. I am not really good, you know; but I mean to try. +If you were to look into my heart, you would see—oh, but you shan’t +look.” She started back, clasped her hands, and laughed. “But when +father looks next, he shall see, oh, a white heart with all the +naughtiness gone.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me exactly what sort of pony you would like,” said Lord +Grayleigh, who thought it desirable to turn the conversation.</p> + +<p>“It must have a long mane, and not too short a tail,” said Sibyl; “and +be sure you give me the very nicest, newest sort of side-saddle, same +as mother has herself, for mother’s side-saddle is very comfy. Oh, and +I’d like a riding habit like mother’s, too. Mother will be sure to say +she can’t ’ford one for me, but you’ll give me one if you give me the +pony and the side-saddle, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll give you the pony and the side-saddle, and the habit,” said Lord +Grayleigh. “I’ll choose the pony to-morrow, and bring him back with +me. I am going to Lyndhurst, in the New Forest, where they are going +to have a big horse fair. You will not mind having a New Forest pony +instead of a Shetland?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 306px;"> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" class="jpg smallgap" width="306" height="500" alt="“A perfect person could not tell a lie, could she?” +asked Sibyl.—Page 123. Daddy’s Girl." title="" /> +<span class="caption">“A perfect person could not tell a lie, could she?” +asked Sibyl.—Page <a href="#Page_123">123.</a> <i>Daddy’s Girl.</i></span> +</div> + +<p>“I don’t mind what sort my darling pony is,” answered the child. “I +only want to have it. Oh, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>you are nice. I began by not liking you, but I like you awfully now. +You are very nice, indeed.”</p> + +<p>“And so are you. It seems to me we suit each other admirably.”</p> + +<p>“There are lots of nice people in the world,” said Sibyl. “It’s a very +pleasant place. There are two quite perfect, and there are others very +nice; you and Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen. But, oh, Lord Grayleigh, I +know now what I wanted to say. A perfect person couldn’t never tell a +lie, could she?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s the feminine gender,” said Lord Grayleigh softly, under his +breath.</p> + +<p>“It’s a she,” said Sibyl; “could she; could she?”</p> + +<p>“A perfect person could not, little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Now you have made me so happy that I am going to kiss you,” said +Sibyl. She made a spring forward, flung her arms round his neck, and +kissed him twice on his rough cheek. The next instant she had vanished +out of sight and joined her companions.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right,” she said to Gus, who looked at her in some +amazement. “It’s all right; I got a fright, but there wasn’t a word of +it true. Come, let’s play. Oh, do you know your father is going to +give me a pony? I am so happy.”</p> + +<p>In a week’s time Mrs. Ogilvie and Sibyl returned to town. Sibyl was +intensely joyful on this occasion, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>and confided in everyone what a +happy night she would have.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know what father is,” she said, looking full up into +Rochester’s eyes. He was standing on the terrace, and the little girl +went and stood by his side. Sibyl was in her most confiding mood. She +considered Lord Grayleigh, Mr. Rochester, Lady Helen, and the children +were all her special friends. It was impossible to doubt their entire +sympathy and absolute ability to rejoice in her joy.</p> + +<p>“I have had a good time here,” she said, “very good. Lord Grayleigh +has been nice; I began by not liking him, but I like him now, and I +like you awfully, but after all there’s no place for me like my own, +own home. It’s ’cos of father.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Rochester. He looked anxiously, as Sibyl spoke, towards +the house. Everyone at Grayleigh Manor now knew that Sibyl was not to +be told of her father’s absence during her visit. No one approved of +this course, although no one felt quite towards it with the same sense +of irritation that Mrs. Ogilvie herself did. Rochester wished at this +instant that Lord Grayleigh or someone else would appear. He wanted +anything to cause a diversion, but Sibyl, in happy ignorance of his +sentiments, talked on.</p> + +<p>“It is at night that my father is the most perfect <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>of all,” she said. +“I wish you could see him when he comes into my room. I am in bed, you +know, lying down flat on my back, and mostly thinking about the +angels. I do that a lot at night, I have no time in the day; I think +of the angels, and Lord Jesus Christ, and heaven, and then father +comes in. He opens the door soft, and he treads on tiptoe for fear I’m +asleep, as if I could be! And then he kisses me, and I think in the +whole of heaven there can never be an angel so good and beautiful as +he is, and he says something to me which keeps me strong until the +next night, when he says something else.”</p> + +<p>“But your mother?” stammered Rochester. He was about to add, “She +would go to your room, would she not?” when he remembered that she +herself had told him that nothing would induce her to adopt so +pernicious a course.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’re thinking about my perfect mother, too,” said Sibyl. “Yes, +she is perfect, but there are different sorts in the world. My own +mother thinks it is not good for me to lie awake at night and think of +the angels and wait for father. She thinks that I ought to bear the +yoke in my youth. Solomon, the wise King Solomon—you have heard of +him, haven’t you?”</p> + +<p>Rochester nodded.</p> + +<p>“He wrote that verse about bearing the yoke when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>you are young. I +learnt it a week ago, and I felt it just ’splained about my mother. +It’s really very brave of mother; but, you see, father thinks +different, and, of course, I nat’rally like father’s way best. +Mother’s way is the goodest for me, p’waps. Don’t you think mother’s +way is the goodest for me, Mr. Rochester?”</p> + +<p>“I dare say it is good for you, Sibyl. Now, shall we go and find Lady +Helen?”</p> + +<p>“Seems to me,” said Sibyl, “I’m always looking for Lady Helen when I’m +with you. Is it ’cos you’re so desperate fond of her?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you like her yourself?” said the young man, reddening visibly.</p> + +<p>“Like her? I like her just awfully. She’s the most ’licious person to +tell stories I ever comed across in all my borned days. She tells +every sort of story about giants and fairies and adventures, and +stories of little girls just like me. Does she tell you stories about +men just like you, and is that why you like to be with her?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I can’t honestly say that she has ever yet told me a story, but +I will ask her to do so.”</p> + +<p>“Do,” said Sibyl; “ask her to tell you a story about a man like +yourself. Make him rather pwoper and stiff and shy, and let him blush +sometimes. You do, you know you do. Maybe it will do you good to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>hear +about him. Now come along and let’s find her.”</p> + +<p>So Sibyl and Rochester hunted all over the place for Lady Helen, and +when they found her not, for she had gone to the nearest village on a +commission with one of the children, Rochester’s face looked somewhat +grave, and his answers to the child were a little <i>distrait</i>. Sibyl +said to him in a tone of absolute sympathy and good faith—</p> + +<p>“Cheer up, won’t you? She is quite certain to marry you in the long +run.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk like that,” said Rochester in a voice of pain.</p> + +<p>“Don’t what? You do want to marry Lady Helen. I heard mother say so +yesterday. I heard her say so to Hortense. Hortense was brushing her +hair, and mother said, ‘It would be a good match on the whole for Lady +Helen, ’cos she is as poor as a church mouse, and Jim Rochester has +money.’ Is my darling Lady Helen as poor as a church mouse, and have +you lots of money, Mr. Rochester?”</p> + +<p>“I have money, but not lots. You ought not to repeat what you hear,” +said the young man.</p> + +<p>“But why? I thought everybody knew. You are always trying to make her +marry you, I see it in your eyes; you don’t know how you look when you +look at her, oh—ever so eager, same as I look when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>father’s in the +room and he is not talking to me. I hope you will marry her, more +especial if she’s as poor as a church mouse. I never knew why mice +were poor, nor why mother said it, but she did. Oh, and there is +mother, I must fly to her; good-by—good-by.”</p> + +<p>Rochester concealed his feelings as best he could, and hurried +immediately into a distant part of the grounds, where he cogitated +over what Sibyl, in her childish, way, had revealed.</p> + +<p>The pony had been purchased, and Sibyl had ridden it once. It was a +bright bay with a white star on its forehead. It was a well-groomed, +well-trained little animal, and Lord Grayleigh had given Sibyl her +first riding lesson, and had shown her how to hold the reins, and how +to sit on her saddle, and the riding habit had come from town, and the +saddle was the newest and most comfortable that money could buy.</p> + +<p>“It is my present to you,” said Lord Grayleigh, “and remember when you +ride it that you are going to be a good girl.”</p> + +<p>“Oh dear, oh dear,” said Sibyl, “I don’t want <i>everyone</i> to tell me +that I am to be a good girl. If it was father; but—don’t please, Lord +Grayleigh; I’ll do a badness if you talk to me any more about being so +good.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p><p>“Well, I won’t,” said Lord Grayleigh, laughing.</p> + +<p>“I ’spect father will write you a most loving letter about this,” said +Sibyl. “Won’t he be ’sprised? And did you tell mother about me having +a ride every morning?”</p> + +<p>“I did.”</p> + +<p>“And did you speak to her about the food for my pony all being paid +for?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, everything is arranged. Your pony shall be the best cared for in +all London, and you shall ride him every day for half-an-hour before +you go to school.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I never go to school,” said Sibyl in a sorrowful voice. “I have a +Miss Winstead to teach me. She is the sort that—oh, well, no matter; +she means all right, poor thing. She wants the money, so of course she +has to stay. She doesn’t suit me a bit, but she wants the money. It’s +all right, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“So it seems, little girl; and now here is the carriage, and the pony +has gone off to London already, and will be ready to take you on his +back to-morrow morning. Be sure you think of a nice name for him.”</p> + +<p>“Father will tell me a name. I won’t let anybody else christen my +ownest pony. Good-by, Lord Grayleigh. I like you very much. Say +good-by to Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>Rochester for me—oh, and there is Lady Helen; +good-by, Lady Helen—good-by.”</p> + +<p>They all kissed Sibyl when they parted from her, and everyone was +sorry at seeing the last of her bright little face, and many +conjectures went forth with regard to the trouble that was before the +child when she got to London. One and all thought that Ogilvie had +behaved cruelly, and that his wife was somewhat silly to have yielded +to him.</p> + +<p>Sibyl went up to town in the highest spirits. She chatted so much on +the road that her mother at last told her to hold her tongue.</p> + +<p>“Sit back in your seat and don’t chatter,” she said, “you disturb +other people.”</p> + +<p>The other people in the carriage consisted of a very old gentleman and +a small boy of Sibyl’s own age. The small boy smiled at Sibyl and she +smiled back, and if her mother had permitted it would have chatted to +him in a moment of her hopes and longings; but, when mother put on +that look, Sibyl knew that she must restrain her emotions, and she sat +back in her seat, and thought about the children who bore the yoke in +their youth, and how good it was for them, and how rapidly she was +growing into the sort of little girl her father most liked.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” she said, as they got towards the end of the journey, “I’m +’proving, aren’t I?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p><p>“Proving, what do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Im</i>proving, mother.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t say that I see it, Sibyl; you have been very troublesome for +the last few days.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said the child, “oh!”</p> + +<p>Sibyl changed seats from the one opposite, and nestled up close to her +mother, she tucked her hand inside her arm, and then began to talk in +a loud, buzzing whisper.</p> + +<p>“It’s ’cos of father,” she said; “he begged me so earnest to be a good +girl, and I <i>have</i> tried, <i>haven’t</i> you noticed it, mother? Won’t you +tell him when we get home that I have tried?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t worry me, Sibyl, you know my views. I want you to be just a +sensible, good child, without any of those high-flown notions. When we +return to town you must make up for your long holiday. You must do +your lessons with extreme care, and try to please Miss Winstead.”</p> + +<p>“And to please father and Lord Jesus.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, child.”</p> + +<p>“And to have a ride every morning on my darling pony?”</p> + +<p>“We will try and manage that. Lord Grayleigh has been almost silly +over that pony; I doubt whether it is wise for you to have it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, mother, he did say he would buy everything—the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>pony, the +saddle, the habit, and he would ’ford the food, too. You have not got +to pay out any money, mother, have you?”</p> + +<p>“Hush, don’t talk so loud.”</p> + +<p>The old gentleman buried himself in <i>The Times</i> in order not to hear +Sibyl’s distressed voice, and the little boy stared out of the window +and got very red.</p> + +<p>“Take up your book and stop talking,” said Mrs. Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>Sibyl took up a book which she already knew by heart, and kept back a +sorrowful sigh.</p> + +<p>“But it don’t matter,” she said to herself; “when I see father, he’ll +understand.”</p> + +<p>They got to town, where a carriage was waiting for them. Sibyl could +scarcely restrain her eagerness.</p> + +<p>“Mother, may I ask John if father’s likely to be at home? Sometimes he +comes home earlier than usual. P’waps he came home to lunch and is +waiting for us. Can I call out to John through the window, mother?”</p> + +<p>“No, sit still, you do fidget so.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try to be quiet, mother; it’s only ’cos I’m so incited.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Ogilvie to herself, “what an awful evening I am +likely to have! When the silly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>child really finds out that her father +has gone, she will burst into hysterics, or do something else absurd. +I really wish it had been my luck to marry a husband with a grain of +sense. I wonder if I had better tell her now. No, I really cannot. +Miss Winstead must do it. Miss Winstead has been having a nice +holiday, with no fuss or worry of any sort, and it is quite fair that +she should bear the burden of this. But why it should be regarded as a +burden or a trial is a puzzle. Philip goes on a sort of pleasure +expedition to Queensland, and the affair is treated almost as if—as +if it were a death. It is positively uncanny.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl noticed that her mother was silent, and that she looked worried. +Presently she stretched out her hand and stroked her mother’s.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing that for?”</p> + +<p>“’Cos I thought I’d rub you the right way,” said Sibyl. “You are like +a poor cat when it is rubbed the wrong way, aren’t you, just now, +mother?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be so ridiculous.” Mrs. Ogilvie snatched her hand away.</p> + +<p>They soon reached the house. The footman, Watson, sprang down and +lowered the steps. Sibyl bounded out and flew into the hall.</p> + +<p>“Father, father!” she called. “I’m back. Are you in, father? Here I +are—Sibyl. I’m home <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>again, father. The Angel is home again, father.”</p> + +<p>She did not often call herself the Angel, the name seemed to have more +or less slipped out of sight, but she did on this occasion, and she +threw back her pretty head and looked up the wide staircase, as if any +moment she might see her father hurrying down to meet her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie turned to one of the servants, who was watching the child +in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“She does not know yet,” whispered Mrs. Ogilvie. “I am going into the +library; don’t tell her anything, pray, but send Miss Winstead to me +immediately.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie entered the library. Sibyl danced in after her.</p> + +<p>“I can’t see father anywhere,” she said: “I ’spect he’s not back yet.”</p> + +<p>“Of course he is not back so early. Now run upstairs and ask Nurse to +make you ready for tea. Leave me, I have something to say to Miss +Winstead.”</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead appeared at that moment. She had enjoyed her holiday, +and looked the better for it. Though she understood Sibyl very little, +yet at this moment she gazed at the child almost with alarm, for Mrs. +Ogilvie had written to her telling her that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>Mr. Ogilvie’s absence had +not been alluded to in the child’s presence.</p> + +<p>Sibyl rushed to her and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“I am back, and I am going to be good,” she said. “I really, truly am; +aren’t you glad to see me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“Go upstairs now, Sibyl,” said her mother. Sibyl obeyed somewhat +unwillingly, some of the laughter went out of her eyes, and a little +of the excitement faded from her heart. She went up the wide stairs +slowly, very slowly. Even now she hoped that it might be possible for +her father to appear, turning the angle of the winding stairs, coming +out of one of the rooms. He always had such a bright face, there was +an eagerness about it. He was tall and rather slender, and that bright +look in his eyes always caused the child’s heart to leap; then his +mouth could wear such a beautiful smile. It did not smile for many +people, but it always did for Sibyl. She wanted to see him, oh, so +badly, so badly.</p> + +<p>“Well, never mind,” she said to herself, “he can’t help it, the +darling; but he’ll be back soon,” and she tripped into her nursery and +sat down; but she did not ask Nurse any questions, she was too busy +with her own thoughts.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<p>“Miss Winstead,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, “this is all most unpleasant.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” asked the governess.</p> + +<p>“Why, this whim of my husband’s. He has been away for over a week, and +the child imagines that he is still in London, that he will return at +any instant and spoil her, after his usual injudicious fashion.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t quite think that Mr. Ogilvie spoils your little Sibyl,” +said Miss Winstead; “he has peculiar ideas, that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“We need not discuss that point,” said Mrs. Ogilvie in an irritated +tone. “We are back later than I thought, and I have to dine out +to-night. I want you, Miss Winstead, to break the tidings to the child +that her father has gone to Queensland.”</p> + +<p>“I?” said Miss Winstead; “I would really <span style="white-space: nowrap;">rather——”</span></p> + +<p>“I fear your likes or dislikes with regard to the matter cannot be +considered. I cannot tell her, because I should not do it properly; +and also, a more serious reason, I really have not the time. You can +give Sibyl a treat, if you like, afterwards. Take her out for a walk +in the Park after tea, she always <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>likes that; and you can take her to +a shop and buy her a new toy—any toy she fancies. Here’s a sovereign; +you can go as far as that, you ought to get her something quite +handsome for that; and you might ask the little Leicesters next door +to come to tea to-morrow. There are a hundred ways in which the mind +of a child can be diverted.”</p> + +<p>“Not the mind of Sibyl with regard to her father,” interrupted Miss +Winstead.</p> + +<p>“Well, for goodness’ sake, don’t make too much of it. You know how +peculiar he is, and how peculiar she is. Just tell her that he has +gone away for a couple of months—that he has gone on an expedition +which means money, and that <i>I</i> am pleased about it, that he has done +it for my sake and for her sake. Tell her he’ll be back before the +summer is over. You can put it any way you like, only do it, Miss +Winstead—do it!”</p> + +<p>“When?” asked Miss Winstead. She turned very pale, and leant one hand +on the table.</p> + +<p>“Oh, when you please, only don’t worry me. You had better take her off +my hands at once. Just tell her that I am tired and have a headache, +and won’t see her until the morning; I really must lie down, and +Hortense must bathe my forehead. If I don’t I shall look a perfect +wreck to-night, and it is going to be a big dinner; I have been +anxious for some time <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>to go. And afterwards there is a reception at +the Chinese Embassy; I am going there also. Please ask Watson, on your +way through the hall, to have tea sent to my boudoir. And now you +quite understand?”</p> + +<p>“But, please, say exactly what I am to tell your little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know? Say that her father has gone—oh, by the way, there’s +a letter for her. I really don’t know that she ought to have it. Her +father is sure to have said something terribly injudicious, but +perhaps you had better give it to her. You might give it to her when +you are telling her, and tell her to read it by-and-by, and not to be +silly, but to be sensible. That is my message to her. Now pray go, +Miss Winstead. Are you better? Have you had a nice time while we were +away?”</p> + +<p>“I still suffer very badly with my head,” said Miss Winstead, “but the +quiet has done me good. Yes, I will try and do my best. I saw Mr. +Ogilvie the day he left; he did not look well, and seemed sorrowful. +He asked me to be kind to Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“I sincerely trust you are kind to the child; if I thought you did not +treat her with sympathy and understanding I should be <span style="white-space: nowrap;">obliged——”</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, you need not go on,” said Miss Winstead, coloring, and looking +annoyed. “I know my duty. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>I am not a woman with very large +sympathies, or perhaps very wide views, but I try to do my duty; I +shall certainly do my utmost for your dear little daughter. There is +something very lovable about her, although sometimes I fear I do not +quite understand her.”</p> + +<p>“No one seems to understand Sibyl, and yet everyone thinks her +lovable,” said the mother. “Well, give her my love; tell her I will +ride with her in the morning. She has had a present of a pony, quite a +ridiculous present; Lord Grayleigh was determined to give it to her. +He took an immense fancy to the child, and put the gift in such a way +that it would not have been wise to refuse. Don’t forget, when you see +Watson, to tell him to bring tea to my boudoir.”</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead slowly left the room. She was a very quiet woman, about +thirty-five years of age. She had a stolid manner, and, as she said +herself, was a little narrow and a little old-fashioned, but she was +troubled now. She did not like the task set her. As she went upstairs +she muttered a solitary word.</p> + +<p>“Coward!” she said, under her breath.</p> + +<p>“I wish I was well out of this,” thought the governess. “The child is +not an ordinary one, and the love she bears her father is not an +ordinary love.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p><p>Miss Winstead’s schoolroom looked its brightest and best. The days +were growing quite long now, and flowers were plentiful. A large +basket of flowers had been sent from Grayleigh Manor that morning, and +Miss Winstead had secured some of the prettiest for her schoolroom. +She had decorated the tea-table and the mantelpiece, but with a pain +at her heart, for she was all the time wondering if Sibyl knew or did +not know. She could not quite understand from Ogilvie’s manner whether +she knew or not. He was very reserved about her just at the last, he +evidently did not like to talk of her.</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead entered the schoolroom. She sat down for a moment near +the open window. The day was still in its prime. She looked at the +clock. The under-housemaid, who had the charge of the schoolroom tea, +now came in with the tray. She laid the cloth and spread the +tea-things. There was a plate of little queen-cakes for Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Cook made these for Miss Sibyl,” she said. “Does she know yet, Miss +Winstead, that the master has gone?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Miss Winstead; “and I have got to tell her, Anne, and it is +a task I anything but like.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t be in your shoes for a deal, Miss,” replied Anne, in a +sympathetic voice.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p><p>Just then a light, childish step was heard in the passage, and Sibyl +burst into the room.</p> + +<p>“Here I am. Oh, I am so glad tea is ready. What’s the hour, please, +Miss Winstead? How are you, Anne; is your toothache better?”</p> + +<p>“I have not had any toothache to mention since you left, Miss Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad to hear that. You used to suffer awful pain, didn’t you? +Did you go to Mr. Robbs, the dentist, and did he put your head between +his knees and tug and tug to get the tooth out? That’s the way Nurse’s +teeth were taken out when she was a little girl. She told me all about +it. Did Mr. Robbs pull your tooth out that way, Anne?”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss, the tooth is better and in my head, I’m thankful to say.”</p> + +<p>“And how is cook? How are her sneezing fits?”</p> + +<p>“All the servants are very well, I thank you, Miss.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t make any more enquiries now, Sibyl, sit down and begin your +tea,” said her governess.</p> + +<p>Sibyl made an effort to suppress the words which were bubbling to her +lips. Anne had reached the door, when she burst out with—</p> + +<p>“I do just want to ask one more question. How is Watson, Anne, and how +is his sweetheart? Has she been kinder to him lately?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p><p>“Sibyl, I refuse to allow you to ask any further questions,” +interrupted Miss Winstead. She was so nervous and perplexed at the +task before her that she was glad even to be able to find fault with +the child. It was really reprehensible of any child to take an +interest in Watson’s sweetheart.</p> + +<p>Anne, smiling however, and feeling also inclined to cry, left the +room. She ran down to the servants’ hall.</p> + +<p>“Of all the blessed angel children, Miss Sibyl beats ’em,” she cried. +“Not one of us has she forgot; dear lamb, even to my tooth and your +sneezing fits, cook; and Watson, most special did she inquire for Mary +Porter, the girl you’re a-keeping company with. It’s wonderful what a +tender heart she do have.”</p> + +<p>“That she have truly,” said the cook, “and I’ll make her some more +queen-cakes to-morrow, and ice them for her, that I will. It’s but to +look at her to see how loving she is,” continued the good woman. “How +she’ll live without the master beats me. The missus ain’t worthy of +her.”</p> + +<p>This remark was followed by a sort of groan which proceeded from each +servant’s mouth. It was evident that Mrs. Ogilvie was not popular in +the servants’ hall.</p> + +<p>Sibyl meanwhile was enjoying her tea.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p><p>“It’s nearly five o’clock,” she said, “father is sure to be in at six, +don’t you think so, Miss Winstead?”</p> + +<p>“He often doesn’t come home till seven,” answered Miss Winstead in a +guilty voice, her hand shaking as she raised the teapot.</p> + +<p>“Why, what’s the matter with you, Winnie dear,” said Sibyl—this was +her pet name for the governess; “you have got a sort of palsy, you +ought to see a doctor. I asked Nurse what palsy was, and she said ‘a +shaking,’ and you are all shaking. How funny the teapot looks when +your hand is bobbing so. Do, Winnie, let me pour out tea.”</p> + +<p>“Not to-night. I was thinking that after tea you and I might go for a +little walk.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I couldn’t, really, truly; I must wait in till father comes.”</p> + +<p>“It is such a fine evening, that <span style="white-space: nowrap;">perhaps——”</span></p> + +<p>“No, no, I don’t want to go.”</p> + +<p>“But your mother has given me money; you are to buy anything you +please at the toy-shop.”</p> + +<p>This was a very great temptation, for Sibyl adored toys.</p> + +<p>“How much money?” she asked in a tentative voice.</p> + +<p>“Well, a good deal, a whole sovereign.”</p> + +<p>“Twenty shillings,” said Sibyl, “I could get a lovely doll’s house for +that. But I think sometimes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>I am getting tired of my dolls. It’s so +stupid of ’em not to talk, and never to cry, and not to feel pain or +love. But, on the whole, I suppose I should like a new doll’s house, +and there was a beauty at the toy-shop for twenty shillings. It was +there at Christmas-time. I expect it’s a little dusty now, but I dare +say Mr. Holman would let me have it cheap. I am <i>very</i> fond of Mr. +Holman, aren’t you, Winnie? Don’t you love him very, very much? He has +such kind, sorrowful eyes. Don’t you like him?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that I do, Sibyl. Come, finish your tea, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“Have you been trying to ’prove yourself very much while I was away?” +said Sibyl, looking at her now in a puzzled way.</p> + +<p>“Prove myself?”</p> + +<p>“I can never say that whole word. <i>Im</i>prove is what I mean. Have you +been trying?”</p> + +<p>“I always try, Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“Then I think Lord Jesus is helping you, for you <i>are</i> ’proved, you’re +quite sympathisy. I like you when you’re sympathisy. Yes, I have +finished my tea, and, if you wish it, I’ll go out just as far as Mr. +Holman’s to buy the doll’s house. He is poor, and he’ll be real glad +to sell it. He has often told me how little money he makes by the +toys, and how they lose their freshness and get dusty, and children +toss <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> ’em. Some children are <i>so</i> careless. Yes, I’ll go with you, +and then we’ll come straight home. Father will be back certain +to-night at six. He’ll know that I’ll be wanting him.”</p> + +<p>“Sibyl, I have something to tell you.”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>There was a tremulous note in Miss Winstead’s voice which arrested the +gay, careless chatter. The child looked at her governess. That deep, +comprehensive, strange look visited her eyes. Miss Winstead got up +hastily and walked to the window, then she returned to her seat.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” said Sibyl, still seated at the tea-table, but turning +round and watching her governess.</p> + +<p>“It is something that will pain you, dear.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said Sibyl, “go on, please. Out with it! plump it out! as Gus +would say. Be quick. I don’t like to be kept in ’spense.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid, Sibyl, that you will not see your father to-night.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl jumped up just as if someone had shot her. She stood quite still +for a moment, and a shiver went through her little frame; then she +went up to Miss Winstead.</p> + +<p>“I can bear it,” she said; “go on. Shall I see father to-morrow?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p><p>“Not to-morrow, nor the next day, nor the next.”</p> + +<p>“Go on; I am bearing it,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>She stood absolutely upright, white as a sheet, her eyes queerly +dilated, but her lips firm.</p> + +<p>“It’s a great shock, but I am bearing it,” she said again. “<i>When</i> +will I see him?”</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead turned now and looked at her.</p> + +<p>“Child,” she said, “don’t look like that.”</p> + +<p>“I’m looking no special way; I’m only bearing up. Is father dead?”</p> + +<p>“No; no, my dear. No, my poor little darling. Oh, you ought to have +been told; but he did not wish it. It was his wish that you should +have a happy time in the country. He has gone to Queensland; he will +be back in a few months.”</p> + +<p>“A few months,” said Sibyl. “He’s not dead?” She sat down listlessly +on the window seat. She heaved a great sigh.</p> + +<p>“It’s the little shots that hurt most,” she said after a pause. “I +wouldn’t have felt it, if you had said he was dead.”</p> + +<p>“Come out, Sibyl, you know now he won’t be back by six.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’ll go out with you.”</p> + +<p>She turned and walked very gravely out of the room.</p> + +<p>“I’d rather she cried and screamed; I’d rather she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>rushed at me and +tried to hurt me; I’d rather she did anything than take it like that,” +thought the governess.</p> + +<p>Sibyl went straight into the nursery.</p> + +<p>“Nursie,” she said, “my father has gone. He is in Queensland; he did +not wish me to be told, but I have been told now. He is coming back in +a few months. A few months is like for ever, isn’t it, nursie? I am +going out with Miss Winstead for a walk.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my darling,” said nursie, “this has hurt you horribly.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t,” said Sibyl, “don’t be sympathisy.” She pushed nurse’s +detaining hand away.</p> + +<p>“It’s the little shots that tell,” she repeated. “I wouldn’t have felt +anything if it had been a big, big bang; if he had been dead, I mean, +but I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to let anybody think that I +care anything at all. Give me my hat and gloves and jacket, please, +nurse.”</p> + +<p>She went to Miss Winstead, put her hand in hers, and the two went +downstairs. When they got into the street Sibyl looked full at her, +and asked her one question.</p> + +<p>“Was it mother said you was to tell me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then mother did tell me a——” Sibyl left off <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>abruptly, her poor +little face quivered. The suffering in her eyes was so keen that Miss +Winstead did not dare to meet them. They went for a walk in the park, +and Sibyl talked in her most proper style, but she did not say any of +the nice, queer, interesting things she was, as a rule, noted for. +Instead, she told Miss Winstead dry, uninteresting little facts, with +regard to her visit to the country.</p> + +<p>“I hear you have got a pony,” said Miss Winstead.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to talk about my pony, please,” interrupted Sibyl. “Let +me tell you just what were the most perfect views near the place we +were in.”</p> + +<p>“But why may we not talk about your pony?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to ride my pony now.”</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead was alarmed about the child.</p> + +<p>“You have walked quite far enough to-night,” she said, “you look very +white.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not a scrap tired, I never felt better in my life. Do let us go +to the toy-shop.”</p> + +<p>“A good idea,” said the governess, much cheered to find Sibyl, in her +opinion, human after all. “We will certainly go there and will choose +a beautiful toy.”</p> + +<p>“Well, this is the turning, come along,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p><p>“But why should we go to Holman’s, there is a splendid toy-shop in +this street.”</p> + +<p>“I’d much rather go to Mr. Holman’s.”</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead did not expostulate any further. Presently they reached +the shabby little shop. Mr. Holman, the owner of the shop, was a +special friend of the child’s. He had once or twice, charmed by her +sympathetic way, confided some of his griefs to her. He found it, he +told her, extremely difficult to make the toy-shop pay; and Sibyl, in +consequence, considered it her bounden duty to spend every half-penny +she could spare at this special shop. She entered now, went straight +up to the counter and held out her hand.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Mr. Holman,” she said; “I hope I find you quite well.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Missy; I am in the enjoyment of good health,” replied the +shopman, flushing with pleasure and grasping the little hand.</p> + +<p>“I am glad of that,” answered Sibyl. “I have come, Mr. Holman, to buy +a big thing, it will do your shop a lot of good. I am going to spend +twenty shillings in your shop. What would you like me to buy?”</p> + +<p>“You thought a doll’s house,” interrupted Miss Winstead, who stood +behind the child.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it don’t matter about that,” said Sibyl, looking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>gravely back at +her; “I mean it don’t matter now. Mr. Holman, what’s the most dusty of +your toys, what’s the most scratched, what’s the toy that none of the +other children would like?”</p> + +<p>“I have a whole heap of ’em,” said Holman, shaking his head sadly.</p> + +<p>“That he have, poor dear,” here interrupted Mrs. Holman. “How do you +do, Missy, we are both glad to see you back again; we have had a dull +season, very dull, and the children, they didn’t buy half the toys +they ought to at Christmas time. It’s because our shop is in a back +street.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but it’s a very nice street,” said Sibyl; “it’s retired, isn’t +it? Well, I’ll buy twenty shillings’ worth of the most dusty of the +toys, and please send them home to-morrow. Please, Miss Winstead, put +the money down.”</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead laid a sovereign on the counter.</p> + +<p>“Good-by, Mr. Holman; good-by, Mrs. Holman,” said Sibyl. She shook +hands solemnly with the old pair, and then went out of the shop.</p> + +<p>“What ails her?” said Holman. “She looks as if something had died +inside her. I don’t like her looks a bit.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie enjoyed herself very much that evening. Her friends were +glad to see her back. They were full of just the pleasant sympathy +which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>she liked best to receive. She must be lonely without her +husband. When would he return? When she said in a few months’ time, +they congratulated her, and asked her how she had enjoyed herself at +Grayleigh Manor. In short, there was that sort of fuss made about her +which most appealed to her fancy. She forgot all about Sibyl. She +looked at other women of her acquaintance, and thought that when her +husband came home she would wear just as dazzling gems and just as +beautiful dresses, and she, too, might talk about her country place, +and invite her friends down to this rural retreat at Whitsuntide, and +make up a nice house-party in the autumn, and again in the winter. Oh, +yes, the world with its fascinations was stealing more and more into +her heart, and she had no room for the best of all. She forgot her +lonely child during these hours.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie returned from a fashionable reception between twelve and +one in the morning. Hortense was up and tired. She could scarcely +conceal her yawns as she unstitched the diamonds which she had sewn on +her mistress’s dress earlier in the evening, and put away the +different jewels. At last, however, her duties were over, and she went +away to her room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie got into bed, and closing her eyes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>prepared to doze off +into delicious slumber. She was pleasantly tired, and no more. As she +sank into repose, the house in the country and the guests who would +fill it mingled with her dreams. Suddenly she heard a clear voice in +her ears. It awoke her with a sort of shock. She raised herself on her +elbow, and saw her little daughter standing in her white nightdress by +the bedside.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing there, Sibyl? Go back to bed directly.”</p> + +<p>“Please, mother, I can’t sleep. I have got a sort of up-and-down and +round-and-round feeling. I don’t know what it is, but it’s worse when +I put my head on my pillow. I ’spect I’m lonesome, mother. Mother, I +really, truly, am going to be sensible, and I know all about father; +but may I get into your bed just at the other side. I will lie as +still as a mouse; may I, mother?”</p> + +<p>“Oh dear, how you tremble,” said Mrs. Ogilvie; “how more than annoying +this is! You certainly are not a sensible child at the present moment. +If you felt so strange and nervous, why didn’t you ask Nurse or Miss +Winstead to sleep in the room with you?”</p> + +<p>“But, mother, that wouldn’t have done me any good.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p><p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“They wouldn’t be you. I’ll be quite happy if I can get into bed +alongside of you, mother.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you may, child, but please don’t disturb me. I am very +tired, and want to sleep.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl ran round to the other side of the bed, slipped in, and lay as +quiet as a mouse.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie curled up comfortably, arranged her pillows, and closed +her eyes. She was very sleepy, but what was the matter with her? She +could not lose herself in unconsciousness. Was the perfectly still +little figure by her side exercising some queer power over her, +drawing something not often stirred within her heart to the surface? +She turned at last and looked at the child. Sibyl was lying on her +back with her eyes wide open.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you shut your eyes and go to sleep?” asked her mother.</p> + +<p>“I can’t, on account of the round-and-roundness feeling,” replied +Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“What a funny little thing you are. Here, give me your hand.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie stretched out her own warm hand and took one of Sibyl’s. +Sibyl’s little hand was cold.</p> + +<p>“May I come quite close to you, mother?” asked Sibyl.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p><p>“Yes, darling.”</p> + +<p>The next instant she was lying in her mother’s arms. Her mother +clasped her close to her breast and kissed her many times.</p> + +<p>“Oh, now that’s better,” said the child with a sob. It was the first +attempt at a sob which had come from her lips. She nestled cosily +within her mother’s clasp.</p> + +<p>“I am much better,” she said; “I didn’t understand, but I understand +now. I got his letter.”</p> + +<p>“Must we talk about it to-night, Sibyl?” asked her mother.</p> + +<p>“Not much; there’s not much to say, is there? He said I was to be good +and to obey you. I was to be good all the time. It’s very hard, but I +’spect I’ll do it; I ’spect Lord Jesus will help me. Mother, why has +father gone to Queensland? It’s such a long, long way off.”</p> + +<p>“For a most excellent reason,” said Mrs. Ogilvie. “You really are +showing a great deal of sense, Sibyl. I never knew you more sensible +about anything. I was afraid you would cry and make scenes and be +naughty, and make yourself quite ill; that would have been a most +silly, affected sort of thing to do. Your father has gone away just on +a visit—we will call it that. He will be back before the summer is +over, and when he comes back he will bring <span style="white-space: nowrap;">us——”</span></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p><p>“What?” asked the child. “What has he gone for?”</p> + +<p>“My dear child, he has gone on most important business. He will bring +us back a great deal of <i>money</i>, Sibyl. You are too young yet to +understand about money.”</p> + +<p>“No, I am not,” said Sibyl. “I know that when people have not much +money they are sorrowful. Poor Mr. Holman is.”</p> + +<p>“Who in the world is Mr. Holman?”</p> + +<p>“He sells the toys in the back street near our house. I am very much +obliged to you, mother, for that sovereign. Mr. Holman is going to +send me some dusty toys to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t ’splain, Mr. Holman understands. But, mother, I thought we +had plenty of money.”</p> + +<p>“Plenty of money,” echoed Mrs. Ogilvie; “that shows what a very silly +little child you are. We have nothing like enough. When your father +comes back we’ll be rich.”</p> + +<p>“Rich?” said Sibyl, “rich?” She did not say another word for a long +time. Her mother really thought she had dropped asleep. In about half +an hour, however, Sibyl spoke.</p> + +<p>“Is it nice, being rich?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Of course it is.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p><p>“But what does it do?”</p> + +<p>“Do? It does everything. It gives you all your pretty frocks.”</p> + +<p>“But I am more comfy in my common frocks.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it gives you your nice food.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care nothing about food.”</p> + +<p>“It gives you your comfortable home, your pony, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and——”</span></p> + +<p>“Lord Grayleigh gave me my pony.”</p> + +<p>“Child, I cannot explain. It makes all the difference between comfort +and discomfort, between sorrow and happiness.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?” said Sibyl. “And father has gone away to give me a +nice house, and pretty clothes, and all the other things between being +comfy and discomfy; and you want to be rich very much, do you, +mother?”</p> + +<p>“Very much indeed; I like the good things of life.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try and understand,” said Sibyl. She turned wearily on her +pillow, and the next instant sleep had visited the perplexed little +brain.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<p>“Nursie,” said Sibyl, two months after the events related in the last +chapter, “mother says that when my ownest father comes back again +we’ll be very rich.”</p> + +<p>“Um,” replied nurse, with a grunt, “do she?”</p> + +<p>“Why do you speak in that sort of voice, nursie? It’s very nice to be +rich. I have been having long talks with mother, and she has ’splained +things. It means a great deal to be rich. I am so glad that my father +is coming back a very, very rich man. I didn’t understand at first. I +thought to be rich just meant to have lots of money, and big, big +houses, and heaps of bags of sweeties, and toys and ponies, and, oh, +the kind of things that don’t matter a bit. But now I know what to be +rich really is.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear,” said nurse. She was seated in the old nursery close to +the window. She was mending some of Sibyl’s stockings. A little pile +of neatly mended pairs lay on the table, and there was a frock which +also wanted a darn reclining on the back of the old woman’s chair. +Sibyl broke off and watched her nurse’s movements with close interest.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p><p>“Why do you wear spectacles?” she asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Because, my love, my sight is failing. I ain’t as young as I was.”</p> + +<p>“What does ‘not as young as you was’ mean?”</p> + +<p>“What I say, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“I notice,” said Sibyl, thoughtfully, “that all very, very old people +say they’re not as young as they was, and so you wear spectacles ’cos +you’re not as young as you was, and ’cos you can’t see as well as you +did.”</p> + +<p>“That’s about it, Missy, and when I have to darn the stockings of a +naughty little Miss, and to mend holes in her dress, I have to put on +my glasses.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’m glad we’re going to be rich; it will be quite easy to +’splain why I am glad,” continued Sibyl, thoughtfully. “When our gold +comes, nursie, you’ll never have to do no more darning, and you need +never wear your glasses ’cept just to read lovely books. Oh, we’ll do +such a lot when we are rich. There’s poor Mr. Holman: I was talking to +him only yesterday. Do you know, nursie, his shop isn’t paying, not a +bit, and he was, oh, so sad about it, and Mrs. Holman began to cry. +She told me there’s a new big toy-shop in Palace Road, a great big +lovely <i>swampy</i> sort of shop. I mean by that, that it takes all the +customers. They go in there <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>and they spend their money, and there’s +none left for poor Mr. Holman. It’s just ’cos he lives in Greek +Street, and Greek Street is what is called a back street. Isn’t it +perfectly shameful, nursie? Mr. Holman said if they could afford to +have a shop in Palace Road he would get all the little boys and girls +back again. But they won’t come into his nice, quiet <i>back</i> street. I +like back streets, don’t you, nursie? It’s horrid of the boys and +girls not to go to Mr. Holman’s.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the way of the world, dear,” answered nurse; “the world always +goes with the prosperous people. Them that are struggling the world +leaves behind. It’s a cruel way, but it’s the way the world has got.”</p> + +<p>“Then I hate the world,” said Sibyl. “My beautiful Lord Jesus wouldn’t +allow it if He was on earth now, would He, nursie?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my love, there’d be a lot of things <i>He’d</i> have to change if He +came back; but don’t ask me any more questions now, Missy. You go out +with your governess. You don’t get half enough of the air, to my way +of thinking; you’re looking peaky, and not what the master would like +to see.”</p> + +<p>“But I am perfectly well,” answered Sibyl, “I never felt better in all +my borned days. You know, nursie, I have got a lot to do now. Father +gave me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>’rections in that letter that nobody else is to see, and one +of them was that I was to keep well, so I’ll go for a walk if you +think it will be good for me; only I just wish to say that when father +comes back dear Mr. Holman shall have his shop in Palace Road, and a +lot of fresh toys put in it, and then he’ll be quite happy and +smiling, and his shop will swamp up all the children, and all the +pennies and all the half-pennies and sixpennies, and poor, dear, +darling Mrs. Holman won’t have to wipe away her tears any more.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl skipped out of the room, and nurse said several times under her +breath—</p> + +<p>“Bless her! the darling she is!”</p> + +<p>Smartly dressed, as was her mother’s wish, the little girl now ran +downstairs. Miss Winstead was not ready. Sibyl waited for her in the +hall. She felt elated and pleased, and just at that moment a servant +crossed the spacious hall, and opened the hall door. Standing on the +steps was Mr. Rochester. Sibyl uttered a great whoop when she saw him, +rushed forward, and seized him by the hand.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am glad to see you,” she said. “Have you come to see me, or to +see mother?”</p> + +<p>“I am very glad to see you,” replied the young man; “but I did call to +see your mother.”</p> + +<p>“Well, come to the drawing-room, I’ll entertain <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>you till mother +comes. Go upstairs, please, Watson, and tell mother that Mr. Rochester +is here. Be sure you say Mr. Rochester—<i>nice</i> Mr. Rochester.”</p> + +<p>Watson smiled, as he often did when Sibyl addressed him, and nice Mr. +Rochester and the little girl disappeared into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Sibyl shut the door, took his hand, and looked earnestly into his +face.</p> + +<p>“Well?” she said.</p> + +<p>“Why do you say that?” he asked, in some confusion.</p> + +<p>“I was only wondering if Lady Helen had done it.”</p> + +<p>“Really, Sibyl, you say very queer things,” answered Rochester. He sat +down on a chair.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you know you are awfully fond of her, and you want her to marry +you, and I want her to marry you because I like you. You are very +nice, very nice indeed, and you are rich, you know. Mother has been +’splaining to me about rich people. It’s most ’portant that everybody +should be rich, isn’t it, Mr. Rochester? It’s the only way to be +truly, truly happy, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“That it is not, Sibyl. Who has been putting such an idea into your +head?”</p> + +<p>Sibyl looked at him, and was about to say, “Why, mother,” but she +checked herself. A cloud took <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>some of the brightness out of her eyes. +She looked puzzled for a moment, then she laughed.</p> + +<p>“When my own father comes back again we’ll all be rich people. I hope +when you are very, very rich you’ll make,” she said, “dear Lady Helen +happy. I am very glad, now, my father went to Australia. It gave me +dreadful pain at the time, but when he comes back we’ll all be rich. +What has he gone about; do you know, Mr. Rochester?”</p> + +<p>“Something about a gold mine. Your father is a great engineer, and his +opinion with regard to the mine will be of the utmost value. If he +says it is a good mine, with a lot of gold in it, then the British +public will buy shares. They will buy shares as fast as ever they +can.”</p> + +<p>“What are shares?” asked Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“It is difficult to explain. Shares mean a little bit of the gold out +of the mine, and these people will buy them in order to become rich.”</p> + +<p>“It’s very puzzling,” said Sibyl. “And it depends on father?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, because if he says there is not much gold in the mine, then no +one will buy shares. Don’t you understand, it all depends on him.”</p> + +<p>“It’s <i>very</i> puzzling,” said Sibyl again. “Are you going to buy +shares, Mr. Rochester?”</p> + +<p>“I think so,” he answered earnestly. “I shall buy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>several shares, I +think, and if I do I shall be rich enough to ask Lady Helen to marry +me.”</p> + +<p>“And you will be happy?”</p> + +<p>“Very happy if she says ‘yes.’ But, Sibyl, this is a great secret +between you and me, you must never tell it to anyone else.”</p> + +<p>“You may trust me,” said Sibyl, “I never tell things I’m told not to +tell. You can’t think what wonderful ’portant things father has told +me, and I never, never speak of them again. Then you’ll be glad to be +rich?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, because I shall be happy if Lady Helen is my wife,” he answered, +and just then Mrs. Ogilvie came into the room.</p> + +<p>Sibyl and Miss Winstead went out for their daily exercise. Sibyl had +already ridden the pony in the morning. It was a nameless pony. +Nothing would induce her to give it a title.</p> + +<p>“When father comes back he’ll christen my pony,” she said, “but no one +else shall. I won’t give it no name till he comes back.”</p> + +<p>She enjoyed her rides on the brisk little pony’s back. She was rapidly +becoming a good horsewoman. When her mother did not accompany her the +redoubtable Watson followed his little mistress, and the exercise did +the child good, and helped to bring a faint color to her cheeks.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p><p>Now she and Miss Winstead walked slowly down the shady side of the +street. Sibyl was pondering over many things.</p> + +<p>“It is very hot this morning,” said the governess.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that don’t matter,” replied Sibyl. “Miss Winstead, is your head +sometimes so full that it seems as if it would burst?”</p> + +<p>“No,” answered Miss Winstead, “I cannot say it is.”</p> + +<p>“Full of thoughts, you know.”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied the governess again. “Don’t turn in your toes, Sibyl, +walk straight, turn your toes out a little, so; keep step with me. +Little ladies ought to walk properly.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl took great pains to follow Miss Winstead’s instructions. She was +always taking great pains now. A wonderful lot of her naughtiness and +daringness had left her. She was trying to be good. It was extremely +irksome, but when she succeeded she felt a great glow of pleasure, for +she believed herself near to her father.</p> + +<p>“Miss Winstead,” she said suddenly, “I have been thinking of +something. It is most terribly ’portant. Would you greatly mind if we +went to see the Holmans before we go back?”</p> + +<p>“We shan’t have time,” replied Miss Winstead.</p> + +<p>“Oh, but I want to go,” said Sibyl, knitting her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>brows, “don’t let us +go into the stupid Park, do come to the Holmans.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot do it, Sibyl, it is impossible. We must be back rather early +for lunch to-day, as your mother is going into the country this +afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“Mother going into the country, what for?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you, it is not my affair.”</p> + +<p>“That means that you know, but you won’t tell.”</p> + +<p>“You can put it in that way if you like. I won’t tell. Now come into +the Park, we can sit on one of the chairs under the trees and keep +cool.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl obeyed unwillingly. She felt, as she said afterwards, as if Miss +Winstead had rubbed her the wrong way.</p> + +<p>“I am like a pussy-cat when its fur is rubbed quite the wrong side +up,” thought the little girl. “I don’t like it, not a bit.”</p> + +<p>Presently she slipped her hand through her governess’s arm, and said +in a coaxing voice—</p> + +<p>“Do come home through Greek Street; I do want just to say one word to +Mr. Holman, you can’t think how ’portant it is.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot, Sibyl; you must not ask me again.” Here Miss Winstead took +out her watch.</p> + +<p>“We must hurry home,” she said; “I had not the least idea the time was +going so fast.”</p> + +<p>They left the Park, and came back in time for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>lunch. During lunch +both Mrs. Ogilvie and her little daughter were very silent. Sibyl was +thinking of the Holmans, and how more than important it was that she +should see them soon, and Mrs. Ogilvie had another thought in her +head, a thought which caused her eyes to dance with pleasure.</p> + +<p>“Why isn’t Mr. Rochester here?” said the little girl at last.</p> + +<p>“He could not stay,” replied Mrs. Ogilvie. “You and he are great +friends, are you not, Sib?”</p> + +<p>“He is nice, he is very nice,” said the child; “he and Lady Helen—oh, +more than nice. I like ’em very much, don’t you, mother?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear.” Mrs. Ogilvie got up. “Good-by, Sibyl, I shall be back +late this evening.”</p> + +<p>“Good-by, mother dear.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie left the room. Miss Winstead, having finished her lunch, +desired Sibyl to be quick with hers, and then to follow her to the +schoolroom. There was no one in the room now but Sibyl and the +footman, Watson. Watson began to remove the things. Sibyl played with +a biscuit. Suddenly she looked full up at the young man.</p> + +<p>“Are you tired after your ride this morning Watson?”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss Sibyl, not at all.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder if you’re awfully hungry, Watson?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p><p>“Why so, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“Because it’s time for the servants’ dinner.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Miss, I’m going down to the hall presently, when I shall have +my appetite satisfied, thank you all the same for inquiring.”</p> + +<p>Watson greatly enjoyed having a private chat with Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“You couldn’t, p’waps,” said the little girl, knitting her brows, “you +couldn’t, p’waps, come a short way down the street with me afore you +begin your dinner?”</p> + +<p>“Where do you want to go, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“I want to see Mr. Holman; you know Mr. Holman, don’t you, Watson? He +is the dear, kind, nice, sorrowful man who keeps the dusty toys.”</p> + +<p>“I have heard of him from you, Miss.”</p> + +<p>“It’s most ’portant that I should see him and his wife, and if you +walked behind me, mother would not be very angry. Would you come, +Watson? You might just put on your hat and come at once. I have not +taken off my hat and coat. We can do it and be back afore Miss +Winstead finds out.”</p> + +<p>Watson looked out of the window. He saw Mrs Ogilvie at that moment go +down the steps, closing the door behind her. She walked away in the +direction of the nearest railway station. She held a dainty <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>parasol +over her head. He turned to where the eager little face of Sibyl was +watching him.</p> + +<p>“If you’re very quick, Miss,” he said, “I’ll do it.”</p> + +<p>“You are good,” said Sibyl. “Do you know, Watson, that you’re a very +nice man—you have very good impulses, I mean. I heard father once say +of a man who dined here that he had good impulses, and I think he had +a look of you; and you have very good impulses, too. Now let’s go; do +let’s be quick.”</p> + +<p>A moment later the footman and the child were in the street. Sibyl +walked on in front, and Watson a couple of feet behind her. Holman’s +shop was fortunately not far off, and they soon entered it.</p> + +<p>“Watson,” said the little girl, “you can stand in the doorway. It’s +very private, what I has to say to the Holmans; you must on no account +listen.”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss, I won’t.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl now entered the shop. Mrs. Holman was alone there. She was +attending in the shop while her husband was eating his dinner. She +looked very sad, and, as Sibyl expressed it afterwards, rusty. There +were days when Mrs. Holman did present that appearance—when her cap +seemed to want dusting and her collar to want freshness. Her black +dress, too, looked a little worn. Sibyl was very, very sorry for her +when she saw her in this dress.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p><p>“Dear! dear!” she said; “I am glad I came. You look as if you wanted +cheering up. Mrs. Holman, I’ve splendid news for you.”</p> + +<p>“What is that, my dear little lady? That you have got money to buy +another toy? But Mr. Holman said only as late as last night that he +wouldn’t send you another worn-out toy not for nobody. ’Tain’t fair, +my love. It seems like playing on your generosity, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“But I like them,” said the child; “I do really, truly. I paint them +up with the paints in my paint-box and make them look as good as new. +They are much more interesting than perfect toys, they are truly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, dear, your mother would not like it if she know we treated you +in what my husband says is a shabby way.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t think any more about that now, Mrs. Holman. You both treat me +as I love to be treated—as though I were your little friend.”</p> + +<p>“Which you are, darling—which you are.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mrs. Holman, I must hurry; I must tell you my good news. Do you +remember telling me last week that you had a hundred pounds put away +in the Savings Bank, and that you didn’t know what to do with it. You +said, ‘Money ought to make money,’ and you didn’t know how your +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>hundred pounds would make money. It was such a funny speech, and you +tried to ’splain it to me, and I tried to understand.”</p> + +<p>“It was silly of my husband and me to talk of it before you, Missy. It +is true we have got a hundred pounds. It is a nest-egg against a rainy +day.”</p> + +<p>“Now again you are talking funnily; a nest-egg against a rainy day?”</p> + +<p>“Against a time of trouble when we may want to spend the money.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I understand that,” answered the child.</p> + +<p>“And I had it well invested, but the money was paid back, and there +was nothing for it but to pop it into the Post Office Savings Bank.”</p> + +<p>“It’s there still, is it?” said Sibyl, her eyes shining.</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear.”</p> + +<p>“Well, now, what do you say to buying bits of gold with it?”</p> + +<p>“Bits of gold with our hundred pounds?” said Mrs. Holman, staring at +Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is exactly what I mean; bits of gold. You will be able to +if you keep it long enough. If you promise to keep that money safe you +may be able to buy great lumps of gold out of my father’s gold mine. +My father has gone to Australia to——Oh, I must not tell you, for it +really is an awful, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>awful secret; but, anyhow, when he comes back +you’ll be able to make a lot of money out of your money, to buy heaps +of bits of gold. Will you promise to keep that hundred pounds till +father comes home? That’s what I came about, to ask you to promise, +and Watson came with me because Miss Winstead wouldn’t. Will you +promise, dear Mrs. Holman?”</p> + +<p>“Bless you, darling,” said Mrs. Holman, “so that is why your father +has gone away. It do sound exciting.”</p> + +<p>“It’s awfully exciting, isn’t it? We shall all be so rich. Mother said +so, and mother ought to know. You’ll be rich, and I’ll be rich, and +dear, dear nursie will be rich, and even Watson. Watson has got such +good impulses. He’ll be rich, too, and he shall marry the girl he is +fond of; and there is a friend of mine, he wants to marry another +girl, and they shall be rich and they shall marry. Oh, nobody need be +sorrowful any more. Everybody will be quite happy when father comes +back. You’ll be able to have your shop in Palace Road, and oh, be sure +you keep that hundred pounds till then.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl did not wait for Mrs. Holman to make any further remark. Mrs. +Holman’s eyes looked bright and excited; the child dashed out of the +shop.</p> + +<p>“Come, Watson,” she said, “you’ll have a splendid <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>appetite for your +dinner, and you have done a very good deed. You have denied yourself, +Watson, and made a sorrowful woman happy. What do you think of that?”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<p>About this time Mrs. Ogilvie was subjected to a somewhat severe form +of temptation. It had been one of the biggest dreams of her life to +possess a country place. She had never been satisfied with the fact +that she and her husband must live in town except when they went to +lodgings at the seaside, or were on visits to their friends. She +wanted to have their own country place to go to just when she pleased, +a place where she could invite her friends whenever the whim seized +her. In an evil moment, almost immediately after Ogilvie had gone to +Australia, she had visited a house agent and told him some of her +desires.</p> + +<p>“My husband is not prepared to buy a place now,” she said in +conclusion, “but he soon will be in a position to do so, and I want +you to look round for me and tell me if anything nice happens to come +into the market.”</p> + +<p>The agent had replied that he would be sure to let his client know if +anything suitable came his way. Very soon places, apparently quite to +Mrs. Ogilvie’s heart, did come in the agent’s way, and then somehow, +in some fashion, other house agents got wind <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>of Mrs. Ogilvie’s +desire, and now scarcely a post came that did not bring her most +tempting prospectuses with regard to country places. There was one in +particular which so exactly pleased her that she became quite +<i>distrait</i> and restless except when she was talking of it. She went to +see this special place several times. It was on the Thames just above +Richmond. The grounds sloped down to the water. The house itself was +built in a low, rambling, eccentric fashion. It covered a considerable +extent of ground; there were several gardens, and they were all nicely +kept and were bright with flowers, and had many overhanging trees. The +house itself, too, had every modern comfort. There were many bedrooms +and several fine reception rooms, and there were tennis and croquet +lawns in the grounds, all smooth as velvet and perfectly level. There +were also kitchen-gardens, and some acres of land, as yet undevoted to +any special purpose, at the back of the house. It was just the sort of +place which a man who was in a nice position in society might be glad +to own. Its late owner had given it the somewhat eccentric title of +Silverbel, and certainly the place was as bright and charming as its +name.</p> + +<p>This desirable little property was to be obtained, with its +surrounding acres, for the modest sum of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>twenty thousand pounds, and +Mrs. Ogilvie was so fascinated by the thought of being mistress of +Silverbel, on the lovely winding River Thames, that she wrote to her +husband on the subject.</p> + +<p>“It is the very best place of its kind in the market,” she wrote. “It +was sold to its present owner for thirty thousand pounds, but he is +obliged to live abroad and is anxious to sell it, and would give it +for twenty thousand. I want you, when you receive this, to wire to me +to carry on negotiations in your absence. I have already consulted our +lawyer, Mr. Acland. He says the house is drained, and the air of the +place would be just the kind to suit Sibyl. She would enjoy so much +her row on the river, and all our friends would like it. With the +money you must now have at your disposal you can surely gratify me +with regard to Silverbel.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie had, of course, not yet received any answer to her +letter, but she visited Silverbel twice a week, and took Sibyl also to +see the beautiful place.</p> + +<p>“It will be yours when father comes home,” she said to the child.</p> + +<p>Sibyl skipped about madly.</p> + +<p>“It’s just too ’licious!” she said. “Is this one of the things God +gives us because we are rich? Isn’t <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>it kind of Lord Jesus to make us +rich? Don’t you love Him very, very much, mother?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie always turned aside when Sibyl spoke to her about her +love for the Lord Jesus. Not that she considered herself by any means +an irreligious woman. She went to church always once, and sometimes +twice on Sunday. She subscribed to any number of charities, and as the +little girl now spoke her eyes became full of a soft light.</p> + +<p>“We can have a bazaar here,” she said, “a bazaar for the Home for +Incurables at Watleigh. Lady Severn was talking to me about it last +night, and said how terribly it needed funds. Sibyl, when father comes +back we will have a great big bazaar here at lovely Silverbel, and a +marquee on the lawn, and we will ask all the most charitable people in +London to take stalls; some of the big-wigs, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Big-wigs?” said Sibyl, “what are they?”</p> + +<p>“People, my dear child, who are high up in the social scale.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand, mother,” answered Sibyl. “Oh, do look at this +rose, did you ever see such a perfect beauty? May I pick it, mother? +It is just perfect, isn’t it, not quite full out and yet not a bud. +I’d like very much to send it to my ownest father.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p><p>“Silly child! Yes, of course you may pick it, but it will be dead long +before it reaches him.”</p> + +<p>“It’s heart won’t be dead,” said Sibyl. She did not know why she made +the latter remark. She often did say things which she but half +understood. She carefully picked the rose and fastened it into the +front of her white dress. When she returned to town that evening she +put the rose in water and looked at it with affectionate interest.</p> + +<p>“What a pretty flower! Where did my darling get it?” said nurse.</p> + +<p>“At Silverbel, the beautiful, beautiful place that father is going to +buy when he is rich. You can’t think how good mother is growing, +nursie; she is getting better and better every day.”</p> + +<p>“H’m!” said nurse.</p> + +<p>“Why do you make those sort of noises when I speak of my mother? I +don’t like it,” said the child. “But I must tell you about Silverbel. +Mother says it is practicalically ours now. I don’t quite know what +she means by practicalically, but I suppose she means that it is +almost our place. Anyhow, when my dearest rich father comes back it +will be ours, and we are going to make poor Mr. Holman quite rich, and +you, darling nursie, quite rich, and—and others quite rich. We are +going to have a great big bazaar at Silverbel, and the <i>big-wigs</i> are +coming <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>to it. Isn’t it a funny word! perhaps you don’t know what +big-wigs are, but I do.”</p> + +<p>Nurse laughed.</p> + +<p>“Eat your supper and go to bed, Miss Sibyl. You are staying up a great +deal too late, and you are learning things you had better know nothing +about.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Mrs. Ogilvie downstairs was having a consultation with her +lawyer.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to lose the place,” she said. “My husband is safe to be +satisfied with my decision.”</p> + +<p>“If you have really made up your mind to pay twenty thousand pounds +for the place, and I cannot say that I think it at all dear,” replied +the lawyer, “I have no objection to lending you a couple of thousand +pounds to pay a deposit. You need not complete the purchase for at +least three months, and I have not the slightest doubt I can further +arrange that you may go into possession, say—well, any time you like +after the deposit money is paid.”</p> + +<p>“Can you really?” said Mrs. Ogilvie, her eyes growing dark and almost +passionate in their eagerness.</p> + +<p>“At the worst it could be taken off your hands,” he answered; “but +doubtless, from what you tell me, Ogilvie will be well able to +complete the thing; only remember, pray remember, Mrs. Ogilvie, that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>this is rather a big matter, and if by any chance your husband does +not find the Lombard Deeps all that Lord Grayleigh expects”—he paused +and looked thoughtful. “I can lend you the money if you wish it,” he +said then abruptly.</p> + +<p>“The money to enable me to pay a deposit?” she said.</p> + +<p>“Yes; two thousand pounds; I believe the owners will take that on +condition that the purchase is completed, say, in October.”</p> + +<p>“My husband will be back by then. I have a great mind to agree,” she +said. She almost trembled in her eagerness. After a moment’s pause she +spoke.</p> + +<p>“I will accept your offer, Mr. Acland. I don’t know where to go in +August and September, and Silverbel will be the very place. Mr. +Ogilvie will thank you most heartily for your generous trust in us +both when he comes back.”</p> + +<p>“I have plenty of funds to meet this loan,” thought the lawyer. “I am +safe so far.” Aloud he said, “Then I will go and see the owners +to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“This clinches the matter,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, “I will begin ordering +the furniture immediately.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer and the lady had a little further conversation, and then +Mrs. Ogilvie dressed and went <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>out to dine, and told many of her +friends of her golden dreams.</p> + +<p>“A place in the country, a place like Silverbel, has always been the +longing of my life,” she said, and she looked pathetic and almost +ethereal, as she spoke, and as though nothing pleased her more than a +ramble through country lanes with buttercups and daisies within reach.</p> + +<p>On the following Sunday, Rochester happened to lunch with Mrs. Ogilvie +and her little daughter. Mrs. Ogilvie talked during the entire meal of +the beautiful place which was soon to be hers.</p> + +<p>“You shall come with Sibyl and me to see it to-morrow,” she said. “I +will ask Lady Helen to come, too. I will send her a note by messenger. +We might meet at Victoria Station at eleven o’clock, and go to +Silverbel and have lunch at the little inn on the river.”</p> + +<p>Rochester agreed somewhat eagerly. His eyes brightened. He looked at +Sibyl, who gave him a meaning, affectionate, sympathetic glance. She +would enjoy very much seeing the lovers wandering through beautiful +Silverbel side by side.</p> + +<p>“It’s the most darling, lovely place,” she said; “nobody knows how +beautiful it is. I do hope it will soon be ours.”</p> + +<p>“When our ship comes in, it will be ours,” said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>Mrs. Ogilvie, and she +laughed merrily and looked full of happiness.</p> + +<p>When the servants left the room, however, Rochester bent forward and +said something to Mrs. Ogilvie which did not please that good lady +quite so much.</p> + +<p>“Have you heard the rumors with regard to the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“What rumors?” Mrs. Ogilvie looked anxious. “I know nothing whatever +about business,” she said, testily, “I leave all that absolutely to my +husband. I know that he considers the mine an excellent one, but his +full report cannot yet have reached England.”</p> + +<p>“Of course it has not. Ogilvie’s report in full cannot come to hand +for another six weeks. I allude now to a paragraph in one of the great +financial papers, in which the mine is somewhat depreciated, the gold +being said to be much less to the ton than was originally supposed, +and the strata somewhat shallow, and terminating abruptly. Doubtless +there is no truth in it.”</p> + +<p>“Not a word, not a word,” said Mrs. Ogilvie; “but I make a point of +being absolutely ignorant with regard to gold mines. I consider it +positively wrong of a woman to mix herself up in such masculine +matters. All the sweet femininity of character <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>must depart if such +knowledge is carried to any extent.”</p> + +<p>“Lady Helen knows about all these sort of things, and yet I think she +is quite feminine,” said Rochester; and then he colored faintly and +looked at Sibyl, whose eyes danced with fun.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie slowly rose from the table.</p> + +<p>“You will find cigars in that box,” she said. “No, Sibyl, you are not +to stay with Mr. Rochester; come to the drawing-room with me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do let her stay,” earnestly pleaded the young man, “she has often +sat with me while I smoked before.”</p> + +<p>“Well, as you please, but don’t spoil her,” said the mother. She left +the room, and Sibyl curled herself up luxuriously in a deep armchair +near Mr. Rochester.</p> + +<p>“I have a lot of things to ask you,” she said; “I am not going to be +like my ownest mother, I am going to be like Lady Helen. I want to +understand about the gold mine. I want to understand why, if you give +your money to a certain thing, you get back little bits of gold. Can +you make the gold into sovereigns, is that what happens?”</p> + +<p>“It is extremely difficult for me to explain,” said Rochester, “but I +think the matter lies in a nutshell. If your father gives a good +report of the mine there <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>will be a great deal of money subscribed, as +it is called, by different people.”</p> + +<p>“What’s subscribed?”</p> + +<p>“Well, given. You know what it means when people ask your mother to +subscribe to a charity?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I know quite well; and Mr. and Mrs. Holman, they may +subscribe, may they?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, whoever they may be. I don’t know Mr. and Mrs. Holman, but of +course they may intend to subscribe, and other people will do the +same, and if we give, say, a hundred pounds we shall get back perhaps +one hundred and fifty, perhaps two hundred.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s very nice,” said Sibyl; “I seem to understand, and yet I +don’t understand.”</p> + +<p>“You understand enough, my dear little girl, quite enough. Don’t +puzzle your poor little brain. Your mother is right, these are matters +for men.”</p> + +<p>“And you are quite certain that my father will say that the beautiful +mine is full of gold?” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“He will say it if the gold is there.”</p> + +<p>“And if it is not?”</p> + +<p>“Then he will tell the truth.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said Sibyl, proudly. “My father couldn’t tell a lie if he +was even to try. It would be impossible, wouldn’t it, Mr. Rochester?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p><p>“I should say quite impossible,” replied Rochester firmly.</p> + +<p>“You are awfully nice, you know,” she said; “you are nice enough even +for Lady Helen. I do hope father will find the mine full up to the +brim with gold. Such a lot of people will be happy then.”</p> + +<p>“So they will,” replied Rochester.</p> + +<p>“And darlingest mother can have the beautiful place. Hasn’t the new +place got a lovely name—Silverbel?”</p> + +<p>“It sounds very pretty, Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“And you will come to-morrow and see it, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And you will bring Lady Helen?”</p> + +<p>“Your mother will bring Lady Helen.”</p> + +<p>“It’s all the same,” replied Sibyl. “Oh, I am so glad.”</p> + +<p>She talked a little longer, and then went upstairs.</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead often spent Sunday with her friends. She was not in the +schoolroom now as Sibyl entered. Sibyl thought this was a golden +opportunity to write to her father. She sat down and prepared to write +a letter. This was always a somewhat laborious task. Her thoughts +flowed freely enough, but her hand could not wield the pen quite quick +enough for the eager thoughts, nor was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>her spelling perfect, nor her +written thoughts quite so much to the point as her spoken ones. +Nevertheless, it was full time for her father to hear from her, and +she had a great deal to say. She took a sheet of paper, dipped her pen +in the ink, and began:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">Darlingist Father</span>,—Yesterday I picked a rose at Silverbel, +the place that mother wants us to have when you com bak +rich. Here’s the rose for you. Pwaps it will be withered, +father, but its hart will be alive. Kiss it and think of +Sibyl. It’s hart is like my hart, and my hart thinks of you +morning, noon, and night, evry night, father, and evry +morning, and allways, allways during the hole of the day. +It’s most portant, father, that you should come back rich. +It’s most solum nesesarey. I do so hope the mine will be +full up to the brim with gold, for if it is a lot of people +here will be made happy. Have you found the mine yet, +father, and is it ful to the brim of gold? You don’t know +how portant it is. It’s cos of Mr. and Mrs. Holman, father, +and their dusty broken toys, and cos of nursie and her +spectakles, and cos of one who wants to marry another one, +and I mustn’t tell names, and cos of the big-wigs, father. +Oh, it is portant.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 15em;">“Your lovin</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">“<span class="smcap">Sibyl</span>.”</span></p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p><p>“He’ll understand,” thought Sibyl; “he’s wonderful for seeing right +through a thing, and he’ll quite know what I mean by the ‘heart of the +rose,’” and she kissed the rose passionately and put it inside the +letter, and nurse directed the letter for her, and it was dropped into +the pillar-box that same night.</p> + +<p>The letter was not read by the one it was intended for until—but that +refers to another part of the story.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p>The next day was a glorious one, and Lady Helen, Mr. Rochester, Mrs. +Ogilvie, and Sibyl all met at Victoria Station in time to catch the +11.20 train to Richmond, the nearest station to Silverbel. There a +carriage was to meet them, to take them to the house. They were to +lunch at a small inn close by, and afterwards have a row on the river; +altogether a very delightful day was planned.</p> + +<p>It was now the heart of a glorious summer—such a summer as does not +often visit England. The sky was cloudless; the sun shone, but the +great heat was tempered by a soft, delicious breeze.</p> + +<p>Sibyl, all in white, with a white shady hat making her little face +even more lovely than usual, stood by her mother’s side, close to a +first-class carriage, to await the arrival of the other two.</p> + +<p>Lady Helen and Rochester were seen walking slowly down the platform. +Sibyl gave one of her gleeful shouts, and ran to meet them.</p> + +<p>“Here you both is!” she said, and she looked full up at Lady Helen, +with such a charming glance of mingled affection and understanding, +that Lady Helen blushed, in spite of herself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p><p>Lady Helen Douglas was a very nice-looking girl, not exactly pretty, +but her gray eyes were capable of many shades of emotion. They were +large, and full of intelligence. Her complexion was almost colorless. +She had a slim, graceful figure. Her jet-black hair, which she wore +softly coiled round her head, was also thick and beautiful. Sibyl used +to like to touch that hair, and loved very much to nestle up close to +the graceful figure, and take shy peeps into the depths of the eyes +which seemed to hold secrets.</p> + +<p>“You do look nice,” said Sibyl, speaking in a semi-whisper, but in a +tone of great ecstasy, “and so does Mr. Rochester. Do you know, I +always call him nice Mr. Rochester. Watson is so interested in him.”</p> + +<p>“Who is Watson?” asked Lady Helen.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know, he is our footman. He is very nice, too; he is full +of impulses, and they are all good. I expect the reason he is so +awfully interested in <i>dear</i> Mr. Rochester is because they are both +having love affairs. You know, Watson has a girl, too, he is awfully +fond of; I ’spect they’ll marry when father comes back with all the +gold. You don’t know how fond I am of Watson; he’s a very great, +special friend of mine. Now here’s the carriage. Let’s all get in. +Aren’t you both glad you’re <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>coming, and coming together, both of you +<i>together</i>, to visit Silverbel. It’s a ’licious place; there are all +kinds of little private walks and shrubberies, and seats for two under +trees. Two that want to be alone can be alone at Silverbel. Now let’s +all get into the carriage.”</p> + +<p>Poor Rochester and Lady Helen at that moment thought Sibyl almost an +<i>enfant terrible</i>. However, there was no help for it. She would have +her say, and her words were bright and her interest of the keenest. It +mattered nothing at all to her that passers-by turned to look and +smiled in an amused way.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie was in an excellent humor. All the way down she talked to +Lady Helen of the bazaar which she had already arranged was to take +place at Silverbel during the last week in August.</p> + +<p>“I had meant to put it off until my husband returned,” she remarked +finally, “but on reflection that seemed a pity, for he is scarcely +likely to be back before the end of October, and by then it would be +too late; and, besides, the poor dear Home for Incurables needs its +funds, and why should it languish when we are all anxious, more than +anxious, to be charitable? Mr. Acland, my lawyer, is going to pay a +deposit on the price of the estate, so I can enter into possession +almost immediately. I am going to get Morris & Liberty to furnish the +place, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>and I shall send down servants next week. But about the +bazaar. I mean it to be perfect in every way. The stalls are to be +held by unmarried titled ladies. Your services, Lady Helen, must be +secured immediately.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” cried Sibyl, “you are to have a most beautiful stall, a +flower stall: what do you say?”</p> + +<p>“If I have a stall I will certainly choose a flower stall,” replied +Lady Helen, and she smiled at Sibyl, and patted her hand.</p> + +<p>They soon arrived at Richmond, and got into the carriage which was +waiting for them, and drove to Silverbel. They had lunch at the inn as +arranged, and then they wandered about the grounds, and presently +Sibyl had her wish, for Rochester and Lady Helen strolled away from +her mother and herself, and walked down a shady path to the right of +the house.</p> + +<p>“There they go!” cried the child.</p> + +<p>“There who go, Sibyl?” asked Mrs. Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“The one who wants to marry the other,” replied Sibyl. “Hush, mother, +we are not to know, we are to be quite blind. Aren’t you awfully +incited?”</p> + +<p>“You are a very silly, rude little girl,” replied the mother. “You +must not make the sort of remarks you are always making to Mr. +Rochester and Lady Helen. Such remarks are in very bad form. Now, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>don’t take even the slightest notice when they return.”</p> + +<p>“Aren’t I to speak to them?” asked Sibyl, raising her eyes in wonder.</p> + +<p>“Of course, but you are not to say anything special.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing special. Am I to talk about the weather?”</p> + +<p>“No; don’t be such a little goose.”</p> + +<p>“I always notice,” replied Sibyl, softly, “that when <i>quite</i> strangers +meet, they talk about the weather. I thought that was why. Can’t I say +anything more—more as if they were my very dear old friends? I +thought they’d like it. I thought they’d like to know that there was +one here who understanded all about it.”</p> + +<p>“About it?”</p> + +<p>“Their love, mother, their love for—for each other.”</p> + +<p>“Who may the one be who is supposed to understand?”</p> + +<p>“Me, mother,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie burst into a ringing laugh.</p> + +<p>“You are a most ridiculous little girl,” she said. “Now, listen; you +are not to take any notice when they come back. They are not engaged; +perhaps they never will be. Anyhow, you will make yourself an +intensely disagreeable child if you make such <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>remarks as you have +already made. Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>“You has put it plain, mother,” replied Sibyl. “I think I do. Now, +let’s look at the flowers.”</p> + +<p>“I have ordered the landlord of the inn to serve tea on the lawn,” +continued Mrs. Ogilvie. “Is it not nice to feel that we are going to +have tea on our own lawn, Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“It’s lovely!” replied Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“I am devoted to the country,” continued the mother; “there is no +place like the country for me.”</p> + +<p>“So I think, too,” replied Sibyl. “I love the country. We’ll have all +the very poorest people down here, won’t we, mother?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“All the people who want to be made happy; Mr. and Mrs. Holman, and +the other faded old people in the almshouses that I went to see one +time with Miss Winstead.”</p> + +<p>“Now you are talking in your silly way again,” replied Mrs. Ogilvie. +“You make me quite cross when you talk of that old couple, Mr. and +Mrs. Holman.”</p> + +<p>“But, mother, why aren’t they to be rich if we are to be rich? Do you +know that Mrs. Holman is saving up her money to buy some of the gold +out of father’s mine. She expects to get two hundred pounds instead of +one. It’s very puzzling, and yet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>I seem to understand. Oh, here comes +Mr. Landlord with the tea-things. How inciting!”</p> + +<p>The table was spread, and cake, bread and butter, and fruit provided. +Lady Helen and Rochester came back. They both looked a little +conscious and a little afraid of Sibyl, but as she turned her back on +them the moment they appeared, and pretended to be intensely busy +picking a bouquet of flowers, they took their courage in their hands +and came forward and joined in the general conversation.</p> + +<p>Lady Helen elected to pour out tea, and was extremely cheerful, +although she could not help reddening when Sibyl brought her a very +large marguerite daisy, and asked her to pull off the petals and see +whether the rhyme came right.</p> + +<p>“What rhyme?” asked Lady Helen.</p> + +<p>“I know it all, shall I say it to you?” cried Sibyl. She began to pull +off the different petals, and to repeat in a childish sing-song +voice:—</p> + +<div class="centerbox bbox"><p>“One he loves, two he loves, three he loves they say,<br /> +Four he loves with all his heart, five he casts away,<br /> +Six <i>he</i> loves, seven <i>she</i> loves, eight they both love,<br /> +Nine he comes, ten he tarries,<br /> +Eleven he woos, twelve he marries.”</p></div> + +<p>Sibyl repeated this nonsense with extreme gusto, and when the final +petal on the large daisy proclaimed that “twelve he marries,” she +flung the stalk at Rochester and laughed gaily.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p><p>“I knew <i>you’d</i> have luck,” she said. Then she caught her mother’s +warning eye and colored painfully, thus making the situation, if +possible, a little more awkward.</p> + +<p>“Suppose we go for a row on the river this lovely afternoon,” said +Lady Helen, starting up restlessly. She had talked of the coming +bazaar, and had wandered through the rooms at Silverbel, and had +listened to Mrs. Ogilvie’s suggestions with regard to furniture and +different arrangements until she was almost tired of the subject.</p> + +<p>Rochester sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>“I can easily get a boat,” he said; “I’ll go and consult with mine +host.”</p> + +<p>He sauntered across the grounds, and Sibyl, after a moment’s +hesitation, followed him. A boat was soon procured, and they all found +themselves on the shining silver Thames.</p> + +<p>“Is that why our house is called Silverbel?” asked Sibyl. “Is it ’cos +we can see the silver shine of the river, and ’cos it is <i>belle</i>, +French for beautiful?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps so,” answered the mother with a smile.</p> + +<p>The evening came on, the heat of the day was over, the sun faded.</p> + +<p>“What a pity we must go back to London,” said Sibyl. “I don’t think I +ever had such a lovely day before.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p><p>“We shall soon be back here,” replied Mrs. Ogilvie. “I shall see about +furnishing next week at the latest, and we can come down whenever we +are tired of town.”</p> + +<p>“That will be lovely,” said Sibyl. “Oh, won’t my pony love cantering +over the roads here!”</p> + +<p>When they landed at the little quay just outside the inn, the landlord +came down to meet them. He held a telegram in his hand.</p> + +<p>“This came for you, madam, in your absence,” he said, and he gave the +telegram to Mrs. Ogilvie. She tore it open. It was from her lawyer, +Mr. Acland, and ran as follows:</p> + +<p>“Ominous rumors with regard to Lombard Deeps have reached me. Better +not go any further at present with the purchase of Silverbel.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie’s face turned pale. She looked up and met the fixed stare +of her little daughter and of Rochester. Lady Helen had turned away. +She was leaning over the rails of the little garden and looking down +into the swiftly flowing river.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie’s face grew hard. She crushed up the telegram in her +hand.</p> + +<p>“I hope there is nothing wrong?” asked Rochester.</p> + +<p>“Nothing at all,” she replied. “Yes, we will come here next week. +Sibyl, don’t stare in that rude way.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p><p>The return journey was not as lively as that happy one in the morning.</p> + +<p>Sibyl felt through her sensitive little frame that her mother was +worried about something. Rochester also looked anxious. Lady Helen +alone seemed unconscious and <i>distrait</i>. When the child nestled up to +her she put her arm round her waist.</p> + +<p>“Are you sad about anything, darling Lady Helen?” whispered Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“No, Sibyl; I am quite happy.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are thinking very hard?”</p> + +<p>“I often think.”</p> + +<p>“I do so want you to be awfully happy.”</p> + +<p>“I know you do, and I think I shall be.”</p> + +<p>“Then that is right. <i>Twelve he marries</i>. Wasn’t it sweet of the +marguerite daisy to give Mr. Rochester just the right petal at the +end; wasn’t it luck?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; but hush, don’t talk so loud.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Rochester now changed his seat, and came opposite to where Lady +Helen and the child had placed themselves. He did not talk to Lady +Helen, but he looked at her several times. Presently he took one of +Sibyl’s hands, and stroked it fondly.</p> + +<p>“Does Lady Helen tell you beautiful stories too?” asked Sibyl, +suddenly.</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered; “she is quite naughty about <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>that. She never tells +me the charming stories she tells you.”</p> + +<p>“You ought to,” said Sibyl, looking at her earnestly; “it would do him +good. It’s an awfully nice way, if you want to give a person a home +truth, to put it into a story. Nurse told me about that, and I +remembered it ever since. She used to put her home truths into +proverbs when I was quite young, such as, ‘A burnt child dreads the +fire,’ or ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure,’ <span style="white-space: nowrap;">or——”</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, that will do, Sibyl.” Lady Helen spoke; there was almost a +piteous appeal in the words.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Sibyl, “perhaps it is better to put home truths into +stories, not proverbs. It’s like having more sugar. The ‘home truth’ +is the pill, and when it is sugared all over you can swallow it. You +can’t swallow it <i>without</i> the sugar, can you? Nursie begins her +stories like this: ‘Miss Sibyl, once upon a time I knew a little +girl,’ and then she tells me all about a horrid girl, and I know the +horrid girl is me. I am incited, of course, but very, very soon I get +down to the pill. Now, I am sure, Mr. Rochester, there are some things +you ought to be told, there are some things you do wrong, aren’t +there, Mr. Rochester?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Sibyl, do stop that ceaseless chatter,” cried her mother from the +other end of the carriage; “you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>talk the most utter nonsense,” and +Sibyl for once was effectually silenced.</p> + +<p>The party broke up at Victoria Station, and Mrs. Ogilvie and her +little daughter drove home. As soon as ever they arrived there Watson +informed Mrs. Ogilvie that Mr. Acland was waiting to see her in the +library.</p> + +<p>“Tiresome man!” she muttered, but she went to see him at once. The +electric light was on; the room reminded her uncomfortably of her +husband. He spent a great deal of time in his library, more than a +very happy married man would have done. She had often found him there +with a perplexed brow, and a heart full of anxiety. She had found him +there, too, in his rare moments of exultation and happiness. She would +have preferred to see the lawyer in any room but this.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said, “why did you send me that ridiculous telegram?”</p> + +<p>“You would not be surprised if you had read the article which appeared +to-day in <i>The Financial Enquirer</i>.”</p> + +<p>“I have never heard of <i>The Financial Enquirer</i>.”</p> + +<p>“But City men know it,” replied Mr. Acland, “and to a great extent it +governs the market. It is one of our leading financial papers. The +rumors it alludes to may be untrue, but they will influence <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>the +subscriptions made by the public to the share capital. In fact, with +so ominous an article coming from so first-rate a source, nothing but +a splendid report from Ogilvie can save the mine.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie drummed with her delicate taper fingers on the nearest +table.</p> + +<p>“How you puzzle a poor woman with your business terms,” she said. +“What do I know about mines? When my husband left me he said that he +would come back a rich man. He gave me his promise, he must keep his +word.”</p> + +<p>“He will naturally keep his word if he can, and if the mine is all +that Lord Grayleigh anticipates everything will be right,” replied +Acland. “There is no man more respected than Ogilvie in the City. His +report as assayer will save the situation; that is, if it is +first-rate. But if it is a medium report the capital will not be +sufficiently subscribed to, and if the report happens to be bad the +whole thing will fall through. We shall know soon now.”</p> + +<p>“This is very disturbing,” said Mrs. Ogilvie. “I have had a long, +tiring day, and you give me a headache. When is my husband’s report +likely to reach England?”</p> + +<p>“Not for several weeks, of course. It ought to be here in about two +months’ time, but we may have a cablegram almost any day. The public +are just in a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>waiting attitude, they want to invest their money. If +the mine turns out a good thing shares will be subscribed to any +extent. Everything depends on Ogilvie’s report.”</p> + +<p>“Won’t you stay and have some supper?” said Mrs. Ogilvie, carelessly. +“I have said already that I do not understand these things.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot stay, I came to see you because it is important. I want to +know if you really wish to go on with the purchase of Silverbel. I am +ready to pay a deposit for you of £2,000 on the price of the estate, +which will, of course, clinch the purchase, and this deposit I have +arranged to pay to-morrow, but under the circumstances would it not be +best to delay? If your husband cannot give a good report of the mine +he will not want to buy an expensive place like Silverbel. My advice +to you, Mrs. Ogilvie, is to let Silverbel go. I happen to know at this +moment of another purchaser who is only waiting to close if you +decline. When your husband comes back rich you can easily buy another +place.”</p> + +<p>“No other place will suit me except Silverbel,” she answered.</p> + +<p>“I strongly recommend you not to buy it now.”</p> + +<p>“And I intend to have it. I am going down there to live next week. Of +course, you arranged that I could go in at once after the deposit was +paid?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p><p>“Yes, on sufferance, subject to your completing the purchase in +October.”</p> + +<p>“Then pray don’t let the matter be disturbed again. I shall order +furniture immediately. You are quite a raven, a croaker of bad news, +Mr. Acland.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Acland raised his hand in deprecation.</p> + +<p>“I thought it only fair to tell you,” he answered, and the next moment +he left the house. As he did so, he uttered a solitary remark:</p> + +<p>“What a fool that woman is! I pity Ogilvie.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<p>It was the last week in July when Mrs. Ogilvie took possession of +Silverbel. She had ordered furniture in her usual reckless fashion, +going to the different shops where she knew she could obtain credit. +The house, already beautiful, looked quite lovely when decorated by +the skilful hands which arranged draperies and put furniture into the +most advantageous positions.</p> + +<p>Sibyl’s room, just over the front porch, was really worthy of her. It +was a bower of whiteness and innocence. It had lattice windows which +looked out on to the lovely grounds. Climbing roses peeped in through +the narrow panes, and sent their sweet fragrance to greet the child +when the windows were open and she put her head out.</p> + +<p>Sibyl thought more than ever of her father as she took possession of +the lovely room at Silverbel. What a beautiful world it was! and what +a happy little girl she, Sibyl, thought herself in possessing such +perfect parents. Her prayers became now passionate thanks. She had got +so much that it seemed unkind to ask Lord Jesus for one thing more. Of +course, He was making the mine full of gold, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>and He was making her +father very, very rich, and everyone, everyone she knew was soon to be +happy.</p> + +<p>Lady Helen Douglas came to stay at Silverbel, and this seemed to give +an added touch to the child’s sense of enjoyment, for Lady Helen had +at last, in a shy half whisper, told the eager little listener that +she did love Mr. Rochester, and, further, that they were only waiting +to proclaim their engagement to the world until the happy time when +Sibyl’s father came back.</p> + +<p>“For Jim,” continued Lady Helen, “will take shares in the Lombard +Deeps, and as soon as ever he does this we can afford to marry. But +you must not speak of this, Sibyl. I have only confided in you because +you have been our very good friend all along.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl longed to write off at once to her father to hurry up matters +with regard to the gold mine.</p> + +<p>“Of course, it is full of gold, quite full,” thought the child; “but I +hope father will write, or, better still, come home quickly and tell +us all about it.”</p> + +<p>She began to count the days now to her father’s return, and was +altogether in such a happy mood that it was delightful to be in her +presence or to see her joyful face.</p> + +<p>Sibyl was nearly beside herself with delight at having exchanged her +dull town life for this happy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>country one. She quickly made friends +with the poor people in the nearest village, who were all attracted by +her bright ways and pretty face. Her mother also gave her a small part +of the garden to do what she liked with, and when she was not digging +industriously, or riding her pony, or talking to Lady Helen, or +engaged in her lessons, she followed her mother about like a faithful +little dog.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie was so pleased and contented with her purchase that she +was wonderfully amiable. She often now sat in the long evenings with +Sibyl by her side, and listened without impatience to the child’s +rhapsodies about her father. Mrs. Ogilvie would also be glad when +Philip returned. But just now her thought of all thoughts was centred +on the bazaar. This bazaar was to clinch her position as a country +lady. All the neighbors round were expected to attend, and already she +was busy drawing up programmes of the coming festivities, and +arranging with a great firm in London for the special marquee, which +was to grace her lawn right down to the river’s edge.</p> + +<p>The bazaar was expected to last for quite three days, and, during that +time, a spirited band would play, and there would be various +entertainments of all sorts and descriptions. Little boats, with +colored flags and awnings, were to be in requisition on the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>brink of +the river, and people should pay heavily for the privilege of +occupying these boats.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie clapped her hands almost childishly when this last +brilliant idea came to her, and Sibyl thought that it was worthy of +mother, and entered into the scheme with childish enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The third week in August was finally decided as the best week for the +bazaar, and those friends who were not going abroad promised to stay +at Silverbel for the occasion.</p> + +<p>Some weeks after Mrs. Ogilvie had taken possession of Silverbel, Mr. +Acland called to see her.</p> + +<p>“We have had no cable yet from your husband,” he said, “and the rumors +continue to be ominous. I wish with all my heart we could silence +them. I, myself, believe in the Lombard Deeps, for Grayleigh is the +last man to lend his name or become chairman of a company which has +not brilliant prospects; but I can see that even he is a little +anxious.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, pray don’t croak,” was Mrs. Ogilvie’s response and then she once +again likened Mr. Acland to the raven.</p> + +<p>“You are a bird of ill-omen,” she said, shaking her finger playfully +in his face.</p> + +<p>He frowned as she addressed him; he could not see the witticism of her +remark.</p> + +<p>“When people are perfectly happy and know <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>nothing whatever with +regard to business, what is the good of coming and telling these +dismalities?” she continued. “I am nothing but a poor little feminine +creature, trying to do good, and to make myself happy in an innocent +way. Why will you come and croak? I know Philip quite well enough to +be certain that he would not have set foot on this expedition if he +had not been satisfied in advance that the mine was a good one.”</p> + +<p>“That is my own impression,” said Mr. Acland, thoughtfully; “but don’t +forget you are expected to complete the purchase of Silverbel by the +end of October.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Philip will be back before then,” answered Mrs. Ogilvie in a +light and cheerful tone. “Any day now we may get a cablegram. Well, +sweetheart, and what are you doing here?”</p> + +<p>Sibyl had entered the room, and was leaning against the window frame.</p> + +<p>“Any day we may expect what to happen, mother darling?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“We may expect a cable from father to say he is coming back again.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! do you think so? Oh, I am so happy!”</p> + +<p>Sibyl skipped lightly out of the room. She ran across the sunny, +radiant garden, and presently found herself in a sort of wilderness +which she had appropriated, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>and where she played at all sorts of +solitary games. In that wilderness she imagined herself at times a +lonely traveler, at other times a merchant carrying goodly pearls, at +other times a bandit engaged in feats of plunder. All possible scenes +in history or imagination that she understood did the child try to +enact in the wilderness. But she went there now with no intention of +posing in any imaginary part. She went there because her heart was +full.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lord Jesus, it is so beautiful of you,” she said, and she looked +up as she spoke full at the blue sky. “I can scarcely believe that my +ownest father will very soon be back again; it is quite too +beautiful.”</p> + +<p>A few days after this, and toward the end of the first week in August, +Sibyl was one day playing as usual in the grounds when the sound of +carriage wheels attracted her attention. She ran down to see who was +arriving, and a shout of delight came from her when she saw Lord +Grayleigh coming down the drive. He called the coachman to stop and +put out his head.</p> + +<p>“Jump into the carriage, Sib, I have not seen you for some time. When +are you going to pay me another visit at Grayleigh Manor?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, some time, but not at present,” replied Sibyl. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>“I am too happy +with mother here to think of going away. Isn’t Silverbel sweet, Lord +Grayleigh?”</p> + +<p>“Charming,” replied Grayleigh. “Is your mother in, little woman?”</p> + +<p>“I think so. She is very incited about the bazaar. Are you coming to +the bazaar?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, I will tell you presently.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl laid her little hand in Lord Grayleigh’s. He gave it a squeeze, +and she clasped it confidingly.</p> + +<p>“Do you know that I am so monstrous happy I scarcely know what to do,” +she said.</p> + +<p>“Because you have got a pretty new place?”</p> + +<p>“No, no, nothing of that sort. It’s ’cos father is coming back afore +long! He will cable, whatever that means, and soon afterward he’ll +come. I’m always thanking Lord Jesus about it. Isn’t it good of Him to +send my ownest father back so soon?”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh made no answer, unless an uneasy movement of his feet +signified a sense of discomfort. The carriage drew up at the porch and +he alighted. Sibyl skipped out after him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 307px;"> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" class="jpg smallgap" width="307" height="500" alt="“Shall I find mother for you?” asked Sibyl, leading +Lord Grayleigh across the lawn.—Page 208. Daddy’s Girl." title="" /> +<span class="caption">“Shall I find mother for you?” asked Sibyl, leading +Lord Grayleigh across the lawn.—Page <a href="#Page_208">208</a>. <i>Daddy’s Girl.</i></span> +</div> + +<p>“Shall I find mother for you?” she said. “Oh, there she is on the +lawn. Darlingest mother, she can think of nothing at present but the +bazaar, when all the big-wigs are to be present. You’re a big-wig, +aren’t you? I asked nurse what big-wigs were, and she said people with +handles. Mother said they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>were people in a <i>good social position</i>. I remember the words so well +’cos I couldn’t understand ’em, but when I asked Miss Winstead to +’splain, she said mother meant ladies and gentlemen, and when I asked +her to tell me what ladies and gentlemen was, she said people who +behaved nicely. Now isn’t it all very puzzling, ’cos the person who I +think behaves nicest of all is our footman, Watson. He has lovely +manners and splendid impulses; and perhaps the next nicest is dear +Mrs. Holman, and she keeps a toy-shop in a back street. But when I +asked mother if Watson and Mrs. Holman were big-wigs, she said I +spoked awful nonsense. What do you think, Lord Grayleigh? Please do +try to ’splain.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh had laughed during Sibyl’s long speech. He now laid his +hand on her arm.</p> + +<p>“A big-wig is quite an ugly word,” he said, “but a lady or a +gentleman, you will find them in all ranks of life.”</p> + +<p>“You haven’t ’splained a bit,” said the little girl. “Mother wants +big-wigs at her bazaar; you are one, so will you come?”</p> + +<p>“I will answer that question after I have seen your mother.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh crossed the lawn, and Sibyl, feeling dissatisfied, +turned away.</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t look quite happy,” she thought; “I’m <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>sorry he is coming +to take up mother’s time. Mother promised, and it’s most ’portant, to +ride with me this evening. It’s on account of poor Dan Scott it is so +’portant. Oh, I do hope she won’t forget. Perhaps Miss Winstead would +come if mother can’t. I promised poor Dan a basket of apples, and also +that I’d go and sit with him, and mother said he should cert’nly have +the apples, and that she and I would ride over with them. He broke his +arm a week ago, poor fellow! poor little Dan! I’ll go and find Miss +Winstead. If mother can’t come, she must.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl ran off in search of her governess, and Lord Grayleigh and Mrs. +Ogilvie, in deep conversation, paced up and down the lawn.</p> + +<p>“You didn’t hear by the last mail?” was Lord Grayleigh’s query.</p> + +<p>“No, I have not heard for two mails. I cannot account for his +silence.”</p> + +<p>“He is probably up country,” was Lord Grayleigh’s answer. “I thought +before cabling that I would come and inquire of you.”</p> + +<p>“I have not heard,” replied Mrs. Ogilvie. “Of course things are all +right, and Philip was never much of a correspondent. It probably +means, Lord Grayleigh, that he has completed his report, and is coming +back. I shall be glad, for I want him to be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>here some time before +October, in order to see about paying the rest of the money for our +new place. What do you think of Silverbel?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, quite charming,” said Lord Grayleigh, in that kind of tone which +clearly implied that he was not thinking about his answer.</p> + +<p>“I am anxious, of course, to complete the purchase,” continued Mrs. +Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” Lord Grayleigh raised his brows.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Acland lent me two thousand pounds to pay the deposit,” continued +the lady, “but we must complete by the end of October. When my husband +comes back rich, he will be able to do so. He will come back rich, +won’t he?” Here she looked up appealingly at Lord Grayleigh.</p> + +<p>“He will come back rich, or we shall have the deluge,” he replied, +oracularly. “Don’t be uneasy. As you have not heard I shall cable. I +shall wire to Brisbane, which I fancy is his headquarters.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” answered Mrs. Ogilvie, in an abstracted tone. “By the way, +if you are going back to town, may I make use of your carriage? There +are several things I want to order for my bazaar. It is to be in about +a fortnight now. You will remember that you are one of the patrons.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” he answered; “at what date is the bazaar to be held?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p><p>She named the arranged date, and he entered it in a gold-mounted +engagement book.</p> + +<p>“I shall stay in town to-night,” continued Mrs. Ogilvie. “Just wait +for me a moment, and I will get on my hat.”</p> + +<p>Soon afterward the two were driving back to the railway station. Mrs. +Ogilvie had forgotten all about her engagement to Sibyl. Sibyl saw her +go off with a feeling of deep disappointment, for Miss Winstead had a +headache, and declined to ride with the little girl. Dan Scott must +wait in vain for his apples. But should he wait? Sibyl wondered.</p> + +<p>She went down in a discontented way to a distant part of the grounds. +She was not feeling at all happy now. It was all very well to have a +heart bubbling over with good-nature and kindly impulses; but when +those impulses were flung back on herself, then the little girl felt +that latent naughtiness which was certainly an integral part of her +character. She saw Dan Scott’s old grandfather digging weeds in the +back garden. Dan Scott was one of the gardener’s boys. He was a +bright, cheery-faced little fellow, with sloe-black eyes and +tight-curling hair, and a winsome smile and white teeth. Sibyl had +made friends with him at once, and when he ceased to appear on the +scenes a week back, she was full of consternation, for Dan had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>fallen +from a tree, and broken his arm rather badly. He had been feverish +also, and could not come to attend to his usual work. His old +grandfather had at first rated the lad for having got into this +trouble, but then he had pitied him.</p> + +<p>Sibyl the day before had promised old Scott that she and her mother +would ride to Dan’s cottage and present him with a basket of early +apples. There were some ripening now on the trees, long in shape, +golden in color, and full of delicious juice.</p> + +<p>Sibyl had investigated these apples on her own account, and pronounced +them very good, and had thought that a basket of the fruit would +delight Dan. She had spoken to her mother on the subject, and her +mother, in the height of good-humor, had promised that the apples +should be gathered, and the little girl and she would ride down a +lovely country lane to Dan’s cottage. They were to start about six +o’clock, would ride under the shade of some spreading beech trees, and +come back in the cool of the evening.</p> + +<p>The whole plan was delightful, and Sibyl had been thinking about it +all day. Now her mother had gone off to town, and most clearly had +forgotten her promise to the child.</p> + +<p>“Well, Missy,” said old Scott as he dug his spade <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>deep down into the +soil; “don’t stand just there, Missy, you’ll get the earth all over +you.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl moved to a respectful distance.</p> + +<p>“How is Dan?” she asked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“A-wrastling with his pain,” answered Scott, a frown coming between +his brows.</p> + +<p>“Is he expecting me and mother with the beautiful apples?” asked +Sibyl, in a somewhat anxious tone.</p> + +<p>“Is he expecting you, Missy?” answered the old man, raising his +beetling brows and fixing his black eyes on the child. “Is he +a-counting the hours? Do ducks swim, Missy, and do little sick boys +a-smothered up in bed in small close rooms want apples and little +ladies to visit ’em or not? You said you’d go, Missy, and Dan he’s +counting the minutes.”</p> + +<p>“Of course I’ll go,” replied Sibyl, but she looked anxious and +<i>distrait</i>. Then she added, “I will go if I possibly can.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know there was any doubt about it, Missy, and I tell you Dan +is counting the minutes. Last thing he said afore I went out this +morning was, ‘I’ll see little Missy to-day, and she is to bring me a +basket of apples.’ Seems to me he thinks a sight more of you than the +fruit.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl turned pale as Scott continued to speak in an impressive voice.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p><p>“Dear, dear, it is quite dreadful,” she said, “I could cry about it, I +could really, truly.”</p> + +<p>“But why, Missy? What’s up? I don’t like to see a little lady like you +a-fretting.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Scott, I’m awfully, awfully sorry; I am terribly afraid I can’t +go.”</p> + +<p>Old Scott ceased to delve the ground. He leant on the top of his spade +and looked full at the child. His sunken eyes seemed to burn into +hers.</p> + +<p>“You promised you’d go,” he said then slowly.</p> + +<p>“I did, I certainly did, but mother was to have gone with me, and she +has had to go to town about the bazaar. I suppose you couldn’t take +back the apples with you when you go home to-night, Mr. Scott?”</p> + +<p>“I could not,” answered the old man. He began to dig with lusty and, +in the child’s opinion, almost venomous vigor.</p> + +<p>“Besides,” he added, “it wouldn’t be the same. It’s you he wants to +see as much as the fruit. If I was a little lady I’d keep my word to +the poor. It’s a dangerous thing to break your word to the poor; +there’s God’s curse on them as do.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl seemed to shrink into herself. She looked up at the sky.</p> + +<p>“Lord Jesus wouldn’t curse a little girl like me, a little girl who +loves Him,” she thought; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>but, all the same, the old man’s words +seemed to chill her.</p> + +<p>“I’ll do my very best,” she said, and she went slowly across the +garden. Old Scott called after her:</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t disappoint the little lad if I was you, Missy. He’s +a-counting of the minutes.”</p> + +<p>A clock in the stable yard struck five. Old Scott continued to watch +Sibyl as she walked away.</p> + +<p>“I could take the apples,” he said to himself; “I could if I had a +mind to, but I don’t see why the quality shouldn’t keep their word, +and I’m due to speak at the Mission Hall this evening. Little Miss +should know afore she makes promises. She’s a rare fine little ’un, +though, for all that. I never see a straighter face, eyes that could +look through you. Dear little Missy! Dan thinks a precious sight of +her. I expect somehow she’ll take him the apples.”</p> + +<p>So old Scott went on murmuring to himself, sometimes breaking off to +sing a song, and Sibyl returned to the house.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<p>She walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the ground. She was thinking +harder than she had ever thought before in the whole course of her +short life. When she reached the parting of the ways which led in one +direction to the sunny, pretty front entrance, and in the other to the +stables, she paused again to consider.</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead was standing in the new schoolroom window. It was a +lovely room, furnished with just as much taste as Sibyl’s own bedroom. +Miss Winstead put her head out, and called the child.</p> + +<p>“Tea is ready, you had better come in. What are you doing there?”</p> + +<p>“Is your head any better?” asked Sibyl, a ghost of a hope stealing +into her voice.</p> + +<p>“No, I am sorry to say it is much worse. I am going to my room to lie +down. Nurse will give you your tea.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl did not make any answer. Miss Winstead, supposing that she was +going into the house, went to her own room. She locked her door, lay +down on her bed, and applied aromatic vinegar to her forehead.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p><p>Sibyl turned in the direction of the stables.</p> + +<p>“It don’t matter about my tea,” she said to herself. “Nursie will +think I am with Miss Winstead, and Miss Winstead will think I am with +nurse; it’s all right. I wonder if Ben would ride mother’s horse with +me; but the first thing is to get the apples.”</p> + +<p>The thought of what she was about to do, and how she would coax Ben, +the stable boy, to ride with her cheered her a little.</p> + +<p>“It’s awful to neglect the poor,” she said to herself. “Old Scott was +very solemn. He’s a good man, is Scott, he’s a very religious man, he +knows his Bible beautiful. He does everything by the Psalms; it’s +wonderful what he finds in them—the weather and everything else. I +asked him before the storm came yesterday if we was going to have +rain, and he said ‘Read your Psalms and you’ll know. Don’t the Psalms +for the day say “the Lord of glory thundereth”?’ and he looked at a +black cloud that was coming up in the sky, and sure enough we had a +big thunderstorm. It’s wonderful what a religious man is old Scott, +and what a lot he knows. He wouldn’t say a thing if it wasn’t true. I +suppose God does curse those who neglect the poor. I shouldn’t like to +be cursed, and I did promise, and Dan <i>will</i> be waiting and watching. +A little girl <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>whom Jesus loves ought to keep her promise. Well, +anyhow, I’ll get the apples ready.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl rushed into the house by a side entrance, secured a basket and +entered the orchard. There she made a careful and wise selection. She +filled the basket with the golden green fruit, and arranged it +artistically with apple-leaves.</p> + +<p>“This will tempt dear little Dan,” she said to herself. There were a +few greengages just beginning to come to perfection on a tree near. +Sibyl picked several to add to her pile of tempting fruit, and then +she went in the direction of the stables. Ben was nowhere about. She +called his name, he did not answer. He was generally to be found in +the yard at this hour. It was more than provoking.</p> + +<p>“Ben! Ben! Ben!” called the child. Her clear voice sounded through the +empty air. There came a gentle whinny in response.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my darling Nameless Pony!” she thought. She burst open the stable +door, and the next instant stood in the loose box beside the pony. The +creature knew her and loved her. He pushed out his head and begged for +a caress. Sibyl selected the smallest apple from the basket and gave +it to her pony. The nameless pony munched with right good will.</p> + +<p>“I could ride him alone,” thought Sibyl; “it is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>only two or three +miles away, and I know the road, and mother, though she may be angry +when she hears, will soon forgive me. Mother never keeps angry very +long—that is one of the beautiful things about her. I do really +think I will go by my lone self. I made a promise. Mother made a +promise too, but then she forgets. I really do think I’ll go. It’s too +awful to remember your promise to the poor, and then to break it. I +wonder if I could saddle pony? Pony, darling, will you stay very quiet +while I try to put your saddle on? I have seen Ben do it so often, and +one day I coaxed him to let me help him.”</p> + +<p>Just then a voice at the stable door said—</p> + +<p>“Hullo! I say!” and Sibyl, starting violently, turned her head and saw +a rough-headed lad of the name of Johnson, who sometimes assisted old +Scott in the garden. Sibyl was not very fond of Johnson. She took an +interest in him, of course, as she did in all human beings, but he was +not fascinating like little Dan Scott, and he had not a religious way +with him like old Scott; nevertheless, she was glad to see him now.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Johnson,” she said eagerly, “I want you to do something for me so +badly. If you will do it I will give you an apple.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, Miss?” asked Johnson.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p><p>“Will you saddle my pony for me? You can, can’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I guess I can,” answered Johnson. He spoke laconically.</p> + +<p>“Want to ride?” he said. “Who’s a-goin’ with yer?”</p> + +<p>“No one, I am going alone.”</p> + +<p>Johnson made no remark. He looked at the basket of apples.</p> + +<p>“I say,” he cried, “them’s good, I like apples.”</p> + +<p>“You shall have two, Johnson; oh, and I have a penny in my pocket as +well. Now please saddle the pony very fast, for I want to be off.”</p> + +<p>Johnson did not see anything remarkable in Sibyl’s intended ride. He +knew nothing about little Missy. As far as his knowledge went it was +quite the habit for little ladies to ride by themselves. Of course he +would get the pony ready for her, so he lifted down the pretty new +side-saddle from its place on the wall, and arranged it on the forest +pony’s back. The pony turned his large gentle eyes, and looked from +Johnson to the child.</p> + +<p>“It don’t matter about putting on my habit,” said Sibyl. “It will take +such a lot of time, I can go just as I am, can’t I, Johnson?”</p> + +<p>“If you like, Miss,” answered Johnson.</p> + +<p>“I think I will, really, Johnson,” said Sibyl in that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>confiding way +which fascinated all mankind, and made rough-headed Johnson her slave +for ever.</p> + +<p>“I might be caught, you know, if I went back to the house.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, is that it?” answered Johnson.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s it; they don’t understand. No one understands in the +house how ’portant it is for me to go. I have to take the apples to +Dan Scott. I promised, you know, and it would not be right to break my +promise, would it, Johnson?”</p> + +<p>Johnson scratched his head.</p> + +<p>“I guess not!” he said.</p> + +<p>“If I don’t take them, he’ll fret and fret,” said Sibyl; “and he’ll +never trust me again; and the curse of God is on them that neglect the +poor. Isn’t it so, Johnson? You understand, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“A bit, perhaps, Missy.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I am very much obliged to you,” said the little girl. “Here’s +two apples, real beauties, and here’s my new penny. Now, please lead +pony out, and help me to mount him.”</p> + +<p>Johnson did so. The hoofs of the forest pony clattered loudly on the +cobble stones of the yard. Johnson led the pony to the entrance of a +green lane which ran at the back of Silverbel. Here the little girl +mounted. She jumped lightly into her seat. She was like a feather on +the back of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>forest pony. Johnson arranged her skirts according to +her satisfaction, and, with her long legs dangling, her head erect, +and the reins in her hands, she started forward. The basket was +securely fastened; and the pony, well pleased at having a little +exercise, for he had been in his stable for nearly two days, started +off at a gentle canter.</p> + +<p>Sibyl soon left Silverbel behind her. She cantered down the pretty +country road, enjoying herself vastly.</p> + +<p>“I am so glad I did it,” she thought; “it was brave of me. I will tell +my ownest father when he comes back. I’ll tell him there was no one to +go with me, and I had to do it in order to keep my promise, and he’ll +understand. I’ll have to tell darling mother, too, to-night. She’ll be +angry, for mother thinks it is good for me to bear the yoke in my +youth, and she’ll be vexed with me for going alone, but I know she’ll +forgive me afterward. Perhaps she’ll say afterward, ‘I’m sorry I +forgot, but you did right, Sibyl, you did right.’ I am doing right, +aren’t I, Lord Jesus?” and again she raised her eyes, confident and +happy, to the evening sky.</p> + +<p>The heat of the day was going over; it was now long past six o’clock. +Presently she reached the small cottage where the sick boy lived. She +there reined in her pony, and called aloud:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p><p>“Are you in, Mrs. Scott?”</p> + +<p>A peevish-looking old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with a +large frill falling round her face, appeared in the rose-covered porch +of the tiny cottage.</p> + +<p>“Ah! it’s you, Missy, at last,” she said, and she trotted down as well +as her lameness would let her to the gate. “Has you brought the +apples?” she cried. “You are very late, Missy. Oh, I’m obligated, of +course, and I thank you heartily, Miss. Will you wait for the basket, +or shall I send it by Scott to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“You can send it to-morrow, please,” answered Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“And you ain’t a-coming in? The lad’s expecting you.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I cannot, not to-night. Mother wasn’t able to come with +me. Tell Dan that I brought him his apples, and I’ll come and see him +to-morrow if I possibly can. Tell him I won’t make him an out-and-out +promise, ’cos if you make a promise to the poor and don’t keep it, +Lord Jesus is angry, and you get cursed. I don’t quite know what +cursed means, do you, Mrs. Scott?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 314px;"> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" class="smallgap jpg" width="314" height="500" alt="An old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with a +large frill, appeared in the porch of the tiny cottage.—Page 224. +Daddy’s Girl." title="" /> +<span class="caption">An old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with a +large frill, appeared in the porch of the tiny cottage.—Page <a href="#Page_224">224</a>. +<i>Daddy’s Girl.</i></span> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, don’t I,” answered Mrs. Scott. “It’s a pity you can’t come in, +Missy. There, Danny, keep quiet; the little lady ain’t no time to be +a-visiting of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>you. That’s him calling out, Missy; you wait a minute, and I’ll find +out what he wants.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Scott hobbled back to the house, and the pony chafed restlessly +at the delay.</p> + +<p>“Quiet, darling; quiet, pet,” said Sibyl to her favorite, patting him +on his arched neck.</p> + +<p>Presently Mrs. Scott came back.</p> + +<p>“Dan’s obligated for the apples, Miss, but he thinks a sight more of a +talk with you than of any apples that ever growed. He ’opes you’ll +come another day.”</p> + +<p>“I wish, I do wish I could come in now,” said Sibyl wistfully; “but I +just daren’t. You see, I have not even my riding habit on, I was so +afraid someone would stop me from coming at all. Give Danny my love. +But you have not told me yet what a curse means, Mrs. Scott.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that,” answered Mrs. Scott, “but you ain’t no call to know.”</p> + +<p>“But I’d like to. I hate hearing things without understanding. What is +a curse, Mrs. Scott?”</p> + +<p>“There are all sorts,” replied Mrs. Scott. “Once I knowed a man, and +he had a curse on him, and he dwindled and dwindled, and got smaller +and thinner and poorer, until nothing would nourish him, no food nor +drink nor nothing, and he shrunk up ter’ble until he died. It’s my +belief he haunts the churchyard <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>now. No one likes to go there in the +evening. The name of the man was Micah Sorrel. He was the most ter’ble +example of a curse I ever comed acrost in my life.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I really must be going now,” said Sibyl with a little shiver. +“Good-by; tell Dan I’ll try hard to come and see him to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>She turned the pony’s head and cantered down the lane. She did not +consider Mrs. Scott a specially nice old woman.</p> + +<p>“She’s a gloomy sort,” thought the child, “she takes a gloomy view. I +like people who don’t take gloomy views best. Perhaps she is something +like old Scott; having lived with him so long as his wife, perhaps +they have got to think things the same way. Old Scott looked very +solemn when he said that it was a terrible thing to have the curse of +the poor. I wonder what Micah Sorrel did. I am sorry she told me about +him, I don’t like the story. But there, why should I blame Mrs. Scott, +for I asked her to ’splain what a curse was. I ’spect I’m a very queer +girl, and I didn’t really keep my whole word. I said positive and +plain that I would take a basket of apples to Dan, and go and sit with +him. I did take the apples, but I didn’t go in and sit with him. Oh, +dear, I’ll have to go back by the churchyard. I hope Micah Sorrel +won’t be about. I shouldn’t like to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>see him, he must be shrunk up so +awful by now. Come along, pony darling, we’ll soon be back home +again.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl lightly touched the pony’s ears with a tiny whip which Lord +Grayleigh had given her. He whisked his head indignantly at the motion +and broke into a trot, the trot became a canter, and the canter a +gallop.</p> + +<p>Sibyl laughed aloud in her enjoyment. They were now close to the +churchyard. The sun was getting near the horizon, but still there was +plenty of light.</p> + +<p>“A little faster, as we are passing the churchyard, pony pet,” said +Sybil, and she bent towards her steed and again touched him, nothing +more than a feather touch, on his arched neck. But pony was spirited, +and had endured too much stabling, and was panting for exercise; and, +just at that moment, turning abruptly round a corner came a man waving +a red flag. He was followed by a procession of school children, all +shouting and racing. The churchyard was in full view.</p> + +<p>Sibyl laughed with a sense of relief when she saw the procession. She +would not be alone as she passed the churchyard, and doubtless Micah +Sorrel would be all too wise to make his appearance, but the next +instant she gave a cry of alarm, for the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>pony first swerved +violently, and then rushed off at full gallop. The red flag had +startled him, and the children’s shouts were the final straw.</p> + +<p>“Not quite so fast, darling,” cried Sibyl; “a little slower, pet.”</p> + +<p>But pet and darling was past all remonstrances on the part of his +little mistress. He flew on, having clearly made up his mind to run +away from the red flag and the shouting children to the other end of +the earth. In vain Sibyl jerked the reins and pulled and pulled. Her +small face was white as death; her little arms seemed almost wrenched +from their sockets. She kept her seat bravely. Someone driving a +dog-cart was coming to meet her. A voice called—</p> + +<p>“Hullo! Stop, for goodness’ sake; don’t turn the corner. Stop! Stop!”</p> + +<p>Sibyl heard the voice. She looked wildly ahead. She had no more power +to stop the nameless pony than the earth has power to pause as it +turns on its axis. The next instant the corner was reached; all seemed +safe, when, with a sudden movement, the pony dashed madly forward, and +Sibyl felt herself falling, she did not know where. There was an +instant of intense and violent pain, stars shone before her eyes, and +then everything was lost in blessed unconsciousness.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<p>On a certain morning in the middle of July the <i>Gaika</i> with Ogilvie on +board entered the Brisbane River. He had risen early, as was his +custom, and was now standing on deck. The lascars were still busy +washing the deck. He went past them, and leaning over the taffrail +watched the banks of low-lying mangroves which grew on either side of +the river. The sun had just risen, and transformed the scene. Ogilvie +raised his hat, and pushed the hair from his brow. His face had +considerably altered, it looked worn and old. His physical health had +not improved, notwithstanding the supposed benefit of a long sea +voyage.</p> + +<p>A man whose friendship he had made on board, and whose name was +Harding, came up just then, and spoke to him.</p> + +<p>“Well, Ogilvie,” he cried, “we part very soon, but I trust we may meet +again. I shall be returning to England in about three months from now. +When do you propose to go back?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot quite tell,” answered Ogilvie. “It depends on how soon my +work is over; the sooner the better, as far as I am concerned.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p><p>“You don’t look too well,” said his friend. “Can I get anything for +you, fetch your letters, or anything of that sort?”</p> + +<p>“I do not expect letters,” was Ogilvie’s answer; “there may be one or +two cables. I shall find out at the hotel.”</p> + +<p>Harding said something further. Ogilvie replied in an abstracted +manner. He was thinking of Sibyl. It seemed to him that the little +figure was near him, and the little spirit strangely in touch with his +own. Of all people in the world she was the one he cared least to give +his thoughts to just at that moment.</p> + +<p>“And yet I am doing it for her,” he muttered to himself. “I must go +through with it; but while I am about it I want to forget her. My work +lies before me—that dastardly work which is to stain my character and +blemish my honor; but there is no going back now. Sibyl was unprovided +for, and I have an affection of the heart which may end my days at any +moment. For her sake I had no other course open to me. Now I shall not +allow my conscience to speak again.”</p> + +<p>He made an effort to pull himself together, and as the big liner +gradually neared the quay, he spoke in cheerful tones to his +fellow-passengers. Just as he passed down the gangway, and landed on +the quay, he heard a voice exclaim suddenly—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p><p>“Mr. Ogilvie, I believe?”</p> + +<p>He turned, and saw a small, dapper-looking man, in white drill and a +cabbage-tree hat, standing by his side.</p> + +<p>“That is my name,” replied Ogilvie; “and yours?”</p> + +<p>“I am Messrs. Spielmann’s agent, and my name is Rycroft. I had +instructions to meet you, and guessed who you were from the +description given to me. I hope you had a good voyage.”</p> + +<p>“Pretty well,” answered Ogilvie; “but I must get my luggage together. +Where are you staying?”</p> + +<p>“At the Waharoo Hotel. I took the liberty to book you a room. Shall we +go up soon and discuss business; we have no time to lose?”</p> + +<p>“As you please,” said Ogilvie. “Will you wait here? I will return +soon.”</p> + +<p>Within half an hour the two men were driving in the direction of the +hotel. Rycroft had engaged a bedroom and private sitting-room for +Ogilvie. He ordered lunch, and, after they had eaten, suggested that +they should plunge at once into business.</p> + +<p>“That is quite to my desire,” said Ogilvie. “I want to get what is +necessary through, in order to return home as soon as possible. It was +inconvenient my leaving England just now, but Lord Grayleigh made it a +condition that I should not delay an hour in examining the mine.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p><p>“If he wishes to take up this claim, he is right,” answered Rycroft, +in a grave voice. “I may as well say at once, Mr. Ogilvie, that your +coming out is the greatest possible relief to us all. The syndicate +ought to do well, and your name on the report is a guarantee of +success. My proposal is that we should discuss matters a little +to-day, and start early to-morrow by the <i>Townville</i> to Rockhampton. +We can then go by rail to Grant’s Creek Station, which is only eight +miles from the mine. There we can do our business, and finally return +here to draw up the report.”</p> + +<p>“And how long will all this take?” asked Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“If we are lucky, we ought to be back here within a month.”</p> + +<p>“You have been over the mine, of course, yourself, Mr. Rycroft?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I only returned to Brisbane a week ago.”</p> + +<p>“And what is your personal opinion?”</p> + +<p>“There is, beyond doubt, alluvial gold. It is a bit refractory, but +the washings panned out from five to six ounces to the ton.”</p> + +<p>“So I was told in England; but, about the vein underneath? Alluvial is +not dependable as a continuance. It is the vein we want to strike. +Have you bored?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, one shaft.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p><p>“Any result?”</p> + +<p>“That is what your opinion is needed to decide,” said his companion. +As Rycroft spoke, the corners of his mouth hardened, and he looked +fixedly at Ogilvie. He knew perfectly well why Ogilvie had come from +England to assay the mine, and this last question took him somewhat by +surprise.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie was silent. After a moment he jumped up impatiently.</p> + +<p>“I may as well inquire for any letters or cables that are waiting for +me,” he said.</p> + +<p>Rycroft lit his pipe and went out. He had never seen Philip Ogilvie +before, and was surprised at his general appearance, and also at his +manner.</p> + +<p>“Why did they send him out?” he muttered. “Sensitive, and with a +conscience: not the sort of man to care to do dirty work; but perhaps +Grayleigh was right. If I am not much mistaken, he will do it all the +same.”</p> + +<p>“I shall make my own pile out of this,” he thought. He returned to the +hotel later on, and the two men spent the evening in anxious +consultation. The next day they started for Rockhampton, and late in +the afternoon of the fourth day reached their destination.</p> + +<p>The mine lay in a valley which had once been the bed of some +prehistoric river, but was now reduced to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>a tiny creek. On either +side towered the twin Lombard peaks, from which the mine was to take +its name. For a mile on either side of the creek the country was +fairly open, being dotted with clumps of briggalow throwing their dark +shadows across the plain.</p> + +<p>Beyond them, where the slope became steep, the dense scrub began. This +clothed the two lofty peaks to their summits. The spot was a +beautiful one, and up to the present had been scarcely desecrated by +the hand of man.</p> + +<p>“Here we are,” said Rycroft, “here lies the gold.” He pointed to the +bed of the creek. “Here is our overseer’s hut, and he has engaged men +for our purpose. This is our hut, Ogilvie. I hope you don’t mind +sharing it with me.”</p> + +<p>“Not in the least,” replied Ogilvie. “We shall not begin operations +until the morning, shall we? I should like to walk up the creek.”</p> + +<p>Rycroft made a cheerful answer, and Ogilvie started off alone. He +scarcely knew why he wished to take this solitary walk, for he knew +well that the die was cast. When he had accepted Lord Grayleigh’s +check for ten thousand pounds he had burnt his boats, and there was no +going back.</p> + +<p>“Time enough for repentance in another world,” he muttered under his +breath. “All I have to do <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>at present is to stifle thought. It ought +not to be difficult to go forward,” he muttered, with a bitter smile, +“the downhill slope is never difficult.”</p> + +<p>The work of boring was to commence on the following morning, and the +camp was made close to the water hole beneath some tall gum trees. +Rycroft, who was well used to camping, prepared supper for the two. +The foreman’s camp was about a hundred yards distant.</p> + +<p>As Ogilvie lay down to sleep that night he had a brief, sharp attack +of the agony which had caused him alarm a couple of months ago. It +reminded him in forcible language that his own time on earth was in +all probability brief; but, far from feeling distressed on this +account, he hugged the knowledge to his heart that he had provided for +Sibyl, and that she at least would never want. During the night which +followed, however, he could not sleep. Spectre after spectre of his +past life rose up before him in the gloom. He saw now that ever since +his marriage the way had been paved for this final act of crime. The +extravagances which his wife had committed, and which he himself had +not put down with a firm hand, had led to further extravagances on his +part. They had lived from the first beyond their means. Money +difficulties had always dogged his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>footsteps, and now the only way +out was by a deed of sin which might ruin thousands.</p> + +<p>“But the child—the child!” he thought; something very like a sob rose +to his lips. Toward morning, however, he forced his thoughts into +other channels, drew his blanket tightly round him, and fell into a +long, deep sleep.</p> + +<p>When he awoke the foreman and his men were already busy. They began to +bore through the alluvial deposit in several directions, and Ogilvie +and Rycroft spent their entire time in directing these operations. It +would be over a fortnight’s work at least before Ogilvie could come to +any absolute decision as to the true value of the mine. Day after day +went quickly by, and the more often he inspected the ore submitted to +him the more certain was Ogilvie that the supposed rich veins were a +myth. He said little as he performed his daily task, and Rycroft +watched his face with anxiety.</p> + +<p>Rycroft was a hard-headed man, troubled by no qualms of conscience, +anxious to enrich himself, and rather pleased than otherwise at the +thought of fooling thousands of speculators in many parts of the +world. The only thing that caused him fear was the possibility that +when the instant came, Ogilvie would not take the final leap.</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless, I believe he will,” was Rycroft’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>final comment; “men +of his sort go down deeper and fall more desperately than +harder-headed fellows like myself. When a man has a conscience his +fall is worse, if he does fall, than if he had none. But why does a +man like Ogilvie undertake this sort of work? He must have a motive +hidden from any of us. Oh, he’ll tumble safe enough when the moment +comes, but if he doesn’t break his heart in that fall, I am much +mistaken in my man.”</p> + +<p>Four shafts had been cut and levels driven in many directions with +disappointing results. It was soon all too plain that the ores were +practically valueless, though the commencement of each lode looked +fairly promising.</p> + +<p>After a little over a fortnight’s hard work it was decided that it was +useless to proceed.</p> + +<p>“There is nothing more to be done, Mr. Ogilvie,” said Rycroft, as the +two men sat over their supper together. “For six months the alluvial +will yield about six ounces to the ton. After that”—he paused and +looked full at the grim, silent face of the man opposite him.</p> + +<p>“After that?” said Ogilvie. He compressed his lips the moment he +uttered the words.</p> + +<p>Rycroft jerked his thumb significantly over his left shoulder by way +of answer.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p><p>“You mean that we must see this butchery of the innocents through,” +said Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“I see no help for it,” replied Rycroft. “We will start back to +Brisbane to-morrow, and when we get there draw up the report; I had +better attend to that part of the business, of course under your +superintendence. We must both sign it. But first had we not better +cable to Grayleigh? He must have expected to hear from us before now. +He can lay our cable before the directors, and then things can be put +in train; the report can follow by the first mail.”</p> + +<p>“I shall take the report back with me,” said Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“Better not,” answered his companion, “best trust Her Majesty’s mails. +It might so happen that you would lose it.” As Rycroft spoke a crafty +look came into his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Let us pack our traps,” said Ogilvie, rising.</p> + +<p>“The sooner we get out of this the better.”</p> + +<p>The next morning early they left the solitude, the neighborhood of the +lofty peaks and the desecrated earth beneath. They reached Brisbane in +about four days, and put up once more at the Waharoo Hotel. There the +real business for which all this preparation had been made commenced. +Rycroft was a past master in drawing up reports of mines, and Ogilvie +now helped him with a will. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>found a strange pleasure in doing his +work as carefully as possible. He no longer suffered from qualms of +conscience. The mine would work really well for six months. During +that time the promoters would make their fortunes. Afterward—the +deluge. But that mattered very little to Ogilvie in his present state +of mind.</p> + +<p>“If I suffer as I have done lately from this troublesome heart of mine +I shall have gone to my account before six months,” thought the man; +“the child will be provided for, and no one will ever know.”</p> + +<p>The report was a plausible and highly colored one.</p> + +<p>It was lengthy in detail, and prophesied a brilliant future for +Lombard Deeps. Ogilvie and Rycroft, both assayers of knowledge and +experience, declared that they had carefully examined the lodes, that +they had struck four veins of rich ore yielding, after crushing, an +average of six ounces to the ton, and that the extent and richness of +the ore was practically unlimited.</p> + +<p>They spent several days over this document, and at last it was +finished.</p> + +<p>“I shall take the next mail home,” said Ogilvie, standing up after he +had read his own words for the twentieth time.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p><p>“Sign first,” replied Rycroft. He pushed the paper across to Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I shall go to-morrow morning,” continued Ogilvie. “The <i>Sahara</i> +sails to-morrow at noon?”</p> + +<p>“I believe so; but sign, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie took up his pen; he held it suspended as he looked again at +his companion.</p> + +<p>“I shall take a berth on board at once,” he said.</p> + +<p>“All right, old chap, but sign first.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie was about to put his signature to the bottom of the document, +when suddenly, without the least warning, a strange giddiness, +followed by intolerable pain, seized him. It passed off, leaving him +very faint. He raised his hand to his brow and looked around him in a +dazed way.</p> + +<p>“What is wrong,” asked Rycroft; “are you ill?”</p> + +<p>“I suffer from this sort of thing now and then,” replied Ogilvie, +bringing out his words in short gasps. “Brandy, please.”</p> + +<p>Rycroft sprang to a side table, poured out a glass of brandy, and +brought it to Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“You look ghastly,” he said; “drink.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie raised the stimulant to his lips. He took a few sips, and the +color returned to his face.</p> + +<p>“Now sign,” said Rycroft again.</p> + +<p>“Where is the pen?” asked Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>He was all too anxious now to take the fatal <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>plunge. His signature, +firm and bold, was put to the document. He pushed it from him and +stood up. Rycroft hastily added his beneath that of Ogilvie’s.</p> + +<p>“Now our work is done,” cried Rycroft, “and Her Majesty’s mail does +the rest. By the way, I cabled a brilliant report an hour back. +Grayleigh seemed anxious. There have been ominous reports in some of +the London papers.”</p> + +<p>“This will set matters right,” said Ogilvie. “Put it in an envelope. +If I sail to-morrow, I may as well take it myself.”</p> + +<p>“Her Majesty’s mail would be best,” answered Rycroft. “You can see +Grayleigh almost as soon as he gets the report. Remember, I am +responsible for it as well as you, and it would be best for it to go +in the ordinary way.” As he spoke, he stretched out his hand, took the +document and folded it up.</p> + +<p>Just at this moment there came a tap at the door. Rycroft cried, “Come +in,” and a messenger entered with a cablegram.</p> + +<p>“For Mr. Ogilvie,” he said.</p> + +<p>“From Grayleigh, of course,” said Rycroft, “how impatient he gets! +Wait outside,” he continued to the messenger.</p> + +<p>The man withdrew, and Ogilvie slowly opened the telegram. Rycroft +watched him as he read. He read slowly, and with no apparent change of +feature. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>The message was short, but when his eyes had travelled to +the end, he read from the beginning right through again. Then, without +the slightest warning, and without even uttering a groan, the flimsy +paper fluttered from his hand, he tumbled forward, and lay in an +unconscious heap on the floor.</p> + +<p>Rycroft ran to him. He took a certain interest in Ogilvie, but above +all things on earth at that moment he wanted to get the document which +contained the false report safely into the post. Before he attempted +to restore the stricken man, he took up the cablegram and read the +contents. It ran as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>“Sibyl has had bad fall from pony. Case hopeless. Come home +at once.”</i></p></div> + +<p>“So Sibyl, whoever Sibyl may be, is at the bottom of Ogilvie’s fall,” +thought Rycroft. “Poor chap! he has got a fearful shock. Best make all +safe. I must see things through.”</p> + +<p>Without an instant’s hesitation Rycroft took the already signed +document, thrust it into an envelope, directed it in full and stamped +it. Then he went to the telegraph messenger who was still waiting +outside.</p> + +<p>“No answer to the cable, but take this at once to the post-office and +register it,” he said; “here is money—you can keep the change.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p><p>The man departed on his errand, carrying the signed document.</p> + +<p>Rycroft now bent over Ogilvie. There was a slightly blue tinge round +his lips, but the rest of his face was white and drawn.</p> + +<p>“Looks like death,” muttered Rycroft. He unfastened Ogilvie’s collar +and thrust his hand beneath his shirt. He felt the faint, very faint +beat of the heart.</p> + +<p>“Still living,” he murmured, with a sigh of relief. He applied the +usual restoratives. In a few moments Ogilvie opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>“What has happened?” he said, looking round him in a dazed way. “Oh, I +remember, I had a message from London.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, old fellow, don’t speak for a moment.”</p> + +<p>“I must get back at once; the <span style="white-space: nowrap;">child——”</span></p> + +<p>“All right, you shall go in the <i>Sahara</i> to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“But the document,” said Ogilvie, “it—isn’t needed; I want it back.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t trouble about it now.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie staggered to his feet.</p> + +<p>“You don’t understand. I did it because—because of one who will not +need it. I want it back.”</p> + +<p>“Too late,” said Rycroft, then. “That document is already in the post. +Come, you must pull yourself together for the sake of Sibyl, whoever +she is.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<p>There was a pretty white room at Silverbel in which lay a patient +child. She lay flat on her back just as she had lain ever since the +accident. Her bed was moved into the wide bay window, and from there +she could look out at the lovely garden and at the shining Thames just +beyond. From where she lay she could also see the pleasure boats and +the steamers crowded with people as they went up and down the busy +river, and it seemed to her that her thoughts followed those boats +which went toward the sea. It seemed to her further that her spirit +entered one of the great ships at the mouth of the Thames and crossed +in it the boundless deep, and found a lonely man at the other side of +the world into whose heart she crept.</p> + +<p>“I am quite cosy there,” she said to herself, “for father’s perfect +heart is big enough to hold me, however much I suffer, and however sad +I am.”</p> + +<p>Not that Sibyl was sad, nor did she suffer. After the first shock she +had no pain of any sort, and there never was a more tranquil little +face than hers as it lay on its daintily frilled pillow and looked out +at the shining river.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p><p>There was no part of the beautiful house half so beautiful as the room +given up to her use. It might well and aptly be called the Chamber of +Peace. Indeed, Miss Winstead, who was given to sentimentalities and +had a poetic turn of mind, had called Sibyl’s chamber by this title.</p> + +<p>From the very first the child never murmured. She who had been so +active, like a butterfly in her dancing motion, in her ceaseless +grace, lay on her couch uncomplaining. And as to pain, she had +scarcely any, and what little she had grew less day by day. The great +specialist from London said that this was the worst symptom of the +case, and established the fact beyond doubt that the spine was fatally +injured. It was a question of time. How long a time no one could quite +tell, but the great doctors shook their heads over the child, and an +urgent cablegram was sent to Ogilvie to hurry home without a moment’s +delay.</p> + +<p>But, though all her friends knew it, no one told Sibyl herself that +she might never walk again nor dance over the smoothly kept lawns, nor +mount the nameless pony, nor carry apples to Dan Scott. In her +presence people thought it their duty to be cheerful, and she was +always cheerful herself. After the first week or so, during which she +was more or less stunned and her head felt strangely heavy, she liked +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>to talk and laugh and ask questions. As far as her active little +brain went there was but little difference in her, except that now her +voice was low, and sometimes it was difficult to follow the rapid, +eager words. But the child’s eyes were quite as clear and beautiful as +ever, and more than ever now there visited them that strange, far-away +look and that quick, comprehending gaze.</p> + +<p>“I want nothing on earth but father, the touch of father’s hand and +the look in his face,” she said several times; and then invariably her +own eyes would follow the steamers and the boats as they went down the +river toward the sea, and she would smile as the remembrance of the +big ships came to her.</p> + +<p>“Miss Winstead,” she said on one of these occasions, “I go in my own +special big ship every night across the sea to father. I sleep in +father’s heart every night, that’s why I don’t disturb you, and why +the hours seem so short.”</p> + +<p>Miss Winstead had long ceased to scold Sibyl, and nurse was now never +cross to the little girl, and Mrs. Ogilvie was to all appearance the +most tender, devoted mother on earth. When the child had been brought +back after her accident Mrs. Ogilvie had not yet returned from town. +She had meant to spend the night at the house in Belgrave Square. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>An +urgent message, however, summoned her, and she arrived at Silverbel +about midnight. She lost all self-control when she saw the beautiful +unconscious child, and went into such violent hysterics that the +doctors had to take her from the room.</p> + +<p>But this state of grief passed, and she was able, as she said to +herself, to crush her mother’s heart in her breast and superintend +everything for Sibyl’s comfort. It was Mrs. Ogilvie herself who, by +the doctor’s orders, sent off the cablegram which her husband received +at the very moment of his fall from the paths of honor. It was she who +worded it, and she thought of nothing at that moment but the child who +was dying in the beautiful house. For the time she quite forgot her +dreams of wealth and of greatness and of worldly pleasure. Nay, more, +she felt just then that she could give up everything if only Sibyl +might be saved. Mrs. Ogilvie also blamed herself very bitterly for +forgetting her promise to the child. She was indeed quite inconsolable +for several days, and at last had a nervous attack and was obliged to +retire to her bed.</p> + +<p>There came an answering cable from Ogilvie to say that he was starting +on board the <i>Sahara</i>, and would be in England as quickly as the great +liner could bring him across the ocean. But by the doctor’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span>orders +the news that her father was coming back to her was not told to Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Something may detain him; at any rate the suspense will be bad for +her,” the doctors said, and as she did not fret, and seemed quite +contented with the strange fancy that she crossed the sea at night to +lie in his arms, there was no need to give her any anxiety with regard +to the matter.</p> + +<p>But as the days went on Mrs. Ogilvie’s feelings, gradually but surely, +underwent a sort of revulsion. For the first week she was frantic, +ill, nervous, full of intense self-reproach. But during the second +week, when Sibyl’s state of health assumed a new phase, when she +ceased to moan in her sleep, and to look troubled, and only lay very +still and white, Mrs. Ogilvie took it into her head that after all the +doctors had exaggerated the symptoms. The child was by no means so ill +as they said. She went round to her different friends and aired these +views. When they came to see her she aired them still further.</p> + +<p>“Doctors are so often mistaken,” she said, “I don’t believe for a +single instant that the dear little thing will not be quite as well as +ever in a short time. I should not be the least surprised if she were +able to walk by the time Philip comes back. I do sincerely hope such +will be the case, for Philip makes such a ridiculous fuss about her, +and will go through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>all the apprehension and misery which nearly +wrecked my mother’s heart. He will believe everything those doctors +have said of the child.”</p> + +<p>The neighbors, glad to see Mrs. Ogilvie cheerful once more, rather +agreed with her in these views, that is, all who did not go to see +Sibyl. But those who went into her white room and looked at the sweet +patient’s face shook their heads when they came out again. It was +those neighbors who had not seen the child who quoted instances of +doctors who were mistaken in their diagnoses, and Mrs. Ogilvie derived +great pleasure and hope from their conversation.</p> + +<p>Gradually, but surely, the household settled down into its new life. +The Chamber of Peace in the midst of the house diffused a peaceful +atmosphere everywhere else. Sibyl’s weak little laugh was a sound to +treasure up and remember, and her words were still full of fun, and +her eyes often brimmed over with laughter. No one ever denied her +anything now. She could see whoever she fancied, even to old Scott, +who hobbled upstairs in his stockings, and came on tiptoe into the +room, and stood silently at the foot of the white bed.</p> + +<p>“I won’t have the curse of the poor, I did my best,” said Sibyl, +looking full at the old man.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you did your best, dearie,” he replied. His <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>voice was husky, +and he turned his head aside and looked out of the window and coughed +in a discreet manner. He was shocked at the change in the radiant +little face, but he would not allow his emotion to get the better of +him.</p> + +<p>“The blessing of the poor rests on you, dear little Miss,” he said +then, “the blessing of the poor and the fatherless. It was a +fatherless lad you tried to comfort. God bless you for ever and ever.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl smiled when he said this, and then she gazed full at him in that +solemn comprehending way which often characterized her. When he went +out of the room she lay silent for a time; then she turned to nurse +and said with emphasis:</p> + +<p>“I like old Scott, he’s a very religious man.”</p> + +<p>“That he is, darling,” replied nurse.</p> + +<p>“Seems to me I’m getting religious too,” continued Sibyl. “It’s ’cos +of Lord Jesus, I ’spect. He is kind to me, is Lord Jesus. He takes me +to father every night.”</p> + +<p>The days went by, and Mrs. Ogilvie, who was recovering her normal +spirits hour by hour, now made up her mind that Sibyl’s recovery was +merely a question of time, that she would soon be as well as ever, and +as this was the case, surely it seemed a sad pity that the bazaar, +which had been postponed, should not take place.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p><p>“The bazaar will amuse the child, besides doing a great deal of good +to others,” thought Mrs. Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>No sooner had this idea come to her, than she found her +engagement-book, and looked up several items. The bazaar had of course +been postponed from the original date, but it would be easy to have it +on the 24th of September. The 24th was in all respects a suitable +date, and those people who had not gone abroad or to Scotland would be +glad to spend a week in the beautiful country house. It was such a sad +pity, thought Mrs. Ogilvie, not to use the new furniture to the best +advantage, not to sleep in the new beds, not to make use of all the +accessories which had cost so much money, or rather which had cost so +many debts, for not a scrap of the furniture was paid for, and the +house itself was only held on sufferance.</p> + +<p>“It will be doing such a good work,” said Mrs. Ogilvie to herself. “I +shall be not only entertaining my friends and amusing dear little +Sibyl, but I shall be collecting money for an excellent charity.”</p> + +<p>In the highest spirits she ran upstairs and burst into her little +daughter’s room.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mummy,” said Sibyl. She smiled and said faintly, “Come and kiss +me, Mummy.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie was all in white and looked very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>young and girlish and +pretty. She tripped up to the child, bent over her and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“My little white rose,” she said, “you must get some color back into +your cheeks.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, color don’t matter,” replied Sibyl. “I’m just as happy without +it.”</p> + +<p>“But you are quite out of pain, my little darling?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mummy.”</p> + +<p>“And you like lying here in your pretty window?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, mother darling.”</p> + +<p>“You are not weary of lying so still?”</p> + +<p>Sibyl laughed.</p> + +<p>“It is funny,” she said, “I never thought I could lie so very still. I +used to get a fidgety sort of pain all down me if I stayed still more +than a minute at a time, but now I don’t want to walk. My legs are too +heavy. I feel heavy all down my legs and up to the middle of my back, +but that is all. See, Mummy, how nicely I can move my hands. Nursie is +going to give me some dolls to dress.”</p> + +<p>“What a splendid idea, Sib!” said Mrs. Ogilvie, “you shall dress some +dolls for mother’s bazaar.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to have it after all?” cried Sibyl, her eyes +brightening. “Are the big-wigs coming?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, pet, and you shall help me. You shall dress pretty little dolls +which the big-wigs shall buy—Lord Grayleigh and the rest.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p><p>“I like Lord Grayleigh,” replied Sibyl. “I am glad you are going to +have the bazaar, Mummy.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie laughed with glee. She seated herself in a comfortable +rocking chair near the window and chatted volubly. Sibyl was really a +wonderfully intelligent child. It was delightful to talk to her. There +was no narrowness about Sibyl. She had quite a breadth of view and of +comprehension for her tender years.</p> + +<p>“My dear little girl,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, “I am so glad you like the +idea. Perhaps by the day of the bazaar you will be well enough to come +downstairs and even to walk a little.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl made no answer to this. After a moment’s pause she said:</p> + +<p>“Do have the bazaar and let all the big-wigs come. I can watch them +from my bed. I can look out of the window and see everything—it will +be fun.”</p> + +<p>Soon afterward Mrs. Ogilvie left the room. She met Miss Winstead on +the stairs.</p> + +<p>“Miss Winstead,” she said, “I have just been sitting with the child. +She seems much better.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?” replied Miss Winstead shortly.</p> + +<p>“I do. Why do you stare at me in that disapproving manner? You really +are all most unnatural. Who should know of the health of her child if +her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>own mother does not? The little darling is recovering fast—I +have just been having a most interesting talk with her. She would like +me to have the bazaar.”</p> + +<p>“The bazaar!” echoed Miss Winstead. “Surely you don’t mean to have it +here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, here. The child is greatly interested. She would like me to have +it, and I am going to send out invitations at once. It will be held on +the 24th and 25th of the month.”</p> + +<p>“I would not, if I were you,” said Miss Winstead slowly. “You know +what the doctors have said.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie first turned white, and then her face grew red and angry.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe a single word of what they say,” she retorted with +some passion. “The child looks better every day. What the dear little +thing wants is rousing. The bazaar will do her no end of good. Mark my +words, Miss Winstead, we shall have Sibyl on her feet again by the +24th.”</p> + +<p>“You forget,” said Miss Winstead slowly, “the <i>Sahara</i> is due in +England about that date. Mr. Ogilvie will be back. He will not be +prepared for—for what he has to see.”</p> + +<p>“I know quite well that my husband will return about then, but I don’t +understand what you mean <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>by saying that he will not be prepared. +There will be nothing but joyful tidings to give him. The child nearly +herself and the bazaar at its height. Delightful! Now pray, my good +creature, don’t croak any more; I must rush up to town this +afternoon—there is a great deal to see about.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh was so anxious about the Syndicate that he would not go +to Scotland for the shooting as usual. Later on he would attend to his +pleasures, but not now. Later on when Ogilvie had returned, and the +company was finally floated, and the shares taken up, he would relax +his efforts, but just at present he was engaged over the biggest thing +of his life. He was cheerful, however, and full of hope. He even +thanked Providence for having aided all his exertions. So blinded was +he by the glare of avarice and the desire for adding wealth to wealth +that Ogilvie’s cablegram set every anxiety at rest. He even believed +that the mine was as full of gold as the cablegram seemed to indicate. +Yes, everything was going well. The Lombard Deeps Company would be +floated in a short time, the Board of Directors was complete.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie’s cablegram was shown to a few of the longest-headed men in +the financial world, and his report was anxiously looked for. Rumors +carefully worded got by degrees into the public press, the ominous +whispers were absolutely silenced: all, in short, was ripe for action. +Nothing definite, however, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>could be done until the full report of the +mine arrived.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh was fond of saying to himself: “From the tone of +Ogilvie’s cablegram the mine must be all that we desire, the ore rich, +the veins good, the extent of the wealth unlimited. It will be nice,” +Lord Grayleigh reflected, “to be rich and also honest at the same +time.” He was a man with many kindly impulses, but he had never been +much troubled by the voice of conscience. So he went backward and +forward to his lovely home in the country, and played with his +children, and enjoyed life generally.</p> + +<p>On a certain day in the first week of September he received a letter +from Mrs. Ogilvie; it ran as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">My Dear Lord Grayleigh</span>,</p> + +<p>“You have not, I hope, forgotten your promise to be, as +Sibyl said, one of the big-wigs at my bazaar.”</p></div> + +<p>“But I <i>had</i> forgotten it,” muttered Grayleigh to himself. “That woman +is, in my opinion, a poor, vain, frivolous creature. Why did she +hamper Ogilvie with that place in his absence? Now, forsooth, she must +play at charity. When that sort of woman does that sort of thing she +is contemptible.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p><p>He lowered his eyes again, and went on reading the letter.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“I was obliged to postpone the original date,” continued his +correspondent, “but I have quite fixed now that the bazaar +shall be held at our new lovely place on the 24th. You, I +know, will not disappoint me. You will be sure to be +present. I hope to clear a large sum for the Home for +Incurables at Watleigh. Have you heard how badly that poor +dear charity needs funds just now? If you hesitate for a +moment to come and help, just cast a thought on the poor +sufferers there, the children, who will never know the +blessing of strength again. Think what it is to lighten the +burden of their last days, and do not hesitate to lend your +hand to so worthy a work. I have advertised you in the +papers as our principal supporter and patron, and the sooner +we see you at Silverbel the better.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 15em;">“With kind regards, I remain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">“Yours sincerely,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 19em;">“<span class="smcap">Mildred Ogilvie</span>.</span></p> + +<p>“P.S.—By the way, have you heard that our dear little Sibyl +has met with rather a nasty accident? She fell off that pony +you gave her. I must be frank, Lord Grayleigh, and say that +I never did approve of the child’s riding, particularly in +her father’s <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>absence. She had a very bad tumble, and hurt +her back, and has since been confined to her couch. I have +had the best advice, and the doctors have been very silly +and gloomy in their reports. Now, for my part, I have not +the slightest faith in doctors, they are just as often +proved wrong as right. The child is getting much better, but +she is still, of course, confined to her bed. She would send +you her love if she knew I was writing.”</p></div> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh let this letter drop on to the table beside him. He sat +quite still for a moment, then he lit a cigarette and began to pace +the room. After a pause he took up Mrs. Ogilvie’s letter and re-read +the postscript.</p> + +<p>After having read it a second time he rang his bell sharply. A servant +appeared.</p> + +<p>“I am going to town by the next train; have the trap round,” was +Grayleigh’s direction.</p> + +<p>He did go to town by the next train, his children seeing him off.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going, father?” called out Freda. “You promised you +would take us for a long, long drive this afternoon. Oh, this is +disappointing. Are you coming back at all to-night?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think so, Freda. By the way, have you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>heard that your little +friend Sibyl has met with an accident?”</p> + +<p>“Has she?” replied Freda. “I am very sorry. I like Sibyl very much.”</p> + +<p>“So do I!” said Gus, coming up, “she’s the best sort of girl I ever +came across, not like an ordinary girl—quite plucky, you know. What +sort of accident did she have, father?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know; I am going to see. I am afraid it has something to do +with the pony I gave her. Well, good-by, youngsters; if I don’t return +by the last train to-night, I’ll be back early to-morrow, and we can +have our drive then.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh drove at once to Victoria Station, and took the next +train to Richmond. It was a two-mile drive from there to Silverbel. He +arrived at Silverbel between five and six in the afternoon. Mrs. +Ogilvie was pacing about her garden, talking to two ladies who had +come to call on her. When she saw Lord Grayleigh driving up the +avenue, she uttered a cry of delight, apologized to her friends, and +ran to meet him—both her hands extended.</p> + +<p>“How good of you, how more than good of you,” she said. “This is just +what I might have expected from you, Lord Grayleigh. You received my +letter and you have come to answer it in person.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p><p>“I have come, as you say, to answer it in person. How is Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, better. I mean she is about the same, but she really is going on +very nicely. She does not suffer the slightest pain, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">and——”</span></p> + +<p>“Can I see her?”</p> + +<p>“Of course you can. I will take you to her. Dear little thing, she +will be quite delighted, you are a prime favorite of hers. But first, +what about the bazaar? Ah, naughty man! you need not think you are +going to get out of it, for you are, as Sibyl says, one of the +big-wigs. We cannot do without big-wigs at our bazaar.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mrs. Ogilvie, I will come if I can. I cannot distinctly promise +at the present moment, for I may possibly have to go to Scotland; but +the chances are that I shall be at Grayleigh Manor, and if so I can +come.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie was walking with Lord Grayleigh down one of the corridors +which led to the Chamber of Peace while this conversation was going +on. As he uttered the last words she flung open the door.</p> + +<p>“One of the big-wigs, Sibyl, come to see you,” she said, in a playful +voice.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh saw a white little face with very blue eyes turned +eagerly in his direction. He did not know why, but as he looked at the +child something <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>clutched at his heart with a strange fear. He turned +to Mrs. Ogilvie and said,</p> + +<p>“Rest assured that I will come.” He then went over, bent toward Sibyl +and took her little white hand.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to see you like this,” he said. “What has happened to you, +my little girl?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing much,” answered Sibyl, “I just had a fall, but I am quite +all right now and I am awfully happy. Did you really come to see me? +It is good of you. May I talk to Lord Grayleigh all by myself, mother +darling?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, dear. Lord Grayleigh, you cannot imagine how we spoil this +little woman now that she is lying on her back. I suppose it is +because she is so good and patient. She never murmurs, and she enjoys +herself vastly. Is not this a pretty room?”</p> + +<p>“Beautiful,” replied Lord Grayleigh, in an abstracted tone. He sank +into a chair near the window, and glanced out at the smoothly kept +lawn, at the flower-beds with their gay colors, and at the silver +Thames flowing rapidly by. Then he looked again at the child. The +child’s grave eyes were fixed on his face; there was a faint smile +round the lips but the eyes were very solemn.</p> + +<p>“I will come back again, presently,” said Mrs. Ogilvie. “By the way, +Sib darling, Lord Grayleigh <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>is coming to our bazaar, the bazaar for +which you are dressing dolls.”</p> + +<p>“Nursie is dressing them,” replied Sibyl in a weak voice—the mother +did not notice how weak it was, but Lord Grayleigh did. “It somehow +tires me to work. I ’spect I’m not very strong, but I’ll be better +perhaps to-morrow. Nursie is dressing them, and they are quite +beautiful.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll come back soon; you mustn’t tire her, Lord Grayleigh, and +you and I have a great deal to talk over when you do come downstairs.”</p> + +<p>“I must return to town by the next train,” said Lord Grayleigh; but +Mrs. Ogilvie did not hear him. She went quickly away to join the +friends who were waiting for her in the sunny garden.</p> + +<p>“Lord Grayleigh has come,” she said. “He is quite devoted to Sibyl; he +is sitting with her for a few minutes; the child worships him. +Afterward he and I must have a rather business-like conversation.”</p> + +<p>“Then we will go, dear Mrs. Ogilvie,” said both ladies.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, dear friends; I hope you don’t think I am sending you +away, but it is always my custom to speak plainly. Lord Grayleigh will +be our principal patron at the bazaar, and naturally I have much to +consult him about. I will drive over to-morrow <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>to see you, Mrs. Le +Strange, and we can discuss still further the sort of stall you will +have.”</p> + +<p>The ladies took their leave, and Mrs. Ogilvie paced up and down in +front of the house. She was restless, and presently a slight sense of +disappointment stole over her, for Lord Grayleigh was staying an +unconscionably long time in Sibyl’s room.</p> + +<p>Sibyl and he were having what he said afterward was quite a straight +talk.</p> + +<p>“I am so glad you have come,” said the little girl; “there are some +things you can tell me that no one else can. Have you heard from +father lately?”</p> + +<p>“I had a cablegram from him not long ago.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?”</p> + +<p>“The same as a telegram; a cablegram is a message that comes across +the sea.”</p> + +<p>“I understand,” said Sibyl. She thought of her pretty fancy of the +phantom ships that took her night after night to the breast of her +father.</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking about?” said Lord Grayleigh.</p> + +<p>“Oh, about father, of course. When he sent you that message did he +tell you there was much gold in the mine?”</p> + +<p>“My dear child,” said Lord Grayleigh, “what do you know about it?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p><p>“I know all about it,” answered Sybil. “I am deeply interested, +deeply.”</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear little girl, to judge from your father’s message, the +mine is full of gold, quite full.”</p> + +<p>“Up to the tip top?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you can express it in that way if you like, up to the tip top +and down, nobody knows how deep, full of beautiful yellow gold, but +don’t let us talk of these things any more. Tell me how you really +fell, and what that naughty pony did to you.”</p> + +<p>“You must not scold my darling nameless pony, it was not his fault a +bit,” said Sibyl. She turned first red and then whiter than usual.</p> + +<p>“Do you greatly mind if I <i>don’t</i> talk about it?” she asked in a voice +of sweet apology. “It makes me <span style="white-space: nowrap;">feel——”</span></p> + +<p>“How, dear?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, only I get the up and down and round and round feel. It +was the feel I had when pony sprang; he seemed to spring into the air, +and I fell and fell and fell. I don’t like to get the feel back, it is +so very round and round, you know.”</p> + +<p>“We won’t talk of it,” said Lord Grayleigh; “what shall I do to amuse +you?”</p> + +<p>“Tell me more about father and the mine full of gold.”</p> + +<p>“I have only just had the one cablegram, Sib, in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>which he merely +stated that the news with regard to the mine was good.”</p> + +<p>“I am delighted,” said Sibyl. “It’s awfully good of Lord Jesus. Do you +know that I have been asking Lord Jesus to pile up the gold in the +mine. He can do anything, you know, and He has done it, you see. Isn’t +it sweet and dear of Him? Oh, you don’t know all He has done for me! +Don’t you love Him very much indeed, Lord Grayleigh?”</p> + +<p>“Who, Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“My Lord Jesus Christ, my beautiful Lord Jesus Christ.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh bent and picked up a book which had fallen on the +carpet. He turned the conversation. The child’s eyes, very grave and +very blue, watched him. She did not say anything further, but she +seemed to read the thought he wished to hide. He stood up, then he sat +down again. Sibyl had that innate tact which is born in some natures, +and always knew where to pause in her probings and questionings.</p> + +<p>“Now,” she continued, after a pause, “dear Mr. and Mrs. Holman will be +rich.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. and Mrs. Holman,” said Lord Grayleigh; “who are they?”</p> + +<p>“They are my very own most special friends. They keep a toy-shop in +Greek Street, a back street <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span>near our house. Mrs. Holman is going to +buy a lot of gold out of the mine. I’ll send her a letter to tell her +that she can buy it quick. You’ll be sure to keep some of the gold for +Mrs. Holman, she is a dear old woman. You’ll be quite sure to remember +her?”</p> + +<p>“Quite sure, Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“Hadn’t you better make a note of it? Father always makes notes when +he wants to remember things. Have you got a note-book?”</p> + +<p>“In my pocket.”</p> + +<p>“Please take it out and put down about Mrs. Holman and the gold out of +the mine.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh produced a small note-book.</p> + +<p>“What do you wish me to say?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“Put it this way,” said Sibyl eagerly, “then you won’t forget. Some of +the gold in <span style="white-space: nowrap;">the——”</span></p> + +<p>“Lombard Deeps Mine,” supplied Lord Grayleigh.</p> + +<p>“Some of the gold in the Lombard Deeps Mine,” repeated Sibyl, “to be +kept special for dear Mr. and Mrs. Holman. Did you put that? Did you +put <i>dear</i> Mr. and Mrs. Holman?”</p> + +<p>“Just exactly as you have worded it, Sibyl.”</p> + +<p>“Her address is number ten, Greek Street, Pimlico.”</p> + +<p>The address being further added, Sibyl gave a sigh of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“That is nice,” she said, “that will make them <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span>happy. Mrs. Holman has +cried so often because of the dusty toys, and ’cos the children won’t +come to her shop to buy. Some children are very mean; I don’t like +some children a bit.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad you’re pleased about the Holmans, little woman.”</p> + +<p>“Of course I am, and aren’t you. Don’t you like to make people happy?”</p> + +<p>Again Lord Grayleigh moved restlessly.</p> + +<p>“Have you any other notes for this book?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Of course I have. There’s the one who wants to marry the other one. +I’m under a vow not to mention names, but they want to marry <i>so</i> +badly, and they will in double quick time if there’s gold in the mine. +Will you put in your note-book ‘Gold to be kept for the one who wants +to marry the other,’ will you, Lord Grayleigh?”</p> + +<p>“I have entered it,” said Lord Grayleigh, suppressing a smile.</p> + +<p>“And mother, of course,” continued Sibyl, “wants lots of money, and +there’s my nurse, her eyes are failing, she would like enough gold to +keep her from mending stockings or doing any more fine darning, and +I’d like Watson to have some. Do you know, Lord Grayleigh, that Watson +is engaged to be married? He is really, truly.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p><p>“I am afraid, Sibyl, I do not know who Watson is.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you? How funny; he is our footman. I’m awfully fond of him. He +is full of the best impulses, is Watson, and he is engaged to a very +nice girl in the cookery line. Don’t you think it’s very sensible of +Watson to engage himself to a girl in the cookery line?”</p> + +<p>“I think it is thoroughly sensible, but now I must really go.”</p> + +<p>“But you won’t forget all the messages? You have put them all down in +your note-book. You won’t forget any of the people who want gold out +of the Lombard Deeps?”</p> + +<p>“No, I’ll be certain to remember every single one of them.”</p> + +<p>“Then that’s all right, and you’ll come to darling mother’s bazaar?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>“I am so glad. You do make me happy. I like big-wigs awfully.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<p>A few days before the bazaar Lady Helen Douglas arrived at Silverbel. +She had returned from Scotland on purpose. A letter from Lord +Grayleigh induced her to do so. He wrote to Lady Helen immediately +after seeing Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like the child’s look,” he wrote; “I have not the least idea +what the doctors have said of her, but when I spoke on the subject to +her mother, she shirked it. There is not the least doubt that Mrs. +Ogilvie can never see a quarter of an inch beyond her own selfish +fancies. It strikes me very forcibly that the child is in a precarious +state. I can never forgive myself, for she met with the accident on +the pony I gave her. She likes you; go to her if you can.”</p> + +<p>It so happened that by the very same post there had come an urgent +appeal from Mrs. Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“If you cannot come to the bazaar,” she wrote to Lady Helen, “it will +be a failure. Come you must. Your presence is essential, because you +are pretty and well born, and you will also act as a lure to another +person who can help me in various ways. I, of course, allude to our +mutual friend, Jim Rochester.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p><p>Now Lady Helen, even with the attraction of seeing Mr. Rochester so +soon again, would not have put off a series of visits which she was +about to make, had not Lord Grayleigh’s letter decided her. She +therefore arrived at Silverbel on the 22d of September, and was +quickly conducted to Sibyl’s room. She had not seen Sibyl for a couple +of months. When last they had met, the child had been radiant with +health and spirits. She was radiant still, but that quick impulsive +life had been toned down to utter quiet. The lower part of the little +body was paralyzed, the paralysis was creeping gradually up and up. It +was but a question of time for the loving little heart to be still for +ever.</p> + +<p>Sibyl cried with delight when she saw Lady Helen.</p> + +<p>“Such a lot of big-wigs are coming to-morrow,” she said, “but Lord +Grayleigh does not come until the day of the bazaar, so you are quite +the first. You’ll come and see me very, very often, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I will, Sibyl. The fact is I have come on purpose to see +you. I should not have come to the bazaar but for you. Lord Grayleigh +wrote to me and said you were not well, and he thought you loved me, +little Sib, and that it would cheer you up to see me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, you are sweet,” answered the child, “and I do, indeed I do love +you. But you ought to have come for the bazaar as well as for me. It +is darling mother’s splendid work of charity. She wants to help a lot +of little sick children and sick grown up people: isn’t it dear of +her?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I am interested in the bazaar,” said Lady Helen, ignoring the +subject of Mrs. Ogilvie’s noble action.</p> + +<p>“It is so inciting all about it,” continued the little girl, “and I +can see the marquee quite splendidly from here, and mother flitting +about. Isn’t mother pretty, isn’t she quite sweet? She is going to +have the most lovely dress for the bazaar, a sort of silvery white; +she will look like an angel—but then she is an angel, isn’t she, Lady +Helen?”</p> + +<p>Lady Helen bent and kissed Sibyl on her soft forehead. “You must not +talk too much and tire yourself,” she said; “let me talk to you. I +have plenty of nice things to say.”</p> + +<p>“Stories?” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I will tell you stories.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you; I do love ’em. Did you ever tell them to Mr. Rochester?”</p> + +<p>“I have not seen him lately.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll be married to him soon, I know you will.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p><p>“We need not talk about that now, need we? I want to do something to +amuse you.”</p> + +<p>“It’s odd how weak my voice has grown,” said Sibyl, with a laugh. +“Mother says I am getting better, and perhaps I am, only somehow I do +feel weak. Do you know, mother wanted me to dress dolls for her, but I +couldn’t. Nursie did ’em. There’s one big beautiful doll with wings; +Nurse made the wings, but she can’t put them on right; will you put +them on proper, Lady Helen?”</p> + +<p>“I should like to,” replied Lady Helen; “I have a natural aptitude for +dressing dolls.”</p> + +<p>“The big doll with the wings is in that box over there. Take it out +and sit down by the sofa so that I can see you, and put the wings on +properly. There’s plenty of white gauze and wire. I want you to make +the doll as like an angel as you can.”</p> + +<p>Lady Helen commenced her pretty work. Sibyl watched her, not caring to +talk much now, for Lady Helen seemed too busy to answer.</p> + +<p>“It rests me to have you in the room,” said the child, “you are like +this room. Do you know Miss Winstead has given it such a funny name.”</p> + +<p>“What is that, Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“She calls it the Chamber of Peace—isn’t it sweet of her?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p><p>“The name is a beautiful one, and so is the room,” answered Lady +Helen.</p> + +<p>“I do wish Mr. Rochester was here,” was Sibyl’s next remark.</p> + +<p>“He will come to the bazaar, dear.”</p> + +<p>“And then, perhaps, I’ll see him. I want to see him soon, I have +something I’d like to say.”</p> + +<p>“What, darling?”</p> + +<p>“Something to you and to him. I want you both to be happy. I’m +tremendous anxious that you should both be happy, and I think—I +wouldn’t like to say it to mother, for perhaps it will hurt her, but I +do fancy that, perhaps, I’m going to have wings, too, not like +dolly’s, but real ones, and if I have them I <span style="white-space: nowrap;">might——”</span></p> + +<p>“What, darling?”</p> + +<p>“Fly away to my beautiful Lord Jesus. You don’t know how I want to be +close to Him. I used to think that if I got into father’s heart I +should be quite satisfied, but even that, even that is not like being +in the heart of Jesus. If my wings come I must go, Lady Helen. It will +be lovely to fly up, won’t it, for perhaps some day I might get tired +of lying always flat on my back. Mother doesn’t know, darling mother +doesn’t guess, and I wouldn’t tell her for all the wide world, for she +thinks I’m going to get quite well again, but one night, when she +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>thought I was asleep, I heard Nursie say to Miss Winstead, ‘Poor +lamb, she’ll soon want to run about again, but she never can, never.’ +I shouldn’t like to be always lying down flat, should you, Lady +Helen?”</p> + +<p>“No, darling, I don’t think I should.”</p> + +<p>“Well, there it is, you see, you wouldn’t like it either. Of course I +want to see father again, but whatever happens he’ll understand. Only +if my wings come I must fly off, and I want everyone to be happy +before I go.”</p> + +<p>Lady Helen had great difficulty in keeping back her tears, for Sibyl +spoke in a perfectly calm, contented, almost matter-of-fact voice +which brought intense conviction with it.</p> + +<p>“So you must marry Mr. Rochester,” she continued, “for you both love +each other so very much.”</p> + +<p>“That is quite true,” replied Lady Helen.</p> + +<p>Sibyl looked at her with dilated, smiling eyes. “The Lombard Deeps +Mine is full to the brim with gold,” she said, in an excited voice. “I +know—Lord Grayleigh told me. He has it all wrote down in his +pocket-book, and you and Mr. Rochester are to have your share. When +you are both very, very happy you’ll think of me, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I can never forget you, my dear little girl. Kiss me, now—see! the +angel doll is finished.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p><p>“Oh, isn’t it lovely?” said the child, her attention immediately +distracted by this new interest. “Do take it down to mother. She’s +dressing the stall where the dolls are to be sold; ask her to put the +angel doll at the head of all the other dolls. Take it to mother now. +I can watch from my window—do go at once.”</p> + +<p>Lady Helen was glad of an excuse to leave the room. When she got into +the corridor outside she stopped for a moment, put her handkerchief to +her eyes, made a struggle to subdue her emotion, and then ran +downstairs.</p> + +<p>The great marquee was already erected on the lawn, and many of the +stall-holders were arranging their stalls and giving directions to +different workmen. Mrs. Ogilvie was flitting eagerly about. She was in +the highest spirits, and looked young and charming.</p> + +<p>“Sibyl sent you this,” said Lady Helen.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie glanced for a moment at the angel doll.</p> + +<p>“Oh, lay it down anywhere, please,” she said in a negative tone. But +Lady Helen thought of the sweet blue eyes looking down on this scene +from the Chamber of Peace. She was not going to put the angel doll +down anywhere.</p> + +<p>“Please, Mrs. Ogilvie,” she said, “you must take <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>an interest in it.” +There was something in her tone which arrested even Mrs. Ogilvie’s +attention.</p> + +<p>“You must take a great interest in this doll,” she continued. “Little +Sibyl thinks so much of it. Forgive me, Mrs. Ogilvie, <span style="white-space: nowrap;">I——”</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, what is it now,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, “what can be the matter? +Really everyone who goes near Sibyl acts in the most extraordinary +way.” She looked petulantly, as she spoke, into Lady Helen’s agitated +face.</p> + +<p>“I cannot help thinking much of Sibyl,” continued Lady Helen, “and I +am very—more than anxious about her. I am terribly grieved, for—I +<span style="white-space: nowrap;">think——”</span></p> + +<p>“You think what? Oh, please don’t begin to be gloomy now. You have +only seen Sibyl for the first time since her accident. She is very +much better than she was at first. You cannot expect her to look quite +well all of a sudden.”</p> + +<p>“But have you had the very best advice for her?”</p> + +<p>“I should rather think so. We had Sir Henry Powell down twice. +Everything has been done that could be done. It is merely a question +of time and rest. Time and rest will effect a perfect cure; at least, +that is my opinion.”</p> + +<p>“But what is Sir Henry Powell’s opinion?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t ask me. I don’t believe in doctors. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>child is getting +better, I see it with my own eyes. It is merely a question of time.”</p> + +<p>“Sibyl is getting well, but not in the way you think,” replied Lady +Helen. She said the words with significance, and Mrs. Ogilvie felt her +heart throb for a moment with a sudden wild pain, but the next instant +she laughed.</p> + +<p>“I never knew anyone so gloomy,” she said, “and you come to me with +your queer remarks just when I am distracted about the great bazaar. I +am almost sorry I asked you here, Lady Helen.”</p> + +<p>“Well, at least take the doll—the child is looking at you,” said Lady +Helen. “Kiss your hand to her; look pleased even if you are not +interested, and give me a promise, that I may take to her, that the +angel doll shall stand at the head of the doll stall. The child wishes +it; do not deny her wishes now.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, take her any message you like, only leave me, please, for the +present. Ah, there she is, little darling.” Mrs. Ogilvie took the +angel doll in her hand, and blew a couple of kisses to Sibyl. Sibyl +smiled down at her from the Chamber of Peace. Very soon afterward Lady +Helen returned to her little friend.</p> + +<p>It was on the first day of the bazaar when all the big-wigs had +arrived, when the fun was at its height, when the bands were playing +merrily, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>the little pleasure skiffs were floating up and down the +shining waters of the Thames, when flocks of visitors from all the +neighborhood round were crowding in and out of the marquee, and people +were talking and laughing merrily, and Mrs. Ogilvie in her silvery +white dress was looking more beautiful than she had ever looked before +in her life, that a tired, old-looking man appeared on the scene.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie half expected that her husband would come back on the day +of the bazaar, for if the <i>Sahara</i> kept to her dates she would make +her appearance in the Tilbury Docks in the early morning of that day. +Mrs. Ogilvie hoped that her husband would get off, and take a quick +train to Richmond, and arrive in time for her to have a nice straight +talk with him, and explain to him about Sibyl’s accident, and tell him +what was expected of him. She was anxious to see him before anyone +else did, for those who went in and out of the child’s room were so +blind, so persistent in their fears with regard to the little girl’s +ultimate recovery; if Mrs. Ogilvie could only get Philip to herself, +she would assure him that the instincts of motherhood never really +failed, that her own instincts assured her that the great doctors were +wrong, and she herself was right. The child was slowly but gradually +returning to the paths of health and strength.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p><p>If only Ogilvie came back in good time his wife would explain these +matters to him, and tell him not to make a fool of himself about the +child, and beg of him to help her in this great, this auspicious +occasion of her life.</p> + +<p>“He will look very nice when he is dressed in his, best,” she said to +herself. “It will complete my success in the county if I have him +standing by my side at the door of the marquee to receive our +distinguished guests.”</p> + +<p>As this thought came her eyes sparkled, and she got her maid to dress +her in the most becoming way, and she further reflected that when they +had a moment to be alone the husband and wife could talk of the +wonderful golden treasures which Ogilvie was bringing back with him +from the other side of the world. Perhaps he had thought much of her, +his dear Mildred, while he had been away.</p> + +<p>“Men of that sort often think much more of their wives when they are +parted from them,” she remembered. “I have read stories to that +effect. I dare say Philip is as much in love with me as he ever was. +He used to be devoted to me when first we were married. There was +nothing good enough for me then. Perhaps he has brought me back some +jewels of greater value than I possess; I will gladly wear them for +his sake.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p><p>But notwithstanding all her dreams and thoughts of her husband, +Ogilvie did not come back to his loving wife in the early hours of the +first day of the bazaar. Neither was there any message or telegram +from him. In spite of herself, Mrs. Ogilvie now grew a little fretful.</p> + +<p>“As he has not come in time to receive our guests, if I knew where to +telegraph, I would wire to him not to come now until the evening,” she +thought. But she did not know where to telegraph, and the numerous +duties of the bazaar occupied each moment of her time.</p> + +<p>According to his promise Lord Grayleigh was present, and there were +other titled people walking about the grounds, and Lady Helen as a +stall-holder was invaluable.</p> + +<p>Sibyl had asked to have her white couch drawn nearer than ever to the +window, and from time to time she peeped out and saw the guests +flitting about the lawns and thought of her mother’s great happiness +and wonderful goodness. The band played ravishing music, mostly dance +music, and the day, although it was late in the season, was such a +perfect one that the feet of the buyers and sellers alike almost kept +time to the festive strains.</p> + +<p>It was on this scene that Ogilvie appeared. During his voyage home he +had gone through almost <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>every imaginable torture, and, as he reached +Silverbel, he felt that the limit of his patience was almost reached. +He knew, because she had sent him a cable to that effect, that his +wife was staying in a country place, a place on the banks of the +Thames. She had told him further that the nearest station to Silverbel +was Richmond. Accordingly he had gone to Richmond, jumped into the +first cab he could find, and desired the man to drive to Silverbel.</p> + +<p>“You know the place, I presume?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Silverbel, sir, certainly sir; it is there they are having the big +bazaar.”</p> + +<p>As the man spoke he looked askance for a moment at the occupant of his +cab, for Ogilvie was travel-stained and dusty. He looked like one in a +terrible hurry. There was an expression in his gray eyes which the +driver did not care to meet.</p> + +<p>“Go as fast as you can,” he said briefly, and then the man whipped up +his horse and proceeded over the dusty roads.</p> + +<p>“A rum visitor,” he thought; “wonder what he’s coming for. Don’t look +the sort that that fine young lady would put up with on a day like +this.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie within the cab, however, saw nothing. He was only conscious of +the fact that he was drawing nearer and nearer to the house where his +little daughter—but did his little daughter still live? Was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>Sibyl +alive? That was the thought of all thoughts, the desire of all +desires, which must soon be answered yea or nay.</p> + +<p>When the tired-out and stricken man heard the strains of the band, he +did rouse himself, however, and began dimly to wonder if, after all, +he had come to the wrong house. Were there two houses called +Silverbel, and had the man taken him to the wrong one? He pulled up +the cab to inquire.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” replied the driver, “it’s all right. There ain’t but one +place named Silverbel here, and this is the place, sir. The lady is +giving a big bazaar and her name is Mrs. Ogilvie.”</p> + +<p>“Then Sibyl must have got well again,” thought Ogilvie to himself. And +just for an instant the heavy weight at his breast seemed to lift. He +paid his fare, told the man to take his luggage round to the back +entrance, and jumped out of the cab.</p> + +<p>The man obeyed him, and Ogilvie, just as he was, stepped across the +lawn. He had the air of one who was neither a visitor nor yet a +stranger. He walked with quick, short strides straight before him and +presently he came full upon his wife in her silvery dress. A large +white hat trimmed with pink roses reposed on her head. There were +nature’s own pink roses on her cheeks and smiles in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Phil!” she cried, with a little start. She <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>was quite clever +enough to hide her secret dismay at his arriving thus, and at such a +moment. She dropped some things she was carrying and ran toward him +with her pretty hands outstretched.</p> + +<p>“Why, Phil!” she said again. “Oh, you naughty man, so you have come +back. But why didn’t you send me a telegram?”</p> + +<p>“I had not time, Mildred; I thought my own presence was best. How is +the child?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, much the same—I mean she is going on quite, <i>quite</i> nicely.”</p> + +<p>“And what is this?”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie motioned with his hand as he spoke in the direction of the +crowd of people, the marquee, and the band. The music of the band +seemed to get on his brain and hurt him.</p> + +<p>“What is all this?” he repeated.</p> + +<p>“My dear Phil, my dear unpractical husband, this is a bazaar! Have you +never heard of a bazaar before? A bazaar for the Cottage Hospital at +Watleigh, the Home for Incurables; such a useful charity, Phil, and so +much needed. The poor things are wanting funds dreadfully; they have +got into debt, and something must be done to relieve them Think of all +the dear little children in those wards, Phil; the Sisters have been +obliged to refuse several cases lately. It is most pathetic, isn’t it? +Oh, by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>the way, Lord Grayleigh is here; you will be glad to see him?”</p> + +<p>“Presently, not now. How did you say Sibyl was?”</p> + +<p>“I told you a moment ago. You can go and see her when you have changed +your things. I wish you would go away at once to your room and get +into some other clothes. There are no end of people you ought to meet. +How strange you look, Phil.”</p> + +<p>“I want to know more of Sibyl.” Here the husband caught the wife’s +dainty wrist and drew her a little aside. “No matter about other +things at present,” he said sternly. “How is Sibyl? Remember, I have +heard no particulars; I have heard nothing since I got your cable. How +is she? Is there much the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I really don’t think there is, but perhaps Lady Helen will tell +you. Shall I send her to you? I really am so busy just now. You know I +am selling, myself, at the principal stall. Oh, do go into the house, +you naughty dear; do go to your own room and change your things! I +expected you early this morning, and Watson has put out some of your +wardrobe. Watson will attend on you if you will ring for him. You will +find there is a special dressing room for you on the first floor. Go, +dear, do.”</p> + +<p>But Ogilvie now hold both her hands. His own <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>were not too clean; they +were soiled by the dust of his rapid journey. He gripped her wrists +tightly.</p> + +<p>“<i>Where</i> is the child?” he repeated again.</p> + +<p>“Don’t look at me like that, you quite frighten me. The child, she is +in her room; she is going on nicely.”</p> + +<p>“But is she injured? Can she walk?”</p> + +<p>“What could you expect? She cannot walk yet, but she is getting better +gradually—at least, I think so.”</p> + +<p>“What you think is nothing, less than nothing. What do the doctors +say?”</p> + +<p>As Ogilvie was speaking he drew his wife gradually but surely away +from the fashionably dressed people and the big-wigs who were too +polite to stare, but who were all the time devoured with curiosity. It +began to be whispered in the crowd that Ogilvie had returned, and that +his wife and he were looking at certain matters from different points +of view. There were several men and women present, who, although they +encouraged Mrs. Ogilvie to have the bazaar, nevertheless thought her a +heartless woman, and these people now were rather rejoicing in +Ogilvie’s attitude. He did not look like a person who could be trifled +with. He drew his wife toward the shrubbery.</p> + +<p>“I will see the child in a minute,” he said; “nothing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>else matters. +She is ill, unable to walk, lying down. I want to hear full +particulars. If you will not tell them to me, I will send for the +doctor. The question I wish answered is this, <i>what do the doctors +say</i>?”</p> + +<p>Tears filled Mrs. Ogilvie’s pretty, dark eyes.</p> + +<p>“Really, Phil, you are too cruel. After these weeks of anxiety, which +only a mother can understand, you speak to me in that tone, just as if +the dear little creature were nothing to me at all.”</p> + +<p>“You can cry, Mildred, as much as you please, and you can talk all the +sentimental stuff that best appeals to you, but answer my question +now. What do the doctors say, and what doctors has she seen?”</p> + +<p>“The local doctor here, our own special doctor in town, and the great +specialist, Sir Henry Powell.”</p> + +<p>“Good God, that man!” said Ogilvie, starting back. “Then she must have +been badly hurt?”</p> + +<p>“She was badly hurt.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what did the doctors say? Give me their verdict. I insist upon +knowing.”</p> + +<p>“They—they—of course, they are wrong, Phil. You are hurting me; I +wish you would not hold my hands so tightly.”</p> + +<p>“Speak!” was his only response.</p> + +<p>“They said at the time—of course they were mistaken, doctors often +are. You cannot imagine how <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span>many diagnoses of theirs have been proved +to be wrong. Yes, I learned that queer word; I did not understand it +at first. Now I know all about it.”</p> + +<p>“Speak!” This one expression came from Ogilvie’s lips almost with a +hiss.</p> + +<p>“Well, they said at the time that—oh, Phil, you kill me when you look +at me like that! They said the case <span style="white-space: nowrap;">was——”</span></p> + +<p>“Hopeless?” asked the man between his white lips.</p> + +<p>“They certainly <i>said</i> it. But, Phil; oh, Phil, dear, they are wrong!”</p> + +<p>He let her hands go with a sudden jerk. She almost fell.</p> + +<p>“You knew it, and you could have that going on?” he said. “Go back to +your bazaar.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly will. I think you are terribly unkind.”</p> + +<p>“You can have those people here, and that band playing, when you know +<i>that</i>? Well, if such scenes give you pleasure at such a time, go and +enjoy them.”</p> + +<p>He strode into the house. She looked after his retreating figure; then +she took out her daintily laced handkerchief, applied it to her eyes, +and went back to her duties.</p> + +<p>“I am a martyr in a good cause,” she said to herself; “but it is +bitterly hard when one’s husband does not understand one.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<p>This was better than the phantom ship. This was peace, joy, and +absolute delight. Sibyl need not now only lie in her father’s arms at +night and in her dreams. She could look into his face and hear his +voice and touch his hand at all hours, day and night.</p> + +<p>Her gladness was so real and beautiful that it pervaded the entire +room, and in her presence Ogilvie scarcely felt pain. He held her +little hand and sat by her side, and at times when she was utterly +weary he even managed to raise her in his arms and pace the room with +her, and lay her back again on her bed without hurting her, and he +talked cheerfully in her presence, and smiled and even joked with her, +and they were gay together with a sort of tender gaiety which had +never been theirs in the old times. At night, especially, he was her +best comforter and her kindest and most tender nurse.</p> + +<p>For the first two days after his return Ogilvie scarcely left Sibyl. +During all that time he asked no questions of outsiders. He did not +even inquire for the doctor’s verdict. Where was the good of asking a +question which could only receive one answer? <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>The look on the child’s +face was answer enough to her father.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, outside in the grounds, the bazaar went on. The marquee was +full of guests, the band played cheerily, the notable people from all +the country round arrived in carriages, and bought the pretty things +from the different stall-holders and went away again.</p> + +<p>The weather was balmy, soft and warm, and the little skiffs with their +gay flags did a large trade on the river. Lord Grayleigh was one of +the guests, returning to town, it is true, at night, but coming back +again early in the morning. He heard that Ogilvie had returned and was +naturally anxious to see him, but Ogilvie sent word that he could not +see anyone just then. Grayleigh understood. He shook his head when +Mrs. Ogilvie herself brought him the message.</p> + +<p>“This cuts him to the heart,” he said; “I doubt if he will ever be the +same man again.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lord Grayleigh, what nonsense!” said the wife. “My dear husband +was always eccentric, but as Sibyl recovers so will he recover his +equanimity. It is a great shock to him, of course, to see her as she +is now, dear little soul. But I cannot tell you how bad I was at +first; indeed, I was in bed for nearly a week. I had a sort of nervous +attack—nervous fever, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>the doctor said. But I got over it. I know now +so assuredly that the darling child is getting well that I am never +unhappy about her. Philip will be just the same by-and-by.”</p> + +<p>Grayleigh made no reply. He gave Mrs. Ogilvie one of his queer +glances, turned on his heel and whistled softly to himself. He +muttered under his breath that some women were poor creatures, and he +was sorry for Ogilvie, yes, very sorry.</p> + +<p>Grayleigh was also anxious with regard to another matter, but that +anxiety he managed so effectually to smother that he would not even +allow himself to <i>think</i> that it had any part in Ogilvie’s curious +unwillingness to see him.</p> + +<p>At this time it is doubtful whether Ogilvie did refuse to see +Grayleigh in any way on account of the mine, for during those two days +he had eyes, ears, thoughts, and heart for no one but Sibyl. When +anyone else entered her room he invariably went out, but he quickly +returned, smiling as he did so, and generally carrying in his hand +some treasure which he had brought for her across the seas. He would +then draw his chair near the little, white bed and talk to her in +light and cheerful strains, telling her wonderful things he had seen +during his voyage, of the sunsets at sea, of a marvelous rainbow which +once spanned the sky from east to west, and of many <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>curious mirages +which he had witnessed. He always talked to the child of nature, +knowing how she understood nature, and those things which are the +special heritage of the innocent of the earth, and she was as happy +during those two peaceful days as it was ever the lot of little mortal +to be.</p> + +<p>But, in particular, when Mrs. Ogilvie entered the sick room did +Ogilvie go out. He had during those two days not a single word of +private talk with his wife. To Miss Winstead he was always polite and +tolerant; to nurse he was more than polite, he was kind, and to Sibyl +he was all in all, everything that father could be, everything that +love could imagine. He kept himself, his wounded conscience, his +fears, his heavy burden of sin in abeyance for the sake of the +fast-fleeting little life, because he willed, with all the strength of +his nature, to give the child every comfort that lay in his power +during her last moments.</p> + +<p>But the peaceful days could not last long. They came to an end with +the big bazaar. The band ceased to play on the lawn, the pleasure +boats ceased to ply up and down the Thames, the lovely Indian summer +passed into duller weather, the equinoctial gales visited the land, +and Ogilvie knew that he must brace himself for something he had long +made up his mind to accomplish. He must pass out of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>this time of +quiet into a time of storm. He had known from the first that he must +do this, but until the bazaar came to an end, by a sort of tacit +consent, neither the child nor the man talked of the gold mine.</p> + +<p>But now the guests having gone, even Lady Helen Douglas and Lord +Grayleigh having left the house, Ogilvie knew that he must act.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the third day after his return Mrs. Ogilvie entered +Sibyl’s room. She came in quietly looking pale and at the same time +jubilant. The result of the bazaar was a large check which was to be +sent off that day to the Home for Incurables at Watleigh. Mrs. Ogilvie +felt herself a very good and charitable woman indeed. She wore her +very prettiest dress and had smiles in her dark eyes.</p> + +<p>“Oh! my ownest darling mother, how sweet you look!” said little Sibyl. +“Come and kiss me, darling mother.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie had to bend forward to catch the failing voice. She asked +the child what she said. Sibyl feebly repeated her words.</p> + +<p>“Don’t tire her,” said Ogilvie; “if you cannot hear, be satisfied to +guess. The child wishes you to kiss her.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie turned on her husband a look of reproach. There was an +expression in her eyes which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>seemed to say: “And you think that I, a +mother, do not understand my own child.” But Ogilvie would not meet +his wife’s eyes. He walked to one of the windows and looked out. The +little, white couch had been moved a trifle out of the window now that +the weather was getting chilly, and a screen was put up to protect the +child from any draught.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie stood and looked across the garden. Where the marquee had +stood the grass was already turning yellow, there were wisps of straw +about; the scene without seemed to him to be full with desolation. +Suddenly he turned, walked to the fireplace, and stirred the fire into +a blaze. At that moment Miss Winstead entered the room.</p> + +<p>“Miss Winstead,” said Ogilvie, “will you sit with Sibyl for a short +time? Mildred, I should like a word with you alone.”</p> + +<p>His voice was cheerful, but quite firm. He went up to Sibyl and kissed +her.</p> + +<p>“I shall soon be back, my little love,” he said, and she kissed him +and smiled, and watched both parents as they went out of the room.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it wonderful,” she said, turning to her governess, “how perfect +they both are! I don’t know which is most perfect; only, of course I +can’t help it, but I like father’s way best.”</p> + +<p>“I should think you did,” replied Miss Winstead. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>“Shall I go on +reading you the new fairy tale, Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“Not to-day, thank you, Miss Winstead,” answered Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Then what shall I read?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think anything, just now. Father has been reading the most +beautiful inciting things about a saint called John, who wrote a story +about the New Jerusalem. Did you ever read it?”</p> + +<p>“You mean a story out of the Bible, from the Book of Revelation?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps so; I don’t quite know what part of the Bible. Oh, it’s most +wonderful inciting, and father reads so splendid. It’s about what +happens to people when their wings are grown long. Did you never read +about it, Miss Winstead? The New Jerusalem <i>is</i> so lovely, with +streets paved with gold, same as the gold in the gold mine, you know, +and gates all made of big pearls, each gate one big whole pearl. I +won’t ask you to read about it, ’cos I like father’s way of reading +best; but it’s all most wonderful and beautiful.”</p> + +<p>The child lay with a smile on her face. She could see a little way +across the garden from where she lay.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Ogilvie and his wife had gone downstairs. When they reached +the wide central hall, he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>asked her to accompany him into a room +which was meant to be a library. It looked out toward the back of the +house, and was not quite in the same absolute order as the other +beautiful rooms were in. Ogilvie perhaps chose it for that reason.</p> + +<p>The moment they had both got into the room he closed the door, and +turned and faced his wife.</p> + +<p>“Now, Mildred,” he said, “I wish to understand—God knows I am the +last person who ought to reproach you—but I must clearly understand +what this means.”</p> + +<p>“What it means?” she repeated. “Why do you speak in that tone? Oh, +it’s very fine to say you do not mean to reproach me, but your eyes +and the tone of your voice reproach me. You have been very cruel to +me, Philip, these last two days. What I have suffered, God only knows. +I have gone through the most fearful strain; I, alone, unaided by you, +have had to keep the bazaar going, to entertain our distinguished +guests, to be here, there, and everywhere, but, thank goodness, we did +collect a nice little sum for the Home for Incurables. I wonder, +Philip, when you think of your own dear little daughter, and what she +<span style="white-space: nowrap;">may——”</span></p> + +<p>“Hush!” said the man.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie paused in her rapid flow of words, and looked at him with +interrogation in her eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p><p>“I refuse to allow Sibyl’s name to enter into this matter,” he said. +“You did what you did, God knows with what motive. I don’t care, and I +do not mean to inquire. The question I have now to ask is, what is the +meaning of <i>this</i>?” As he spoke he waved his hand round the room, and +then pointed to the grounds outside.</p> + +<p>“Silverbel!” she cried; “but I wrote to you and told you the place was +in the market. I even sent you a cablegram. Oh, of course, I forgot, +you rushed away from Brisbane in a hurry. You received the other +cablegram about little Sibyl?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I received the other cablegram, and, as you say, I rushed home. +But why are you here? Have you taken the house for the season, or +what?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie gave an excited scream, ending off in a laugh.</p> + +<p>“Why, we have bought Silverbel,” she cried; “you are, you must be +pleased. Mr. Acland lent me enough money for the first deposit, and +you have just come back in time, my dear Phil, to pay the final sum +due at the end of October, eighteen thousand pounds. Quite a trifle +compared to the fortune you must have brought back with you. Then, of +course, there is also the furniture to be paid for, but the +tradespeople are quite willing to wait. We are rich, dear Phil, and I +am so happy about it.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p><p>“Rich!” he answered. He did not say another word for a moment, then he +went slowly up to his wife, and took her hand.</p> + +<p>“Mildred,” he said slowly, “do you realize—do you at all realize the +fact that the child is dying?”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense,” she answered, starting back.</p> + +<p>“The child is dying,” repeated Ogilvie, “and when the child dies, any +motive that I ever had for amassing gold, or any of those things which +are considered essential to the worldly man’s happiness, <i>goes out</i>. +After the child is taken, I have no desire to live as a wealthy man, +as a man of society, as a man of means. Life to me is reduced to the +smallest possible modicum of interest. When I went to Queensland, I +went there because I wished to secure money for the child. I did +bitter wrong, and God is punishing me, but I sinned for her sake.... I +now repent of my sin, and repentance <span style="white-space: nowrap;">means——”</span></p> + +<p>“What?” she asked, looking at him with round, dilated eyes.</p> + +<p>“Restitution,” he replied; “all the restitution that lies in my +power.”</p> + +<p>“You—you terrify me,” said Mrs. Ogilvie; “what are you talking about? +Restitution! What have you to give back?”</p> + +<p>“Listen, and I will explain. You knew, Mildred—oh, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>yes, you knew it +well enough—that I went to Australia on no honorable mission. You did +not care to inquire, you hid yourself behind a veil of pretended +ignorance; but you <i>knew</i>—yes, you did, and you dare not deny +it—that I went to Queensland to commit a crime. It would implicate +others if I were to explain things more fully. I will not implicate +others, I will stand alone now, in this bitter moment when the fruit +of my sin is brought home to me. I will bear the responsibility of my +own sin. I will not drag anybody else down in my fall, but it is +sufficient for you to know, Mildred, that the Lombard Deeps Mine as a +speculation is worthless.”</p> + +<p>“Worthless!” she cried, “impossible!”</p> + +<p>“Worthless,” he repeated.</p> + +<p>“Then why, why did you send a cablegram to say the mine was full of +gold? Lord Grayleigh told me he had received such a message from you.”</p> + +<p>“I told a dastardly lie, which I am about to put straight.”</p> + +<p>“But, but,” she began, her lips white, her eyes shining, “if you do +not explain away your lie (oh, Phil, it is such an ugly word), if you +do not explain it away, could not the company be floated?”</p> + +<p>“It could, and the directors could reap a fortune by means of it. Do +you understand, Mildred, what that implies?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p><p>“Do I understand?” she replied. “No, I was always a poor little woman +who had no head for figures.”</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless you will, I think, take it in when I explain. You are +not quite so stupid as you make yourself out. The directors and I +could make a fortune—it would be easy, for there is enough gold in +the mine to last for at least six months, and the public are +credulous, and can be taken in. We should make our fortunes out of the +widows and orphans, out of the savings of the poor clerks, and from +the clergyman’s tiny stipend. We could sweep in their little earnings, +and aggrandize our own wealth and importance, and <i>lose our souls</i>. +Yes, Mildred, we could, but we won’t. I shall prevent that. I have a +task before me which will save this foulest crime from being +committed.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie dropped into a chair; she burst into hysterical weeping.</p> + +<p>“What you say can’t be true, Phil. Oh, Phil, darling, do have mercy.”</p> + +<p>“How?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Don’t do anything so mad, so rash. You always had such a queer, +troublesome sort of conscience. Phil, I cannot stand poverty, I cannot +stand being dragged down; I must have this place; I have set my heart +on it.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p><p>He came up to her and took both her hands.</p> + +<p>“Is it worth evil?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Is anything under the sun worth evil?” She made no answer. He dropped +her hands and left the room.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p>Ogilvie went up to Sibyl. Suffering and love had taught him many +lessons, amongst others those of absolute self-control. His face was +smiling and calm as he crossed the room, bent over the child and +kissed her. Those blue eyes of hers, always so full of penetration and +of knowledge, which was not all this earth, could detect no sorrow in +her father’s.</p> + +<p>“I must go to town, I shall be away for as short a time as possible. +As soon as I come back I will come to you,” he said. “Look after her, +please, Miss Winstead. If you cannot remain in the room, send nurse. +Now, don’t tire yourself, my little love. Remember that father will be +back very soon.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t hurry, father darling,” replied Sibyl “’cos I am quite happy +thinking about you, even if you are not here.”</p> + +<p>He went away, ran downstairs, put on his hat and went out. His wife +was standing in the porch.</p> + +<p>“One moment, Phil,” she called, “where are you going?”</p> + +<p>“To town.”</p> + +<p>“To do what?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p><p>“To do what I said,” he answered, and he gave her a strange look, +which frightened her, and caused her to fall back against the wall.</p> + +<p>He disappeared down the avenue, she sank into a chair and began to +weep. She was thoroughly miserable and frightened. Philip had +returned, but all pleasant golden dreams were shattered, for although +he had sent a cablegram to Lord Grayleigh, saying that all was well, +better than well, his conscience was speaking to him, that troublesome +terrible conscience of his, and he was about to destroy his own work.</p> + +<p>“What fearful creatures men with consciences are,” moaned Mrs. +Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Ogilvie walked quickly up the avenue. Just at the gates he +met an old couple who were coming in. They were a queer-looking old +pair, dressed in old-fashioned style. Ogilvie did not know them, but +the woman paused when she saw him, came forward, dropped a curtsey and +said:</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir.”</p> + +<p>“What can I do for you?” said Ogilvie. He tried to speak courteously, +but this delay, and the presence of the old couple whose names he did +not even know, irritated him.</p> + +<p>“If you please, sir, you are Mr. Ogilvie?”</p> + +<p>“That is my name.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p><p>“We know you,” continued the old woman, “by the likeness to your +little daughter.”</p> + +<p>The mention of Sibyl caused Ogilvie now to regard them more +attentively.</p> + +<p>“May I inquire your names?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Holman, sir,” said the woman. “This is my husband, sir. We heard only +yesterday of dear little Missie’s illness, and we couldn’t rest until +we came to enquire after her. We greatly ’opes, sir, that the dear +little lamb is better. We thought you wouldn’t mind if we asked.”</p> + +<p>“By no means,” answered Ogilvie. “Any friends of Sibyl’s, any real +friends, are of interest to me.”</p> + +<p>He paused and looked into the old woman’s face.</p> + +<p>“She’s better, ain’t she, dear lamb?” asked Mrs. Holman.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie shook his head; it was a quick movement, his face was very +white, his lips opened but no words came. The next instant he had +hurried down the road, leaving the old pair looking after him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Holman caught her husband’s hand.</p> + +<p>“What do it mean, John?” she asked, “what do it mean?”</p> + +<p>“We had best go to the house and find out,” was Holman’s response.</p> + +<p>“Yes, we had best,” replied Mrs. Holman; “but, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>John, I take it that +it means the worst. The little lamb was too good for this earth. I +always said it, John, always.”</p> + +<p>“Come to the house and let’s find out,” said Holman again.</p> + +<p>He took his old wife’s hand, and the strange-looking pair walked down +the avenue. Presently they found themselves standing outside the +pretty old-fashioned porch of lovely Silverbel. They did not know as +they walked that they were in full view of the windows of the Chamber +of Peace, and that eager blue eyes were watching them, eager eyes +which filled with love and longing when they gazed at them.</p> + +<p>“Miss Winstead!” cried little Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“What is it, dear?” asked the governess.</p> + +<p>Sibyl had been silent for nearly a quarter of an hour, and Miss +Winstead, tired with the bazaar and many other things, had been +falling into a doze. The sudden excitement in Sibyl’s voice now +arrested her attention.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss Winstead, they have come.”</p> + +<p>“Who have come, dear?”</p> + +<p>“The Holmans, the darlings! I saw them walking down the avenue. Oh, I +should so like to see them. Will you go down and bring them up? Please +do.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p><p>“But the doctor said you were to be quiet, and not excite yourself.”</p> + +<p>“What does it matter whether I incite myself or not? Please, please +let me see the Holmans.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear,” replied Miss Winstead. She left the room and went +downstairs. As she entered the central hall she suddenly found herself +listening to an animated conversation.</p> + +<p>“Now, my good people,” said Mrs. Ogilvie’s voice, raised high and +clear, “you will be kind enough to return to town immediately. The +child is ill, but we hope soon to have her better. See her, did you +say, my good woman? Certainly not. I shall be pleased to offer you +refreshment if you will go round to the housekeeper’s entrance, but +you must take the next train to town, you cannot see the child.”</p> + +<p>“If you please, Mrs. Ogilvie,” here interrupted Miss Winstead, coming +forward. “Sibyl noticed Mr. and Mrs. Holman as they walked down the +avenue, and is very much pleased and delighted at their coming to see +her, and wants to know if they may come up at once and have a talk +with her?”</p> + +<p>“Dear me!” cried Mrs. Ogilvie; “I really must give the child another +bedroom, this sort of thing is so bad for her. It is small wonder the +darling <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>does not get back her health—the dreadful way in which she +is over-excited and injudiciously treated. Really, my good folks, I +wish you would go back to town and not make mischief.”</p> + +<p>“But if the little lady wishes?” began Mrs. Holman, in a timid voice, +tears trembling on her eyelids.</p> + +<p>“Sibyl certainly does wish to see you,” said Miss Winstead in a grave +voice. “I think, Mrs. Ogilvie,” she added, “it would be a pity to +refuse her. I happen to know Mr. and Mrs. Holman pretty well, and I do +not think they will injure dear little Sibyl. If you will both promise +to come upstairs quietly,” continued Miss Winstead, “and not express +sorrow when you see her, for she is much changed, and will endeavor to +speak cheerfully, you will do her good, not harm.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, we’ll speak cheerfully,” said Holman; “we know the ways of +dear little Miss. If so be that she would see us, it would be a great +gratification, Madam, and we will give you our word that we will not +injure your little daughter.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, waving her hand, “My opinion is never +taken in this house, nor my wishes consulted. I pass the +responsibility on to you, Miss Winstead. When the child’s father +returns and finds that you have acted as you have done <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>you will have +to answer to him. I wash my hands of the matter.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ogilvie went out on to the lawn.</p> + +<p>“The day is improving,” she thought. She glanced up at the sky. “It +certainly is miserable at home, and every one talks nonsense about +Sibyl. I shall really take a drive and go and see the Le Stranges. I +cannot stand the gloom of the house. The dear child is getting better +fast, there is not the least doubt of it, and why Phil should talk as +he does, and in particular why he should speak as if we were paupers, +is past bearing. Lose Silverbel! I certainly will not submit to that.”</p> + +<p>So the much aggrieved wife went round in the direction of the stables, +gave orders that the pony trap was to be got ready for her, and soon +afterward was on her way to the Le Stranges. By the time she reached +that gay and somewhat festive household, she herself was as merry and +hopeful as usual.</p> + +<p>Meantime Miss Winstead took the Holmans upstairs.</p> + +<p>“You must be prepared for a very great change,” said Miss Winstead, +“but you will not show her that you notice it. She is very sweet and +very happy, and I do not think anyone need be over-sorry about her.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p><p>Miss Winstead’s own voice trembled. The next moment she opened the +door of the Chamber of Peace, and the old-fashioned pair from whom +Sibyl had bought so many dusty toys stood before her.</p> + +<p>“Eh, my little love, and how are you, dearie?” said Mrs. Holman. She +went forward, dropped on her knees by the bed, and took one of Sibyl’s +soft white hands. “Eh, dearie, and what can Mrs. Holman do for you?”</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Mrs. Holman?” said Sibyl, in her weak, but perfectly +clear voice; “and how do you do, Mr. Holman? How very kind of you both +to come to see me. Do you know I love you very much. I think of you so +often. Won’t you come to the other side of the bed, Mr. Holman, and +won’t you take a chair? My voice is apt to get tired if I talk too +loud. I am very glad to see you both.”</p> + +<p>“Eh! but you look sweet,” said Mrs. Holman.</p> + +<p>Mr. Holman now took his big handkerchief and blew his nose violently. +After that precautionary act he felt better, as he expressed it, and +no longer in danger of giving way. But Mrs. Holman never for a single +instant thought of giving way. She had once, long ago, had a child of +her own—a child who died when young—and she had sat by that dying +child’s bed and never once given expression to her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>feelings. So why +should she now grieve little Sibyl by showing undue sorrow?</p> + +<p>“It is nice to look at you, dearie,” she repeated, “and what a pretty +room you have, my love.”</p> + +<p>“Everything is beautiful,” said little Sibyl, “everything in all the +world, and I love you so much.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure, darling, and so do Holman and I love you.”</p> + +<p>“Whisper,” said Sibyl, “bend a little nearer, my voice gets so very +tired. Have you kept your hundred pounds quite safe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, darling, but we won’t talk of money now.”</p> + +<p>“Only,” said Sibyl, “when the gold comes from the mine <i>you’ll</i> be all +right. Lord Grayleigh has wrote your name and Mr. Holman’s in his +note-book, and he has promised that you are to get some of the gold. +You’ll be able to have the shop in Buckingham Palace Road, and the +children will come to you and buy your beautiful toys.” She paused +here and her little face turned white.</p> + +<p>“You must not talk any more, dearie,” said Mrs. Holman. “It’s all +right about the gold and everything else. All we want is for you to +get well.”</p> + +<p>“I am getting well,” answered Sibyl, but as she said the words a +curious expression came into her eyes.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p><p>“You know,” she said, as Mrs. Holman rose and took her hand before she +went away, “that when we have wings we fly. I think my wings are +coming; but oh, I love you, and you won’t forget me when you have your +big shop in Buckingham Palace Road?”</p> + +<p>“We will never forget you, dearie,” said Mrs. Holman, and then she +stooped and kissed the child.</p> + +<p>“Come, Holman,” she said.</p> + +<p>“If I might,” said old Holman, straightening himself and looking very +solemn, “if I might have the great privilege of kissing little +Missie’s hand afore I go.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, indeed, you may,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>A moment later the old pair were seen going slowly down the avenue.</p> + +<p>“Blessed darling, her wings are very near, I’m thinking,” said Mrs. +Holman. She was sobbing now, although she had not sobbed in the sick +room.</p> + +<p>“Queer woman, the mother,” said Holman. “We’ll get back to town, wife; +I’m wonderful upset.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll never sell no more of the dusty toys to no other little +children,” said Mrs. Holman, and she wept behind her handkerchief.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<p>Ogilvie went straight to town. When he arrived at Victoria he took a +hansom and drove to the house of the great doctor who had last seen +Sibyl. Sir Henry Powell was at home. Ogilvie sent in his card and was +admitted almost immediately into his presence. He asked a few +questions, they were straight and to the point, and to the point did +the specialist reply. His last words were:</p> + +<p>“It is a question of time; but the end may come at any moment. There +never was any hope from the beginning. From the first it was a matter +of days and weeks, I did not know when I first saw your little +daughter that she could live even as long as she has done, but the +injury to the spine was low down, which doubtless accounts for this +fact.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie bowed, offered a fee, which Sir Henry refused, and left the +house. Although he had just received the blow which he expected to +receive, he felt strangely quiet, his troublesome heart was not +troublesome any longer. There was no excitement whatever about him; he +had never felt so calm in all his life before. He knew well that, as +far as earthly success and earthly hope and earthly joy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>went, he was +coming to the end of the ways. He knew that he had strength for the +task which lay before him.</p> + +<p>He went to the nearest telegraph office and sent three telegrams to +Lord Grayleigh. He pre-paid the answers of each, sending one to +Grayleigh’s club, another to his house in town, and another to +Grayleigh Manor. The contents of each were identical.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Wire immediately the next meeting of the directors of the Lombard +Deeps.”</p></div> + +<p>He gave as the address to which the reply was to be sent his own house +in Belgrave Square.</p> + +<p>Having done this he paid a visit to his solicitor, Mr. Acland. Acland +did not know that he had come back, and was unfeignedly glad to see +him, but when he observed the expression on his friend’s face, he +started and said:</p> + +<p>“My dear fellow, you don’t look the better for your trip; I am sorry +to see you so broken down.”</p> + +<p>“I have a good deal to try me,” said Ogilvie; “please do not discuss +my looks. It does not matter whether I am ill or well. I have much to +do and must do my work quickly. You have heard, of course, about the +child?”</p> + +<p>“Of her accident?” exclaimed Acland; “yes, her mother wrote to me some +time ago—she had a fall from her pony?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p><p>“She had.”</p> + +<p>“Take a chair, won’t you, Ogilvie?”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie dropped into one. Acland looked at him and then said, slowly:</p> + +<p>“I judged from Mrs. Ogilvie’s note that there was nothing serious the +matter. I hope I am not mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken,” replied Ogilvie; “but I cannot quite bear to +discuss this matter. Shall we enter at once on the real object of my +visit?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” said Acland.</p> + +<p>A clerk entered the room. “Leave us,” said Acland to the man, “and say +to any inquirers that I am particularly engaged. Now, Ogilvie,” he +added as the clerk withdrew, “I am quite at your service.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. There is a little business which has just come to my ears, +and which I wish to arrange quickly. My wife tells me that she has +borrowed two thousand pounds from you in order to pay a deposit on the +place on the Thames called Silverbel.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the place where your wife is now staying.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you approve of Silverbel, Ogilvie; it is really cheap at the +price; and, of course, everyone knows that you have returned a very +rich man. It would have been pleasanter for me had you been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>at home +when the purchase was made, but Mrs. Ogilvie was insistent. She had +taken a strong fancy to the place. There were several other less +expensive country places in the market, but the only one which would +please her was Silverbel. I cabled to you, but got no reply. Your wife +implored me to act, and I lent her the deposit. The purchase must be +completed at the end of October, in about a month from now. I hope you +don’t blame me, Ogilvie?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t blame you—I understand my wife. It would have been difficult +to refuse her. Of course, had you done so matters might have been a +little easier for me now. As it is, I will pay you back the deposit. I +have my cheque-book with me.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I should like to write a cheque for you now. I must get this matter +put straight, and, Acland, you must find another purchaser.”</p> + +<p>“Not really!” cried Mr. Acland. “The place is beautiful, and cheap at +the price, and you have come back a rich man.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, I have returned to England practically a pauper.”</p> + +<p>“No!” cried Mr. Acland; “but the report of the Lombard <span style="white-space: nowrap;">Deeps——”</span></p> + +<p>“Hush, you will know all soon. It is sufficient <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>for you at present to +receive the news in all confidence that I am a ruined man. Not that it +matters. There will be a trifle for my wife—nothing else concerns me. +May I fill in this cheque?”</p> + +<p>“You can do so, of course,” replied Acland. “I shall receive the money +in full sooner or later from the other purchaser, and then you can +have it back.”</p> + +<p>“It would be a satisfaction to me, however, to pay you the deposit you +lent my wife at once.”</p> + +<p>“Very well.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie filled in a cheque for two thousand pounds.</p> + +<p>“You had better see Mrs. Ogilvie with regard to this,” he said, as he +stood up. “You transacted the business with her, and you must break to +her what I have already done, but what I fear she fails to believe, +that the purchase cannot possibly go on. It will not be in my power, +Acland, to complete it, even if I should be alive at the time.”</p> + +<p>“I know another man only too anxious to purchase,” said Acland; “but I +am deeply sorry for you—your child so ill, your own mission to +Queensland a failure.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, quite a failure. I won’t detain you any longer now. I may need +your services again presently.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie went from the lawyer’s house straight to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>his own in Belgrave +Square. It was in the hands of a caretaker. A seedy-looking man in a +rusty black coat opened the door. He did not know Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“I am the master,” said Ogilvie; “let me in, please.”</p> + +<p>The man stood aside.</p> + +<p>“Has a telegram come for me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, five minutes ago.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie tore it open, and read the contents.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Meeting of directors at one o’clock to-morrow, at Cannon +Street Hotel. Not necessary for you to be present unless you +wish. <span class="smcap">GRAYLEIGH</span>.”</p></div> + +<p>Ogilvie crushed up the telegram, and turned to the man.</p> + +<p>“I shall sleep here to-night,” Ogilvie said, “and shall be back in the +course of the evening.”</p> + +<p>He then went to his bank. It was within half-an-hour of closing. He +saw one of the managers who happened to be a friend of his. The +manager welcomed him back with effusion, and then made the usual +remark about his changed appearance.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie put his troublesome questions aside.</p> + +<p>“I had an interview with you just before I went to Queensland,” he +said, “and I then placed, with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>a special note for your instructions +in case anything happened to me, a sum of money in the bank.”</p> + +<p>“A large sum, Ogilvie—ten thousand pounds.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ten thousand pounds,” repeated Ogilvie. “I want to withdraw the +money.”</p> + +<p>“It is a considerable sum to withdraw at once, but as it is not on +deposit you can have it.”</p> + +<p>“I thought it only fair to give you a few hours’ notice. I shall call +for it to-morrow about ten o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“Do you wish to take it in a cheque?”</p> + +<p>“I think not, I should prefer notes.” Ogilvie added a few more words, +and then went back to his own house.</p> + +<p>At last everything was in train. He uttered a sigh of relief. The +house looked gloomy and dismantled, but for that very reason it suited +his feelings. Some of the furniture had been removed to Silverbel, and +the place was dusty. His study in particular looked forbidding, some +ashes from the last fire ever made there still remained in the grate. +He wondered if anyone had ever entered the study since he last sat +there and struggled with temptation and yielded to it.</p> + +<p>He went up to his own room, which had been hastily prepared for him, +and looked around him in a forlorn way. He then quickly mounted +another <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>flight of stairs, and found himself at last in the room where +his little daughter used to sleep. The moment he entered this room he +was conscious of a sensation of comfort. The worldliness of all the +rest of the house fell away in this sweet, simply furnished chamber. +He sat down near the little empty bed, pressed his hand over his eyes, +and gave himself up to thought.</p> + +<p>Nobody knew how long he sat there. The caretaker and his wife took no +notice. They were busy down in the kitchen. It mattered nothing at all +to them whether Ogilvie were in the house or not. He breathed a +conscious sigh of relief. He was glad to be alone, and the spirit of +his little daughter seemed close to him. He had something hard to go +through, and terrible agony would be his as he accomplished his task. +He knew that he should have to walk through fire, and the fire would +not be brief nor quickly over. Step by step his wounded feet must +tread. By no other road was there redemption. He did not shirk the +inevitable. On the contrary, his mind was made up.</p> + +<p>“By no other road can I clasp her hand in the Eternity which lies +beyond this present life,” he thought. “I deserve the pain and the +shame, I deserve all. There are times when a man comes face to face +with God. It is fearful when his God is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>angry with him. My God is +angry—the pains of hell take hold of me.”</p> + +<p>He walked to the window and looked out. It is doubtful if he saw much. +Suddenly beside the little empty bed he fell on his knees, buried his +face in his hands and a sob rose to his throat.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>On the following day, shortly before one o’clock, the directors of the +Lombard Deeps Company assembled in one of the big rooms of the Cannon +Street Hotel. Lord Grayleigh, the Chairman, had not yet arrived. The +rest of the directors sat around a long, green baize table and talked +eagerly one to the other. They formed a notable gathering, including +many of the astutest financiers in the city. As they sat and waited +for Grayleigh to appear, they eagerly discussed the prospects of the +new venture. While they talked their spirits rose, and had any outside +spectator been present he would have guessed that they had already +made up their minds to an enormous success.</p> + +<p>Just on the stroke of one Grayleigh, carrying a roll of documents in +his hand, entered the room. There was a lull in the conversation as he +nodded to one and another of his acquaintances, went quickly up the +room and took his seat at the head of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span>table. Here he arranged his +papers and held a short consultation with the secretary, a tall man of +about fifty years of age. There was a short pause and then Lord +Grayleigh rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen,” he began, “although, as you know, I have been and am +still chairman of several companies, I can say without hesitation that +never have I presided at a meeting of the directors of any company +before which had such brilliant prospects. It is my firm conviction, +and I hope to impress you all with a similar feeling, that the Lombard +Deeps Mining Company has a great career before it.”</p> + +<p>Expressions of satisfaction rose from one or two present.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh proceeded: “This I can frankly say is largely due to +our having secured the services of Mr. Philip Ogilvie as our assayer, +but I regret to have to tell you all that, although he has returned to +England, he is not likely to be present to-day. A very serious +domestic calamity which ought to claim your deepest sympathy is the +cause of his absence, but his report in detail I shall now have the +pleasure of submitting to you.”</p> + +<p>Here Lord Grayleigh took up the document which had been signed by +Ogilvie and Rycroft at the Waharoo Hotel at Brisbane. He proceeded to +read it aloud, emphasizing the words which spoke of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span>value of the +veins of gold beneath the alluvial deposit.</p> + +<p>“This report,” he said in conclusion, “is vouched for by the +signatures of my friend Ogilvie and also by James Rycroft, who is +nearly as well known in Queensland as Ogilvie is in London.”</p> + +<p>As detail after detail of the brilliantly worded document which +Ogilvie and Rycroft had compounded with such skill, fell upon the ears +of Lord Grayleigh’s audience, satisfaction not unmixed with avarice +lit up the eyes of many. Accustomed as most of these men were to +assayers’ reports, what they now listened to unfeignedly astonished +them. There was a great silence in the room, and not the slightest +word from Lord Grayleigh’s clear voice was lost.</p> + +<p>When he had finished he laid the document on the table and was just +about, as he expressed it, to proceed to business when a movement at +the door caused all to turn their heads. Ogilvie had unexpectedly +entered the room.</p> + +<p>Cries of welcome greeted him and many hands were stretched out. He +contented himself, however, with bowing slightly, and going up the +room handed Lord Grayleigh a packet.</p> + +<p>“Don’t open it now,” he said in a low voice, “it is for yourself, and +carries its own explanation with it.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p><p>He then turned and faced the directors. There was something about his +demeanor and an indescribable look on his face, which caused the +murmurs of applause to die away and silence once more to fill the +room.</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh slipped the small packet into his pocket and also rose +to his feet.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie’s attitude and manner disturbed him. A sensation as though of +coming calamity seemed to weigh the air. Lord Grayleigh was the first +to speak.</p> + +<p>“We are all glad to welcome you back, Ogilvie,” he said. “In more +senses than one we are pleased that you are able to be present just +now. I have just been reading your report to these gentlemen. I had +finished it when you entered the room.”</p> + +<p>“It is an admirable and brilliant account of the mine, Mr. Ogilvie,” +said a director from the far end of the table. “I congratulate you not +only on the good news it contains, but on the excellent manner in +which you have put details together. The Lombard Deeps will be the +best thing in the market, and we shall not need for capital to work +the mine to the fullest extent.”</p> + +<p>“Will you permit me to look at my report for a moment, Lord +Grayleigh?” said Ogilvie, in a grave tone.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p><p>Grayleigh gave it to him. Ogilvie took it in his hand.</p> + +<p>“I have come here to-day,” he said, “to speak for a moment”—his voice +was husky; he cleared his throat, and went on—“to perform a painful +business, to set wrong right. I am prepared, gentlemen, for your +opprobrium. You think well of me now, you will not do so long. I have +come here to speak to you of <span style="white-space: nowrap;">that——”</span></p> + +<p>“Sit down,” said Grayleigh’s voice behind him. “You must be mad. +Remember yourself.” He laid his hand on Ogilvie’s arm. Ogilvie shook +it off.</p> + +<p>“I can tell you, gentlemen, what I have come to say in a few words,” +he continued. “This report which I drew up, and which I signed, is as +<i>false as hell</i>.”</p> + +<p>“False?” echoed a voice in the distance, a thin voice from a +foreign-looking man. “Impossible!”</p> + +<p>“It is false,” continued Ogilvie. “I wrote the report and I ought to +know. I spent three weeks at the Lombard Deeps Mine. There were no +rich veins of gold; there was a certain alluvial deposit, which for a +time, a few months, might yield five ounces to the ton. I wrote the +report for a motive which no longer exists. God Himself smote me for +my infamous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>work. Gentlemen, you can do with me exactly as you think +fit, but this report, signed by me, shall never go before the world.”</p> + +<p>As he said the last words he hastily tore away his own signature, +crushed it in his hands and, crossing the room, threw it into a small +fire which was burning in the grate.</p> + +<p>This action was the signal for great excitement on the part of most of +the directors. Others poured out floods of questions. Lord Grayleigh +alone remained quietly seated in his chair, but his face was white, +and for the time he was scarcely conscious of what he was doing.</p> + +<p>“I have no excuse to offer,” continued Ogilvie, “and I refuse to +inculpate anyone with myself in this matter. This was my own concern; +I thought out the report, I worded it, I signed it. Rycroft was more +or less my tool. In the moment of my so-called victory God smote me. +You can do with me just as you please, but the Lombard Deeps Company +must collapse. I have nothing further to say.”</p> + +<p>He left the room, dropping the now worthless document on to the table +as he did so. No one interrupted him or prevented his exit. As his +footsteps died away on the stairs the discomfited and astonished +directors looked one at the other.</p> + +<p>“What is the meaning of it all?” said one, going <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>up to Grayleigh; +“you are chairman, and you ought to know.”</p> + +<p>Grayleigh shook himself and stood up.</p> + +<p>“This must be a brief madness,” he said; “there is no other way to +account for it. Ogilvie, of all men under the sun! Gentlemen, you know +his character, you know what his name was worth as our engineer, but +there is one other thing you do not know. The poor fellow has a child, +only one, to whom he is devoted. I heard this morning that the child +is dying. Under such circumstances his mind may have been unhinged. +Let me follow him. I will return after I have said a word to him.”</p> + +<p>The chairman left the room, ran quickly downstairs and out into the +street. Ogilvie had hailed a hansom and was getting into it.</p> + +<p>“One moment first,” said Grayleigh.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” asked Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>“An explanation.”</p> + +<p>“I gave it upstairs.”</p> + +<p>“You are mad—you are mad.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, I believe that I am sane—sane at last. I grant you +I was mad when I signed the report, but I am sane now.”</p> + +<p>“What packet was that you gave me?”</p> + +<p>“Your money back.”</p> + +<p>“The ten thousand pounds?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p><p>“Yes; I did not want it. I have delivered my soul, and nothing else +matters.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me at least one thing. Is this strange action on your part owing +to the child’s accident?”</p> + +<p>“It is. I was going headlong down to hell, but God, through her, has +pulled me up short. Gold is utterly valueless to me now. The child is +dying, and I cannot part with her for all eternity. You can draw your +own conclusions.”</p> + +<p>As Ogilvie spoke he shook Grayleigh’s detaining hand from his arm. The +chairman of the Lombard Deeps Company stood still for a moment, then +returned to the directors.</p> + +<p>As Grayleigh walked slowly upstairs he had a moment’s conflict with +his own conscience. In one thing at least Ogilvie was generous. He had +not dragged Lord Grayleigh to the earth in his own fall. The affair of +the ten thousand pounds was known to no one else.</p> + +<p>“He fell, and I caused him to fall,” thought Lord Grayleigh. “In the +moment of his fall, if I were even half a man, I would stand by him +and acknowledge my share in the matter. But no; where would be the +use? I cannot drag my children through the mire. Poor Ogilvie is +losing his child, and for him practically life is over.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p><p>Grayleigh re-entered the room where the directors waited for him.</p> + +<p>“I saw Ogilvie just now,” he said, “and he sticks to his story. I +fear, too, that I was wrong in my conjecture with regard to his +madness. He must have had a temporary madness when he drew up and +signed the false report. I suppose we ought to consider ourselves +lucky.”</p> + +<p>“At least the widows and orphans won’t be ruined,” said one of the +directors, a thin-faced anxious-looking man. “Well, of course, Lord +Grayleigh, we must all wash our hands of this.”</p> + +<p>“We must do so advisedly,” was Grayleigh’s remark; “remember, we have +gone far. Remember, the cablegram was not kept too secret, and the +knowledge of the excellent report sent by Ogilvie has got to the ears +of one or two city editors. He must give out that there was a +misunderstanding as to the value of the mine.”</p> + +<p>“And what of Ogilvie himself?” said an angry-looking man. “Such +infamous conduct requires stringent measures. Do you gentlemen share +my views?”</p> + +<p>One or two did, but most protested against dragging Ogilvie’s story +too prominently into the light of day.</p> + +<p>“It may reflect on ourselves,” said one or two. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>“It is just possible +there may be some people who will not believe that he was alone in +this matter.”</p> + +<p>Lord Grayleigh was the last to speak.</p> + +<p>“If I were you, gentlemen,” he said, moodily, “I would leave Ogilvie +to his God.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<p>“Philip!” said Mrs. Ogilvie, as he re-entered pretty Silverbel about +four o’clock that afternoon, “I have just had an extraordinary +telegram from our lawyer, Mr. Acland.”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie looked full at her but did not speak.</p> + +<p>“How strangely tired and worn you look,” she replied; “what can be the +matter with you? Sometimes, when I think of you and the extraordinary +way in which you are acting, I come to the conclusion that your brain +cannot be right.”</p> + +<p>“You are wrong there, Mildred. There was a time when not only my brain +but all my moral qualities were affected, but I believe these things +are put right at last.”</p> + +<p>He gave a hollow laugh.</p> + +<p>“I am enjoying, for the first time for many months, the applause of an +approving conscience,” he continued; “that is something to live for.”</p> + +<p>“Have you done anything rash, Philip?”</p> + +<p>“I have done something which my conscience justifies. Now, what about +the telegram from Acland?”</p> + +<p>“He is coming here this evening to have a talk with me. What can he +have to say?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p><p>“Doubtless his visit is accounted for by an interview I had with him +yesterday. I asked him to explain matters to you, as you and he +conducted the business with regard to this place together. Mildred, +Silverbel must be given up.”</p> + +<p>Her face grew red with passion, she felt inclined to stamp her foot.</p> + +<p>“It cannot be,” she cried, “we have already paid two thousand pounds +deposit.”</p> + +<p>“That money was returned by me to Acland yesterday. He has doubtless +heard of another purchaser. It will be a lucky thing for us, Mildred, +if he takes the furniture as well as the place. Pray don’t keep me +now.”</p> + +<p>She gave a sharp cry and flung herself into a chair. Ogilvie paused as +if to speak to her, then changed his mind and went slowly upstairs. On +the landing outside Sibyl’s door he paused for a moment, struggling +with himself.</p> + +<p>“The bitterness of death lies before me,” he muttered, for he knew +that difficult as was the task which he had accomplished that morning +at the Cannon Street Hotel, terrible as was the moment when he stood +before his fellow men and branded himself as a felon, these things +were nothing, nothing at all to that which now lay before him, for God +demanded something more of the man—he must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>open the eyes of the +child who worshipped him. The thought of this awful task almost +paralyzed him; his heart beat with heavy throbs and the moisture stood +on his forehead. One look at Sibyl, however, lying whiter and sweeter +than ever in her little bed, restored to him that marvellous +self-control which love alone can give.</p> + +<p>Nurse was in the room, and it was evident that nurse had been having a +bout of crying. Her eyelids were red. She turned when she saw her +master, went up to him and shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Leave us for a little, nurse,” said Ogilvie.</p> + +<p>She went away at once.</p> + +<p>Ogilvie now approached the bed, dropped into a chair and took one of +Sibyl’s hands.</p> + +<p>“You have been a long time away, father,” said the child.</p> + +<p>“I have, my darling, I had a great deal to do.”</p> + +<p>“Business, father?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dearest, important business.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t look well,” said Sibyl. She gazed at him, apprehensively, +her blue eyes opened wide, and a spasm of pain flitted across her +brow.</p> + +<p>“I have had a hard time,” said the man, “and now, my little girl, I +have come to you, to you, my dearest, to perform the hardest task of +my life.”</p> + +<p>“To me, father? The hardest task of your life?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p><p>“Yes, my little daughter, I have something to say to you.”</p> + +<p>“Something bad?” asked Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Something very bad.”</p> + +<p>Sibyl shut her eyes for a minute, then she opened them and looked +steadily at her father, her childish lips became slightly compressed, +it was as if a world of strength suddenly entered her little frame, as +though, dying as she was, she was bracing herself to endure.</p> + +<p>“I am very sorry,” she said. “I love you so much. What is it, +darlingest father?”</p> + +<p>“Let me hold your hand,” he said. “It will be easier for me to tell +you something then.”</p> + +<p>She gave it to him. He clasped it in both of his, bent forward, and +began to speak.</p> + +<p>“At the moment, little Sibyl, when the cablegram which told me of your +accident was put into my hand, I had just done something so wicked, so +terrible, that God Himself, God Almighty, rose up and smote me.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand,” said the child.</p> + +<p>“I will explain. The cablegram told me that you were ill, very ill. I +wanted to undo what I had done, but it was too late. I hurried back to +you. God came with me on board the ship. God came, and He was angry; I +had a terrible time.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p><p>“Still I do not understand,” repeated Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“Let me speak, my dear girl. I reached home, and I saw you, and then a +temptation came to me. I wanted us both, you and I, to be happy +together for two days. I knew that at the end of that time I must open +your eyes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we were happy!” said the child.</p> + +<p>“Yes, for those two days we had peace, and we were, as you say, happy. +I put away from me the thought of that which was before me, but I knew +that it must come. It has come, Sibyl. The peace has been changed to +storm; and now, little girl, I am in the midst of the tempest; the +agony I feel in having to tell you this no words can explain.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you would try and ’splain, all the same,” said Sibyl, in a +weak, very weak voice.</p> + +<p>“I will, I must; it is wrong of me to torture you.”</p> + +<p>“It’s only ’cos of you yourself,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“Listen, my darling. You have often given thoughts to the Lombard +Deeps Mine?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes.” She raised herself a little on her pillow, and tried to +speak more cheerfully. “I have thought of it, the mine full, full of +gold, and all the people so happy!”</p> + +<p>Her voice grew quite animated.</p> + +<p>“Any special people, dearest?”</p> + +<p>“So many,” she replied. “I told Lord Grayleigh, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span>and he put their +names in his note-book. There’s Mr. and Mrs. Holman, the people who +keep the toy-shop; she has a hundred pounds, and she wants to buy some +of the gold.”</p> + +<p>“The old pair I saw coming to see you yesterday? Are they the Holmans? +Yes, I remember they told me that was their name.”</p> + +<p>“They came, father. I love ’em so much; and there’s Mr. Rochester and +Lady Helen, they want to marry. It’s a secret, but you may know. And +nurse, she wants some of the gold, ’cos her eyes ache, and you sent a +cablegram, father, and said the gold was there; it’s all right.”</p> + +<p>“No, Sibyl, it is all wrong; the gold is not in the mine.”</p> + +<p>“But you sent a cablegram.”</p> + +<p>“I did.”</p> + +<p>“And you said it was there.”</p> + +<p>“I did.”</p> + +<p>She paused and looked at him; her eyes grew full of pain; the pain +reached agony point.</p> + +<p>“You said it?”</p> + +<p>“I did worse,” said the man. He stood up, folded his arms across his +chest, and looked down at her. “I did worse, and to tell you is my +punishment. I not only sent that cablegram, but I wrote an account of +the mine, a false account, false as my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span>false heart was, Sibyl, and I +signed it with my name, for the gold I said was in the mine was not +there.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you do it, father?”</p> + +<p>“Because I was a scoundrel.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” asked Sibyl.</p> + +<p>“A bad man.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the child, “no, you was always my most <span style="white-space: nowrap;">perfect——”</span></p> + +<p>“You thought so, darling; you were wrong. Even when I went to +Queensland I was far from that. I could not bid you good-by before I +went, because of the sin which I was about to commit. I committed the +sin, I dropped away from honor, I let goodness go. I did that which +could never, never, under any circumstances, be worth doing, for there +is nothing worth evil, there is nothing worth sin, I see it now.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are sorry?”</p> + +<p>“I have repented,” he cried; “my God, I have repented,” and he fell on +his knees and covered his face. For the child’s sake he kept back the +sobs which rose to his throat.</p> + +<p>Sibyl looked at the bent head, at the dark hair already sprinkled with +gray. She lay quite still, there was not the slightest doubt that the +shock was great. Ogilvie waited, longing, wondering if the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span>little +hand would touch his head, if the child would forgive him.</p> + +<p>“She is so holy, so heavenly herself,” he murmured; “is it possible +that she can forgive? It must be a cruel shock to her.”</p> + +<p>The little, white hand did not touch him. There was complete stillness +in the room. At last he raised his eyes and looked at her. She looked +steadily back at him.</p> + +<p>“And so you was never perfect?” she said.</p> + +<p>“Never.”</p> + +<p>“And was mother never perfect?”</p> + +<p>“Not as you think of perfection, Sibyl, but we need not talk of her +now. I have sinned far more deeply than your poor mother has ever +done.”</p> + +<p>The puzzled expression grew deeper on Sibyl’s face. An old memory of +her mother returned to her. She saw again the scene, and recalled her +mother’s words, the words she had overheard, and which the mother had +denied. She was quite still for a full moment, the little clock on the +mantelpiece ticked loudly, then she said slowly:</p> + +<p>“And Lord Jesus, isn’t He perfect?”</p> + +<p>Ogilvie started when he heard her words.</p> + +<p>“Aye, He is perfect,” he answered, “you are safe in trusting to Him. +He is all that your dreams and all that your longings desire.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p><p>She smiled very faintly.</p> + +<p>“Why did He come into the world?” was her next question.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know that old story? Has no one told you?”</p> + +<p>“Won’t you tell me now, father?”</p> + +<p>“The old story was that Christ Jesus came into the world to save +sinners.”</p> + +<p>“Sinners,” repeated Sibyl, “’cos He loved ’em?”</p> + +<p>“Would He have done that for anything else, do you think?”</p> + +<p>“I ’spect not,” she replied, and again the faint smile filled her +eyes.</p> + +<p>“Then He loves <i>you</i>,” she said, after a moment. “He came from heaven +’cos of you.”</p> + +<p>“It seems like it, my little girl, and yet I cannot bring myself to +believe that He can love me.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t speak to me, father, for a minute; go away, and look out of the +window, and come back when I call you.”</p> + +<p>He rose at once, crossed the room, and stood looking out. In a short +time the feeble voice called him back.</p> + +<p>“Father!” There was a change in the face, the look of pain had +vanished, the sweet eyes were as peaceful as ever, and more clearly +than ever did that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>amazing knowledge and comprehension fill them, +which never belonged to this earth.</p> + +<p>“Kneel down, father,” said Sibyl.</p> + +<p>He knelt.</p> + +<p>Now she laid her little hand in his, and now she smiled at him, and +now, as if she were strong and well again, she stroked his hand with +her other hand, and at last she feebly raised the hand and pressed it +to her lips.</p> + +<p>“I am loving you so much,” she said, “same as Jesus loves you, I +think.”</p> + +<p>Then Ogilvie did give a sob. He checked it as it rose to his throat.</p> + +<p>“It is all right,” she continued, “I love you. Jesus is perfect ... +and He loves you.”</p> + +<p>“But do you, Sibyl, really love me the same as ever?” he asked, and +there was a note of incredulity in his voice.</p> + +<p>“Seems to me I love you more’n ever” was her answer, and the next +instant her soft arms encircled his neck, and he felt her kisses on +his cheek.</p> + +<p>But suddenly, without warning, there came a change. There was a catch +in the eager, quick breath, the arms relaxed their hold, the little +head fell back on the pillow, the face almost rosy a moment back was +now white, but the eyes were radiant and full of a wonderful, +astonished light.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p><p>“Why,” cried Sibyl, “it’s Lord Jesus! He has come. He is here, looking +at me.” She gazed toward the foot of the bed, her eyes were raised +slightly upward each moment the ecstatic expression grew and grew in +their depths.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my beautiful Lord Jesus,” she whispered. “Oh, take me.” She tried +to raise her arms and her eyes were fixed on a vision which Ogilvie +could not see. There was just an instant of absolute stillness, then +the clear voice spoke again.</p> + +<p>“Take me, Lord Jesus Christ, but first, afore we go, kiss father, and +tell him you love him.”</p> + +<p>The eager lips were still, but the light, too wonderful for this +mortal life, continued to fill the eyes.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Ogilvie that great wings encircled him, that he was +wrapped in an infinite peace. Then it seemed also as if a kiss sweet +beyond all sweetness brushed his lips.</p> + +<p>The next instant all was cold and lonely.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<p>There is such a thing in life as turning straight round and going the +other way. This was what happened to Philip Ogilvie after the death of +Sibyl. All his life hitherto he had been on the downward plane. He was +now decidedly on the upward. The upward path was difficult, and his +feet were tired and his spirits sore, and often he faltered and +flagged and almost stopped, but he never once went back. He turned no +look toward the easy way which leads to destruction, for at the top of +the path which he was now climbing, he ever and always saw his child +waiting for him, nor did he feel even here on earth that his spirit +was really far from hers. Her influence still surrounded him—her +voice spoke to him in the summer breeze—her face looked at him out of +the flowers, and her smile met him in the sunshine.</p> + +<p>He had a rough time to go through, but he endured everything for her +sake. By degrees his worldly affairs were put into some sort of order, +and so far as his friends and society went he vanished from view. But +none of these things mattered to him now. He was living on earth, it +is true; but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>all the ordinary earth desires had died within him. The +spiritual life, however, did not die. Day by day it grew stronger and +braver; so it came to pass that his sympathies, instead of dwindling +and becoming small and narrow, widened, until once more he loved and +once more he hoped.</p> + +<p>He became very tolerant for others now, and especially was he tolerant +to his wife.</p> + +<p>He bore with her small ways, pitied her grief, admitted to himself +that there were limits in her nature which no power could alter, and +did his best to make her happy.</p> + +<p>She mourned and grieved and grieved and mourned for that which meant +nothing at all to him, but he was patient with her, and she owned to +herself that she loved him more in his adversity than she had done in +his prosperity.</p> + +<p>For Sibyl’s sake, too, Ogilvie roused himself to do what he could for +her special friends. There was a tiny fund which he had once put aside +for his child’s education, and this he now spent in starting a shop +for the Holmans in Buckingham Palace Road. He made them a present of +the shop, and helped them to stock it with fresh toys. The old pair +did well there, they prospered and their trade was good, but they +never forgot Sibyl, and their favorite talk in the evenings as they +sat side by side together was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>to revive memories of the little, old +shop and the child who used to buy the dusty toys.</p> + +<p>As to Lord Grayleigh, Philip Ogilvie and he never met after that day +outside the Cannon Street Hotel. The fact is, a gulf divided them; for +although both men to a great extent repented of what they had done, +yet there was a wide difference in their repentance—one had acted +with the full courage of his convictions, the other still led a life +of honor before his fellow-men, but his heart was not straight with +God.</p> + +<p>Grayleigh and Ogilvie, therefore, with the knowledge that each knew +the innermost motives of the other, could not meet nor be friends. +Nevertheless Sibyl had influenced Grayleigh. For her sake he ceased to +be chairman of several somewhat shady companies, and lived more than +he had done before in his own place, Grayleigh Manor, and surrounded +by his children. He was scarcely heard to mention Sibyl’s name after +her death.</p> + +<p>But amongst his treasures he still keeps that little old note-book in +which she begged of him to enter her special wishes, and so much +affected was he in his heart of hearts, by her childish words, that he +used his utmost influence and got a good diplomatic appointment for +Rochester, thus enabling him and Lady Helen to marry, although not by +the means which Sibyl had suggested.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p><p>These things happened a few years ago, and Ogilvie is still alive, +but, although he lives still on earth, he also waits on the verge of +life, knowing that at any hour, any moment, day or night, the message +may come for him to go, and in his dreams he believes that the first +to meet him at the Gates will be the child he loves.</p> + +<h3>[THE END.]</h3> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<div class="centerbox2 bbox"><h2>A. L. Burt’s Catalogue of Books for Young People by Popular Writers,<br /> +52-58 Duane Street, New York</h2> + +<p><b>BOOKS FOR GIRLS</b></p> + +<p><b>Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.</b> By <span class="smcap">Lewis Carroll.</span> 12mo, cloth, 42 +illustrations, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“From first to last, almost without exception, this story is +delightfully droll, humorous and illustrated in harmony with the +story.”—<b>New York Express.</b></p> + +<p><b>Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There.</b> By <span class="smcap">Lewis +Carroll</span>. 12mo, cloth, 50 illustrations, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“A delight alike to the young people and their elders, extremely funny +both in text and illustrations.”—<b>Boston Express.</b></p> + +<p><b>Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charlotte M. Yonge.</span> 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“This story is unique among tales intended for children, alike for +pleasant instruction, quaintness of humor, gentle pathos, and the +subtlety with which lessons moral and otherwise are conveyed to +children, and perhaps to their seniors as well.”—<b>The Spectator.</b></p> + +<p><b>Joan’s Adventures at the North Pole and Elsewhere.</b> By <span class="smcap">Alice Corkran.</span> +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“Wonderful as the adventures of Joan are, it must be admitted that +they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. +Altogether this is an excellent story for girls.”—<b>Saturday Review.</b></p> + +<p><b>Count Up the Sunny Days: A Story for Girls and Boys.</b> By <span class="smcap">C. A. Jones.</span> +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“An unusually good children’s story.”—<b>Glasgow Herald.</b></p> + +<p><b>The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charlotte M. Yonge.</span> 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Among all the modern writers we believe Miss Yonge first, not in +genius, but in this, that she employs her great abilities for a high +and noble purpose. We know of few modern writers whose works may be so +safely commended as hers.”—<b>Cleveland Times.</b></p> + +<p><b>Jan of the Windmill.</b> A Story of the Plains. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. J. H. Ewing.</span> 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Never has Mrs. Ewing published a more charming volume, and that is +saying a very great deal. From the first to the last the book +overflows with the strange knowledge of child-nature which so rarely +survives childhood; and moreover, with inexhaustible quiet humor, +which is never anything but innocent and well-bred, never priggish, +and never clumsy.”—<b>Academy.</b></p> + +<p><b>A Sweet Girl Graduate.</b> By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade.</span> 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“One of this popular author’s best. The characters are well imagined +and drawn. The story moves with plenty of spirit and the interest does +not flag until the end too quickly comes.”—<b>Providence Journal.</b></p> + +<p><b>Six to Sixteen</b>: A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Juliana Horatia Ewing</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“There is no doubt as to the good quality and attractiveness of ‘Six +to Sixteen.’ The book is one which would enrich any girl’s book +shelf.”—<b>St. James’ Gazette.</b></p> + +<p><b>The Palace Beautiful</b>: A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“A bright and interesting story. The many admirers of Mrs. L. T. Meade +in this country will be delighted with the ‘Palace Beautiful’ for more +reasons than one. It is a charming book for girls.”—<b>New York +Recorder.</b></p> + +<p><b>A World of Girls</b>: The Story of a School. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“One of those wholesome stories which it does one good to read. It +will afford pure delight to numerous readers. This book should be on +every girl’s book shelf.”—<b>Boston Home Journal.</b></p> + +<p><b>The Lady of the Forest</b>: A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“This story is written in the author’s well-known, fresh and easy +style. All girls fond of reading will be charmed by this well-written +story. It is told with the author’s customary grace and +spirit.”—<b>Boston Times.</b></p> + +<p><b>At the Back of the North Wind.</b> By <span class="smcap">George Macdonald</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“A very pretty story, with much of the freshness and vigor of Mr. +Macdonald’s earlier work.... It is a sweet, earnest, and wholesome +fairy story, and the quaint native humor is delightful. A most +delightful volume for young readers.”—<b>Philadelphia Times.</b></p> + +<p><b>The Water Babies</b>: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. By <span class="smcap">Charles Kingsley</span>. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“The strength of his work, as well as its peculiar charms, consist in +his description of the experiences of a youth with life under water in +the luxuriant wealth of which he revels with all the ardor of a +poetical nature.”—<b>New York Tribune.</b></p> + +<p><b>Our Bessie.</b> By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>“One of the most entertaining stories of the season, full of vigorous +action, and strong in character-painting. Elder girls will be charmed +with it, and adults may read its pages with profit.”—<b>The Teachers’ +Aid.</b></p> + +<p><b>Wild Kitty.</b> A Story of Middleton School. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Kitty is a true heroine—warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all +good women nowadays are, largely touched with the enthusiasm of +humanity. One of the most attractive gift books of the season.”—<b>The +Academy.</b></p> + +<p><b>A Young Mutineer.</b> A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“One of Mrs. Meade’s charming books for girls, narrated in that simple +and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first +among writers for young people.”—<b>The Spectator.</b></p> + +<p><b>Sue and I.</b> By <span class="smcap">Mrs. O’Reilly</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“A thoroughly delightful book, full of sound wisdom as well as +fun.”<b>—Athenæum</b>.</p> + +<p><b>The Princess and the Goblin.</b> A Fairy Story. By <span class="smcap">George Macdonald</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“If a child once begins this book, it will get so deeply interested in +it that when bedtime comes it will altogether forget the moral, and +will weary its parents with importunities for just a few minutes more +to see how everything ends.”—<b>Saturday Review</b>.</p> + +<p><b>Pythia’s Pupils:</b> A Story of a School. By <span class="smcap">Eva Hartner</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“This story of the doings of several bright school girls is sure to +interest girl readers. Among many good stories for girls this is +undoubtedly one of the very best.”—<b>Teachers’ Aid</b>.</p> + +<p><b>A Story of a Short Life.</b> By <span class="smcap">Juliana Horatia Ewing</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“The book is one we can heartily recommend, for it is not only bright +and interesting, but also pure and healthy in tone and +teaching.”—<b>Courier</b>.</p> + +<p><b>The Sleepy King.</b> A Fairy Tale. By <span class="smcap">Aubrey Hopwood and Seymour Hicks</span>. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“Wonderful as the adventures of Bluebell are, it must be admitted that +they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. +Altogether this is an excellent story for girls.”—<b>Saturday Review</b>.</p> + +<p><b>Two Little Waifs.</b> By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price +75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“Mrs. Molesworth’s delightful story of ‘Two Little Waifs’ will charm +all the small people who find it in their stockings. It relates the +adventures of two lovable English children lost in Paris, and is just +wonderful enough to pleasantly wring the youthful heart.”—<b>New York +Tribune</b>.</p> + +<p><b>Adventures in Toyland.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edith King Hall</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“The author is such a bright, cheery writer, that her stories are +always acceptable to all who are not confirmed cynics, and her record +of the adventures is as entertaining and enjoyable as we might +expect.”—<b>Boston Courier</b>.</p> + +<p><b>Adventures in Wallypug land.</b> By G. E. <span class="smcap">Farrow</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“These adventures are simply inimitable, and will delight boys and +girls of mature age, as well as their juniors. No happier combination +of author and artist than this volume presents could be found to +furnish healthy amusement to the young folks. The book is an artistic +one in every sense.”—<b>Toronto Mail</b>.</p> + +<p><b>Fussbudget’s Folks.</b> A Story for Young Girls. By <span class="smcap">Anna F. Burnham</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Mrs. Burnham has a rare gift for composing stories for children. With +a light, yet forcible touch, she paints sweet and artless, yet natural +and strong, characters.”—<b>Congregationalist</b>.</p> + +<p><b>Mixed Pickles.</b> A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. E. M. Field</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“It is, in its way, a little classic, of which the real beauty and +pathos can hardly be appreciated by young people. It is not too much +to say of the story that it is perfect of its kind.”—<b>Good Literature.</b></p> + +<p><b>Miss Mouse and Her Boys.</b> A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 Cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“Mrs. Molesworth’s books are cheery, wholesome, and particularly well +adapted to refined life. It is safe to add that she is the best +English prose writer for children. A new volume from Mrs. Molesworth +is always a treat.”—<b>The Beacon.</b></p> + +<p><b>Gilly Flower.</b> A Story for Girls. By the author of “Miss Toosey’s +Mission.” 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Jill is a little guardian angel to three lively brothers who tease +and play with her.... Her unconscious goodness brings right thoughts +and resolves to several persons who come into contact with her. There +is no goodiness in this tale, but its influence is of the best +kind.”—<b>Literary World.</b></p> + +<p><b>The Chaplet of Pearls</b>; or, The White and Black Ribaumont. By <span class="smcap">Charlotte +M. Yonge</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. It is one of the best books +of the season.”—<b>Guardian.</b></p> + +<p><b>Naughty Miss Bunny</b>: Her Tricks and Troubles. By <span class="smcap">Clara Mulholland</span>. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“The naughty child is positively delightful. Papas should not omit the +book from their list of juvenile presents.”—<b>Land and Water.</b></p> + +<p><b>Meg’s Friend.</b> By <span class="smcap">Alice Corkran</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“One of Miss Corkran’s charming books for girls, narrated in that +simple and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the +first among writers for young people.”—<b>The Spectator.</b></p> + +<p><b>Averil.</b> By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“A charming story for young folks. Averil is a delightful +creature—piquant, tender, and true—and her varying fortunes are +perfectly realistic.”—<b>World.</b></p> + +<p><b>Aunt Diana.</b> By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last. +This is, both in its intention and the way the story is told, one of +the best books of its kind which has come before us this +year.”—<b>Saturday Review.</b></p> + +<p><b>Little Sunshine’s Holiday</b>: A Picture from Life. By <span class="smcap">Miss Mulock</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“This is a pretty narrative of child life, describing the simple +doings and sayings of a very charming and rather precocious child. +This is a delightful book for young people.”—<b>Gazette.</b></p> + +<p><b>Esther’s Charge.</b> A Story for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Ellen Everett Green</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“... This is a story showing in a charming way how one little girl’s +jealousy and bad temper were conquered; one of the best, most +suggestive and improving of the Christmas juveniles.”—<b>New York +Tribune.</b></p> + +<p><b>Fairy Land of Science.</b> By <span class="smcap">Arabella B. Buckley</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“We can highly recommend it; not only for the valuable information it +gives on the special subjects to which it is dedicated, but also as a +book teaching natural sciences in an interesting way. A fascinating +little volume, which will make friends in every household in which +there are children.”—<b>Daily News.</b></p> + +<p><b>Merle’s Crusade.</b> By <span class="smcap">Rosa N. Carey</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Among the books for young people we have seen nothing more unique +than this book. Like all of this author’s stories it will please young +readers by the very attractive and charming style in which it is +written.”—<b>Journal.</b></p> + +<p><b>Birdie:</b> A Tale of Child Life. By <span class="smcap">H. L. Childe-Pemberton</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“The story is quaint and simple, but there is a freshness about it +that makes one hear again the ringing laugh and the cheery shout of +children at play which charmed his earlier years.”—<b>New York Express.</b></p> + +<p><b>The Days of Bruce:</b> A Story from Scottish History. By <span class="smcap">Grace Aguilar</span>. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“There is a delightful freshness, sincerity and vivacity about all of +Grace Aguilar’s stories which cannot fail to win the interest and +admiration of every lover of good reading.”—<b>Boston Beacon.</b></p> + +<p><b>Three Bright Girls:</b> A Story of Chance and Mischance. By <span class="smcap">Annie E. +Armstrong</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>“The charm of the story lies in the cheery helpfulness of spirit +developed in the girls by their changed circumstances; while the +author finds a pleasant ending to all their happy makeshifts. The +story is charmingly told, and the book can be warmly recommended as a +present for girls.”—<b>Standard.</b></p> + +<p><b>Giannetta:</b> A Girl’s Story of Herself. By <span class="smcap">Rosa Mulholland</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Extremely well told and full of interest. Giannetta is a true +heroine—warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all good women +nowadays are, largely touched with enthusiasm of humanity. The +illustrations are unusually good. One of the most attractive gift +books of the season.”—<b>The Academy.</b></p> + +<p><b>Margery Merton’s Girlhood.</b> By <span class="smcap">Alice Corkran</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“The experiences of an orphan girl who in infancy is left by her +father to the care of an elderly aunt residing near Paris. The +accounts of the various persons who have an after influence on the +story are singularly vivid. There is a subtle attraction about the +book which will make it a great favorite with thoughtful +girls.”—<b>Saturday Review.</b></p> + +<p><b>Under False Colors:</b> A Story from Two Girls’ Lives. By <span class="smcap">Sarah Doudney</span>. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">“Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned stories—pure +in style, original in conception, and with skillfully wrought out +plots; but we have seen nothing equal in dramatic energy to this +book.”—<b>Christian Leader.</b></p> + +<p><b>Down the Snow Stairs</b>; or, From Good-night to Good-morning. By <span class="smcap">Alice +Corkran</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“Among all the Christmas volumes which the year has brought to our +table this one stands out facile princeps—a gem of the first water, +bearing upon every one of its pages the signet mark of genius.... All +is told with such simplicity and perfect naturalness that the dream +appears to be a solid reality. It is indeed a Little Pilgrim’s +Progress.”—<b>Christian Leader.</b></p> + +<p><b>The Tapestry Room</b>: A Child’s Romance. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“Mrs. Molesworth is a charming painter of the nature and ways of +children; and she has done good service in giving us this charming +juvenile which will delight the young people.”—<b>Athenæum, London.</b></p> + +<p><b>Little Miss Peggy:</b> Only a Nursery Story. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">Mrs. Molesworth’s children are finished studies. A joyous earnest +spirit pervades her work, and her sympathy is unbounded. She loves +them with her whole heart, while she lays bare their little minds, and +expresses their foibles, their faults, their virtues, their inward +struggles, their conception of duty, and their instinctive knowledge +of the right and wrong of things. She knows their characters, she +understands their wants, and she desires to help them.</p> + +<p><b>Polly</b>: A New Fashioned Girl. By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price $1.00.</p> + +<p class="n">Few authors have achieved a popularity equal to Mrs. Meade as a writer +of stories for young girls. Her characters are living beings of flesh +and blood, not lay figures of conventional type. Into the trials and +crosses, and everyday experiences, the reader enters at once with zest +and hearty sympathy. While Mrs. Meade always writes with a high moral +purpose, her lessons of life, purity and nobility of character are +rather inculcated by example than intruded as sermons.</p> + +<p><b>One of a Covey.</b> By the author of “Miss Toosey’s Mission.” 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. This ‘Covey’ consists of the +twelve children of a hard-pressed Dr. Partridge out of which is chosen +a little girl to be adopted by a spoiled, fine lady. We have rarely +read a story for boys and girls with greater pleasure. One of the +chief characters would not have disgraced Dickens’ pen.”—<span class="smcap"><b>Literary +World.</b></span></p> + +<p><b>The Little Princess of Tower Hill.</b> By <span class="smcap">L. T. Meade</span>. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents.</p> + +<p class="n">“This is one of the prettiest books for children published, as pretty +as a pond-lily, and quite as fragrant. Nothing could be imagined more +attractive to young people than such a combination of fresh pages and +fair pictures; and while children will rejoice over it—which is much +better than crying for it—it is a book that can be read with pleasure +even by older boys and girls.”—<b>Boston Advertiser.</b></p> + +<p>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by +the publisher, <b>A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.</b></p></div> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Notes:</span></h3> + +<p>1. Minor changes have been made to correct obvious typesetter’s +errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the +author’s words and intent.</p> + +<p>2. The original of this book did not have a Table of Contents; one has been +added for the reader’s convenience.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Daddy's Girl, by L. T. Meade + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DADDY'S GIRL *** + +***** This file should be named 30333-h.htm or 30333-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/3/3/30333/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, D Alexander and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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T. Meade + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Daddy's Girl + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: October 25, 2009 [EBook #30333] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DADDY'S GIRL *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, D Alexander and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + DADDY'S GIRL + + BY L. T. MEADE + + Author of "A Very Naughty Girl," "Polly, A New Fashioned + Girl," "Palace Beautiful," "Sweet Girl Graduate," + "World of Girls," etc., etc. + + "Suffer the little children to come unto me." + + A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS + 52-58 DUANE STREET, NEW YORK. + + + + +[Illustration: DADDY'S GIRL. _Frontispiece._] + + + + +DADDY'S GIRL. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +Philip Ogilvie and his pretty wife were quarrelling, as their custom +was, in the drawing-room of the great house in Belgrave Square, but +the Angel in the nursery upstairs knew nothing at all about that. She +was eight years old, and was, at that critical moment when her father +and mother were having words which might embitter all their lives, and +perhaps sever them for ever, unconsciously and happily decorating +herself before the nursery looking-glass. + +The occasion was an important one, and the Angel's rosebud lips were +pursed up in her anxiety, and her dark, pretty brows were somewhat +raised, and her very blue eyes were fixed on her own charming little +reflection. + +"Shall it be buttercups, or daisies, or both?" thought the Angel to +herself. + +A box of wild flowers, which had come up from the country that day, +lay handy. There were violets and primroses, and quantities of +buttercups and daisies, amongst these treasures. + +"Mother likes me when I am pretty, father likes me anyhow," she +thought, and then she stood and contemplated herself, and pensively +took up a bunch of daisies and held them against her small, slightly +flushed cheek, and then tried the effect of the buttercups in her +golden brown hair. By-and-by, she skipped away from the looking-glass, +and ran up to a tall, somewhat austere lady, who was seated at a round +table, writing busily. + +"What do you want, Sibyl? Don't disturb me now," said this individual. + +"It is only just for a moment," replied the Angel, knitting her brows, +and standing in such a position that she excluded all light from +falling on the severe-looking lady's writing-pad. + +"Which is the prettiest, buttercups or daisies, or the two twisted up +together?" she said. + +"Oh, don't worry me, child, I want to catch this post. My brother is +very ill, and he'll be so annoyed if he doesn't hear from me. Did you +say buttercups and daisies mixed? Yes, of course, mix them, that is +the old nursery rhyme." + +The little Sibyl stamped a small foot encased in a red shoe with an +impatient movement, and turned once more to contemplate herself in +the glass. Miss Winstead, the governess, resumed her letter, and a +clock on the mantelpiece struck out seven silvery chimes. + +"They'll be going in to dinner; I must be very quick indeed," thought +the child. She began to pull out the flowers, to arrange them in +little groups, and presently, by the aid of numerous pins, to deck her +small person. + +"Mother likes me when I am pretty," she repeated softly under her +breath, "but father likes me anyhow." She thought over this somewhat +curious problem. Why should father like her anyhow? Why should mother +only kiss her and pet her when she was downright pretty? + +"Do I look pretty?" she said at last, dancing back to the governess's +side. + +Miss Winstead dropped her pen and looked up at the radiant little +figure. She had contrived to tie some of the wild flowers together, +and had encircled them round her white forehead, and mixed them in her +flowing locks, and here, there, and everywhere on her white dress were +bunches of buttercups and daisies, with a few violets thrown in. + +"Do I look pretty?" repeated Sibyl Ogilvie. + +"You are a very vain little girl," said Miss Winstead. "I won't tell +you whether you look pretty or not, you ought not to think of your +looks. God does not like people who think whether they are pretty or +not. He likes humble-minded little girls. Now don't interrupt me any +more." + +"There's the gong, I'm off," cried Sibyl. She kissed her hand to Miss +Winstead, her face all alight with happiness. + +"I know I am pretty, she always talks like that when I am," thought +the child, who had a very keen insight into character. "Mother will +kiss me to-night, I am so glad. I wonder if Jesus Christ thinks me +pretty, too." + +Sibyl Ogilvie, aged eight, had a theology of her own. It was extremely +simple, and had no perplexing elements about it. There were three +persons who were absolutely perfect. Jesus Christ Who lived in heaven, +but Who saw everything that took place on earth, and her own father +and mother. No one else was absolutely without sin, but these three +were. It was a most comfortable doctrine, and it sustained her little +heart through some perplexing passages in her small life. She used to +shut her eyes when her mother frowned, and say softly under her +breath-- + +"It's not wrong, 'cos it's mother. Mother couldn't do nothing wrong, +no more than Jesus could"; and she used to stop her ears when her +mother's voice, sharp and passionate, rang across the room. Something +was trying mother dreadfully, but mother had a right to be angry; she +was not sinful, like nurse, when she got into her tantrums. As to +father, he was never cross. He did look tired and disturbed sometimes. +It must be because he was sorry for the rest of the world. Yes, father +and mother were perfection. It was a great support to know this. It +was a very great honor to have been born their little girl. Every +morning when Sibyl knelt to pray, and every evening when she offered +up her nightly petitions, she thanked God most earnestly for having +given her as parents those two perfect people known to the world as +Philip Ogilvie and his wife. + +"It was so awfully kind of you, Jesus," Sibyl would say, "and I must +try to grow up as nearly good as I can, because of You and father and +mother. I must try not to be cross, and I must try not to be vain, and +I must try to love my lessons. I don't think I am really vain, Jesus. +It is just because my mother likes me best when I am pretty that I +want to be pretty. It's for no other reason, really and truly; but I +don't like lessons, particularly spelling lessons. I cannot pretend I +do. Can I?" + +Jesus never made any audible response to the child's query, but she +often felt a little tug at her heart which caused her to fly to her +spelling-book and learn one or two difficult words with frantic zeal. + +As she ran downstairs now, she reflected over the problem of her +mother's kisses being softest and her mother's eyes kindest when her +own eyes were bright and her little figure radiant; and she also +thought of the other problem, of her grave-eyed father always loving +her, no matter whether her frock was torn, her hair untidy, or her +little face smudged. + +Because of her cherubic face, Sibyl had been called the Angel when +quite a baby, and somehow the name stuck to her, particularly on the +lips of her father. It is true she had a sparkling face and soft +features and blue eyes; but she was, when all is said and done, a +somewhat worldly little angel, and had, both in the opinions of Miss +Winstead and nurse, as many faults as could well be packed into the +breast of one small child. Both admitted that Sibyl had a very loving +heart, but she was fearless, headstrong, at times even defiant, and +was very naughty and idle over her lessons. + +Miss Winstead was fond of taking complaints of Sibyl to Mrs. Ogilvie, +and she was fond, also, of hoping against hope that these complaints +would lead to satisfactory results; but, as a matter of fact, Mrs. +Ogilvie never troubled herself about them. She was the sort of woman +who took the lives of others with absolute unconcern; her own life +absorbed every thought and every feeling. Anything that added to her +own comfort was esteemed; anything that worried her was shut as much +as possible out of sight. She was fond of Sibyl in her careless way. +There were moments when she was proud of the pretty and attractive +child, but she had not the slightest idea of attempting to mould her +character, nor of becoming her instructress. One of Mrs. Ogilvie's +favorite theories was that mothers should not educate their children. + +"The child should go to the mother for love and petting," she would +say. "Miss Winstead may complain of the darling as much as she +pleases, but need not suppose that I shall scold her." + +It was Sibyl's father, after all, who now and then spoke to her about +her unworthy conduct. + +"You are called the Angel, and you must try to act up to your name," +he said on one of these occasions, fixing his own dark-grey eyes on +the little girl. + +"Oh, yes, father," answered the Angel, "but, you see, I wasn't born +that way, same as you was. It seems a pity, doesn't it? You're perfect +and I am not. I can't help the way I was born, can I, father?" + +"No; no one is perfect, darling," replied the father. + +"You are," answered the Angel, and she gave her head a defiant toss. +"You and my mother and my beautiful Lord Jesus up in heaven. But I'll +try to please you, father, so don't knit up your forehead." + +Sibyl as she spoke laid her soft hand on her father's brow and tried +to smooth out some wrinkles. + +"Same as if you was an old man," she said: "but you're perfect, +perfect, and I love you, I love you," and she encircled his neck with +her soft arms and pressed many kisses on his face. + +On these occasions Philip Ogilvie felt uncomfortable, for he was a man +with many passions and beset with infirmities, and at the time when +Sibyl praised him most, when she uttered her charming, confident +words, and raised her eyes full of absolute faith to his, he was +thinking with a strange acute pain at his heart of a transaction which +he might undertake and of a temptation which he knew well was soon to +be presented to him. + +"I should not like the child to know about it," was his reflection; +"but all the same, if I do it, if I fall, it will be for her sake, for +hers alone." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Sibyl skipped down to the drawing-room with her spirits brimful of +happiness. She opened the door wide and danced in. + +"Here I come," she cried, "here I come, buttercups and daisies and +violets and me." She looked from one parent to the other, held out her +flowing short skirts with each dimpled hand, and danced across the +room. + +Mrs. Ogilvie had tears in her eyes; she had just come to the +sentimental part of her quarrel. At sight of the child she rose +hastily, and walked to the window. Philip Ogilvie went down the room, +put both his hands around Sibyl's waist, and lifted her to a level +with his shoulders. + +"What a fairy-like little girl this is!" he cried. + +"You are Spring come to cheer us up." + +"I am glad," whispered Sibyl; "but let me down, please, father, I want +to kiss mother." + +Mr. Ogilvie dropped her to the ground. She ran up to her mother. + +"Father says I am Spring, look at me," she said, and she gazed into +the beautiful, somewhat sullen face of her parent. + +Mrs. Ogilvie had hoped that Sibyl would not notice her tears, but +Sibyl, gentle as she looked, had the eyes of a hawk. + +"Something is fretting my ownest mother," she whispered under her +breath, and then she took her mother's soft hand and covered it with +kisses. After kissing it, she patted it, and then she returned to her +father's side. + +Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Ogilvie knew why, but as soon as Sibyl entered +the room it seemed ridiculous for them to quarrel. Mrs. Ogilvie turned +with an effort, said something kind to her husband, he responded +courteously, then the dinner gong sounded, and the three entered the +dining-room. + +It was one of the customs of the house that Sibyl, when they dined +alone, should always sit with her parents during this hour. Mrs. +Ogilvie objected to the plan, urging that it was very bad for the +child. But Ogilvie thought otherwise, and notwithstanding all the +mother's objections the point was carried. A high chair was placed for +Sibyl next her father, and she occupied it evening after evening, +nibbling a biscuit from the dessert, and airing her views in a +complacent way on every possible subject under the sun. + +"I call Miss Winstead crosspatch now," she said on this occasion. "She +is more cranky than you think. She is, really, truly, father." + +"You must not talk against your governess, Sibyl," said her mother +from the other end of the table. + +"Oh, let her speak out to us, my dear," said the father. "What was +Miss Winstead cross about to-day, Sibyl?" + +"Spelling, as usual," said Sibyl briefly, "but more special 'cos Lord +Jesus made me pretty." + +"Hush!" said the mother again. + +Sibyl glanced at her father. There was a twinkle of amusement in his +eyes which he could scarcely keep back. + +"My dear," he said, addressing his wife, "do you think Miss Winstead +is just the person----" + +"I beg of you, Philip," interrupted the mother, "not to speak of the +child's teacher before her face. Sibyl, I forbid you to make unkind +remarks." + +"It's 'cos they're both so perfect," thought Sibyl, "but it's hard on +me not to be able to 'splain things. If I can't, what is to be done?" + +She munched her biscuit sorrowfully, and looked with steadfast eyes +across the room. She supposed she would have to endure Miss Winstead, +crosspatch as she was, and she did not enjoy the task which mother and +Lord Jesus had set her. + +The footman was in the act of helping Mr. Ogilvie to champagne, and +Sibyl paused in her thoughts to watch the frothy wine as it filled +the glass. + +"Is it nice?" she inquired. + +"Very nice, Sibyl. Would you like to taste it?" + +"No, thank you, father. Nurse says if you drink wine when you're a +little girl, you grow up to be drunk as a hog." + +"My dear Sibyl," cried the mother, "I really must speak to nurse. What +a disgraceful thing to say!" + +"Let us turn the subject," said the father. + +Sibyl turned it with a will. + +"I 'spect I ought to 'fess to you," she said. "I was cross myself +to-day. Seems to me I'm not getting a bit perfect. I stamped my foot +when Miss Winstead made me write all my spelling over again. Father, +is it necessary for a little girl to spell long words?" + +"You would not like to put wrong spelling into your letters to me, +would you?" was the answer. + +"I don't think I'd much care," said Sibyl, with a smile. "You'd know +what I meant, wouldn't you, whether I spelt the words right or not? +All the same," she added, "I'll spell right if you wish it--I mean, +I'll try." + +"That's a good girl. Now tell me what else you did naughty?" + +"When Sibyl talks about her sins, would it not be best for her to do +so in private?" said the mother again. + +"But this is private," said Mr. Ogilvie, "only her father and mother." + +Mrs. Ogilvie glanced at a footman who stood not far off, and who was +in vain endeavoring to suppress a smile. + +"I washed my doll's clothes, although nurse told me not," continued +Sibyl, "and I made a mess in the night nursery. I spilt the water and +wetted my pinny, and I _would_ open the window, although it was +raining. I ran downstairs, too, and asked Watson to give me a macaroon +biscuit. He wasn't to blame--Watson wasn't." + +The unfortunate footman whose name was now introduced hastily turned +his back, but his ears looked very red as he arranged some glasses on +the sideboard. + +"Father," whispered Sibyl, "do you know that Watson has got a +sweetheart, and----" + +"Hush! hush!" said Mr. Ogilvie, "go on with your confessions." + +"They're rather sad, aren't they, father? Now I come to think of it, +they are very, very sad. I didn't do one right thing to-day 'cept to +make myself pretty. Miss Winstead was so angry, and so was nurse, but +when I am with them I don't mind a bit being naughty. I wouldn't be a +flabby good girl for all the world." + +"Oh, Angel, what is to become of you?" said her father. + +Sibyl looked full at him, her eyes sparkled, then a curious change +came into them. He was good--perfect; it was lovely to think of it, +but she felt sure that she could never be perfect like that. All the +same, she did not want to pain him. She slipped her small hand into +his, and presently she whispered: + +"I'll do anything in all the world to please you and mother and Lord +Jesus." + +"That is right," said the father, who gave a swift thought at the +moment to the temptation which he knew was already on its way, and +which he would never yield to but for the sake of the child. + +The rest of the dinner proceeded without many more remarks, and +immediately afterwards Sibyl kissed both her parents and went +upstairs. + +"Good-night, little Spring," said her father, and there was a note of +pain in his voice. + +She gave him an earnest hug, and then she whispered-- + +"Is it 'cos I'm a wicked girl you're sad?" + +"No," he answered, "you are not wicked, my darling; you are the best, +the sweetest in all the world." + +"Oh, no, father," answered Sibyl, "that is not true. I am not the best +nor the sweetest, and I wouldn't like to be too good, 'cept for you. +Good-night, darling father." + +Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvie returned to the drawing-room. + +"You spoil that child," said the wife, "but it is on a par with +everything else you do. You have no perception of what is right. I +don't pretend to be a good mother, but I don't talk nonsense to Sibyl. +She ought not to speak about nurse and governess before servants, and +it is disgraceful of her to drag the footman and his concerns into the +conversation at dinner. She ought not, also, to boast about doing +naughty things." + +"I wish you would leave the child alone," said Ogilvie in an annoyed +voice; "she is good enough for me, little pet, and I would not have +her altered for the world. But now, Mildred, to return to our cause of +dissension before dinner, we must get this matter arranged. What do +you mean to do about your invitation to Grayleigh Manor?" + +"I have given you my views on that subject, Philip; I am going." + +"I would much rather you did not." + +"I am sorry." Mrs. Ogilvie shrugged her shoulders. "I am willing to +please you in all reasonable matters; this is unreasonable, therefore +I shall take my own way." + +"It is impossible for me to accompany you." + +"I can live without you for a few days, and I shall take the child." + +"Sibyl! No, I do not wish it." + +"I fear you must put up with it. I have written to say that Sibyl and +I will go down on Saturday." + +Ogilvie, who had been seated, now rose, and went to the window. He +looked out with a dreary expression on his face. + +"You know as well as I do the reasons why it would be best for you not +to go to Grayleigh Manor at present," he said. "You can easily write +to give an excuse. Remember, we were both asked, and the fact that I +cannot leave town is sufficient reason for you to decline." + +"I am going," said Mrs. Ogilvie. Her eyes, which were large and dark, +flashed with defiance. Ogilvie looked at her with a frown between his +brows. + +"Is that your last word?" he inquired. + +"It is, I go on Saturday. If you were not so disagreeable and +disobliging you could easily come with me, but you never do anything +to please me." + +"Nor you to please me, Mildred," he was about to say, but he +restrained himself. After a pause he said gently, "There is one thing +that makes the situation almost unbearable." + +"And what is that?" she asked. + +"The attitude of little Sibyl toward us both. She thinks us--Mildred, +she thinks us perfect. What will happen to the child when her eyes are +opened?" + +"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," was Mrs. Ogilvie's +flippant remark. "But that attitude is much encouraged by you. You +make her morbid and sensitive." + +"Morbid! Sibyl morbid! There never was a more open-hearted, frank, +healthy creature. Did you not hear her say at dinner that she would +not be a flabby good girl for anything? Now, I must tell you that +perhaps wrong as that speech was, it rejoiced my heart." + +"And it sickened me," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "You do everything in your +power to make her eccentric. Now, I don't wish to have an eccentric +daughter. I wish to have a well brought up girl, who will be good +while she is young, speak properly, not make herself in any way +remarkable, learn her lessons, and make a successful _debut_ in +Society, all in due course." + +"With a view, doubtless, to a brilliant marriage," added the husband, +bitterly. + +"I am going to knock all of this nonsense out of Sibyl," was his +wife's answer, "and I mean to begin it when we get to Grayleigh +Manor." + +Mrs. Ogilvie had hardly finished her words before an angry bang at the +drawing-room door told her that her husband had left her. + +Ogilvie went to his smoking-room at the other end of the hall. There +he paced restlessly up and down. His temples were beating, and the +pain at his heart was growing worse. + +The postman's ring was heard, and the footman, Watson, entered with a +letter. + +Ogilvie had expected this letter, and he knew what its purport would +be. He only glanced at the writing, threw it on the table near, and +resumed his walk up and down. + +"It is the child," he thought. "She perplexes me and she tempts me. +Never was there a sweeter decoy duck to the verge of ruin. Poor little +innocent white Angel! Her attitude toward her mother and me is +sometimes almost maddening. Mildred wants to take that little innocent +life and mould it after her own fashion. But, after all, am I any +better than Mildred? If I yield to this"--he touched the letter with +his hand--"I shall sweep in gold, and all money anxieties will be laid +to rest. Little Sib will be rich by-and-by. This is a big thing, and +if I do it I shall see my way to clearing off those debts which +Mildred's extravagance, and doubtless my own inclination, have caused +me to accumulate. Whatever happens Sibyl will be all right; and yet--I +don't care for wealth, but Mildred does, and the child will be better +for money. Money presents a shield between a sensitive heart like +Sibyl's and the world. Yes, I am tempted. Sibyl tempts me." + +He thrust the letter into a drawer, locked the drawer, put the key in +his pocket, and ran up to Sibyl's nursery. She was asleep, and there +was no one else in the room. The blinds were down at the windows, and +the nursery, pretty, dainty, sweet, and fresh, was in shadow. + +Ogilvie stepped softly across the room, and drew up the blind. The +moonlight now came in, and shed a silver bar of light across the +child's bed. Sibyl lay with her golden hair half covering the pillow, +her hands and arms flung outside the bedclothes. + +"Good-night, little darling," said her father. He bent over her, and +pressed a light kiss upon her cheek. Feather touch as it was, it +aroused the child. She opened her big blue eyes. + +"Oh, father, is that you?" she cried in a voice of rapture. + +"Yes, it is I. I came to wish you good-night." + +"You are good, you never forget," said Sibyl. She clasped her arms +round his neck. "I went to bed without saying my prayers. May I say +them now to you?" + +"Not for worlds," it was the man's first impulse to remark, but he +checked himself. "Of course, dear," he said. + +Sibyl raised herself to a kneeling posture. She clasped her soft arms +round her father's neck. + +"Pray God forgive me for being naughty to-day," she began, "and pray +God make me better to-morrow, 'cos it will please my darlingest father +and mother; and I thank you, God, so much for making them good, very +good, and without sin. Pray God forgive Sibyl, and try to make her +better. + +"Now, father, you're pleased," continued the little girl. "It was very +hard to say that, because really, truly, I don't want to be better, +but I'll try hard if it pleases you." + +"Yes, Sibyl, try hard," said her father, "try very hard to be good. +Don't let goodness go. Grasp it tight with both hands and never let it +go. So may God indeed help you." Ogilvie said these words in a +strained voice. Then he covered her up in bed, drew down the blinds, +and left her. + +"He's fretted; it's just 'cos the world is so wicked, and 'cos I'm not +as good as I ought to be," thought the child. A moment later she had +fallen asleep with a smile on her face. + +Ogilvie went to his club. There he wrote a short letter. It ran as +follows:-- + + "MY DEAR GRAYLEIGH,-- + + "Your offer was not unexpected. I thought it over even + before it came, and I have considered it since. Although I + am fully aware of the money advantages it holds out to me I + have decided to decline it. Frankly, I cannot undertake to + assay the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine, although your offer has + been a great temptation. No doubt you will find another man + more suited for your purpose. + + "Yours sincerely, + "PHILIP OGILVIE." + +It was between one and two that same night that Ogilvie let himself in +with his latchkey. + +His wife had been to one or two receptions, and had not yet gone to +bed. She was standing in the hall, looking radiant as he had seldom +seen her. She was dressed beautifully, and her hair and neck were +covered with diamonds. + +"What," he cried, "up still, Mildred? You ought to be in bed." + +He did not give her any glance of admiration, beautiful as she +appeared. He shivered slightly with a movement which she did not +notice as she stood before him, the lamplight falling all over her +lovely dress and figure. + +"I am so glad you have come back, Phil," she said. "I shall sleep +better now that I have seen you. I hear that Lord Grayleigh has +offered you the post of engineer on the board of the Lombard Deeps +Mine Company." + +Ogilvie did not answer. After a moment's pause he said in a sullen +tone-- + +"Had you not better go to bed? It is much too late for you to be up." + +"What does that matter? I am far too excited to sleep, and it is wrong +of you to keep things of moment from your wife. This offer means a +large addition to our income. Why, Phil, Phil, we can buy a country +place now; we can do, oh! so many things. We can pay those terrible +debts that worry you. What is the matter? Aren't you pleased? Why do +you frown at me? And you are pale, are you ill?" + +"Come into my smoking-room," he said, gravely. He took her hand and, +drawing her in, switched on the electric light. Then he turned his +wife round and looked full at her. + +"This will make a great difference in our position," she said. Her +eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were flushed, her pearly teeth showed +between her parted lips. + +"What do you mean by our position?" he said. + +"You know perfectly well that we have not money enough to keep up this +house; it is a struggle from first to last." + +"And yet I earn close on six thousand a year, Mildred. Have you never +considered that you are the person who makes it a struggle?" + +"It is impossible; impossible to manage," she said, petulantly. + +"It is, when you buy all these worthless baubles"--he touched her +diamonds, and then he started away from her. "Why you should saddle +yourself and me with debts almost impossible to meet for the sake of +these is beyond my comprehension; but if you really do want a fresh +toy in the way of an ornament to-morrow you have but to order it--that +is, in moderation." + +"Ah! I knew you had accepted," she said, making a quick dancing +movement with her small feet. "Now I am happy; we can have a place if +possible on the river. I have always longed to live close to the +Thames. It is most unfashionable not to have a country seat, and the +child will be well off by-and-by. I was told to-night by a City man +who is to be one of the directors of the new company, that if you are +clever you can make a cool forty thousand pounds out of this business. +He says your name is essential to float the thing with the public." + +"You know, perhaps, what all this means?" said Ogilvie, after a pause. + +"Why do you speak in that tone, quite with the Sibyl air?" + +"Don't dare to mention the child's name at a moment like this. I just +wish to tell you, Mildred, in a few words, what it would mean to the +world at large if I assayed the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine." + +"Oh, your business terms do so puzzle me," she answered. "I declare I +am getting sleepy." Mrs. Ogilvie yawned slightly. + +"It would be better if you went to bed, but as you are here I shall +put your mind at rest. If I accepted Grayleigh's offer----" + +"If! But you have done so, of course you have." + +"If I do, my name as engineer to the company will cause many people to +buy shares. Now, Mildred, I am not sure of the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine. I know more about this business than I can explain to you, and +you have a tongue, and women cannot keep secrets." + +"As usual, you taunt me," she said, "but what does that matter? I +could bear even an insult from you to-night, I am so excited and so +pleased. I believe in the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine. I intend to put +all the money I can lay hold of into it. Of course you will assay the +Lombard Deeps? I never could make out what assaying meant, but it +seems to be a way of raking in gold, and I was told to-night by Mr. +Halkett that you are the most trusted assayer in London. Has the +letter come yet? Has Lord Grayleigh yet offered you the post?" + +"The letter has come." + +"You would make thousands a year out of it. Phil, oh, Phil, how happy +I am! You have replied, have you not?" + +"I have." + +"Then why do you keep me in suspense? It is settled. What are you so +glum about?" + +"I have declined the offer. I cannot assay the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine." + +"Philip!" His wife's voice was at first incredulous, then it rose into +a scream. + +"You cannot be speaking the truth," she said. + +"My answer is posted. I am not too scrupulous about small things, but +I draw the line at a matter of that sort. Go to bed." + +She did not speak for a moment, her face turned pale, then she went +close up to him. + +"I hate you," she said; "go your own way in the future," and she left +him standing silent. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Sibyl and her mother went to Grayleigh Manor on the following +Saturday. Sibyl was wild with excitement. Nurse was going, of course, +to look after her, but Miss Winstead was to remain at home. Sibyl felt +that she could manage nurse, but there were moments when Miss Winstead +was a little obstinate. She would have a delightful time now in the +country with her perfect mother. Of course, there was the pain of +parting with father, who was just as perfect, if not a little more so. +In her heart of hearts Sibyl felt that she understood her father, and +that there were times when she did not quite understand her mother; +but, never mind, her mother was the perfection of all feminine beauty +and loveliness, and grace and goodness, and her father was the +perfection of all masculine goodness and nobility of character. Sibyl +in her heart of hearts wished that she had been born a boy. + +"I am much more like a boy than a girl," she thought, "and that is why +I understand father so well. But it will be lovely going to the +country with mother, my ownest mother. I expect I'll have great fun; +and, as mother doesn't care so very much whether I am perfect or not, +perhaps I can be a little naughty on my own account. That will be +lovely. I can't be really naughty with father, it is impossible; +father is so very tall up, and has such grand thoughts about things; +but I can with mother." + +So Sibyl watched the packing of her dainty frocks and gay sashes and +pretty ribbons, and then ran down to the smoking-room to kiss and hug +her father. + +Ogilvie was very grave and silent, and did not say a word, nor draw +her out in any way, and her mother was out most of the time either +paying calls or shopping, and at last the day dawned when they were to +go away. Ogilvie had kissed Sibyl with great passion the night before. + +"Don't forget me while you are away, little woman," he said, "and look +after mother, won't you?" + +"She won't need me to look after her, she's quite, quite perfect," +said Sibyl; "but I'm going to watch her, and try to copy her." + +"Child, don't do that," said the man. + +"Not copy my ownest mother? What do you mean, father?" + +"Well, well, darling, God will look after you, I do believe. You are +not far from Him, are you, Sib? You know we call you the Angel. Angels +are supposed to have their home in heaven." + +"Well, my home is right down here on earth," said Sibyl in a very +contented tone. "I'll have a real jolly time away, I 'spect." + +"I hope there will be some nice little boys and girls there with whom +you can play; and go to bed early, Sib, just for father's sake, and +don't forget to pray for me." + +"I will, I will," said the child; "I always thank God for you because +he made you so beautiful and good." + +"Well, I am busy now; go to bed, little woman." + +That was the last Sibyl saw of her father before she went away, for he +did not go to see his wife and daughter off, and Mrs. Ogilvie looked +decidedly cross as they stepped into the train. But they soon found +themselves at Grayleigh Manor. + +Sibyl and her nurse were hurried off to the nursery regions, very much +to the little girl's secret indignation, and Mrs. Ogilvie seemed to be +swept into a crowd of people who all surrounded her and talked eagerly +and laughed noisily. Sibyl gave them a keen glance out of those very +blue eyes, and in her heart of hearts thought they were a poor lot. + +She and nurse had two nice rooms set apart for their own special use, +a sitting-room and a sleeping-room, and nurse proceeded to unpack the +little girl's things, and then to dress her in one of her prettiest +frocks. + +"You are to go to tea in the schoolroom," she said. "There are two or +three other children there, and I hope you will be very good, Miss +Sibyl, and not spoil this beautiful frock." + +It was a white cashmere frock, very much embroidered and surrounded by +little frills and soft laces, and, while absolutely simple and quite +suited to the little girl, was really a wonder of expense and art. + +"It's a beautiful dress," she said; "you are wearing money now." + +"Money," said Sibyl, "what do you mean?" + +"This frock is money; you look very nice in it. Be sure, now, you +don't spot it. It would be wicked, just as if you were throwing +sovereigns into the fire." + +"I don't understand," said Sibyl; "I wish it wasn't a grand frock. Did +you bring any of my common, common frocks, nursie?" + +"I should think not, indeed. Your fine lady mother would be angry if +she saw you looking a show." + +"If you speak again in that tone of my mother I'll slap you," said +Sibyl. + +"Highty-tighty!" said the nurse; "your spirit is almost past bearing. +You need to be broke in." + +"And so do you," answered Sibyl. "If mother is good you are not, and +I'm not, so we both must be broke in; but I've got a bit of a temper. +I know that. Nursie, when you were a little girl did you have a bit of +a temper of your own?" + +"That I did. I was a handful, my mother used to say." + +"Then we _has_ something in common," said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling. +"I'm a handful, too. I'm off to the schoolroom." + +"There never was such a child," thought the woman as Sibyl dashed +away, banging the door after her; "she's not shy, and she's as sweet +as sweet can be, and yet she's a handful of spirit, of uppishness and +contrariness. Well, God bless her, whatever she is. How did that +heartless mother come by her? I can understand her being the master's +child, but her mother's! Dear me, I'm often sorry when I think how +mistook the poor little thing is in that woman she thinks so perfect." + +Sibyl, quite happy, her heart beating high with excitement, poked her +radiant little face round the schoolroom door. There were three +children already in the room--Mabel, Gus, and Freda St. Claire. They +were Lord Grayleigh's children, and were handsome, and well cared for, +and now looked with curiosity at Sibyl. + +"Oh, you're the little girl," said Mabel, who was twelve years of +age. She raised her voice in a languid tone. + +"Yes, I _are_ the little girl," said Sibyl. She came forward with +bold, confident steps, and looked at the tea table. + +"Where is my place?" she said. "Is it laid for me? I am the visitor." + +Gus, aged ten, who had been somewhat inclined to sulk when Sibyl +appeared, now smiled, and pulled out a chair. + +"Sit down," he said; "you had better sit there, near Mabel; she's +pouring out tea. She's the boss, you know." + +"What's a boss?" said Sibyl. + +"You must be a silly not to know what a boss is." + +"I aren't no more silly than you are," said Sibyl. "May I have some +bread and butter and jam? I'll ask you some things about town, and +perhaps you can't answer me. What's a--what's a--oh, I'll think of +something real slangy presently; but please don't talk to me too much +while I'm eating, or I'll spill jam on my money frock." + +"You are a very queer little girl," said Mabel; but she looked at her +now with favor. A child who could talk like Sibyl was likely to be an +acquisition. + +"What a silly you are," said Gus. "What did you put on that thing +for? We don't want frilled and laced-up frocks, we want frocks that +girls can wear to climb trees in, and----" + +"Climb trees! Oh," cried Sibyl, "are you that sort? Then I'm your +girl. Oh, I am glad! My ownest father would be pleased. He likes me to +be brave. I'm a hoyden--do you know what a hoyden is? If you want to +have a few big larks while I am here, see to 'em quick, for I'm your +girl." + +Gus burst into a roar of laughter, and Mabel smiled. + +"You are very queer," she said. "I don't know whether our governess +will like our being with you. You seem to use strange words. We never +get into scrapes--we are quite ladylike and good, but we don't wear +grand frocks either. Can't you take that thing off?" + +"I wish I could. I hate it myself." + +"Well, ask your servant to change it." + +"But my nurse hasn't brought a single shabby frock with me." + +"Are all your frocks as grand as that?" + +"Some of 'em grander." + +"We might lend her one of our own brown holland frocks," said Freda. + +"Oh, do!" said Sibyl; "that will be lovely." + +"We are going to do some climbing this afternoon, so you may as well +put it on," continued Freda. + +Sibyl clapped her hands with delight. "It's a great comfort coming +down to this place," she said finally, "'cos I can give way a little; +but with my father and mother I have to keep myself in." + +"Why?" + +"It's mostly on account of my most perfect of fathers." + +"But isn't Philip Ogilvie your father?" said Gus. + +"Mr. Ogilvie," corrected Sibyl, in a very proud tone. + +"Oh, fudge! I heard father call him Philip Ogilvie. He's not perfect." + +Sibyl's face turned white; she looked full at Gus. Gus, not observing +the expression in her eyes, continued, in a glib and easy tone: + +"Father didn't know I was there; he was talking to another man. I +think the man's name was Halkett. I'm always great at remembering +names, and I heard him say 'Philip Ogilvie will do what we want. When +it comes to the point he's not too scrupulous.' Yes, scrupulous was +the word, and I ran away and looked it out in the dictionary, and it +means--oh, you needn't stare at me as if your eyes were starting out +of your head--it means a person who hesitates from fear of acting +wrongly. Now, as your father isn't scrupulous, that means that he +doesn't hesitate to act wrong." + +Sibyl with one swift, unerring bang struck Gus a sharp blow across the +cheek. + +"What have you done that for, you little beggar?" he said, his eyes +flashing fire. + +"To teach you not to tell lies," answered Sibyl. She turned, went up +the room, and stood by the window. Her heart was bursting, and tears +were scorching her eyeballs. "But I won't shed them," thought the +child, "not for worlds." + +Sibyl's action was so unexpected that there was a silence in the room +for a few moments, but presently Freda stole softly to Sibyl's side +and touched her on her arm. + +"Gus is sorry he said anything to hurt you," she said; "we didn't +understand that you would feel it as you do, but we are all sorry, and +we like you all the better for it. Won't you shake hands with Gus and +be friends?" + +"And I'll never say a word against your father again," said Gus. + +"You had better not," answered Sibyl. "No, I won't shake hands; I +won't make friends with you till I know something more about you. But +I'd like to climb trees, and to get into a holland frock." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +It was great fun getting into the holland frock, more particularly +when it was discovered to be too short, and also very dirty. It had a +great ink-stain in front, and the sleeves were tight and showed a good +bit of Sibyl's white arms. She looked at herself in the glass and +danced about in her excitement. + +"You can have this old sailor hat to match the frock," said Freda in +conclusion. "Now no one will say you are too fine. Come out now, Gus +and the others are waiting." + +Yes, the sun shone once more for Sibyl, and she forgot for a time +Gus's cruel words about her father. He was most attentive to her now, +and initiated her into the mystery of climbing. Screams of laughter +followed her valiant efforts to ascend the leafy heights of certain +beech trees which grew not far from the house. This laughter attracted +the attention of a lady and gentleman who were pacing the leafy alley +not far away. + +"What a noise those children make," said Lord Grayleigh to his +companion. + +"How many children have you, Lord Grayleigh?" asked Mrs. Ogilvie. She +looked full at him as she spoke. + +"I have three," he replied; "they are great scamps, and never for a +single moment fit to be seen. Since their mother died"--he sighed +as he uttered these words, he was a widower of over two years' +standing--"I have kept them more or less with myself. There is no harm +in them, although they are pickles. Come, I will introduce you to +them. That reminds me, I have not yet seen your own little daughter." + +Mrs. Ogilvie was very proud of Sibyl, but only when she looked her +best. The mother now contemplated, with a feeling of satisfaction, the +nice dresses which she had secured for the child before she came into +the country. No one could look more lovely than this little daughter +of hers, when dressed suitably, so abundant was her golden brown hair, +and so blue were her eyes, so straight the little features, so soft +the curves of the rosy lips. It is true those blue eyes had an +expression in them which never in this world could Mrs. Ogilvie +understand, nevertheless, the child's beauty was apparent to the most +superficial observer; and Mrs. Ogilvie turned and accompanied Lord +Grayleigh in the direction of the merry sounds willingly enough. + +"I see four little figures dancing about among those trees," said +Lord Grayleigh. "We will see them all together." + +They turned down a side walk, and came face to face with Sibyl +herself. Now, at that instant the little girl certainly did not look +at her best. The holland frock, short and shabby, had a great rent +above the knee, her soft cheek was scratched and bleeding slightly, +and there was a smudge across her forehead. + +Sibyl, quite unconscious of these defects, flew to her mother's side. + +"Oh, Mummy," she cried, "I'm so happy. Gus has been teaching me to +climb. Do you see that beech tree? I climbed as far as the second +branch, and Gus said I did it splendid. It's lovely to sit up there." + +Sibyl did not even notice Lord Grayleigh, who stood and watched this +little scene with an amused face. Mrs. Ogilvie was by no means +pleased. + +"What do you mean, Sibyl," she said, "by wearing that disgraceful +frock? Why did nurse put it into your trunk? And you know I do not +wish you to climb trees. You are an extremely naughty girl. No, Lord +Grayleigh, I will not introduce my little daughter to you now. When +you are properly dressed, Sibyl, and know how to behave yourself, you +shall have the honor of shaking hands with Lord Grayleigh. Go into +the house, now, I am ashamed of you." + +Sibyl turned first red and then white. + +"Is that Lord Grayleigh?" she whispered. + +"Yes, my dear, but I shall not answer any of your other questions at +present. I am extremely displeased with you." + +"I am sorry you are angry, mother; but may I--may I say one thing, +just one, afore I go?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie was about to hustle the child off, when Lord Grayleigh +interfered. "Do let her speak," he said; "she looks a most charming +little maid. For my part I like children best in _deshabille_. What is +it, little woman?" + +"It's that I don't want to shake hands with you--never, _never_!" +answered Sibyl, and she turned her back on the astonished nobleman, +and marched off in the direction of the house. + +Mrs. Ogilvie turned to apologize. + +"I am terribly ashamed of Sibyl, she is the most extraordinary child," +she said. "What can have possessed her to put on that frock, and why +did she speak to you in that strange, rude way?" Here Mrs. Ogilvie +uttered a sigh. "I fear it is her father's doing," she continued, "he +makes her most eccentric. I do hope you will overlook her naughty +words. The moment I go into the house I shall speak to her, and also +to nurse for allowing her to wear that disgraceful frock." + +"I don't think your nurse is to blame," said Lord Grayleigh. "I have a +keen eye for dress, and have a memory of that special frock. It +happens to possess a green stain in the back which I am not likely to +forget. I think my Freda wore it a good deal last summer, and I +remember the occasion when the green stain was indelibly fixed upon +it. You must know, Mrs. Ogilvie, that my three children are imps, and +it was the impiest of the imps' frocks your little girl happened to be +wearing. But what a handsome little creature she is! A splendid face. +How I have come to fall under her displeasure, however, is a mystery +to me." + +"Oh, you can never account for Sibyl's whims," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "it +is all her father's fault. It is a great trial to me, I assure you." + +"I should be very proud of that child if I were you," answered Lord +Grayleigh. "She has a particularly frank, fine face." + +"Oh, she is handsome enough," answered Mrs. Ogilvie. "But what she +will grow up to, heaven only knows. She has the strangest ideas on all +sorts of subjects. She absolutely believes that her father and I are +perfect--could you credit it? At the same time she is a very naughty +child herself. I will go into the house, now, and give her a talking +to." + +"Don't scold her, poor little thing," said Lord Grayleigh. He was a +kind-hearted man in the main. "For my part," he continued, "I like +naughty children; I must force her confidence presently. She has quite +roused my curiosity. But now, Mrs. Ogilvie, to turn to other matters, +what can we do to persuade your husband to alter his mind? You know, +of course, that I have asked him to assay the Lombard Deeps Mine?" + +"I do know it," answered Mrs. Ogilvie, the color flushing into her +face. "Philip is too extraordinary at times. For my part, I really do +not know how to thank you; please believe that I am altogether on your +side. If only we could persuade that eccentric husband of mine to +change his mind." + +"He is a strange fellow," answered Lord Grayleigh slowly; "but, do you +know, I think all the more of him for a letter I received a few days +ago. At the same time, it will be prejudicial to our interests if he +should not act as engineer in this new undertaking. He is the one man +the public absolutely trusts, and of course----" + +"Why do you think more of him for refusing an advantageous offer?" + +"I don't know that I can explain. Money is not everything--at least, +to some people. Shall we go into the house? I need not say that I am +glad you are on our side, and doubtless your husband's scruples"--Lord +Grayleigh laid the slightest emphasis on the word, and made it, even +to the obtuse ears of his hearer, sound offensive--"even your +husband's scruples of conscience may be overcome by judicious +management. A wife can do much on occasions of this sort, and also a +friend. He and I are more than acquaintances--we are friends. I have a +hearty liking for Ogilvie. It is a disappointment not to have him +here, but I hope to have the pleasure of lunching with him on Monday. +Trust me to do what I can to further your interests and his own on +that occasion. Now shall we go into the house? You will like to rest +before dinner." + +Mrs. Ogilvie often liked to affect weariness, it suited her peculiar +style of beauty to look languid. She went slowly to her room. Her +maid, Hortense, helped her to take off her travelling dress, and to +put on a teagown before she lay down on the sofa. She then told the +girl to leave her. + +When alone Mrs. Ogilvie thought rapidly and deeply. What was the +matter with Philip? What did Lord Grayleigh mean by talking of +scruples? But she was not going to worry her head on that subject. +Philip must not be quixotic, he must accept the good things the gods +sent him. Additional wealth would add so immensely to their happiness. + +"Money _is_ everything," she thought, "whatever Lord Grayleigh may +say. Those who refuse it are fools, and worse. Lord Grayleigh and I +must bring Philip to his senses." + +She moved restlessly on her sofa, and looked across the comfortable +room. + +With a little more wealth she could hold her own with her friends and +acquaintances, and present a good figure in that world of society +which was her one idea of heaven. Above all things, debts, which came +between her and perfect bliss, could be cleared off. Her creditors +would not wait for payment much longer, but if Philip assayed the new +mine, he would be handsomely paid for his pains, and all her own cares +would take to themselves wings and fly away. Why did he hesitate? How +tiresome he was! Surely his life had not been so immaculate up to the +present that he should hesitate thus when the golden opportunity to +secure a vast fortune arrived. + +Ogilvie came of one of the best old families across the border, and +had a modest competence of his own handed down to him from a long line +of honorable ancestors. He had also inherited a certain code which he +could not easily forget. He called it a code of honor, and Mrs. +Ogilvie, alas! did not understand it. She reflected over the +situation now, and grew restless. If Philip was really such a goose as +to refuse his present chance, she would never forgive him. She would +bring up to him continually the golden opportunity he had let slip, +and weary his very soul. She was the sort of soft, pretty woman who +could nag a man to the verge of distraction. She knew that inestimable +art to perfection. She felt, as she lay on the sofa and toyed with the +ribbons of her pretty and expensive teagown, that she had her weapons +ready to hand. Then, with an irritated flash, she thought of the +child. Of course the child was nice, handsome, and her own; Sibyl was +very lucky to have at least one parent who would not spoil her. But +was she not being spoiled? Were there not some things intolerable +about her? + +"May I come in, Mumsy, or are you too tired?" There was something in +the quality of the voice at the door which caused Mrs. Ogilvie's +callous heart to beat quicker for a moment, then she said in an +irritated tone-- + +"Oh, come in, of course; I want to speak to you." + +Sibyl entered. Nurse had changed her holland frock, and dressed the +little girl in pale pink silk. The dress was very unsuitable, but it +became the radiant little face and bright, large eyes, and pathetic, +sweet mouth, to perfection. + +Sibyl ran up to her mother, and, dropping on one knee by her side, +looked up into her face. + +"Now you'll kiss me," she said; "now you're pleased with your own +Sibyl. I am pretty, I'm beautiful, and you, darling mother, will kiss +me." + +"Get up, Sib, and don't be absurd," said Mrs. Ogilvie; but as she +spoke a warm light came into her eyes, for the child was fascinating, +and just in the mood to appeal most to her mother. + +"Really," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "you do look nice in that dress, it fits +you very well. Turn round, and let me see how it is made at the back. +Ah! I told Mademoiselle Leroe to make it in that style; that little +watteau back is so very becoming to small girls. Turn round now +slowly, and let me get the side view. Yes, it is a pretty dress; be +sure you don't mess it. You are to come down with the other children +to dessert. You had better go now, I am tired." + +"But Mummy--Mumsy!" + +"Don't call me Mummy or Mumsy, say mother. I don't like +abbreviations." + +"What's that?" asked Sibyl, knitting her brows. + +"Mummy or Mumsy are abbreviations of a very sacred name." + +"Sacred name!" said Sibyl, in a thoughtful tone. "Oh yes, I won't call +you anything but mother. Mother is most lovely." + +"Well, I hope you will be a good child, and not annoy me as you have +been doing." + +"Oh, mother darling, I didn't mean to vex you, but it was such a +temptation, you know. You were never, never tempted, were you, mother? +You are made so perfect that you cannot understand what temptation +means. I did so long to climb the trees, and I knew you would not like +me spoil my pretty frock, and Freda lent me the brown holland. When I +saw you, Mums--I mean, mother--I forgot about everything else but just +that I had climbed a tree, and that I had been brave, although for a +minute I felt a scrap giddy, and I wanted to tell you about what I had +done, my ownest, most darling mother." + +Mrs. Ogilvie sprang suddenly to her feet. + +"Come here," she said. There was a sharpness in her tone which +arrested the words on Sibyl's lips. "Look at me, take my hand, look +steadily into my face. I have just five minutes to spare, and I wish +to say something very grave and important, and you must listen +attentively." + +"Oh, yes, mother, I am listening; what is it?" + +"Look at me. Are you attending?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. Mother, Freda says she will give me a Persian +kitten; the Persian cat has two, such beauties, snow-white. May I have +one, mother?" + +"Attend to me, and stop talking. You think a great deal of me, your +mother, and you call me perfect. Now show that you put me in high +esteem." + +"That sounds very nice," thought Sibyl to herself. "Mother is just in +her most beautiful humor. Of course I'll listen." + +"I wish," continued the mother, and she turned slightly away from the +child as she spoke, "I wish you to stop all that nonsense about your +father and me. I wish you to understand that we are not perfect, +either of us; we are just everyday, ordinary sort of people. As we +happen to be your father and mother, you must obey us and do what we +wish; but you make yourself, and us also, ridiculous when you talk as +you do. I am perfectly sick of your poses, Sibyl." + +"Poses!" cried Sibyl; "what's poses?" + +"Oh, you are too tiresome; ask nurse to explain, or Miss Winstead, +when you go home. Miss Winstead, if she is wise, will tell you that +you must just turn round and go the other way. You must obey me, of +course, and understand that I know the right way to train you; but you +are not to talk of me as though I were an angel. I am nothing of the +kind. I am an ordinary woman, with ordinary feelings and ordinary +faults, and I wish you to be an ordinary little girl. I am very angry +with you for your great rudeness to Lord Grayleigh. What did it mean?" + +"Oh, mother! it meant----" Sibyl swallowed something in her throat. +Her mother's speech was unintelligible; it hurt her, she did not +exactly know why, but this last remark was an opening. + +"Mother, I am glad you spoke of it. I could not, really and truly, +help it." + +"Don't talk nonsense. Now go away. Hortense is coming to dress me for +dinner. Go." + +"But, mother! one minute first, please--please." + +"Go, Sibyl, obey me." + +"It was 'cos Lord Grayleigh spoke against my----" + +"Go, Sibyl, I won't listen to another word. I shall punish you +severely if you do not obey me this instant." + +"I am going," said the child, "but I cannot be----" + +"Go. You are coming down to dessert to-night, and you are to speak +properly to Lord Grayleigh. Those are my orders. Now go." + +Hortense came in at that moment. She entered with that slight whirl +which she generally affected, and which she considered truly Parisian. +Somehow, in some fashion, Sibyl felt herself swept out of the room. +She stood for a moment in the passage. There was a long glass at the +further end, and it reflected a pink-robed little figure. The cheeks +had lost their usual tender bloom, and the eyes had a bewildered +expression. Sibyl rubbed her hands across them. + +"I don't understand," she said to herself. "Perhaps I wasn't quite +pretty enough, perhaps that was the reason, but I don't know. I think +I'll go to my new nursery and sit down and think of father. Oh, I wish +mother hadn't--of course it's all right, and I am a silly girl, and I +get worser, not better, every day, and mother knows what is best for +me; but she might have let me 'splain things. I wish I hadn't a pain +here." Sibyl touched her breast with a pathetic gesture. + +"It's 'cos of father I feel so bad, it's 'cos they told lies of +father." She turned very slowly with the most mournful droop of her +head in the direction of the apartment set aside for nurse and +herself. She had thought much of this visit, and now this very first +afternoon a blow had come. Her mother had told her to do a hard thing. +She, Sibyl, was to be polite to Lord Grayleigh; she was to be polite +to that dreadful, smiling man, with the fair hair and the keen eyes, +who had spoken against her father. It was unfair, it was dreadful, to +expect this of her. + +"And mother would not even let me 'splain," thought the child. + +"Hullo!" cried a gay voice; "hullo! and what's the matter with little +Miss Beauty?" And Sibyl raised her eyes, with a start, to encounter +the keen, frank, admiring gaze of Gus. + +"Oh, I say!" he exclaimed, "aren't we fine! I say! you'll knock Freda +and Mabel into next week, if you go on at this rate. But, come to the +schoolroom; we want a game, and you can join." + +"I can't, Gus," replied Sibyl. + +"Why, what's the matter?" + +"I don't feel like playing games." + +"You are quite white about the gills. I say! has anybody hurt you?" + +"No, not exactly, Gus; but I want to be alone. I'll come by-and-by." + +"Somebody wasn't square with her," thought Gus, as Sibyl turned away. +"Queer little girl! But I like her all the same." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Sibyl's conduct was exemplary at dessert. She was quiet, she was +modest, she was extremely polite. When spoken to she answered in the +most correct manner. When guests smiled at her, she gave them a set +smile in return. She accepted just that portion of the dessert which +her mother most wished her to eat, eschewing unwholesome sweets, and +partaking mostly of grapes. Especially was she polite to Lord +Grayleigh, who called her to his side, and even put his arm round her +waist. He wondered afterwards why she shivered when he did this. But +she stood upright as a dart, and looked him full in the face with +those extraordinary eyes of hers. + +At last the children's hour, as it was called, came to an end, and the +four went round kissing and shaking hands with the different guests. +Mrs. Ogilvie put her hand for an instant on Sibyl's shoulder. + +"I am pleased with you," she said; "you behaved very nicely. Go to bed +now." + +"Will you come and see me, Mumsy--mother, I mean--before you go to +bed?" + +"Oh no, child, nonsense! you must be asleep hours before then. No, +this is good-night. Now go quietly." + +Sibyl did go quietly. Mrs. Ogilvie turned to her neighbor. + +"That is such an absurd custom," she said; "I must break her of it." + +"Break your little girl of what?" he asked. "She is a beautiful +child," he added. "I congratulate you on having such a charming +daughter." + +"I have no doubt she will make a very pretty woman," replied Mrs. +Ogilvie, "and I trust she will have a successful career; but what I +was alluding to now was her insane wish that I should go and say +good-night to her. Her father spoils that child dreadfully. He insists +on her staying up to our late dinner, which in itself is quite against +all my principles, and then will go up to her room every evening when +he happens to be at home. She lies awake for him at night, and they +talk sentiment to each other. Very bad, is it not; quite out of date." + +"I don't know," answered Mr. Rochester; "if it is an old custom it +seems to me it has good in it." As he spoke he thought again of the +eager little face, the pathetic soft eyes, the pleading in the voice. +Until within this last half-hour he had not known of Sibyl's +existence; but from this instant she was to come into his heart and +bear fruit. + +Meanwhile the child went straight to her room. + +"Won't you come to the schoolroom now?" asked Gus in a tone of +remonstrance. + +"No; mother said I was to go to bed," answered Sibyl. + +"How proper and good you have turned," cried Mabel. + +"Good-night," said Sibyl. She could be quite dignified when she +pleased. She allowed the girls to kiss her, and she shook hands with +Gus, and felt grown-up, and, on the whole, notwithstanding the +unsatisfied feeling at her heart, rather pleased with herself. She +entered the room she called the nursery, and it looked cheerful and +bright. Old nurse had had the fire lit, and was sitting by it. A +kettle steamed on the hob, and nurse's cup and saucer and teapot, and +some bread and butter and cakes, were spread on the table. But as +Sibyl came in the sense of satisfaction which she had felt for a +moment or two dropped away from her like a mantle, and she only knew +that the ache at her heart was worse than ever. She sat down quietly, +and did not speak, but gazed fixedly into the fire. + +"What is it, pet?" nurse said. "Is anything the matter?" + +"No," answered Sibyl. "Nursie, can I read the Bible a bit?" + +"Sakes alive!" cried nurse, for Sibyl had never been remarkable for +any religious tendency, "to be sure, my darling," she answered. "I +never go from home without my precious Bible. It is the one my mother +gave me when I was a little girl. I'll fetch it for you, dearie." + +"Thank you," replied Sibyl. + +Nurse returned, and the much-read, much-worn Bible was placed +reverently in Sibyl's hands. + +"Now, my little darling," said nurse, "you look quite white. You'll +just read a verse or two, and then you'll go off to your bed." + +"I want to find a special verse," said Sibyl. "When I have read it I +will go to bed." She knitted her brows and turned the pages in a +puzzled, anxious way. + +"What's fretting you, dear? I know the Bible, so to speak, from end to +end. Can old nursie help you in any way?" + +"I know the verse is somewhere, but I cannot find the place. I +remember reading it, and it has come back to me to-night." + +"What is it, dear?" + +"'God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble.'" + +"Oh, yes, love," answered nurse promptly, "that's in the Epistle of +St. James, fourth chapter, sixth verse. I learned the whole of the +Epistle for my mother when I was young, and I have never forgotten a +word of it. Here it is, dear." + +"But what are you fretting your head over that verse for?" asked the +puzzled old woman; "there's some that I could find for you a deal more +suitable to little ladies like yourself. There's a beautiful verse, +for instance, which says, 'Children, obey your parents in the Lord.' +That means all those in charge of you, dear, nurses and governesses +and all. I heard its meaning explained once very clear, and that was +how it was put." + +"There is not a bit about nurses and governesses in the Bible," said +Sibyl, who had no idea of being imposed upon, although she was in +trouble. "Never mind that other verse now, nursie, it's not that I'm +thinking of, it's the one you found about 'God resisteth the proud, +and giveth grace to the humble.' It seems to 'splain things." + +"What things, dear?" + +"Why, about mother. Nursie, isn't my mother quite the very humblest +woman in all the world?" + +"Oh, my goodness me, no!" exclaimed the woman under her breath. "I +wouldn't remark it, my dear," she said aloud. + +"That's 'cos you know so very little. You can't never guess what my +ownest mother said to me to-day, and I'm not going to tell you, only +that verse comforts me, and I understand now." + +Sibyl got up and asked nurse to take off her pink frock. She felt +quite cheerful and happy again. She knelt down in her white nightdress +and said her prayers. She always prayed for her father and mother in a +peculiar way. She never asked God to give them anything, they had +already got all that heart could wish. They were beautiful in person, +they were lovely in character, they were perfect in soul. She could +only thank God for them. So she thanked God now as usual. + +"Thank You, Jesus, for giving me father and mother," said Sibyl, "and +in especial for making my mother just so truly perfect that she is +humble. She does not like me to think too much of her. It is because +she is humble, and You give grace to the humble. It is a great comfort +to me, Jesus, to know that, because I could not quite understand my +mother afore dinner. Good-night, Jesus, I am going to sleep now; I am +quite happy." + +Sibyl got into bed, closed her eyes, and was soon sound asleep. + +On the following Monday Lord Grayleigh went to town, and there he had +a rather important interview with Philip Ogilvie. + +"I failed to understand your letter," he said, "and have come to you +for an explanation." + +Ogilvie was looking worried and anxious. + +"I thought my meaning plain enough," he replied, "but as you are here, +I will answer you; and first, I want to put a question to you. Why do +you wish me to be the assayer?" + +"For many reasons; amongst others, because I wish to do you a good +turn. For your position you are not too well off. This will mean +several thousands a year to you, if the vein is as rich as we hope it +will be. The alluvial we know is rich. It has washed at five ounces to +the ton." + +"But if there should not happen to be a rich vein beneath?" queried +Ogilvie, and as he spoke he watched his companion narrowly. + +Lord Grayleigh shrugged his shoulders. The action was significant. + +"I see," cried Ogilvie. He was silent for a moment, then he sprang +to his feet. "I have regarded you as my friend for some time, +Grayleigh, and there have been moments when I have been proud of your +acquaintanceship, but in the name of all that is honorable, and all +that is virtuous, why will you mix up a pretended act of benevolence +to me with--you know what it means--a fraudulent scheme? You are +determined that there shall be a rich vein below the surface. In +plain words, if there is not, you want a false assay of the Lombard +Deeps. That is the plain English of it, isn't it?" + +"Pooh! my dear Ogilvie, you use harsh words. Fraudulent! What does the +world--our world I mean--consist of? Those who make money, and those +who lose it. It is a great competition of skill--a mere duel of wits. +All is fair in love, war, and speculation." + +"Your emendation of that old proverb may be _fin de siecle_, but it +does not suit my notions," muttered Ogilvie, sitting down again. + +Grayleigh looked keenly at him. + +"You will be sorry for this," he said; "it means much to you. You +would be quite safe, you know that." + +"And what of the poor country parson, the widow, the mechanic? I grant +they are fools; but----" + +"What is the matter with you?" said Lord Grayleigh; "you never were so +scrupulous." + +"I don't know that I am scrupulous now. I shall be very glad to assay +the mine for you, if I may give you a----" + +"We need not enter into that," said Grayleigh, rising; "you have +already put matters into words which had better never have been +uttered. I will ask you to reconsider this: it is a task too +important to decline without weighing all the _pros_ and _cons_. You +shall have big pay for your services; big pay, you understand." + +"And it is that which at once tempts and repels me," said Ogilvie. +Then he paused, and said abruptly, "How is Sibyl? Have you seen much +of her?" + +"Your little daughter? I saw her twice. Once, when she was very dirty, +and rather rude to me, and a second time, when she was the perfection +of politeness and good manners." + +"Sibyl is peculiar," said Ogilvie, and his eyes gleamed with a flash +of the same light in them which Sibyl's wore at intervals. + +"She is a handsome child, it is a pity she is your only one, Ogilvie." + +"Not at all," answered Ogilvie; "I never wish for another, she +satisfies me completely." + +"Well, to turn to the present matter," said Lord Grayleigh; "you will +reconsider your refusal?" + +"I would rather not." + +"But if I as a personal favor beg you to do so." + +"There is not the slightest doubt that the pay tempts me," said +Ogilvie; "it would be a kindness on your part to close the matter now +finally, to relieve me from temptation. But suppose I were to--to +yield, what would the shareholders say?" + +"They would be managed. The shareholders will expect to pay the +engineer who assays the mine for them handsomely." + +Ogilvie stood in a dubious attitude, Grayleigh went up and laid his +hand on his shoulder. + +"I will assume," he said, "that you get over scruples which after all +may have no foundation, for the mine may be all that we wish it to be. +What I want to suggest is this. Someone must go to Australia to assay +the Lombard Deeps. If you will not take the post we must get someone +else to step into your shoes. The new claim was discovered by the +merest accident, and the reports state it to be one of the richest +that has ever been panned out. Of course that is as it may be. We will +present you, if you give a good assay, with five hundred shares in the +new syndicate. You can wait until the shares go up, and then sell out. +You will clear thousands of pounds. We will also pay your expenses and +compensate you handsomely for the loss of your time. This is Monday; +we want you to start on Saturday. Give me your decision on Wednesday +morning. I won't take a refusal now." + +Ogilvie was silent; his face was very white, and his lips were +compressed together. Soon afterward the two men parted. + +Lord Grayleigh returned to Grayleigh Manor by a late train, and +Ogilvie went back to his empty house. Amongst other letters which +awaited him was one with a big blot on the envelope. This blot was +surrounded by a circle in red ink, and was evidently of great moment +to the writer. The letter was addressed to "Philip Ogilvie, Esq.," in +a square, firm, childish hand, and the great blot stood a little away +from the final Esquire. It gave the envelope an altogether striking +and unusual appearance. The flap was sealed with violet wax, and had +an impression on it which spelt Sibyl. Ogilvie, when he received this +letter, took it up tenderly, looked at the blot on the cover of the +envelope, glanced behind him in a shamefaced way, pressed his lips to +the violet seal which contained his little daughter's name, then +sitting down in his chair, he opened the envelope. + +Sibyl was very good at expressing her feelings in words, but as yet +she was a poor scribe, and her orthography left much to be desired. +Her letter was somewhat short, and ran as follows:-- + + "DADDY DEAR,--Here's a blot to begin, and the blot means a + kiss. I will put sum more at the end of the letter. Pleas + kiss all the kisses for they com from the verry botom of my + hart. I have tried Daddy to be good cos of you sinse I left + home, but I am afraid I have been rather norty. Mother gets + more purfect evry day. She is bewtiful and humbel. Mother + said she wasn't purfect but she is, isn't she father? I miss + you awful, speshul at nights, cos mother thinks its good for + me not to lie awake for her to come and kiss me. But you + never think that and you always com, and I thank God so much + for having gived you to me father. Your SIBYL." + + "Father, what does 'scroopolus' mean? I want to know + speshul.--SIB." + +The letter finished with many of these strange irregular blots, which +Ogilvie kissed tenderly, and then folded up the badly-spelt little +epistle, and slipped it into his pocket-book. Then he drew his chair +forward to where his big desk stood, and, leaning his elbows on it, +passed his hands through his thick, short hair. He was puzzled as he +had never been in all his life before. Should he go, or should he +stay? Should he yield to temptation, and become rich and prosperous, +or should he retain his honor, and face the consequences? He knew +well--he had seen them coming for a long time--the consequences he was +about to face would not be pleasant. They spelt very little short of +ruin. He suddenly opened a drawer, and took from its depths a sheaf of +accounts which different tradespeople had sent in to his wife. Mrs. +Ogilvie was hopelessly reckless and extravagant. Money in her hand was +like water; it flowed away as she touched it. Her jeweler's bill alone +amounted to thousands of pounds. If Ogilvie accepted the offer now +made to him he might satisfy these pressing creditors, and not deprive +Sibyl of her chance of an income by-and-by. Sibyl! As the thought of +her face came to him, he groaned inwardly. He wished sometimes that +God had never given him such a treasure. + +"I am unworthy of my little Angel," he said to himself. Then he +started up and began to pace the room. "And yet I would not be without +her for all the wealth in the world, for all the greatness and all the +fame," he cried; "she is more to me than everything else on earth. If +ever she finds out what I really am, I believe I shall go raving mad. +I must keep a straight front, must keep as clean as I can for Sibyl's +sake. O God, help me to be worthy of her!" + +He read the badly-spelt, childish letter once again, and then he +thrust the bills out of sight and thought of other liabilities which +he himself had incurred, till his thoughts returned to the tempting +offer made to him. + +"Shall I risk it?" he said to himself. "Shall I risk the chance of the +mine being really good, and go to Australia and see if it is as rich +as the prospectuses claim it to be. But suppose it is not? Well, in +that case I am bound to make it appear so. Five ounces of gold to +every ton; it seems _bona fide_ enough. It it is _bona fide_, why +should not I have my share of the wealth? It is as legitimate a way of +earning money as any other," and he swerved again in the direction of +Lord Grayleigh's offer. + +Lord Grayleigh had given him until Wednesday to decide. + +"I am sorry to seem to force your hand," that nobleman had said to him +at parting, "but if you distinctly refuse we must send another man, +and whoever goes must start on Saturday." + +A trip to Australia, how he would enjoy it! To be quite away from +London and his present conventional life. The only pain was the +thought of parting with Sibyl. But he would do his business quickly, +and come back and clasp her in his arms, and kiss her again and look +into her eyes and--turn round; yes, he would turn short round and +choose the right path, and be what she really thought him, a good man. +In a very small degree, he would be the sort of man his child imagined +him. + +As these thoughts flashed before his mind he forgot that dinner was +cooling in the dining-room, that he himself had eaten nothing for some +hours, and that a curious faintness which he had experienced once or +twice before had stolen over him. He did not like it nor quite +understand it. He rose, crossed the room, and was about to ring the +bell when a sudden spasm of most acute pain passed like a knife +through his chest. He was in such agony that for a moment he was +unable to stir. The sharpness of the pain soon went off, and he sank +into a chair faint and trembling. He was now well enough to ring his +bell. He did so, and the footman appeared. + +"Bring me brandy, and be quick," said Ogilvie. + +The man started when he saw his face. He soon returned with the +stimulant, which Ogilvie drank off. The agony in his chest subsided by +degrees, and he was able to go into the dining-room and even to eat. +He had never before had such terrible and severe pain, and now he was +haunted by the memory of his father, who had died suddenly of acute +disease of the heart. + +After dinner he went, as usual, to his club, where he met a friend +whom he liked. They chatted about many things, and the fears and +apprehensions of the puzzled man dropped gradually from him. It was +past midnight when Ogilvie returned home. He had now forgotten all +about the pain in his chest. It had completely passed away. He felt +as well and vigorous as ever. In the night, however, he slept badly, +had tiresome dreams, and was much haunted by the thought of his child. +If by any chance he were to die now! If, for instance, he died on his +way to Australia, he would leave Sibyl badly provided for. A good deal +of his private means had already been swallowed up by his own and his +wife's extravagant living, and what was left of it had been settled +absolutely on his wife at the time of their marriage. Although, of +course, this money at her mother's death would revert to Sibyl, he had +a presentiment, which he knew was founded on a firm basis, that Mrs. +Ogilvie might be careless, inconsiderate--not kind, in the true sense +of the word, to the little girl. If it came to be a tussle between +Sibyl's needs and her mother's fancied necessities, Ogilvie's +intuitions told him truly that Sibyl would go to the wall. + +"I must do something better than that for my little daughter," thought +the man. "I will not go to Australia until I have decided that point. +If I go, I shall make terms, and it will be for Sibyl's sake." + +But again that uncomfortable, tiresome conscience of his began to +speak; and that conscience told him that if he went to Australia for +the purpose of blinding the eyes of possible shareholders in London, +he would in reality be doing the very worst possible thing for his +child. + +He tossed about between one temptation and another for the remainder +of the night, and arose in the morning unrefreshed. As he was +dressing, however, a thought came to him which he hailed as a possible +relief. Why not do the right thing right from the beginning; tell +Grayleigh that the proposed commission to visit Australia was +altogether distasteful to him; that he washed his hands of the great +new syndicate; that they might sweep in their gold, but he would have +nothing to say to it? At the same time he might insure his life for +ten thousand pounds. It would be a heavy interest to pay, no doubt, +and they would probably have to live in a smaller house, and he and +his wife would have to put down their expenses in various ways, but he +would have the comfort of knowing that whatever happened Sibyl would +not be without means of subsistence. + +"When I have done that, and absolutely provided for her future, I +shall have a great sense of rest," thought the man. "I will go and see +Dr. Rashleigh, of the Crown and Life Insurance Company, as soon as +ever I get to the City. That is a happy thought." + +He smiled cheerfully to himself, ran downstairs, and ate a hearty +breakfast. A letter from his wife lay upon his plate. He did not even +open it. He thrust it into his pocket and went off to the City, +telling his servant as he did so that he would be back to dinner. + +As soon as he got to his office he read his letters, gave his clerks +directions, and went at once to see Dr. Rashleigh, of the Insurance +Company. + +Rashleigh happened to be one of his special friends, and he knew his +hours. It was a little unusual to expect him to examine him for an +insurance without an appointment; but he believed, in view of his +possible visit to Australia, that Rashleigh would be willing to +overlook ceremony. + +He arrived at the office, saw one of the clerks downstairs, heard that +Rashleigh was in and would soon be disengaged, and presently was shown +into the doctor's consulting room. + +Rashleigh was a grey-haired man of about sixty years of age. He spent +a couple of hours every day in the consulting room of the Crown and +Life Insurance Company. He rose now, and extended his hand with +pleasure when Ogilvie appeared. + +"My dear Ogilvie, and what do you want with me? Have you at last +listened to my entreaties that you should insure your life in a +first-class office?" + +"Something of the kind," said Ogilvie, forcing a smile, for again that +agony which had come over him yesterday assailed him. He knew that his +heart was throbbing faintly, and he remembered once more that his +father had died of heart disease. Oh, it was all nonsense; of course +he had nothing to fear. He was a man in his prime, not much over +thirty--he was all right. + +Rashleigh asked him a few questions. + +"I may have to go to Australia rather suddenly," said Ogilvie, "and I +should like first to insure my life. I want to settle the money on my +child before I leave home." + +"How large a sum do you propose to insure for?" asked the doctor. + +"I have given the particulars to the clerk downstairs. I should like +to insure for ten thousand pounds." + +"Well, I daresay that can be managed. You are an excellent client, and +quite a young man. Now just let me sound your lungs, and listen to +your heart." + +Ogilvie removed his necktie, unbuttoned his shirt, and placed himself +in the doctor's hands. + +Dr. Rashleigh made his examination without comment, slowly and +carefully. At last it was over. + +"Well?" said Ogilvie, just glancing at him. "It's all right, I +suppose." + +"It is not the custom for a doctor at an insurance office to tell his +patient anything about the result of the examination," was Rashleigh's +answer. "You'll hear all in good time." + +"But there really is no time to lose, and you are an old friend. You +look grave. If it cannot be done, of course it cannot, but I should +like to know." + +"When do you propose to go to Australia?" + +"I may not go at all. In fact if----" Ogilvie suddenly leaned against +the table. Once again he felt faint and giddy. "If this is all right, +I shall probably not go." + +"But suppose it is not all right?" + +"Then I sail on Saturday." + +"I may as well tell you the truth," said Rashleigh; "you are a brave +man. My dear fellow, the office cannot insure you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Heart," said Rashleigh. + +"Heart! Mine? Not affected?" + +"Yes." + +"Seriously?" + +"It is hard to answer that question. The heart is a strange organ, and +capable of a vast amount of resuscitation; nevertheless, in your case +the symptoms are grave; the aortic valve is affected. It behooves you +to be very careful." + +"Does this mean that I----" Ogilvie dropped into a chair. "Rashleigh," +he said suddenly, "I had a horrible attack last night. I forgot it +this morning when I came to you, but it was horrible while it lasted. +I thought myself, during those moments of torture, within a +measurable--a very measurable distance of the end." + +"Describe your sensations," said Rashleigh. + +Ogilvie did so. + +"Now, my dear fellow, I have a word to say. This insurance cannot be +done. But, for yourself, you must avoid excitement. I should like to +prescribe a course of living for you. I have studied the heart +extensively." + +"Will nothing put me straight? Cure me, I mean?" + +"I fear not." + +"Well, good-by, Rashleigh; I will call round to see you some evening." + +"Do. I should like you to have the advice of a specialist, Anderson, +the greatest man in town on the heart." + +"But where is the use? If you cannot cure me, he cannot." + +"You may live for years and years, and die of something else in the +end." + +"Just what was said to my father, who did not live for years and +years," answered the man. "I won't keep you any longer, Rashleigh." + +He left the office and went down into the street. As he crossed the +Poultry and got once more into the neighborhood of his own office, one +word kept ringing in his ears, "Doomed." + +He arrived at his office and saw his head clerk. + +"You don't look well, Mr. Ogilvie." + +"Never mind about my looks, Harrison," replied Ogilvie. "I have a +great deal to do, and need your best attention." + +"Certainly, sir; but, all the same, you don't look well." + +"Looks are nothing," replied Ogilvie. "I shall soon be all right. +Harrison, I am off to Australia on Saturday." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +On that same Tuesday Lord Grayleigh spent a rather anxious day. For +many reasons it would never do for him to press Ogilvie, and yet if +Ogilvie declined to go to Queensland matters might not go quite +smoothly with the new Syndicate. He was the most trusted and eminent +mine assayer in London, and had before now done useful work for +Grayleigh, who was chairman of several other companies. Up to the +present Grayleigh, a thoroughly worldly and hard-headed man of +business, had made use of Ogilvie entirely to his own benefit and +satisfaction. It was distinctly unpleasant to him, therefore, to find +that just at the most crucial moment in his career, when everything +depended on Ogilvie's subservience to his chief's wishes, he should +turn restive. + +"That sort of man with a conscience is intolerable," thought Lord +Grayleigh, and then he wondered what further lever he might bring to +bear in order to get Ogilvie to consent to the Australian visit. + +He was thinking these thoughts, pacing up and down alone in a retired +part of the grounds, when he heard shrill screams of childish +laughter, and the next moment Sibyl, in one of her white frocks, the +flounces badly torn, her hat off and hair in wild disorder, rushed +past. She was closely followed by Freda, Mabel and Gus being not far +behind. + +"Hullo!" said Lord Grayleigh; "come here, little woman, and account +for yourself." + +Sibyl paused in her mad career. She longed to say, "I'm not going +to account for myself to you," but she remembered her mother's +injunction. She had been on her very best behavior all Sunday, Monday, +and up to now on Tuesday, but her fit of goodness was coming to an +end. She was in the mood to be obstreperous, naughty, and wilful; but +the thought of her mother, who was so gently following in the path of +the humble, restrained her. + +"If mother, who is an angel, a perfect angel, can think herself +naughty and yet wish me to be good, I ought to help her by being as +good as I possibly can," she thought. + +So she stopped and looked at Lord Grayleigh with the wistful, puzzled +expression which at once repelled and attracted him. His own daughters +also drew up, panting. + +"We were chasing Sib," they said; "she challenged us. She said that, +although she does live in town, she could beat us." + +"And it looked uncommonly like it when I saw you all," was Grayleigh's +response. "Sibyl has long legs for her age." + +Sibyl looked down at the members in question, and put on a charming +pout. Grayleigh laughed, and going up to her side, laid his hand on +her shoulder. + +"I saw your father yesterday. Shall I tell you about him?" + +This, indeed, was a powerful bait. Sibyl's soft lips trembled +slightly. The wistful look in her eyes became appealing. + +"Pathetic eyes, more pathetic than any dog's," thought Lord Grayleigh. +He took her hand. + +"You and I will walk by ourselves for a little," he said. "Run away, +children. Sibyl will join you in a few moments." + +Sibyl, as if mesmerized, now accompanied Lord Grayleigh. She disliked +her present position immensely, and yet she wondered if it was given +to her by Lord Jesus, as a special opportunity which she was on no +account to neglect. Should she tell Lord Grayleigh what she really +thought of him? But for her mother she would not have hesitated for a +moment, but that mother had been very kind to her during the last two +days, and Sibyl had enjoyed studying her character from a new point of +view. Mother was polite to people, even though they were not quite +perfect. Mother always looked sweet and tidy and ladylike, and +beautifully dressed. Mother never romped, nor tore her clothes, nor +climbed trees. It was an uninteresting life from Sibyl's point of +view, and yet, perhaps, it was the right life. Up to the present the +child had never seriously thought of her own conduct at all. She +accepted the fact with placidity that she herself was not good. It was +rather interesting to be "not good," and yet to live in the house with +two perfectly angelic beings. It seemed to make their goodness all the +whiter. At the present moment she longed earnestly to be "not good." + +Lord Grayleigh, holding her hand, advanced in the direction of a +summer-house. + +"We will sit here and talk, shall we?" he said. + +"Yes, shall us?" replied Sibyl. + +Lord Grayleigh smiled; he placed himself in a comfortable chair, and +motioned Sibyl to take another. She drew a similar chair forward, +placed it opposite to her host, and sat on it. It was a high chair, +and her feet did not reach the ground. + +"I 'spect I'm rather short for my age," she said, looking down and +speaking in a tone of apology. + +"Why, how old are you?" he asked. + +"Quite old," she replied gravely; "I was eight at five minutes past +seven Monday fortnight back." + +"You certainly have a vast weight of years on your head," he replied, +looking at her gravely. + +She did not see the sarcasm, she was thinking of something else. +Suddenly she looked him full in the face. + +"You called me away from the other children 'cos you wanted to speak +about father, didn't you? Please tell me all about him. Is he quite +well?" + +"Of course he is." + +"Did he ask about me?" + +"Yes, he asked me how you were." + +"And what did you say?" + +"I replied, with truth, that I had twice had the pleasure of seeing +you; once when you were very rude to me, once when you were equally +polite." + +Sibyl's eyes began to dance. + +"What are you thinking of, eight-year-old?" asked Lord Grayleigh. + +"Of you," answered Sibyl with promptitude. + +"Come, that's very interesting; what about me? Now, be quite frank and +tell me why you were rude to me the first time we met?" + +"May I?" said Sibyl with great eagerness. "Do you really, truly mean +it?" + +"I certainly mean it." + +"You won't tell--mother?" + +"I won't tell--mother," said Lord Grayleigh, mimicking her manner. + +Sibyl gave a long, deep sigh. + +"I am glad," she said with emphasis. "I don't want my ownest mother to +be hurt. She tries so hard, and she is so beautiful and perfect. It's +most 'portant that I should speak to you, and if you will promise----" + +"I have promised; whatever you say shall be secret. Now, out with it." + +"You won't like it," said Sibyl. + +"You must leave me to judge of that." + +"I am going to be fwightfully rude." + +"Indeed! that is highly diverting." + +"I don't know what diverting is, but it will hurt you." + +"I believe I can survive the pain." + +Sibyl looked full at him then. + +"Are you laughing at me?" she said, and she jumped down from her high +chair. + +"I would not dream of doing so." + +The curious amused expression died out of Lord Grayleigh's eyes. He +somehow felt that he was confronting Sibyl's father with all those +unpleasant new scruples in full force. + +"Speak away, little girl," he said, "I promise not to laugh. I will +listen to you with respect. You are an uncommon child, very like your +father." + +"Thank you for saying that, but it isn't true; for father's perfect, +and I'm not. I will tell you now why I was rude, and why I am going to +be rude again, monstrous rude. It is because you told lies." + +"Indeed!" said Lord Grayleigh, pretending to be shocked. "Do you know +that that is a shocking accusation? If a man, for instance, had said +that sort of thing to another man a few years back, it would have been +a case for swords." + +"I don't understand what that means," said Sibyl. + +"For a duel; you have heard of a duel?" + +"Oh, in history, of course," said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling, "and one +man kills another man. They run swords through each other until one of +them gets killed dead. I wish I was a man." + +"Do you really want to run a sword through me?" + +Sibyl made no answer to this; she shut her lips firmly, her eyes +ablaze. + +"Come," said Lord Grayleigh, "it is unfair to accuse a man and not to +prove your accusation. What lies have I told?" + +"About my father." + +"Hullo! I suppose I am stupid, but I fail to understand." + +"I will try and 'splain. I didn't know that you was stupid, but you do +tell lies." + +"Well, go on; you are putting it rather straight, you know." + +"I want to." + +"Fire away then." + +"You told someone--I don't know the name--you told somebody that my +father was unscroopolus." + +"Indeed," said Lord Grayleigh. He colored, and looked uneasy. "I told +somebody--that is diverting." + +"It's not diverting," said Sibyl, "it's cruel, it's mean, it's wrong; +it's lies--black lies. Now you know." + +"But whom did I tell?" + +"Somebody, and somebody told me--I'm not going to tell who told me." + +"Even suppose I did say anything of the sort, what do you know about +that word?" + +"I found it out. An unscroopolus person is a person who doesn't act +right. Do you know that my father never did wrong, never from the time +he was borned? My father is quite perfect, God made him so." + +"Your father is a very nice fellow, Sibyl." + +"He is much better than nice, he is perfect; he never did anything +wrong. He is perfect, same as Lord Jesus is perfect." + +The little girl looked straight out into the summer landscape. Her +lips trembled, on each cheek there flushed a crimson rose. + +Lord Grayleigh shuffled his feet. Had anyone in all the world told him +that he would have listened quietly, and with a sense of respect, to +such a story as he was now hearing, he would have roared with +laughter. But he was not at all inclined to laugh now that he found +himself face to face with Sibyl. + +"And mother is perfect, too," she said, turning and facing him. + +Then he did laugh; he laughed aloud. + +"Oh, no," he said. + +"So you don't wonder that I hate you," continued Sibyl, taking no +notice of that last remark. "It's 'cos you like to tell lies about +good people. My father is perfect, and you called him unscroopolus. No +wonder I hate you." + +"Listen now, little girl." Lord Grayleigh took the hot, trembling +hand, and drew the child to his side. + +"Don't shrink away, don't turn from me," he said; "I am not so bad as +you make me out. If I did make use of such an expression, I have +forgotten it. Men of the world say lots of things that little girls +don't understand. Little girls of eight years old, if they are to grow +up nice and good, and self-respecting, must take the world on trust. +So you must take me on trust, and believe that even if I did say what +you accuse me of saying, I still have a great respect for your father. +I think him a right down _good_ fellow." + +"The best in all the world?" queried Sibyl. + +"I am sure at least of one thing, that no little girl ever had a +fonder father." + +"And you own up you told a lie? You do own up that father's quite +perfect?" + +"Men like myself don't care to own themselves in the wrong," said Lord +Grayleigh, "and the fact is--listen, you queer little mortal--I don't +like perfect people. It is true that I have never met any." + +"You have met my father and my mother." + +"Come, Sibyl, shall we make a compromise? I like you, I want you to +like me. Forget that I said what I myself have forgotten, and believe +that I have a very great respect for your father. Come, if he were +here, he would ask you to be friendly with me." + +"Would he?" said the child. She looked wistful and interested. "There +are lots of things I want to be 'splained to me," she said. Then, +after a moment--"I'll think whether I'll be friends with you, and +I'll let you know, may be to-morrow." + +As she said the last words she pushed aside his detaining hand, and +ran out of the summer-house. He heard her eager, quick steps as she +ran away, and a moment later there came her gay laughter back to him +from the distance. She had joined the other children, and was happy in +her games. + +"Poor little maid!" he said to himself, and he sat on grave and +silent. He did not like to confess it, but Sibyl's words had affected +him. + +"The faith she has in that poor fellow is quite beautiful," was his +inward thought; "it seems a sin to break it. If he does go to +Queensland it will be broken, and somewhat rudely. I could send +Atherton. Atherton is not the man for our purpose. His report won't +affect the public as Ogilvie's report would, but he has never yet been +troubled by conscience, and Sibyl's faith will be unshaken. It is +worth considering. It is not every man who has got a little daughter +like Sibyl." + +These thoughts came and worried him; presently he rose with a laugh. + +"What am I," he said to himself, "to have my way disturbed by the +words of a mere child?" And just then he heard the soft rustle of a +silk dress, and, looking up, he saw the pretty face of Mrs. Ogilvie. + +"Come in and sit down," he said, jumping up and offering her a chair. +"It is cool and yet not draughty in here. I have just had the pleasure +of a conversation with your little daughter." + +"Indeed! I do hope she has been conducting herself properly." + +"I must not repeat what she said; I can only assure you that she +behaved charmingly." + +"I am so relieved; Sibyl so often does not behave charmingly, that you +don't wonder that I should ask you the question." + +"She has a very great respect for you," said Lord Grayleigh; "it makes +me think you a better woman to have a child regard you as she does." + +Mrs. Ogilvie fidgeted; she had seated herself on a low rustic chair, +and she looked pretty and elegant in her white summer dress, and her +hat softening the light in her beautiful eyes. She toyed with her +white lace parasol, and looked, as Sibyl had looked a short time ago, +across the lovely summer scene; but in her eyes there shone the world +with all its temptations and all its lures, and Sibyl's had made +acquaintance with the stars, and the lofty peaks of high principle, +and honor, and knew nothing of the real world. + +Lord Grayleigh, in a kind of confused way which he did not himself +understand, noticed the difference in the glance of the child and the +woman. + +"Your little girl has the highest opinion of you," he repeated; "the +very highest." + +"And I wish she would not talk or think such nonsense," said Mrs. +Ogilvie, in a burst of irritation. "You know well that I am not what +Sibyl thinks me. I am an ordinary, everyday woman. I hope I am"--she +smiled--"charming." + +"You are that, undoubtedly," said the nobleman, slightly bowing his +head. + +"I hope I am what a man most likes in a woman, agreeable, charming, +and fairly amiable; but I am no saint, and I don't want to be. Sibyl's +attitude towards me is therefore most irritating, and I am doing my +utmost----" + +"You are doing what?" said Lord Grayleigh. He rose, and stood by the +summer-house door. + +"To open her eyes." + +"I would not if I were you," he said, gravely; "it is not often that a +child has her faith. To shake it means a great deal." + +"What are you talking about now?" + +"I don't often read my Bible," he continued, "but, of course, I did as +a boy--most boys do. My mother was a good woman. I am thinking of +something said in that Holy Book." + +"You are quite serious; I never knew you in this mood before." + +"I must tell it to you. 'Whosoever shall offend one of these little +ones, it were better that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and +he were cast into the depths of the sea.'" + +"How unpleasant," said Mrs. Ogilvie, after a pause, "and I rather fail +to see the connection. Shall we change the subject?" + +"With pleasure." + +"What arrangement did you make with Philip yesterday?" + +"I made no absolute arrangement, but I think he will do according to +your wishes." + +"Then he will assay the mine, act as the engineer to the company?" + +"Precisely." + +"Has he promised?" + +"Not yet, but my impression is that he will do it." + +"What does assaying the mine mean?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie knitted her pretty dark brows, and looked as inquisitive +and childish at that moment as Sibyl herself. + +"To assay a mine means to find out accurately what it contains," said +Lord Grayleigh. Once again his eyes turned away from his questioner. +He had very little respect for Mrs. Ogilvie's conscience, but he did +not want to meet anyone's gaze at that instant. + +"Nevertheless," he continued, after a pause, "your husband has not +definitely promised, and it is on the cards that he may refuse." + +"He will be a madman if he does," cried Mrs. Ogilvie, and she stamped +her pretty foot impatiently. + +"According to Sibyl's light, he will be the reverse of that; but then, +Sibyl, and your husband also, believe in such a thing as conscience." + +"Philip's conscience!" said the wife, with a sneer; "what next?" + +"It appears to me," said Lord Grayleigh, "that he has an active one." + +"It has come to life very quickly, then. This is mere humbug." + +"Let me speak. To be frank with you, I respect your husband's +conscience; and, perhaps, if you respected it more----" + +"I really will not stay here to be lectured," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "It +is to your advantage, doubtless, that Philip should do something for +you; it must be to your advantage, for you are going to pay him well. +Will he do it, or will he not? That is the question I want answered." + +"And I cannot answer it, for I do not know." + +"But you think he will?" + +"That is my impression." + +"You can, at least, tell me what occurred." + +"I can give you an outline of what occurred. I made him an offer to go +to Queensland." + +"To go where?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, looking slightly startled. + +"As the mine happens to be in Queensland, how can he assay it in +England?" + +"I didn't know." + +"Yes, if he does anything, he must go to Queensland. He must see the +mine or mines himself; his personal report is essential. He will be +paid well, and will receive a large number of shares." + +"What do you mean by being paid well?" + +"He will have his expenses, and something over." + +"Something over! that is a very elastic term." + +"In your husband's case it will mean thousands." + +"Oh, I see; and then the shares?" + +"The shares will practically make him a rich man." + +"Then of course he will consent. I will go at once, and send him a +line." She turned to leave the summer-house. Lord Grayleigh followed +her. He laid his hand for an instant on her slim arm. + +"If I were you," he said, and there was an unwonted tremble in his +voice as he spoke, "if I were you, upon my honor, I'd leave him +alone." + +"Leave him alone now? Why should not the wife influence the husband +for his own good?" + +"Very well," said Lord Grayleigh; "I only ventured to make a +suggestion." + +She looked at him in a puzzled way, raised her brows, and said: + +"I never found you so disagreeable before." She then left the +summer-house. + +Lord Grayleigh stood still for a moment, then, with quick strides, he +went in the direction of the shrubbery. Sibyl, hot, excited, +breathless after her game, did not even see him. He called her and she +stopped. + +"May I speak to you?" he said. He had the courteous manner to her +which he did not vouch-safe to many of his gay lady acquaintances. + +She ran to his side at once. + +"Don't you want to send your father a letter by this post?" + +"Yes, of course; is there time?" + +"I will make time; go into the house and write to him." + +"But why?" + +"He would like to hear from you." + +"Do you want me to say anything special?" + +"Nothing special; write to him from your heart, that is all." And then +Lord Grayleigh turned away in the direction of his stables. He ordered +the groom to saddle his favorite horse, and was soon careering across +country. Sibyl's letter to her father was short, badly spelt, and +brimful of love. Mrs. Ogilvie's was also short, and brimful of +worldliness. + +The two letters, each as wide as the poles apart in spirit and in +intention, met in the post-box, and were each carried as rapidly as +mail trains could take them to the metropolis. + +On the next morning these letters lay beside Philip Ogilvie's plate at +breakfast. Sibyl's was well blotted and sealed with her favorite +violet seal. Mrs. Ogilvie's was trim, neat, and without a blemish. +Ogilvie read them both, first the mother's, then the child's. Sibyl's +was almost all kisses: hardly any words, just blots and kisses. +Ogilvie did not press his lips to the kisses this time. He read the +letter quickly, thrust it into his pocket, and once more turned his +attention to what his wife had said. He smiled sarcastically as he +read. The evening before he had written Lord Grayleigh accepting the +proffered engagement. The die was cast. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +The following letter reached Philip Ogilvie late that same evening:-- + + MY DEAR OGILVIE, + + Your decision is naturally all that can be desired, and I + only hope you may never live to regret it. I have, most + unfortunately, given my ankle a bad sprain. I had a fall + yesterday when out riding, and am obliged to lie up for a + day or two. There is much that I should wish to talk over + with you before you go to Queensland. Can you come down here + to-morrow by the first train? I will not detain you an hour + longer than I can help. All other arrangements are in the + hands of my agents, Messrs. Spielmann & Co. + + Yours sincerely, + GRAYLEIGH. + +Ogilvie read this letter quickly. He knit his brow as he did so. It +annoyed him a good deal. + +"I did not want to go there," he thought. "I am doing this principally +for the sake of the child. I can arrange all financial matters through +Spielmann. Grayleigh wants this thing done; I alone can do it to his +satisfaction and to the satisfaction of the public. He must pay +me--what he pays will be Sibyl's, the provision for her future. But I +don't want to see the child--until all this dirty work is over. If I +come back things may be altered. God only knows what may have +occurred. The mine may be all right, there may be deliverance, but I +didn't want to see her before I go. It is possible that I may not be +able to keep my composure. There are a hundred things which make an +interview between the child and me undesirable." + +He thought and thought, and at last rose from his chair and began to +pace the room. He had not suffered from his heart since his interview +with Dr. Rashleigh. He gave it but scant consideration now. + +"If I have a fatal disease it behooves me to act as if I were +absolutely sound," he said to himself. And he had so acted after the +first shock of Rashleigh's verdict had passed off. But he did not like +the thought of seeing Sibyl. Still, Grayleigh's letter could not be +lightly disregarded. If Grayleigh wished to see him and could not come +to town, it was essential that he should go to him. + +He rang his bell and sent off a telegram to the effect that he would +arrive at Grayleigh Manor at an early hour on the following day. + +This telegram Lord Grayleigh showed to Mrs. Ogilvie before she went to +bed that night. + +"He has consented to go, as of course you are well aware," said Lord +Grayleigh, "and he comes here to see me to-morrow. But I would not say +anything about his departure for Queensland to your little daughter, +until after his visit. He may have something to say in the matter. Let +him, if he wishes it, be the one to break it to her." + +"But why should not the child know? How ridiculous you are!" + +"That is exactly as her father pleases," replied Lord Grayleigh. "I +have a kind of intuition that he may want to tell her himself. Anyhow, +I trust you will oblige me in the matter." + +Mrs. Ogilvie pouted. She was not enjoying herself as much at Grayleigh +Manor as she had expected, and, somehow or other, she felt that she +was in disgrace. This was by no means an agreeable sensation. She +wondered why she was not in higher spirits. To visit Australia +nowadays was a mere nothing. Her husband would be back again, a rich +man, in six months at the farthest. During those six months she +herself might have a good time. There were several country houses +where she might visit. Her visiting list was already nearly full. She +would take Sibyl with her, although Sibyl sometimes was the reverse +of comforting; but it looked effective to see the handsome mother and +the beautiful child together, and Sibyl, when she did not go too far, +said very pathetic and pretty things about her. Oh yes, she and her +little daughter would have a good time, while the husband and father +was earning money for them in Australia: while the husband and father +was raking in gold, they might really enjoy themselves. + +As she thought of this, Mrs. Ogilvie felt so light-hearted that she +could have skipped. Those debts which had weighed so on what she was +pleased to call her conscience, would be liquidated once and for all, +and in the future she would have plenty of money. It was the be-all of +existence to her feeble soul. She would have it in abundance in the +time which lay before her. + +"Philip is a wise man. It was very silly of him to hesitate and make a +fuss," she thought; "but he has decided wisely, as I knew he would. I +shall give him a kiss when I see him, and tell him that I am quite +pleased with him." + +She went to bed, therefore, cheerful, and the next morning put on her +very prettiest dress in order to meet her husband. + +Ogilvie walked from the little station, which was only half a mile +away. Mrs. Ogilvie, going slowly up the avenue, saw him coming to +meet her. She stood under the shade of a great overhanging beech tree, +and waited until he appeared. + +"Well, Mildred, and how are you?" said her husband. He took her hand, +and, bending forward, brushed the lightest of kisses against her +cheek. + +"Quite well," she replied. "Is not the day pleasant? I am so glad +about everything, Phil. But you don't look quite the thing yourself. +Have you taken cold or suffered from one of those nasty rheumatic +attacks?" + +"I am all right," he answered shortly. "I have a very few moments to +be here, as I want to catch the 12.30 back. Do you know if Lord +Grayleigh is anywhere to be found?" + +"I saw him half an hour ago. I think you will find him in the +smoking-room. He is expecting you." + +"And"--Ogilvie glanced to right and left--"the child?" + +"She is with the other children. Shall I send her to you?" + +"Not yet." + +"It is so nice of you to go, Phil; it will do you no end of good. You +will enjoy your voyage," continued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning now and +laying her hand on her husband's arm. + +Mr. Rochester, who was quite a young man himself, and was deeply +occupied at this time with thoughts of love and marriage, happened to +see the pair as they sauntered by together. He knew nothing, of +course, of Ogilvie's intended visit to Australia, nor was he in any +sense of the word behind the scenes. On the contrary, he thought that +Mrs. Ogilvie and her husband made a perfect picture of beautiful love +between husband and wife. + +"It is good of you," pursued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning once more to her +husband. "I am greatly obliged. I am more than obliged, I am relieved +and--and satisfied. We shall have a happy life together when you come +back. There are, of course, little matters we ought to talk over +before we go." + +"Debts, you mean," said Ogilvie, bluntly. "I opened your bills in your +absence. They will be----" + +"Oh, Phil!" Mrs. Ogilvie's face turned very white. + +"I will speak about them before I leave," he continued. "Now I must +find Grayleigh." + +"Is it true that you are going on Saturday?" + +"Quite true." + +"Had I not better return to town with you? There will be several +things to put in order." + +"I can write to you, Mildred. Now that you are here you had better +stay here. The change will be good for you. You need not return to +the house in town before next week." + +"If you really don't want me, I am certainly enjoying myself here." + +"I don't want you," he replied, but as he spoke his grey eyes looked +wistful. He turned for an instant and glanced at her. He noted the +sunny, lovely hair, the agile, youthful, rounded figure. Once he had +loved her passionately. + +"Sibyl will be delighted to see you," continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "She has +been, on the whole, behaving very nicely. Of course, making both +friends and foes, as is her usual impetuous way." + +"That reminds me," said Ogilvie. "I shall see Sibyl before I leave; +but that reminds me." + +"Of what?" + +"I do not wish her to be told." + +"Told what? What do you mean? My dear Phil, you are eccentric." + +"I have no time to dispute the point, Mildred. I wish to give one +hasty direction, which is to be obeyed. Sibyl is not to be told that I +am going to Australia." + +"What, never?" + +"She must be told when I am gone, but not till then. I will write to +her, and thus break the news. She is not to be told to-day, not until +she gets home, you understand? I won't go at all if you tell her." + +"Oh, of course, I understand," said Mrs. Ogilvie, in a frightened way; +"but why should not the child hear what really is good tidings?" + +"I do not wish it. Now, have you anything further to say, for I must +see Lord Grayleigh immediately." + +Mrs. Ogilvie clutched her husband's arm. + +"You will leave me plenty of money when you go, will you not?" + +"You shall have a bank-book and an account, but you must be careful. +My affairs are not in the most prosperous condition, and your bills +are terribly heavy." + +"My bills! but I really----" + +"We will not dispute them. They shall be paid before I go." + +"Oh, my dear Philip, and you are not angry?" + +"They shall be paid, Mildred. The liquidation of your debts is part of +the reward for taking up this loathsome work." + +"Philip, how ridiculously morbid you are!" + +The husband and wife walked slower and slower. Ogilvie saw Grayleigh +standing on the steps. + +"There is Lord Grayleigh," he said. "I must go at once. Yes, the +bills will be paid." He laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. + +"There is nothing else, is there, Mildred?" + +"No," she began, then she hesitated. + +"What more?" + +"A trinket, it took my fancy--a diamond cross--you noticed it. I could +not resist it." + +"How much?" said the man. His face was very stern and white, and there +was a blue look round his lips. + +"Two thousand pounds." + +"Let me have the bill to-morrow at latest. It shall be cleared. Now +don't keep me." + +He strode past her and went up to where Lord Grayleigh was waiting for +him. + +"This is good," said the nobleman. "I am very sorry I could not come +to town. Yes, my ankle is better, but I dare not use it. I am limping, +as you see." + +"Shall we go into the house?" said Ogilvie; "I want to get this thing +over. I have not a moment if I am to start on Saturday." + +"You must do what we want. The public are impatient. We must get your +report as soon as possible. You will wire it to us, of course." + +"That depends." + +"Now listen, Ogilvie," said Lord Grayleigh, as they both entered the +study of the latter and Ogilvie sank into a chair, "you either do this +thing properly or you decline it, you give it up." + +"Can I? I thought the die was cast." + +"The worldly man in me echoes that hope, but I _could_ get Atherton to +take your place even now." + +"Even now?" echoed Philip Ogilvie. + +"Even now it may be possible to manage it, although I"--Lord Grayleigh +had a flashing memory of Sibyl's face and the look in her eyes, when +she spoke of her perfect father. Then he glanced at the man who, +silent and with suppressed suffering in his face, stood before him. +The irresolution in Ogilvie's face took something from its character, +and seemed to lower the man's whole nature. Lord Grayleigh shivered; +then the uncomfortable sensation which the memory of Sibyl gave him +passed away. + +"I shall regret it extremely if you cannot do what I want," he said, +with emphasis. + +Ogilvie had a quick sensation of momentary relief. His wife owed +another two thousand pounds. It would be bankruptcy, ruin if he did +not go. He stood up. + +"The time for discussing the thing is over," he said. "I will +go--and--do _as you wish_. The only thing to put straight is the price +down." + +"What do you mean by the price down?" + +"I want money." + +"Of course, you shall have it." + +"I want more than my expenses, and something to cover the loss to my +business which my absence may create." + +"How much more?" Lord Grayleigh looked at him anxiously. + +"Ten thousand pounds in cash now, to be placed to my credit in my +bank." + +"Ten thousand pounds in cash! That is a big order." + +"Not too big for what you require me to do. You make hundreds of +thousands by me eventually; what is one ten thousand? It will relieve +my mind and set a certain matter straight. The fact is--I will confide +in you so far--my own pecuniary affairs are anything but flourishing. +I have had some calls to meet. What little property I own is settled +on my wife. You know that a man cannot interfere with his marriage +settlements. I have one child. I want to make a special provision for +her." + +"I know your child," said Lord Grayleigh, in a very grave tone; "she +is out of the common." + +A spasm of pain crossed the father's face. + +"She is," he answered slowly. "I wish to make a provision for her. If +I die (I may die, we are all mortal; I am going to a distant place; +possibilities in favor of death are ten per cent. greater than if I +remain at home)--if I die, this will be hers. It will comfort me, and +make it absolutely impossible for me to go back. You understand that +sometimes a miserable starved voice within me speaks. I allude to the +voice of conscience. However much it clamors, I cannot listen to it +when that sum of money lies in the bank to my credit, with my last +will and testament leaving it eventually to my daughter." + +"I would not give your daughter such a portion, if I were you," +thought Lord Grayleigh, but he did not say the words aloud. He said +instead, "What you wish shall be done." + +The two men talked a little longer together. Certain necessary +arrangements were concluded, and Ogilvie bore in his pocket before he +left a check for ten thousand pounds on Lord Grayleigh's private +account. + +"This clinches matters," he said, and he gave a significant glance at +Grayleigh. + +"You will see Spielmann for all the rest," was Grayleigh's answer; +"and now, if you must catch the train----" + +"Yes, I must; good-by." + +Lord Grayleigh walked with him as far as the porch. + +"Have you seen your wife?" he asked. "Can we not induce you to wait +for the next train and stay to lunch?" + +"No, thanks; it is impossible. Oh, I see you have sent for the +dog-cart; I will drive to the station." + +Just then Sibyl, Gus and Freda appeared in view. Sibyl was extremely +dirty. She had been climbing trees to good effect that morning, and +there was a rent in front of her dress and even a very apparent hole +in one of her stockings. She and Gus were arguing somewhat fiercely, +and the cap she wore was pushed back, and her golden hair was all in a +tangle. Suddenly she raised her eyes, caught sight of her father, and, +with a shout something between a whoop and a cry, flung herself into +his arms. + +"Daddy, daddy!" she cried. + +He clasped her tightly to his breast. He did not notice the shabby +dress nor the torn stocking; he only saw the eager little face, the +eyes brimful with love; he only felt the beating of the warm, warm +heart. + +"Why, dad, now I shall be happy. Where are you, Gus? Gus, this is +father; Gus, come here!" + +But at a nod from Lord Grayleigh both Gus and Freda had vanished round +the corner. + +"I will say good-by, if you must go, Ogilvie," said Grayleigh. He +took his hand, gave it a sympathetic squeeze, and went into the house. + +"But must you go, father? Why, you have only just come," said Sibyl. + +"I must, my darling, I must catch the next train; there is not ten +minutes. Jump on the dog-cart, and we will drive to the station +together." + +"Oh, 'licious!" cried Sibyl, "more than 'licious; but what will mother +say?" + +"Never mind, the coachman will bring you back. Jump up, quick." + +In another instant Sibyl was seated between her father and the +coachman. The spirited mare dashed forward, and they bowled down the +avenue. Ogilvie's arm was tight round Sibyl's waist, he was hugging +her to him, squeezing her almost painfully tight. She gasped a little, +drew in her breath, and then resolved to bear it. + +"There's something troubling him, he likes having me near him," +thought the child. "I wouldn't let him see that he's squeezing me up a +bit too tight for all the world." + +The mare seemed to fly over the ground. Ogilvie was glad. + +"We shall have a minute or two at the station. I can speak to her +then," he thought. "I won't tell her that I am going, but I can say +something." Then the station appeared in view, and the mare was +pulled up with a jerk; Ogilvie jumped to his feet, and lifted Sibyl to +the ground. + +"Wait for the child," he said to the servant, "and take her back +carefully to the house." + +"Yes, sir," answered the man, touching his hat. + +Ogilvie went into the little station, and Sibyl accompanied him. + +"I have my ticket," he said, "we have three minutes to spare, three +whole precious minutes." + +"Three whole precious minutes," repeated Sibyl. "What is it, father?" + +"I am thinking of something," he said. + +"What?" asked the girl. + +"For these three minutes, one hundred and eighty seconds, you and I +are to all intents and purposes alone in the world." + +"Father! why, so we are," she cried. "Mother's not here, we are all +alone. Nothing matters, does it, when we are alone together?" + +"Nothing." + +"You don't look quite well, dear father." + +"I have been having some suffering lately, and am worried about +things, those sort of things that don't come to little girls." + +"Of course they don't, father, but when I'm a woman I'll have them. +I'll take them instead of you." + +"Now listen, my darling." + +"Father, before you speak ... I know you are going to say something +very, _very_ solemn; I know you when you're in your solemn moments; I +like you best of all then. You seem like Jesus Christ then. Don't you +feel like Jesus Christ, father?" + +"Never, Sib, never; but the time is going by, the train is signalled. +My dearest, what is it?" + +"Mayn't I go back to town with you? I like the country, I like Gus and +Freda and Mabel, but there is no place like your study in the evening, +and there's no place like my bedroom at night when you come into it. +I'd like to go back with you, wouldn't it be fun! Couldn't you take +me?" + +"I could, of course," said the man, and just for a moment he wavered. +It would be nice to have her in the house, all by herself, for the +next two or three days, but he put the thought from him as if it were +a temptation. + +"No, Sib," he said, "you must go back to your mother; it would not be +at all right to leave your mother alone." + +"Of course not," she answered promptly, and she gave a sigh which was +scarcely a sigh. + +"It would have been nice all the same," said Ogilvie. "Ah! there is +my train; kiss me, darling." + +She flung her arms tightly round his neck. + +"Sibyl, just promise before I leave you that you will be a good girl, +that you will make goodness the first thing in life. If, for instance, +we were never to meet again--of course we shall, thousands of times, +but just suppose, for the sake of saying it, that we did not, I should +like to know that my little girl put goodness first. There is nothing +else worth the while in life. Cling on to it, Sibyl, cling tight hold +to it. Never forget that I----" + +"Yes, father, I will cling to it. Yes, father!" + +"That I wish it. You would do a great deal for me?" + +"For you and Lord Jesus Christ," she answered softly. + +"Then I wish this, remember, and whatever happens, whatever you hear, +remember you promised. Now here's my train, stand back. Good-by, +little woman, good-by." + +"I'll see you again very, very soon, father?" + +"Very soon," answered the man. He jumped into the carriage, the train +puffed out of the station. A porter came up to Sibyl and spoke to her. + +"Anybody come to meet you, Miss?" + +"No, thank you," she answered with dignity; "I was seeing my father +off to town; there's my twap waiting outside." + +The man smiled, and the little girl went gravely out of the station. + +Sibyl went back to Lord Grayleigh's feeling perplexed. There was an +expression about her father's face which puzzled her. + +"He ought to have me at home with him," she thought. "I have seen him +like this now and then, and he's mostly not well. He's beautiful when +he talks as he did to-day, but he's mostly not well when he does it. I +'spect he's nearer Lord Jesus when he's not well, that must be it. My +most perfect father wants me to be good; I don't want to be good a +bit, but I must, to please him." + +Just then a somewhat shrill and petulant voice called the child. + +"My dear Sibyl, where _have_ you been? What are you doing on the +dog-cart? How unladylike. Jump down this minute." + +The man pulled up the mare, and Sibyl jumped to the ground. She met +her mother's angry face with a smile which she tried hard to make +sweet. + +"I didn't do anything naughty, really, Mummy," she said. "Father took +me to the station to say good-by. He's off back to town, and he took +me with him, and I came back on the twap." + +"Don't say twap, sound your 'r'--trap." + +"Tw-rap," struggled Sibyl over the difficult word. + +"And now you are to go into the house and ask Nurse to put on your +best dress. I am going to take you to a garden party, immediately +after lunch. Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen Douglas are coming with us. +Be quick." + +"Oh, 'licious," said Sibyl. She rushed into the house, and up to the +nursery. Nurse was there waiting to deck her in silk and lace and +feathers. The little girl submitted to her toilet, and now took a vast +interest in it. + +"You must make me quite my prettiest self," she said to the nurse; +"you must do your very best, 'cos mother----" + +"What about your mother now, missy?" + +"'Cos mother's just a little----Oh, nothing," said Sibyl, pulling +herself up short. + +"She likes me best when I'm pretty," continued the child; "but father +likes me always. Nursie, do you know that my ownest father came down +here to-day, and that I dwove to the station to see him off? Did you +know it?" + +"No, Miss Sibyl, I can't say I did." + +"He talked to me in a most pwivate way," continued Sibyl. "He told me +most 'portant things, and I promised him, Nursie--I promised him that +I'd----Oh, no! I won't tell you. Perhaps I won't be able to keep my +promise, and then you'd----Nothing, Nursie, nothing; don't be +'quisitive. I can see in your face that you are all bursting with +'quisitiveness; but you aren't to know. I am going to a party with my +own mother after lunch, and Lady Helen is coming, and Mr. Rochester. I +like them both very much indeed. Lady Helen told me stories last +night. She put her arm round my waist, and she talked to me; and I +told her some things, too, and she laughed." + +"What did you tell her, Miss Sibyl?" + +"About my father and mother. She laughed quite funnily. I wish people +wouldn't; it shows how little they know. It's 'cos they are so far +from being perfect that they don't understand perfect people. But +there's the lunch gong. Yes, I do look very nice. Good-by, Nursie." + +Sibyl ran downstairs. The children always appeared at this meal, and +she took her accustomed place at the table. Very soon afterwards, she, +her mother, Lady Helen, and Mr. Rochester, started for a place about +ten miles off, where an afternoon reception was being given. + +Sibyl felt inclined to be talkative, and Mrs. Ogilvie, partly because +she had a sore feeling in her heart with regard to her husband's +departure, although she would not acknowledge it, was inclined to be +snappish. She pulled the little girl up several times, and at last +Sibyl subsided in her seat, and looked out straight before her. It was +then that Lady Helen once more put her arm round her waist. + +"Presently," said Lady Helen, "when the guests are all engaged, you +and I will slip out by ourselves, and I will show you one of the most +beautiful views in all England. We climb a winding path, and we +suddenly come out quite above all the trees, and we look around us; +and when we get there, you'll be able to see the blue sea in the +distance, and the ships, one of which is going to take your----" + +But just then Mrs. Ogilvie gave Helen Douglas so severe a push with +her foot, that she stopped, and got very red. + +"What ship do you mean?" said Sibyl, surprised at the sudden break in +the conversation, and now intensely interested, "the ship that is +going to take my--my what?" + +"Did you never hear the old saying, that you must wait until your ship +comes home?" interrupted Mr. Rochester, smiling at the child, and +looking at Lady Helen, who had not got over her start and confusion. + +"But this ship was going out," said Sibyl. "Never mind, I 'spect it's +a secret; there's lots of 'em floating round to-day. I've got some +'portant ones of my own. Never mind, Lady Helen, don't blush no more." +She patted Lady Helen in a patronizing way on her hand, and the whole +party laughed; the tension was, for the time, removed. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Ogilvie made a will leaving the ten thousand pounds which Lord +Grayleigh had given him absolutely to Sibyl for her sole use and +benefit. He also made all other preparations for his absence from +home, and started for Queensland on Saturday. He wrote to his wife on +the night before he left England, repeating his injunction that on no +account was Sibyl to be yet told of his departure. + +"When she absolutely must learn it, break it to her in the tenderest +way possible," he said; "but as Grayleigh has kindly invited you both +to stay on at Grayleigh Manor for another week, you may as well do so, +and while there I want the child to be happy. The country air and the +companionship of other children are doing her a great deal of good. I +never saw her look better than I did the other day. I should also be +extremely glad, Mildred, if on your return to town you would arrange +to send Sibyl to a nice day-school, where she could have companions. I +have nothing to say against Miss Winstead, but I think the child would +be better, less old-fashioned, and might place us more on the pedestal +which we really ought to occupy, if she had other children to talk to +and exchange thoughts with. Try to act, my dear wife, as I would like +in this particular, I beg of you. Also when you have to let my darling +know that I am away, you will find a letter for her in my left-hand +top drawer in my study table. Give it to her, and do not ask to see +it. It is just a little private communication from her father, and for +her eyes alone. Be sure, also, you tell her that, all being well, I +hope to be back in England by the end of the summer." + +Ogilvie added some more words to his letter, and Mrs. Ogilvie received +it on Saturday morning. She read it over carelessly, and then turned +to Jim Rochester who stood near. During her visit to Grayleigh Manor +she had got to know this young man very well, and to like him +extremely. He was good-looking, pleasant to talk to, well informed, +and with genial, hearty views of life. He had been well brought up, +and his principles were firm and unshaken. His notion of living was to +do right on every possible occasion, to turn from the wrong with +horror, to have faith in God, to keep religion well in view, and as +far as in him lay to love his neighbor better than himself. + +Rochester, it may be frankly stated, had some time ago lost his heart +to Lady Helen Douglas, who, on her part, to all appearance returned +his affection. Nothing had yet, however, been said between the pair, +although Rochester's eyes proclaimed his secret whenever they rested +on Lady Helen's fair face. + +He watched Mrs. Ogilvie now with a sudden interest as she folded up +her husband's letter. + +"Well," she said, turning to him and uttering a quick sigh; "he is +off, it is a _fait accompli_. Do you know, I am relieved." + +"Are you?" he answered. He looked at her almost wistfully. He himself +was sorry for Ogilvie, he did not know why. He was, of course, aware +that he was going to Queensland to assay the Lombard Deeps, for the +talk of the great new gold mine had already reached his ears. He knew +that Ogilvie, moreover, looked pale, ill at ease, and worried. He +supposed that this uneasiness and want of alacrity in carrying a very +pleasurable business to a successful issue was caused by the man's +great attachment to his wife and child. Mrs. Ogilvie must also be +sorry when she remembered that it would be many months before she saw +him again. But there was no sorrow now in the soft eyes which met his, +nothing but a look of distinct annoyance. + +"Really," she said with an impatient movement, "I must confide in some +one, and why not in you, Mr. Rochester, as well as another? I have +already told you that my husband is absolutely silly about that +child. From her birth he has done all that man could do to spoil her." + +"But without succeeding," interrupted Jim Rochester. "I am quite +friendly with your little Sibyl now," he added, "and I never saw a +nicer little girl." + +"Oh, that is what strangers always say," replied Mrs. Ogilvie, +shrugging her shoulders, "and the child is nice, I am not denying it +for a moment, but she would be nicer if she were not simply ruined. He +wants her to live in an impossible world, without any contradictions +or even the smallest pain. You will scarcely believe it, but he would +not allow me, the other day, to tell her such a very simple, ordinary +thing as that he was going to Queensland on business, and now, in his +letter, he still begs of me to keep it a secret from her. She is not +to know anything about his absence until she returns to London, +because, forsooth, the extra week she is to spend in the country would +not do her so much good if she were fretting. Why should Sibyl fret? +Surely it is not worse for her than for me; not nearly as bad, for +that matter." + +"I am glad you feel it," said Rochester. + +"Feel it? What a strange remark! Did you think I was heartless? Of +course I feel it, but I am not going to be silly or sentimental over +the matter. Philip is a very lucky man to have this business to do. I +would not be so foolish as to keep him at home; but he is ruining that +child, ruining her. She gets more spoilt and intolerable every day." + +"Forgive me, Mrs. Ogilvie," said Lady Helen, who came upon the scene +at that moment, "I heard you talking of your little daughter. I don't +think I ever met a sweeter child." + +Mrs. Ogilvie threw up her hands in protest. + +"There you go," she said. "Mr. Rochester has been saying almost the +very same words, Lady Helen. Now let me tell you that Sibyl is not +your child; no one can be more charming to strangers." + +As Mrs. Ogilvie spoke she walked a few steps away; then she turned and +resumed her conversation. + +"The annoying part of this letter," she said, "is that Philip has +written a private communication to Sibyl, and when she hears of his +absence she is to be given this letter, and I am not even to see it. I +don't think I shall give it to her; I really must now take the +management of the child into my own hands. Her father will be +absent----Oh, there you are, Sibyl. What are you doing, loitering +about near windows? Why don't you play with your companions?" For +Sibyl had burst in by the open window, looking breathless. + +"I thought--I thought," she began; "I thought, mother, that I heard +you----" her face was strangely white, and her wide-open eyes looked +almost wild in expression. + +"It's not true, of course; but I thought I heard you say something +about father, and a--a letter I was to have in his absence. Did you +say it, mother?" + +"I said nothing of the sort," replied Mrs. Ogilvie, flushing red, and +almost pushing Sibyl from the room, "nothing of the sort; go and +play." + +Sibyl gave her an earnest and very penetrating look. She did not +glance either at Mr. Rochester or Lady Helen. + +"It's wicked for good people to tell lies, isn't it?" she said then, +slowly. + +"Wicked," cried her mother; "it's shamefully wicked." + +"And you are good, mother, you don't ever tell lies; I believe you, +mother, of course." She turned and went out of the room. As she went +slowly in the direction of the field where the other children were +taking turns to ride bareback one of the horses, her thoughts were +very puzzled. + +"I wish things would be 'splained to me," she said, half aloud, and +she pushed back her curls from her forehead. "There are more and more +things every day want 'splaining. I certainly did hear her say it. I +heard them all talking, and Lady Helen said something, and Mr. +Rochester said something, and mother said that father wished me not to +know, and I was to have a letter, and then mother said 'in his +absence.' Oh, what can it mean?" + +The other children shouted to her from the field, but she was in no +mood to join them, and just then Lord Grayleigh, who was pacing up and +down his favorite walk, called her to his side. + +"What a puzzled expression you are wearing, my little girl," he said. +"Is anything the matter?" + +Sibyl skipped up to him. Some of the cloud left her face. Perhaps he +could put things straight for her. + +"I want to ask you a question," she said. + +"You are always asking questions. Now ask me something really nice; +but first, I have something to say. I am in a very giving mood this +morning. Sometimes I am in a saving mood, and would not give so much +as a brass farthing to anybody, but I am in the other sort of mood +to-day. I am in the mood to give a little golden-haired girl +called----" + +"Sibyl," said the child, beginning to laugh; "if she is golden-haired +it must be me. What is it you want to give me?" + +Her attention was immediately arrested; her eyes shone and her lips +smiled. + +"What would you like best in the world?" + +"Oh, best in the whole world? But I cannot have that, not for a +week--we are going home this day week." + +"And what will you have when you go home?" + +"Father's kiss every night. He always comes up, Lord Grayleigh, and +tucks me in bed, and he kisses me, and we have a cozy talk. He never +misses, never, when he is at home. I am lonesome here, Lord Grayleigh, +because mother does not think it good for me that she should come; she +would if she thought it good for me." + +"Well," said Lord Grayleigh, who for some reason did not feel quite +comfortable as Sibyl talked of her father's kisses, "we must find +something for you, not quite the best thing of all. What would be the +next best?" + +"I know," said Sibyl, laughing, "a Shetland pony; oh, I do want one so +badly. Mother sometimes rides in the Park, and I do so long to go with +her, but she said we couldn't afford it. Oh, I do want a pony." + +"You shall have one," said Lord Grayleigh; "it shall be my present to +a very good, charming little girl." + +"Do you really think I am good?" + +"Good? Excellent; you are a pattern to us all." + +"Wouldn't father like to hear you. It's wonderful how he talked to me +about being good. I am not really good, you know; but I mean to try. +If you were to look into my heart, you would see--oh, but you shan't +look." She started back, clasped her hands, and laughed. "But when +father looks next, he shall see, oh, a white heart with all the +naughtiness gone." + +"Tell me exactly what sort of pony you would like," said Lord +Grayleigh, who thought it desirable to turn the conversation. + +"It must have a long mane, and not too short a tail," said Sibyl; "and +be sure you give me the very nicest, newest sort of side-saddle, same +as mother has herself, for mother's side-saddle is very comfy. Oh, and +I'd like a riding habit like mother's, too. Mother will be sure to say +she can't 'ford one for me, but you'll give me one if you give me the +pony and the side-saddle, won't you?" + +"I'll give you the pony and the side-saddle, and the habit," said Lord +Grayleigh. "I'll choose the pony to-morrow, and bring him back with +me. I am going to Lyndhurst, in the New Forest, where they are going +to have a big horse fair. You will not mind having a New Forest pony +instead of a Shetland?" + +[Illustration: "A perfect person could not tell a lie, could she?" +asked Sibyl.--Page 123. _Daddy's Girl._] + +"I don't mind what sort my darling pony is," answered the child. "I +only want to have it. Oh, you are nice. I began by not liking you, +but I like you awfully now. You are very nice, indeed." + +"And so are you. It seems to me we suit each other admirably." + +"There are lots of nice people in the world," said Sibyl. "It's a very +pleasant place. There are two quite perfect, and there are others very +nice; you and Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen. But, oh, Lord Grayleigh, I +know now what I wanted to say. A perfect person couldn't never tell a +lie, could she?" + +"Oh, it's the feminine gender," said Lord Grayleigh softly, under his +breath. + +"It's a she," said Sibyl; "could she; could she?" + +"A perfect person could not, little girl." + +"Now you have made me so happy that I am going to kiss you," said +Sibyl. She made a spring forward, flung her arms round his neck, and +kissed him twice on his rough cheek. The next instant she had vanished +out of sight and joined her companions. + +"It's all right," she said to Gus, who looked at her in some +amazement. "It's all right; I got a fright, but there wasn't a word of +it true. Come, let's play. Oh, do you know your father is going to +give me a pony? I am so happy." + +In a week's time Mrs. Ogilvie and Sibyl returned to town. Sibyl was +intensely joyful on this occasion, and confided in everyone what a +happy night she would have. + +"You don't know what father is," she said, looking full up into +Rochester's eyes. He was standing on the terrace, and the little girl +went and stood by his side. Sibyl was in her most confiding mood. She +considered Lord Grayleigh, Mr. Rochester, Lady Helen, and the children +were all her special friends. It was impossible to doubt their entire +sympathy and absolute ability to rejoice in her joy. + +"I have had a good time here," she said, "very good. Lord Grayleigh +has been nice; I began by not liking him, but I like him now, and I +like you awfully, but after all there's no place for me like my own, +own home. It's 'cos of father." + +"Yes," said Rochester. He looked anxiously, as Sibyl spoke, towards +the house. Everyone at Grayleigh Manor now knew that Sibyl was not to +be told of her father's absence during her visit. No one approved of +this course, although no one felt quite towards it with the same sense +of irritation that Mrs. Ogilvie herself did. Rochester wished at this +instant that Lord Grayleigh or someone else would appear. He wanted +anything to cause a diversion, but Sibyl, in happy ignorance of his +sentiments, talked on. + +"It is at night that my father is the most perfect of all," she said. +"I wish you could see him when he comes into my room. I am in bed, you +know, lying down flat on my back, and mostly thinking about the +angels. I do that a lot at night, I have no time in the day; I think +of the angels, and Lord Jesus Christ, and heaven, and then father +comes in. He opens the door soft, and he treads on tiptoe for fear I'm +asleep, as if I could be! And then he kisses me, and I think in the +whole of heaven there can never be an angel so good and beautiful as +he is, and he says something to me which keeps me strong until the +next night, when he says something else." + +"But your mother?" stammered Rochester. He was about to add, "She +would go to your room, would she not?" when he remembered that she +herself had told him that nothing would induce her to adopt so +pernicious a course. + +"Oh, you're thinking about my perfect mother, too," said Sibyl. "Yes, +she is perfect, but there are different sorts in the world. My own +mother thinks it is not good for me to lie awake at night and think of +the angels and wait for father. She thinks that I ought to bear the +yoke in my youth. Solomon, the wise King Solomon--you have heard of +him, haven't you?" + +Rochester nodded. + +"He wrote that verse about bearing the yoke when you are young. I +learnt it a week ago, and I felt it just 'splained about my mother. +It's really very brave of mother; but, you see, father thinks +different, and, of course, I nat'rally like father's way best. +Mother's way is the goodest for me, p'waps. Don't you think mother's +way is the goodest for me, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I dare say it is good for you, Sibyl. Now, shall we go and find Lady +Helen?" + +"Seems to me," said Sibyl, "I'm always looking for Lady Helen when I'm +with you. Is it 'cos you're so desperate fond of her?" + +"Don't you like her yourself?" said the young man, reddening visibly. + +"Like her? I like her just awfully. She's the most 'licious person to +tell stories I ever comed across in all my borned days. She tells +every sort of story about giants and fairies and adventures, and +stories of little girls just like me. Does she tell you stories about +men just like you, and is that why you like to be with her?" + +"Well, I can't honestly say that she has ever yet told me a story, but +I will ask her to do so." + +"Do," said Sibyl; "ask her to tell you a story about a man like +yourself. Make him rather pwoper and stiff and shy, and let him blush +sometimes. You do, you know you do. Maybe it will do you good to hear +about him. Now come along and let's find her." + +So Sibyl and Rochester hunted all over the place for Lady Helen, and +when they found her not, for she had gone to the nearest village on a +commission with one of the children, Rochester's face looked somewhat +grave, and his answers to the child were a little _distrait_. Sibyl +said to him in a tone of absolute sympathy and good faith-- + +"Cheer up, won't you? She is quite certain to marry you in the long +run." + +"Don't talk like that," said Rochester in a voice of pain. + +"Don't what? You do want to marry Lady Helen. I heard mother say so +yesterday. I heard her say so to Hortense. Hortense was brushing her +hair, and mother said, 'It would be a good match on the whole for Lady +Helen, 'cos she is as poor as a church mouse, and Jim Rochester has +money.' Is my darling Lady Helen as poor as a church mouse, and have +you lots of money, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I have money, but not lots. You ought not to repeat what you hear," +said the young man. + +"But why? I thought everybody knew. You are always trying to make her +marry you, I see it in your eyes; you don't know how you look when you +look at her, oh--ever so eager, same as I look when father's in the +room and he is not talking to me. I hope you will marry her, more +especial if she's as poor as a church mouse. I never knew why mice +were poor, nor why mother said it, but she did. Oh, and there is +mother, I must fly to her; good-by--good-by." + +Rochester concealed his feelings as best he could, and hurried +immediately into a distant part of the grounds, where he cogitated +over what Sibyl, in her childish, way, had revealed. + +The pony had been purchased, and Sibyl had ridden it once. It was a +bright bay with a white star on its forehead. It was a well-groomed, +well-trained little animal, and Lord Grayleigh had given Sibyl her +first riding lesson, and had shown her how to hold the reins, and how +to sit on her saddle, and the riding habit had come from town, and the +saddle was the newest and most comfortable that money could buy. + +"It is my present to you," said Lord Grayleigh, "and remember when you +ride it that you are going to be a good girl." + +"Oh dear, oh dear," said Sibyl, "I don't want _everyone_ to tell me +that I am to be a good girl. If it was father; but--don't please, Lord +Grayleigh; I'll do a badness if you talk to me any more about being so +good." + +"Well, I won't," said Lord Grayleigh, laughing. + +"I 'spect father will write you a most loving letter about this," said +Sibyl. "Won't he be 'sprised? And did you tell mother about me having +a ride every morning?" + +"I did." + +"And did you speak to her about the food for my pony all being paid +for?" + +"Yes, everything is arranged. Your pony shall be the best cared for in +all London, and you shall ride him every day for half-an-hour before +you go to school." + +"Oh, I never go to school," said Sibyl in a sorrowful voice. "I have a +Miss Winstead to teach me. She is the sort that--oh, well, no matter; +she means all right, poor thing. She wants the money, so of course she +has to stay. She doesn't suit me a bit, but she wants the money. It's +all right, isn't it?" + +"So it seems, little girl; and now here is the carriage, and the pony +has gone off to London already, and will be ready to take you on his +back to-morrow morning. Be sure you think of a nice name for him." + +"Father will tell me a name. I won't let anybody else christen my +ownest pony. Good-by, Lord Grayleigh. I like you very much. Say +good-by to Mr. Rochester for me--oh, and there is Lady Helen; +good-by, Lady Helen--good-by." + +They all kissed Sibyl when they parted from her, and everyone was +sorry at seeing the last of her bright little face, and many +conjectures went forth with regard to the trouble that was before the +child when she got to London. One and all thought that Ogilvie had +behaved cruelly, and that his wife was somewhat silly to have yielded +to him. + +Sibyl went up to town in the highest spirits. She chatted so much on +the road that her mother at last told her to hold her tongue. + +"Sit back in your seat and don't chatter," she said, "you disturb +other people." + +The other people in the carriage consisted of a very old gentleman and +a small boy of Sibyl's own age. The small boy smiled at Sibyl and she +smiled back, and if her mother had permitted it would have chatted to +him in a moment of her hopes and longings; but, when mother put on +that look, Sibyl knew that she must restrain her emotions, and she sat +back in her seat, and thought about the children who bore the yoke in +their youth, and how good it was for them, and how rapidly she was +growing into the sort of little girl her father most liked. + +"Mother," she said, as they got towards the end of the journey, "I'm +'proving, aren't I?" + +"Proving, what do you mean?" + +"_Im_proving, mother." + +"I can't say that I see it, Sibyl; you have been very troublesome for +the last few days." + +"Oh!" said the child, "oh!" + +Sibyl changed seats from the one opposite, and nestled up close to her +mother, she tucked her hand inside her arm, and then began to talk in +a loud, buzzing whisper. + +"It's 'cos of father," she said; "he begged me so earnest to be a good +girl, and I _have_ tried, _haven't_ you noticed it, mother? Won't you +tell him when we get home that I have tried?" + +"Don't worry me, Sibyl, you know my views. I want you to be just a +sensible, good child, without any of those high-flown notions. When we +return to town you must make up for your long holiday. You must do +your lessons with extreme care, and try to please Miss Winstead." + +"And to please father and Lord Jesus." + +"Yes, yes, child." + +"And to have a ride every morning on my darling pony?" + +"We will try and manage that. Lord Grayleigh has been almost silly +over that pony; I doubt whether it is wise for you to have it." + +"Oh, mother, he did say he would buy everything--the pony, the +saddle, the habit, and he would 'ford the food, too. You have not got +to pay out any money, mother, have you?" + +"Hush, don't talk so loud." + +The old gentleman buried himself in _The Times_ in order not to hear +Sibyl's distressed voice, and the little boy stared out of the window +and got very red. + +"Take up your book and stop talking," said Mrs. Ogilvie. + +Sibyl took up a book which she already knew by heart, and kept back a +sorrowful sigh. + +"But it don't matter," she said to herself; "when I see father, he'll +understand." + +They got to town, where a carriage was waiting for them. Sibyl could +scarcely restrain her eagerness. + +"Mother, may I ask John if father's likely to be at home? Sometimes he +comes home earlier than usual. P'waps he came home to lunch and is +waiting for us. Can I call out to John through the window, mother?" + +"No, sit still, you do fidget so." + +"I'll try to be quiet, mother; it's only 'cos I'm so incited." + +"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Ogilvie to herself, "what an awful evening I am +likely to have! When the silly child really finds out that her father +has gone, she will burst into hysterics, or do something else absurd. +I really wish it had been my luck to marry a husband with a grain of +sense. I wonder if I had better tell her now. No, I really cannot. +Miss Winstead must do it. Miss Winstead has been having a nice +holiday, with no fuss or worry of any sort, and it is quite fair that +she should bear the burden of this. But why it should be regarded as a +burden or a trial is a puzzle. Philip goes on a sort of pleasure +expedition to Queensland, and the affair is treated almost as if--as +if it were a death. It is positively uncanny." + +Sibyl noticed that her mother was silent, and that she looked worried. +Presently she stretched out her hand and stroked her mother's. + +"What are you doing that for?" + +"'Cos I thought I'd rub you the right way," said Sibyl. "You are like +a poor cat when it is rubbed the wrong way, aren't you, just now, +mother?" + +"Don't be so ridiculous." Mrs. Ogilvie snatched her hand away. + +They soon reached the house. The footman, Watson, sprang down and +lowered the steps. Sibyl bounded out and flew into the hall. + +"Father, father!" she called. "I'm back. Are you in, father? Here I +are--Sibyl. I'm home again, father. The Angel is home again, father." + +She did not often call herself the Angel, the name seemed to have more +or less slipped out of sight, but she did on this occasion, and she +threw back her pretty head and looked up the wide staircase, as if any +moment she might see her father hurrying down to meet her. + +Mrs. Ogilvie turned to one of the servants, who was watching the child +in astonishment. + +"She does not know yet," whispered Mrs. Ogilvie. "I am going into the +library; don't tell her anything, pray, but send Miss Winstead to me +immediately." + +Mrs. Ogilvie entered the library. Sibyl danced in after her. + +"I can't see father anywhere," she said: "I 'spect he's not back yet." + +"Of course he is not back so early. Now run upstairs and ask Nurse to +make you ready for tea. Leave me, I have something to say to Miss +Winstead." + +Miss Winstead appeared at that moment. She had enjoyed her holiday, +and looked the better for it. Though she understood Sibyl very little, +yet at this moment she gazed at the child almost with alarm, for Mrs. +Ogilvie had written to her telling her that Mr. Ogilvie's absence had +not been alluded to in the child's presence. + +Sibyl rushed to her and kissed her. + +"I am back, and I am going to be good," she said. "I really, truly am; +aren't you glad to see me?" + +"Yes, Sibyl." + +"Go upstairs now, Sibyl," said her mother. Sibyl obeyed somewhat +unwillingly, some of the laughter went out of her eyes, and a little +of the excitement faded from her heart. She went up the wide stairs +slowly, very slowly. Even now she hoped that it might be possible for +her father to appear, turning the angle of the winding stairs, coming +out of one of the rooms. He always had such a bright face, there was +an eagerness about it. He was tall and rather slender, and that bright +look in his eyes always caused the child's heart to leap; then his +mouth could wear such a beautiful smile. It did not smile for many +people, but it always did for Sibyl. She wanted to see him, oh, so +badly, so badly. + +"Well, never mind," she said to herself, "he can't help it, the +darling; but he'll be back soon," and she tripped into her nursery and +sat down; but she did not ask Nurse any questions, she was too busy +with her own thoughts. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +"Miss Winstead," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "this is all most unpleasant." + +"What do you mean?" asked the governess. + +"Why, this whim of my husband's. He has been away for over a week, and +the child imagines that he is still in London, that he will return at +any instant and spoil her, after his usual injudicious fashion." + +"Oh, I don't quite think that Mr. Ogilvie spoils your little Sibyl," +said Miss Winstead; "he has peculiar ideas, that's all." + +"We need not discuss that point," said Mrs. Ogilvie in an irritated +tone. "We are back later than I thought, and I have to dine out +to-night. I want you, Miss Winstead, to break the tidings to the child +that her father has gone to Queensland." + +"I?" said Miss Winstead; "I would really rather----" + +"I fear your likes or dislikes with regard to the matter cannot be +considered. I cannot tell her, because I should not do it properly; +and also, a more serious reason, I really have not the time. You can +give Sibyl a treat, if you like, afterwards. Take her out for a walk +in the Park after tea, she always likes that; and you can take her to +a shop and buy her a new toy--any toy she fancies. Here's a sovereign; +you can go as far as that, you ought to get her something quite +handsome for that; and you might ask the little Leicesters next door +to come to tea to-morrow. There are a hundred ways in which the mind +of a child can be diverted." + +"Not the mind of Sibyl with regard to her father," interrupted Miss +Winstead. + +"Well, for goodness' sake, don't make too much of it. You know how +peculiar he is, and how peculiar she is. Just tell her that he has +gone away for a couple of months--that he has gone on an expedition +which means money, and that _I_ am pleased about it, that he has done +it for my sake and for her sake. Tell her he'll be back before the +summer is over. You can put it any way you like, only do it, Miss +Winstead--do it!" + +"When?" asked Miss Winstead. She turned very pale, and leant one hand +on the table. + +"Oh, when you please, only don't worry me. You had better take her off +my hands at once. Just tell her that I am tired and have a headache, +and won't see her until the morning; I really must lie down, and +Hortense must bathe my forehead. If I don't I shall look a perfect +wreck to-night, and it is going to be a big dinner; I have been +anxious for some time to go. And afterwards there is a reception at +the Chinese Embassy; I am going there also. Please ask Watson, on your +way through the hall, to have tea sent to my boudoir. And now you +quite understand?" + +"But, please, say exactly what I am to tell your little girl." + +"Don't you know? Say that her father has gone--oh, by the way, there's +a letter for her. I really don't know that she ought to have it. Her +father is sure to have said something terribly injudicious, but +perhaps you had better give it to her. You might give it to her when +you are telling her, and tell her to read it by-and-by, and not to be +silly, but to be sensible. That is my message to her. Now pray go, +Miss Winstead. Are you better? Have you had a nice time while we were +away?" + +"I still suffer very badly with my head," said Miss Winstead, "but the +quiet has done me good. Yes, I will try and do my best. I saw Mr. +Ogilvie the day he left; he did not look well, and seemed sorrowful. +He asked me to be kind to Sibyl." + +"I sincerely trust you are kind to the child; if I thought you did not +treat her with sympathy and understanding I should be obliged----" + +"Oh, you need not go on," said Miss Winstead, coloring, and looking +annoyed. "I know my duty. I am not a woman with very large +sympathies, or perhaps very wide views, but I try to do my duty; I +shall certainly do my utmost for your dear little daughter. There is +something very lovable about her, although sometimes I fear I do not +quite understand her." + +"No one seems to understand Sibyl, and yet everyone thinks her +lovable," said the mother. "Well, give her my love; tell her I will +ride with her in the morning. She has had a present of a pony, quite a +ridiculous present; Lord Grayleigh was determined to give it to her. +He took an immense fancy to the child, and put the gift in such a way +that it would not have been wise to refuse. Don't forget, when you see +Watson, to tell him to bring tea to my boudoir." + +Miss Winstead slowly left the room. She was a very quiet woman, about +thirty-five years of age. She had a stolid manner, and, as she said +herself, was a little narrow and a little old-fashioned, but she was +troubled now. She did not like the task set her. As she went upstairs +she muttered a solitary word. + +"Coward!" she said, under her breath. + +"I wish I was well out of this," thought the governess. "The child is +not an ordinary one, and the love she bears her father is not an +ordinary love." + +Miss Winstead's schoolroom looked its brightest and best. The days +were growing quite long now, and flowers were plentiful. A large +basket of flowers had been sent from Grayleigh Manor that morning, and +Miss Winstead had secured some of the prettiest for her schoolroom. +She had decorated the tea-table and the mantelpiece, but with a pain +at her heart, for she was all the time wondering if Sibyl knew or did +not know. She could not quite understand from Ogilvie's manner whether +she knew or not. He was very reserved about her just at the last, he +evidently did not like to talk of her. + +Miss Winstead entered the schoolroom. She sat down for a moment near +the open window. The day was still in its prime. She looked at the +clock. The under-housemaid, who had the charge of the schoolroom tea, +now came in with the tray. She laid the cloth and spread the +tea-things. There was a plate of little queen-cakes for Sibyl. + +"Cook made these for Miss Sibyl," she said. "Does she know yet, Miss +Winstead, that the master has gone?" + +"No," said Miss Winstead; "and I have got to tell her, Anne, and it is +a task I anything but like." + +"I wouldn't be in your shoes for a deal, Miss," replied Anne, in a +sympathetic voice. + +Just then a light, childish step was heard in the passage, and Sibyl +burst into the room. + +"Here I am. Oh, I am so glad tea is ready. What's the hour, please, +Miss Winstead? How are you, Anne; is your toothache better?" + +"I have not had any toothache to mention since you left, Miss Sibyl." + +"I am glad to hear that. You used to suffer awful pain, didn't you? +Did you go to Mr. Robbs, the dentist, and did he put your head between +his knees and tug and tug to get the tooth out? That's the way Nurse's +teeth were taken out when she was a little girl. She told me all about +it. Did Mr. Robbs pull your tooth out that way, Anne?" + +"No, Miss, the tooth is better and in my head, I'm thankful to say." + +"And how is cook? How are her sneezing fits?" + +"All the servants are very well, I thank you, Miss." + +"Don't make any more enquiries now, Sibyl, sit down and begin your +tea," said her governess. + +Sibyl made an effort to suppress the words which were bubbling to her +lips. Anne had reached the door, when she burst out with-- + +"I do just want to ask one more question. How is Watson, Anne, and how +is his sweetheart? Has she been kinder to him lately?" + +"Sibyl, I refuse to allow you to ask any further questions," +interrupted Miss Winstead. She was so nervous and perplexed at the +task before her that she was glad even to be able to find fault with +the child. It was really reprehensible of any child to take an +interest in Watson's sweetheart. + +Anne, smiling however, and feeling also inclined to cry, left the +room. She ran down to the servants' hall. + +"Of all the blessed angel children, Miss Sibyl beats 'em," she cried. +"Not one of us has she forgot; dear lamb, even to my tooth and your +sneezing fits, cook; and Watson, most special did she inquire for Mary +Porter, the girl you're a-keeping company with. It's wonderful what a +tender heart she do have." + +"That she have truly," said the cook, "and I'll make her some more +queen-cakes to-morrow, and ice them for her, that I will. It's but to +look at her to see how loving she is," continued the good woman. "How +she'll live without the master beats me. The missus ain't worthy of +her." + +This remark was followed by a sort of groan which proceeded from each +servant's mouth. It was evident that Mrs. Ogilvie was not popular in +the servants' hall. + +Sibyl meanwhile was enjoying her tea. + +"It's nearly five o'clock," she said, "father is sure to be in at six, +don't you think so, Miss Winstead?" + +"He often doesn't come home till seven," answered Miss Winstead in a +guilty voice, her hand shaking as she raised the teapot. + +"Why, what's the matter with you, Winnie dear," said Sibyl--this was +her pet name for the governess; "you have got a sort of palsy, you +ought to see a doctor. I asked Nurse what palsy was, and she said 'a +shaking,' and you are all shaking. How funny the teapot looks when +your hand is bobbing so. Do, Winnie, let me pour out tea." + +"Not to-night. I was thinking that after tea you and I might go for a +little walk." + +"Oh, I couldn't, really, truly; I must wait in till father comes." + +"It is such a fine evening, that perhaps----" + +"No, no, I don't want to go." + +"But your mother has given me money; you are to buy anything you +please at the toy-shop." + +This was a very great temptation, for Sibyl adored toys. + +"How much money?" she asked in a tentative voice. + +"Well, a good deal, a whole sovereign." + +"Twenty shillings," said Sibyl, "I could get a lovely doll's house for +that. But I think sometimes I am getting tired of my dolls. It's so +stupid of 'em not to talk, and never to cry, and not to feel pain or +love. But, on the whole, I suppose I should like a new doll's house, +and there was a beauty at the toy-shop for twenty shillings. It was +there at Christmas-time. I expect it's a little dusty now, but I dare +say Mr. Holman would let me have it cheap. I am _very_ fond of Mr. +Holman, aren't you, Winnie? Don't you love him very, very much? He has +such kind, sorrowful eyes. Don't you like him?" + +"I don't know that I do, Sibyl. Come, finish your tea, my dear." + +"Have you been trying to 'prove yourself very much while I was away?" +said Sibyl, looking at her now in a puzzled way. + +"Prove myself?" + +"I can never say that whole word. _Im_prove is what I mean. Have you +been trying?" + +"I always try, Sibyl." + +"Then I think Lord Jesus is helping you, for you _are_ 'proved, you're +quite sympathisy. I like you when you're sympathisy. Yes, I have +finished my tea, and, if you wish it, I'll go out just as far as Mr. +Holman's to buy the doll's house. He is poor, and he'll be real glad +to sell it. He has often told me how little money he makes by the +toys, and how they lose their freshness and get dusty, and children +toss 'em. Some children are _so_ careless. Yes, I'll go with you, +and then we'll come straight home. Father will be back certain +to-night at six. He'll know that I'll be wanting him." + +"Sibyl, I have something to tell you." + +"What?" + +There was a tremulous note in Miss Winstead's voice which arrested the +gay, careless chatter. The child looked at her governess. That deep, +comprehensive, strange look visited her eyes. Miss Winstead got up +hastily and walked to the window, then she returned to her seat. + +"What is it?" said Sibyl, still seated at the tea-table, but turning +round and watching her governess. + +"It is something that will pain you, dear." + +"Oh!" said Sibyl, "go on, please. Out with it! plump it out! as Gus +would say. Be quick. I don't like to be kept in 'spense." + +"I am afraid, Sibyl, that you will not see your father to-night." + +Sibyl jumped up just as if someone had shot her. She stood quite still +for a moment, and a shiver went through her little frame; then she +went up to Miss Winstead. + +"I can bear it," she said; "go on. Shall I see father to-morrow?" + +"Not to-morrow, nor the next day, nor the next." + +"Go on; I am bearing it," said Sibyl. + +She stood absolutely upright, white as a sheet, her eyes queerly +dilated, but her lips firm. + +"It's a great shock, but I am bearing it," she said again. "_When_ +will I see him?" + +Miss Winstead turned now and looked at her. + +"Child," she said, "don't look like that." + +"I'm looking no special way; I'm only bearing up. Is father dead?" + +"No; no, my dear. No, my poor little darling. Oh, you ought to have +been told; but he did not wish it. It was his wish that you should +have a happy time in the country. He has gone to Queensland; he will +be back in a few months." + +"A few months," said Sibyl. "He's not dead?" She sat down listlessly +on the window seat. She heaved a great sigh. + +"It's the little shots that hurt most," she said after a pause. "I +wouldn't have felt it, if you had said he was dead." + +"Come out, Sibyl, you know now he won't be back by six." + +"Yes, I'll go out with you." + +She turned and walked very gravely out of the room. + +"I'd rather she cried and screamed; I'd rather she rushed at me and +tried to hurt me; I'd rather she did anything than take it like that," +thought the governess. + +Sibyl went straight into the nursery. + +"Nursie," she said, "my father has gone. He is in Queensland; he did +not wish me to be told, but I have been told now. He is coming back in +a few months. A few months is like for ever, isn't it, nursie? I am +going out with Miss Winstead for a walk." + +"Oh, my darling," said nursie, "this has hurt you horribly." + +"Don't," said Sibyl, "don't be sympathisy." She pushed nurse's +detaining hand away. + +"It's the little shots that tell," she repeated. "I wouldn't have felt +anything if it had been a big, big bang; if he had been dead, I mean, +but I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to let anybody think that I +care anything at all. Give me my hat and gloves and jacket, please, +nurse." + +She went to Miss Winstead, put her hand in hers, and the two went +downstairs. When they got into the street Sibyl looked full at her, +and asked her one question. + +"Was it mother said you was to tell me?" + +"Yes." + +"Then mother did tell me a----" Sibyl left off abruptly, her poor +little face quivered. The suffering in her eyes was so keen that Miss +Winstead did not dare to meet them. They went for a walk in the park, +and Sibyl talked in her most proper style, but she did not say any of +the nice, queer, interesting things she was, as a rule, noted for. +Instead, she told Miss Winstead dry, uninteresting little facts, with +regard to her visit to the country. + +"I hear you have got a pony," said Miss Winstead. + +"I don't want to talk about my pony, please," interrupted Sibyl. "Let +me tell you just what were the most perfect views near the place we +were in." + +"But why may we not talk about your pony?" + +"I don't want to ride my pony now." + +Miss Winstead was alarmed about the child. + +"You have walked quite far enough to-night," she said, "you look very +white." + +"I'm not a scrap tired, I never felt better in my life. Do let us go +to the toy-shop." + +"A good idea," said the governess, much cheered to find Sibyl, in her +opinion, human after all. "We will certainly go there and will choose +a beautiful toy." + +"Well, this is the turning, come along," said Sibyl. + +"But why should we go to Holman's, there is a splendid toy-shop in +this street." + +"I'd much rather go to Mr. Holman's." + +Miss Winstead did not expostulate any further. Presently they reached +the shabby little shop. Mr. Holman, the owner of the shop, was a +special friend of the child's. He had once or twice, charmed by her +sympathetic way, confided some of his griefs to her. He found it, he +told her, extremely difficult to make the toy-shop pay; and Sibyl, in +consequence, considered it her bounden duty to spend every half-penny +she could spare at this special shop. She entered now, went straight +up to the counter and held out her hand. + +"How do you do, Mr. Holman," she said; "I hope I find you quite well." + +"Thank you, Missy; I am in the enjoyment of good health," replied the +shopman, flushing with pleasure and grasping the little hand. + +"I am glad of that," answered Sibyl. "I have come, Mr. Holman, to buy +a big thing, it will do your shop a lot of good. I am going to spend +twenty shillings in your shop. What would you like me to buy?" + +"You thought a doll's house," interrupted Miss Winstead, who stood +behind the child. + +"Oh, it don't matter about that," said Sibyl, looking gravely back at +her; "I mean it don't matter now. Mr. Holman, what's the most dusty of +your toys, what's the most scratched, what's the toy that none of the +other children would like?" + +"I have a whole heap of 'em," said Holman, shaking his head sadly. + +"That he have, poor dear," here interrupted Mrs. Holman. "How do you +do, Missy, we are both glad to see you back again; we have had a dull +season, very dull, and the children, they didn't buy half the toys +they ought to at Christmas time. It's because our shop is in a back +street." + +"Oh, but it's a very nice street," said Sibyl; "it's retired, isn't +it? Well, I'll buy twenty shillings' worth of the most dusty of the +toys, and please send them home to-morrow. Please, Miss Winstead, put +the money down." + +Miss Winstead laid a sovereign on the counter. + +"Good-by, Mr. Holman; good-by, Mrs. Holman," said Sibyl. She shook +hands solemnly with the old pair, and then went out of the shop. + +"What ails her?" said Holman. "She looks as if something had died +inside her. I don't like her looks a bit." + +Mrs. Ogilvie enjoyed herself very much that evening. Her friends were +glad to see her back. They were full of just the pleasant sympathy +which she liked best to receive. She must be lonely without her +husband. When would he return? When she said in a few months' time, +they congratulated her, and asked her how she had enjoyed herself at +Grayleigh Manor. In short, there was that sort of fuss made about her +which most appealed to her fancy. She forgot all about Sibyl. She +looked at other women of her acquaintance, and thought that when her +husband came home she would wear just as dazzling gems and just as +beautiful dresses, and she, too, might talk about her country place, +and invite her friends down to this rural retreat at Whitsuntide, and +make up a nice house-party in the autumn, and again in the winter. Oh, +yes, the world with its fascinations was stealing more and more into +her heart, and she had no room for the best of all. She forgot her +lonely child during these hours. + +Mrs. Ogilvie returned from a fashionable reception between twelve and +one in the morning. Hortense was up and tired. She could scarcely +conceal her yawns as she unstitched the diamonds which she had sewn on +her mistress's dress earlier in the evening, and put away the +different jewels. At last, however, her duties were over, and she went +away to her room. + +Mrs. Ogilvie got into bed, and closing her eyes, prepared to doze off +into delicious slumber. She was pleasantly tired, and no more. As she +sank into repose, the house in the country and the guests who would +fill it mingled with her dreams. Suddenly she heard a clear voice in +her ears. It awoke her with a sort of shock. She raised herself on her +elbow, and saw her little daughter standing in her white nightdress by +the bedside. + +"Mother," said Sibyl. + +"What are you doing there, Sibyl? Go back to bed directly." + +"Please, mother, I can't sleep. I have got a sort of up-and-down and +round-and-round feeling. I don't know what it is, but it's worse when +I put my head on my pillow. I 'spect I'm lonesome, mother. Mother, I +really, truly, am going to be sensible, and I know all about father; +but may I get into your bed just at the other side. I will lie as +still as a mouse; may I, mother?" + +"Oh dear, how you tremble," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "how more than annoying +this is! You certainly are not a sensible child at the present moment. +If you felt so strange and nervous, why didn't you ask Nurse or Miss +Winstead to sleep in the room with you?" + +"But, mother, that wouldn't have done me any good." + +"What do you mean?" + +"They wouldn't be you. I'll be quite happy if I can get into bed +alongside of you, mother." + +"Of course you may, child, but please don't disturb me. I am very +tired, and want to sleep." + +Sibyl ran round to the other side of the bed, slipped in, and lay as +quiet as a mouse. + +Mrs. Ogilvie curled up comfortably, arranged her pillows, and closed +her eyes. She was very sleepy, but what was the matter with her? She +could not lose herself in unconsciousness. Was the perfectly still +little figure by her side exercising some queer power over her, +drawing something not often stirred within her heart to the surface? +She turned at last and looked at the child. Sibyl was lying on her +back with her eyes wide open. + +"Why don't you shut your eyes and go to sleep?" asked her mother. + +"I can't, on account of the round-and-roundness feeling," replied +Sibyl. + +"What a funny little thing you are. Here, give me your hand." + +Mrs. Ogilvie stretched out her own warm hand and took one of Sibyl's. +Sibyl's little hand was cold. + +"May I come quite close to you, mother?" asked Sibyl. + +"Yes, darling." + +The next instant she was lying in her mother's arms. Her mother +clasped her close to her breast and kissed her many times. + +"Oh, now that's better," said the child with a sob. It was the first +attempt at a sob which had come from her lips. She nestled cosily +within her mother's clasp. + +"I am much better," she said; "I didn't understand, but I understand +now. I got his letter." + +"Must we talk about it to-night, Sibyl?" asked her mother. + +"Not much; there's not much to say, is there? He said I was to be good +and to obey you. I was to be good all the time. It's very hard, but I +'spect I'll do it; I 'spect Lord Jesus will help me. Mother, why has +father gone to Queensland? It's such a long, long way off." + +"For a most excellent reason," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "You really are +showing a great deal of sense, Sibyl. I never knew you more sensible +about anything. I was afraid you would cry and make scenes and be +naughty, and make yourself quite ill; that would have been a most +silly, affected sort of thing to do. Your father has gone away just on +a visit--we will call it that. He will be back before the summer is +over, and when he comes back he will bring us----" + +"What?" asked the child. "What has he gone for?" + +"My dear child, he has gone on most important business. He will bring +us back a great deal of _money_, Sibyl. You are too young yet to +understand about money." + +"No, I am not," said Sibyl. "I know that when people have not much +money they are sorrowful. Poor Mr. Holman is." + +"Who in the world is Mr. Holman?" + +"He sells the toys in the back street near our house. I am very much +obliged to you, mother, for that sovereign. Mr. Holman is going to +send me some dusty toys to-morrow." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I can't 'splain, Mr. Holman understands. But, mother, I thought we +had plenty of money." + +"Plenty of money," echoed Mrs. Ogilvie; "that shows what a very silly +little child you are. We have nothing like enough. When your father +comes back we'll be rich." + +"Rich?" said Sibyl, "rich?" She did not say another word for a long +time. Her mother really thought she had dropped asleep. In about half +an hour, however, Sibyl spoke. + +"Is it nice, being rich?" she asked. + +"Of course it is." + +"But what does it do?" + +"Do? It does everything. It gives you all your pretty frocks." + +"But I am more comfy in my common frocks." + +"Well, it gives you your nice food." + +"I don't care nothing about food." + +"It gives you your comfortable home, your pony, and----" + +"Lord Grayleigh gave me my pony." + +"Child, I cannot explain. It makes all the difference between comfort +and discomfort, between sorrow and happiness." + +"Do you think so?" said Sibyl. "And father has gone away to give me a +nice house, and pretty clothes, and all the other things between being +comfy and discomfy; and you want to be rich very much, do you, +mother?" + +"Very much indeed; I like the good things of life." + +"I'll try and understand," said Sibyl. She turned wearily on her +pillow, and the next instant sleep had visited the perplexed little +brain. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +"Nursie," said Sibyl, two months after the events related in the last +chapter, "mother says that when my ownest father comes back again +we'll be very rich." + +"Um," replied nurse, with a grunt, "do she?" + +"Why do you speak in that sort of voice, nursie? It's very nice to be +rich. I have been having long talks with mother, and she has 'splained +things. It means a great deal to be rich. I am so glad that my father +is coming back a very, very rich man. I didn't understand at first. I +thought to be rich just meant to have lots of money, and big, big +houses, and heaps of bags of sweeties, and toys and ponies, and, oh, +the kind of things that don't matter a bit. But now I know what to be +rich really is." + +"Yes, dear," said nurse. She was seated in the old nursery close to +the window. She was mending some of Sibyl's stockings. A little pile +of neatly mended pairs lay on the table, and there was a frock which +also wanted a darn reclining on the back of the old woman's chair. +Sibyl broke off and watched her nurse's movements with close interest. + +"Why do you wear spectacles?" she asked suddenly. + +"Because, my love, my sight is failing. I ain't as young as I was." + +"What does 'not as young as you was' mean?" + +"What I say, my dear." + +"I notice," said Sibyl, thoughtfully, "that all very, very old people +say they're not as young as they was, and so you wear spectacles 'cos +you're not as young as you was, and 'cos you can't see as well as you +did." + +"That's about it, Missy, and when I have to darn the stockings of a +naughty little Miss, and to mend holes in her dress, I have to put on +my glasses." + +"Then I'm glad we're going to be rich; it will be quite easy to +'splain why I am glad," continued Sibyl, thoughtfully. "When our gold +comes, nursie, you'll never have to do no more darning, and you need +never wear your glasses 'cept just to read lovely books. Oh, we'll do +such a lot when we are rich. There's poor Mr. Holman: I was talking to +him only yesterday. Do you know, nursie, his shop isn't paying, not a +bit, and he was, oh, so sad about it, and Mrs. Holman began to cry. +She told me there's a new big toy-shop in Palace Road, a great big +lovely _swampy_ sort of shop. I mean by that, that it takes all the +customers. They go in there and they spend their money, and there's +none left for poor Mr. Holman. It's just 'cos he lives in Greek +Street, and Greek Street is what is called a back street. Isn't it +perfectly shameful, nursie? Mr. Holman said if they could afford to +have a shop in Palace Road he would get all the little boys and girls +back again. But they won't come into his nice, quiet _back_ street. I +like back streets, don't you, nursie? It's horrid of the boys and +girls not to go to Mr. Holman's." + +"It's the way of the world, dear," answered nurse; "the world always +goes with the prosperous people. Them that are struggling the world +leaves behind. It's a cruel way, but it's the way the world has got." + +"Then I hate the world," said Sibyl. "My beautiful Lord Jesus wouldn't +allow it if He was on earth now, would He, nursie?" + +"Oh, my love, there'd be a lot of things _He'd_ have to change if He +came back; but don't ask me any more questions now, Missy. You go out +with your governess. You don't get half enough of the air, to my way +of thinking; you're looking peaky, and not what the master would like +to see." + +"But I am perfectly well," answered Sibyl, "I never felt better in all +my borned days. You know, nursie, I have got a lot to do now. Father +gave me 'rections in that letter that nobody else is to see, and one +of them was that I was to keep well, so I'll go for a walk if you +think it will be good for me; only I just wish to say that when father +comes back dear Mr. Holman shall have his shop in Palace Road, and a +lot of fresh toys put in it, and then he'll be quite happy and +smiling, and his shop will swamp up all the children, and all the +pennies and all the half-pennies and sixpennies, and poor, dear, +darling Mrs. Holman won't have to wipe away her tears any more." + +Sibyl skipped out of the room, and nurse said several times under her +breath-- + +"Bless her! the darling she is!" + +Smartly dressed, as was her mother's wish, the little girl now ran +downstairs. Miss Winstead was not ready. Sibyl waited for her in the +hall. She felt elated and pleased, and just at that moment a servant +crossed the spacious hall, and opened the hall door. Standing on the +steps was Mr. Rochester. Sibyl uttered a great whoop when she saw him, +rushed forward, and seized him by the hand. + +"Oh, I am glad to see you," she said. "Have you come to see me, or to +see mother?" + +"I am very glad to see you," replied the young man; "but I did call to +see your mother." + +"Well, come to the drawing-room, I'll entertain you till mother +comes. Go upstairs, please, Watson, and tell mother that Mr. Rochester +is here. Be sure you say Mr. Rochester--_nice_ Mr. Rochester." + +Watson smiled, as he often did when Sibyl addressed him, and nice Mr. +Rochester and the little girl disappeared into the drawing-room. + +Sibyl shut the door, took his hand, and looked earnestly into his +face. + +"Well?" she said. + +"Why do you say that?" he asked, in some confusion. + +"I was only wondering if Lady Helen had done it." + +"Really, Sibyl, you say very queer things," answered Rochester. He sat +down on a chair. + +"Oh, you know you are awfully fond of her, and you want her to marry +you, and I want her to marry you because I like you. You are very +nice, very nice indeed, and you are rich, you know. Mother has been +'splaining to me about rich people. It's most 'portant that everybody +should be rich, isn't it, Mr. Rochester? It's the only way to be +truly, truly happy, isn't it?" + +"That it is not, Sibyl. Who has been putting such an idea into your +head?" + +Sibyl looked at him, and was about to say, "Why, mother," but she +checked herself. A cloud took some of the brightness out of her eyes. +She looked puzzled for a moment, then she laughed. + +"When my own father comes back again we'll all be rich people. I hope +when you are very, very rich you'll make," she said, "dear Lady Helen +happy. I am very glad, now, my father went to Australia. It gave me +dreadful pain at the time, but when he comes back we'll all be rich. +What has he gone about; do you know, Mr. Rochester?" + +"Something about a gold mine. Your father is a great engineer, and his +opinion with regard to the mine will be of the utmost value. If he +says it is a good mine, with a lot of gold in it, then the British +public will buy shares. They will buy shares as fast as ever they +can." + +"What are shares?" asked Sibyl. + +"It is difficult to explain. Shares mean a little bit of the gold out +of the mine, and these people will buy them in order to become rich." + +"It's very puzzling," said Sibyl. "And it depends on father?" + +"Yes, because if he says there is not much gold in the mine, then no +one will buy shares. Don't you understand, it all depends on him." + +"It's _very_ puzzling," said Sibyl again. "Are you going to buy +shares, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I think so," he answered earnestly. "I shall buy several shares, I +think, and if I do I shall be rich enough to ask Lady Helen to marry +me." + +"And you will be happy?" + +"Very happy if she says 'yes.' But, Sibyl, this is a great secret +between you and me, you must never tell it to anyone else." + +"You may trust me," said Sibyl, "I never tell things I'm told not to +tell. You can't think what wonderful 'portant things father has told +me, and I never, never speak of them again. Then you'll be glad to be +rich?" + +"Yes, because I shall be happy if Lady Helen is my wife," he answered, +and just then Mrs. Ogilvie came into the room. + +Sibyl and Miss Winstead went out for their daily exercise. Sibyl had +already ridden the pony in the morning. It was a nameless pony. +Nothing would induce her to give it a title. + +"When father comes back he'll christen my pony," she said, "but no one +else shall. I won't give it no name till he comes back." + +She enjoyed her rides on the brisk little pony's back. She was rapidly +becoming a good horsewoman. When her mother did not accompany her the +redoubtable Watson followed his little mistress, and the exercise did +the child good, and helped to bring a faint color to her cheeks. + +Now she and Miss Winstead walked slowly down the shady side of the +street. Sibyl was pondering over many things. + +"It is very hot this morning," said the governess. + +"Oh, that don't matter," replied Sibyl. "Miss Winstead, is your head +sometimes so full that it seems as if it would burst?" + +"No," answered Miss Winstead, "I cannot say it is." + +"Full of thoughts, you know." + +"No," replied the governess again. "Don't turn in your toes, Sibyl, +walk straight, turn your toes out a little, so; keep step with me. +Little ladies ought to walk properly." + +Sibyl took great pains to follow Miss Winstead's instructions. She was +always taking great pains now. A wonderful lot of her naughtiness and +daringness had left her. She was trying to be good. It was extremely +irksome, but when she succeeded she felt a great glow of pleasure, for +she believed herself near to her father. + +"Miss Winstead," she said suddenly, "I have been thinking of +something. It is most terribly 'portant. Would you greatly mind if we +went to see the Holmans before we go back?" + +"We shan't have time," replied Miss Winstead. + +"Oh, but I want to go," said Sibyl, knitting her brows, "don't let us +go into the stupid Park, do come to the Holmans." + +"I cannot do it, Sibyl, it is impossible. We must be back rather early +for lunch to-day, as your mother is going into the country this +afternoon." + +"Mother going into the country, what for?" + +"I cannot tell you, it is not my affair." + +"That means that you know, but you won't tell." + +"You can put it in that way if you like. I won't tell. Now come into +the Park, we can sit on one of the chairs under the trees and keep +cool." + +Sibyl obeyed unwillingly. She felt, as she said afterwards, as if Miss +Winstead had rubbed her the wrong way. + +"I am like a pussy-cat when its fur is rubbed quite the wrong side +up," thought the little girl. "I don't like it, not a bit." + +Presently she slipped her hand through her governess's arm, and said +in a coaxing voice-- + +"Do come home through Greek Street; I do want just to say one word to +Mr. Holman, you can't think how 'portant it is." + +"I cannot, Sibyl; you must not ask me again." Here Miss Winstead took +out her watch. + +"We must hurry home," she said; "I had not the least idea the time was +going so fast." + +They left the Park, and came back in time for lunch. During lunch +both Mrs. Ogilvie and her little daughter were very silent. Sibyl was +thinking of the Holmans, and how more than important it was that she +should see them soon, and Mrs. Ogilvie had another thought in her +head, a thought which caused her eyes to dance with pleasure. + +"Why isn't Mr. Rochester here?" said the little girl at last. + +"He could not stay," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "You and he are great +friends, are you not, Sib?" + +"He is nice, he is very nice," said the child; "he and Lady Helen--oh, +more than nice. I like 'em very much, don't you, mother?" + +"Yes, dear." Mrs. Ogilvie got up. "Good-by, Sibyl, I shall be back +late this evening." + +"Good-by, mother dear." + +Mrs. Ogilvie left the room. Miss Winstead, having finished her lunch, +desired Sibyl to be quick with hers, and then to follow her to the +schoolroom. There was no one in the room now but Sibyl and the +footman, Watson. Watson began to remove the things. Sibyl played with +a biscuit. Suddenly she looked full up at the young man. + +"Are you tired after your ride this morning Watson?" + +"No, Miss Sibyl, not at all." + +"I wonder if you're awfully hungry, Watson?" + +"Why so, Miss?" + +"Because it's time for the servants' dinner." + +"Well, Miss, I'm going down to the hall presently, when I shall have +my appetite satisfied, thank you all the same for inquiring." + +Watson greatly enjoyed having a private chat with Sibyl. + +"You couldn't, p'waps," said the little girl, knitting her brows, "you +couldn't, p'waps, come a short way down the street with me afore you +begin your dinner?" + +"Where do you want to go, Miss?" + +"I want to see Mr. Holman; you know Mr. Holman, don't you, Watson? He +is the dear, kind, nice, sorrowful man who keeps the dusty toys." + +"I have heard of him from you, Miss." + +"It's most 'portant that I should see him and his wife, and if you +walked behind me, mother would not be very angry. Would you come, +Watson? You might just put on your hat and come at once. I have not +taken off my hat and coat. We can do it and be back afore Miss +Winstead finds out." + +Watson looked out of the window. He saw Mrs Ogilvie at that moment go +down the steps, closing the door behind her. She walked away in the +direction of the nearest railway station. She held a dainty parasol +over her head. He turned to where the eager little face of Sibyl was +watching him. + +"If you're very quick, Miss," he said, "I'll do it." + +"You are good," said Sibyl. "Do you know, Watson, that you're a very +nice man--you have very good impulses, I mean. I heard father once say +of a man who dined here that he had good impulses, and I think he had +a look of you; and you have very good impulses, too. Now let's go; do +let's be quick." + +A moment later the footman and the child were in the street. Sibyl +walked on in front, and Watson a couple of feet behind her. Holman's +shop was fortunately not far off, and they soon entered it. + +"Watson," said the little girl, "you can stand in the doorway. It's +very private, what I has to say to the Holmans; you must on no account +listen." + +"No, Miss, I won't." + +Sibyl now entered the shop. Mrs. Holman was alone there. She was +attending in the shop while her husband was eating his dinner. She +looked very sad, and, as Sibyl expressed it afterwards, rusty. There +were days when Mrs. Holman did present that appearance--when her cap +seemed to want dusting and her collar to want freshness. Her black +dress, too, looked a little worn. Sibyl was very, very sorry for her +when she saw her in this dress. + +"Dear! dear!" she said; "I am glad I came. You look as if you wanted +cheering up. Mrs. Holman, I've splendid news for you." + +"What is that, my dear little lady? That you have got money to buy +another toy? But Mr. Holman said only as late as last night that he +wouldn't send you another worn-out toy not for nobody. 'Tain't fair, +my love. It seems like playing on your generosity, my dear." + +"But I like them," said the child; "I do really, truly. I paint them +up with the paints in my paint-box and make them look as good as new. +They are much more interesting than perfect toys, they are truly." + +"Well, dear, your mother would not like it if she know we treated you +in what my husband says is a shabby way." + +"Don't think any more about that now, Mrs. Holman. You both treat me +as I love to be treated--as though I were your little friend." + +"Which you are, darling--which you are." + +"Well, Mrs. Holman, I must hurry; I must tell you my good news. Do you +remember telling me last week that you had a hundred pounds put away +in the Savings Bank, and that you didn't know what to do with it. You +said, 'Money ought to make money,' and you didn't know how your +hundred pounds would make money. It was such a funny speech, and you +tried to 'splain it to me, and I tried to understand." + +"It was silly of my husband and me to talk of it before you, Missy. It +is true we have got a hundred pounds. It is a nest-egg against a rainy +day." + +"Now again you are talking funnily; a nest-egg against a rainy day?" + +"Against a time of trouble when we may want to spend the money." + +"Oh, I understand that," answered the child. + +"And I had it well invested, but the money was paid back, and there +was nothing for it but to pop it into the Post Office Savings Bank." + +"It's there still, is it?" said Sibyl, her eyes shining. + +"Yes, dear." + +"Well, now, what do you say to buying bits of gold with it?" + +"Bits of gold with our hundred pounds?" said Mrs. Holman, staring at +Sibyl. + +"Yes, that is exactly what I mean; bits of gold. You will be able to +if you keep it long enough. If you promise to keep that money safe you +may be able to buy great lumps of gold out of my father's gold mine. +My father has gone to Australia to----Oh, I must not tell you, for it +really is an awful, awful secret; but, anyhow, when he comes back +you'll be able to make a lot of money out of your money, to buy heaps +of bits of gold. Will you promise to keep that hundred pounds till +father comes home? That's what I came about, to ask you to promise, +and Watson came with me because Miss Winstead wouldn't. Will you +promise, dear Mrs. Holman?" + +"Bless you, darling," said Mrs. Holman, "so that is why your father +has gone away. It do sound exciting." + +"It's awfully exciting, isn't it? We shall all be so rich. Mother said +so, and mother ought to know. You'll be rich, and I'll be rich, and +dear, dear nursie will be rich, and even Watson. Watson has got such +good impulses. He'll be rich, too, and he shall marry the girl he is +fond of; and there is a friend of mine, he wants to marry another +girl, and they shall be rich and they shall marry. Oh, nobody need be +sorrowful any more. Everybody will be quite happy when father comes +back. You'll be able to have your shop in Palace Road, and oh, be sure +you keep that hundred pounds till then." + +Sibyl did not wait for Mrs. Holman to make any further remark. Mrs. +Holman's eyes looked bright and excited; the child dashed out of the +shop. + +"Come, Watson," she said, "you'll have a splendid appetite for your +dinner, and you have done a very good deed. You have denied yourself, +Watson, and made a sorrowful woman happy. What do you think of that?" + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +About this time Mrs. Ogilvie was subjected to a somewhat severe form +of temptation. It had been one of the biggest dreams of her life to +possess a country place. She had never been satisfied with the fact +that she and her husband must live in town except when they went to +lodgings at the seaside, or were on visits to their friends. She +wanted to have their own country place to go to just when she pleased, +a place where she could invite her friends whenever the whim seized +her. In an evil moment, almost immediately after Ogilvie had gone to +Australia, she had visited a house agent and told him some of her +desires. + +"My husband is not prepared to buy a place now," she said in +conclusion, "but he soon will be in a position to do so, and I want +you to look round for me and tell me if anything nice happens to come +into the market." + +The agent had replied that he would be sure to let his client know if +anything suitable came his way. Very soon places, apparently quite to +Mrs. Ogilvie's heart, did come in the agent's way, and then somehow, +in some fashion, other house agents got wind of Mrs. Ogilvie's +desire, and now scarcely a post came that did not bring her most +tempting prospectuses with regard to country places. There was one in +particular which so exactly pleased her that she became quite +_distrait_ and restless except when she was talking of it. She went to +see this special place several times. It was on the Thames just above +Richmond. The grounds sloped down to the water. The house itself was +built in a low, rambling, eccentric fashion. It covered a considerable +extent of ground; there were several gardens, and they were all nicely +kept and were bright with flowers, and had many overhanging trees. The +house itself, too, had every modern comfort. There were many bedrooms +and several fine reception rooms, and there were tennis and croquet +lawns in the grounds, all smooth as velvet and perfectly level. There +were also kitchen-gardens, and some acres of land, as yet undevoted to +any special purpose, at the back of the house. It was just the sort of +place which a man who was in a nice position in society might be glad +to own. Its late owner had given it the somewhat eccentric title of +Silverbel, and certainly the place was as bright and charming as its +name. + +This desirable little property was to be obtained, with its +surrounding acres, for the modest sum of twenty thousand pounds, and +Mrs. Ogilvie was so fascinated by the thought of being mistress of +Silverbel, on the lovely winding River Thames, that she wrote to her +husband on the subject. + +"It is the very best place of its kind in the market," she wrote. "It +was sold to its present owner for thirty thousand pounds, but he is +obliged to live abroad and is anxious to sell it, and would give it +for twenty thousand. I want you, when you receive this, to wire to me +to carry on negotiations in your absence. I have already consulted our +lawyer, Mr. Acland. He says the house is drained, and the air of the +place would be just the kind to suit Sibyl. She would enjoy so much +her row on the river, and all our friends would like it. With the +money you must now have at your disposal you can surely gratify me +with regard to Silverbel." + +Mrs. Ogilvie had, of course, not yet received any answer to her +letter, but she visited Silverbel twice a week, and took Sibyl also to +see the beautiful place. + +"It will be yours when father comes home," she said to the child. + +Sibyl skipped about madly. + +"It's just too 'licious!" she said. "Is this one of the things God +gives us because we are rich? Isn't it kind of Lord Jesus to make us +rich? Don't you love Him very, very much, mother?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie always turned aside when Sibyl spoke to her about her +love for the Lord Jesus. Not that she considered herself by any means +an irreligious woman. She went to church always once, and sometimes +twice on Sunday. She subscribed to any number of charities, and as the +little girl now spoke her eyes became full of a soft light. + +"We can have a bazaar here," she said, "a bazaar for the Home for +Incurables at Watleigh. Lady Severn was talking to me about it last +night, and said how terribly it needed funds. Sibyl, when father comes +back we will have a great big bazaar here at lovely Silverbel, and a +marquee on the lawn, and we will ask all the most charitable people in +London to take stalls; some of the big-wigs, you know." + +"Big-wigs?" said Sibyl, "what are they?" + +"People, my dear child, who are high up in the social scale." + +"I don't understand, mother," answered Sibyl. "Oh, do look at this +rose, did you ever see such a perfect beauty? May I pick it, mother? +It is just perfect, isn't it, not quite full out and yet not a bud. +I'd like very much to send it to my ownest father." + +"Silly child! Yes, of course you may pick it, but it will be dead long +before it reaches him." + +"It's heart won't be dead," said Sibyl. She did not know why she made +the latter remark. She often did say things which she but half +understood. She carefully picked the rose and fastened it into the +front of her white dress. When she returned to town that evening she +put the rose in water and looked at it with affectionate interest. + +"What a pretty flower! Where did my darling get it?" said nurse. + +"At Silverbel, the beautiful, beautiful place that father is going to +buy when he is rich. You can't think how good mother is growing, +nursie; she is getting better and better every day." + +"H'm!" said nurse. + +"Why do you make those sort of noises when I speak of my mother? I +don't like it," said the child. "But I must tell you about Silverbel. +Mother says it is practicalically ours now. I don't quite know what +she means by practicalically, but I suppose she means that it is +almost our place. Anyhow, when my dearest rich father comes back it +will be ours, and we are going to make poor Mr. Holman quite rich, and +you, darling nursie, quite rich, and--and others quite rich. We are +going to have a great big bazaar at Silverbel, and the _big-wigs_ are +coming to it. Isn't it a funny word! perhaps you don't know what +big-wigs are, but I do." + +Nurse laughed. + +"Eat your supper and go to bed, Miss Sibyl. You are staying up a great +deal too late, and you are learning things you had better know nothing +about." + +Meanwhile Mrs. Ogilvie downstairs was having a consultation with her +lawyer. + +"I don't want to lose the place," she said. "My husband is safe to be +satisfied with my decision." + +"If you have really made up your mind to pay twenty thousand pounds +for the place, and I cannot say that I think it at all dear," replied +the lawyer, "I have no objection to lending you a couple of thousand +pounds to pay a deposit. You need not complete the purchase for at +least three months, and I have not the slightest doubt I can further +arrange that you may go into possession, say--well, any time you like +after the deposit money is paid." + +"Can you really?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, her eyes growing dark and almost +passionate in their eagerness. + +"At the worst it could be taken off your hands," he answered; "but +doubtless, from what you tell me, Ogilvie will be well able to +complete the thing; only remember, pray remember, Mrs. Ogilvie, that +this is rather a big matter, and if by any chance your husband does +not find the Lombard Deeps all that Lord Grayleigh expects"--he paused +and looked thoughtful. "I can lend you the money if you wish it," he +said then abruptly. + +"The money to enable me to pay a deposit?" she said. + +"Yes; two thousand pounds; I believe the owners will take that on +condition that the purchase is completed, say, in October." + +"My husband will be back by then. I have a great mind to agree," she +said. She almost trembled in her eagerness. After a moment's pause she +spoke. + +"I will accept your offer, Mr. Acland. I don't know where to go in +August and September, and Silverbel will be the very place. Mr. +Ogilvie will thank you most heartily for your generous trust in us +both when he comes back." + +"I have plenty of funds to meet this loan," thought the lawyer. "I am +safe so far." Aloud he said, "Then I will go and see the owners +to-morrow." + +"This clinches the matter," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "I will begin ordering +the furniture immediately." + +The lawyer and the lady had a little further conversation, and then +Mrs. Ogilvie dressed and went out to dine, and told many of her +friends of her golden dreams. + +"A place in the country, a place like Silverbel, has always been the +longing of my life," she said, and she looked pathetic and almost +ethereal, as she spoke, and as though nothing pleased her more than a +ramble through country lanes with buttercups and daisies within reach. + +On the following Sunday, Rochester happened to lunch with Mrs. Ogilvie +and her little daughter. Mrs. Ogilvie talked during the entire meal of +the beautiful place which was soon to be hers. + +"You shall come with Sibyl and me to see it to-morrow," she said. "I +will ask Lady Helen to come, too. I will send her a note by messenger. +We might meet at Victoria Station at eleven o'clock, and go to +Silverbel and have lunch at the little inn on the river." + +Rochester agreed somewhat eagerly. His eyes brightened. He looked at +Sibyl, who gave him a meaning, affectionate, sympathetic glance. She +would enjoy very much seeing the lovers wandering through beautiful +Silverbel side by side. + +"It's the most darling, lovely place," she said; "nobody knows how +beautiful it is. I do hope it will soon be ours." + +"When our ship comes in, it will be ours," said Mrs. Ogilvie, and she +laughed merrily and looked full of happiness. + +When the servants left the room, however, Rochester bent forward and +said something to Mrs. Ogilvie which did not please that good lady +quite so much. + +"Have you heard the rumors with regard to the Lombard Deeps Gold +Mine?" he asked. + +"What rumors?" Mrs. Ogilvie looked anxious. "I know nothing whatever +about business," she said, testily, "I leave all that absolutely to my +husband. I know that he considers the mine an excellent one, but his +full report cannot yet have reached England." + +"Of course it has not. Ogilvie's report in full cannot come to hand +for another six weeks. I allude now to a paragraph in one of the great +financial papers, in which the mine is somewhat depreciated, the gold +being said to be much less to the ton than was originally supposed, +and the strata somewhat shallow, and terminating abruptly. Doubtless +there is no truth in it." + +"Not a word, not a word," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "but I make a point of +being absolutely ignorant with regard to gold mines. I consider it +positively wrong of a woman to mix herself up in such masculine +matters. All the sweet femininity of character must depart if such +knowledge is carried to any extent." + +"Lady Helen knows about all these sort of things, and yet I think she +is quite feminine," said Rochester; and then he colored faintly and +looked at Sibyl, whose eyes danced with fun. + +Mrs. Ogilvie slowly rose from the table. + +"You will find cigars in that box," she said. "No, Sibyl, you are not +to stay with Mr. Rochester; come to the drawing-room with me." + +"Oh, do let her stay," earnestly pleaded the young man, "she has often +sat with me while I smoked before." + +"Well, as you please, but don't spoil her," said the mother. She left +the room, and Sibyl curled herself up luxuriously in a deep armchair +near Mr. Rochester. + +"I have a lot of things to ask you," she said; "I am not going to be +like my ownest mother, I am going to be like Lady Helen. I want to +understand about the gold mine. I want to understand why, if you give +your money to a certain thing, you get back little bits of gold. Can +you make the gold into sovereigns, is that what happens?" + +"It is extremely difficult for me to explain," said Rochester, "but I +think the matter lies in a nutshell. If your father gives a good +report of the mine there will be a great deal of money subscribed, as +it is called, by different people." + +"What's subscribed?" + +"Well, given. You know what it means when people ask your mother to +subscribe to a charity?" + +"Oh, yes, I know quite well; and Mr. and Mrs. Holman, they may +subscribe, may they?" + +"Yes, whoever they may be. I don't know Mr. and Mrs. Holman, but of +course they may intend to subscribe, and other people will do the +same, and if we give, say, a hundred pounds we shall get back perhaps +one hundred and fifty, perhaps two hundred." + +"Oh, that's very nice," said Sibyl; "I seem to understand, and yet I +don't understand." + +"You understand enough, my dear little girl, quite enough. Don't +puzzle your poor little brain. Your mother is right, these are matters +for men." + +"And you are quite certain that my father will say that the beautiful +mine is full of gold?" said Sibyl. + +"He will say it if the gold is there." + +"And if it is not?" + +"Then he will tell the truth." + +"Of course," said Sibyl, proudly. "My father couldn't tell a lie if he +was even to try. It would be impossible, wouldn't it, Mr. Rochester?" + +"I should say quite impossible," replied Rochester firmly. + +"You are awfully nice, you know," she said; "you are nice enough even +for Lady Helen. I do hope father will find the mine full up to the +brim with gold. Such a lot of people will be happy then." + +"So they will," replied Rochester. + +"And darlingest mother can have the beautiful place. Hasn't the new +place got a lovely name--Silverbel?" + +"It sounds very pretty, Sibyl." + +"And you will come to-morrow and see it, won't you?" + +"Yes." + +"And you will bring Lady Helen?" + +"Your mother will bring Lady Helen." + +"It's all the same," replied Sibyl. "Oh, I am so glad." + +She talked a little longer, and then went upstairs. + +Miss Winstead often spent Sunday with her friends. She was not in the +schoolroom now as Sibyl entered. Sibyl thought this was a golden +opportunity to write to her father. She sat down and prepared to write +a letter. This was always a somewhat laborious task. Her thoughts +flowed freely enough, but her hand could not wield the pen quite quick +enough for the eager thoughts, nor was her spelling perfect, nor her +written thoughts quite so much to the point as her spoken ones. +Nevertheless, it was full time for her father to hear from her, and +she had a great deal to say. She took a sheet of paper, dipped her pen +in the ink, and began: + + "DARLINGIST FATHER,--Yesterday I picked a rose at Silverbel, + the place that mother wants us to have when you com bak + rich. Here's the rose for you. Pwaps it will be withered, + father, but its hart will be alive. Kiss it and think of + Sibyl. It's hart is like my hart, and my hart thinks of you + morning, noon, and night, evry night, father, and evry + morning, and allways, allways during the hole of the day. + It's most portant, father, that you should come back rich. + It's most solum nesesarey. I do so hope the mine will be + full up to the brim with gold, for if it is a lot of people + here will be made happy. Have you found the mine yet, + father, and is it ful to the brim of gold? You don't know + how portant it is. It's cos of Mr. and Mrs. Holman, father, + and their dusty broken toys, and cos of nursie and her + spectakles, and cos of one who wants to marry another one, + and I mustn't tell names, and cos of the big-wigs, father. + Oh, it is portant. + + "Your lovin + "SIBYL." + +"He'll understand," thought Sibyl; "he's wonderful for seeing right +through a thing, and he'll quite know what I mean by the 'heart of the +rose,'" and she kissed the rose passionately and put it inside the +letter, and nurse directed the letter for her, and it was dropped into +the pillar-box that same night. + +The letter was not read by the one it was intended for until--but that +refers to another part of the story. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +The next day was a glorious one, and Lady Helen, Mr. Rochester, Mrs. +Ogilvie, and Sibyl all met at Victoria Station in time to catch the +11.20 train to Richmond, the nearest station to Silverbel. There a +carriage was to meet them, to take them to the house. They were to +lunch at a small inn close by, and afterwards have a row on the river; +altogether a very delightful day was planned. + +It was now the heart of a glorious summer--such a summer as does not +often visit England. The sky was cloudless; the sun shone, but the +great heat was tempered by a soft, delicious breeze. + +Sibyl, all in white, with a white shady hat making her little face +even more lovely than usual, stood by her mother's side, close to a +first-class carriage, to await the arrival of the other two. + +Lady Helen and Rochester were seen walking slowly down the platform. +Sibyl gave one of her gleeful shouts, and ran to meet them. + +"Here you both is!" she said, and she looked full up at Lady Helen, +with such a charming glance of mingled affection and understanding, +that Lady Helen blushed, in spite of herself. + +Lady Helen Douglas was a very nice-looking girl, not exactly pretty, +but her gray eyes were capable of many shades of emotion. They were +large, and full of intelligence. Her complexion was almost colorless. +She had a slim, graceful figure. Her jet-black hair, which she wore +softly coiled round her head, was also thick and beautiful. Sibyl used +to like to touch that hair, and loved very much to nestle up close to +the graceful figure, and take shy peeps into the depths of the eyes +which seemed to hold secrets. + +"You do look nice," said Sibyl, speaking in a semi-whisper, but in a +tone of great ecstasy, "and so does Mr. Rochester. Do you know, I +always call him nice Mr. Rochester. Watson is so interested in him." + +"Who is Watson?" asked Lady Helen. + +"Don't you know, he is our footman. He is very nice, too; he is full +of impulses, and they are all good. I expect the reason he is so +awfully interested in _dear_ Mr. Rochester is because they are both +having love affairs. You know, Watson has a girl, too, he is awfully +fond of; I 'spect they'll marry when father comes back with all the +gold. You don't know how fond I am of Watson; he's a very great, +special friend of mine. Now here's the carriage. Let's all get in. +Aren't you both glad you're coming, and coming together, both of you +_together_, to visit Silverbel. It's a 'licious place; there are all +kinds of little private walks and shrubberies, and seats for two under +trees. Two that want to be alone can be alone at Silverbel. Now let's +all get into the carriage." + +Poor Rochester and Lady Helen at that moment thought Sibyl almost an +_enfant terrible_. However, there was no help for it. She would have +her say, and her words were bright and her interest of the keenest. It +mattered nothing at all to her that passers-by turned to look and +smiled in an amused way. + +Mrs. Ogilvie was in an excellent humor. All the way down she talked to +Lady Helen of the bazaar which she had already arranged was to take +place at Silverbel during the last week in August. + +"I had meant to put it off until my husband returned," she remarked +finally, "but on reflection that seemed a pity, for he is scarcely +likely to be back before the end of October, and by then it would be +too late; and, besides, the poor dear Home for Incurables needs its +funds, and why should it languish when we are all anxious, more than +anxious, to be charitable? Mr. Acland, my lawyer, is going to pay a +deposit on the price of the estate, so I can enter into possession +almost immediately. I am going to get Morris & Liberty to furnish the +place, and I shall send down servants next week. But about the +bazaar. I mean it to be perfect in every way. The stalls are to be +held by unmarried titled ladies. Your services, Lady Helen, must be +secured immediately." + +"Oh, yes," cried Sibyl, "you are to have a most beautiful stall, a +flower stall: what do you say?" + +"If I have a stall I will certainly choose a flower stall," replied +Lady Helen, and she smiled at Sibyl, and patted her hand. + +They soon arrived at Richmond, and got into the carriage which was +waiting for them, and drove to Silverbel. They had lunch at the inn as +arranged, and then they wandered about the grounds, and presently +Sibyl had her wish, for Rochester and Lady Helen strolled away from +her mother and herself, and walked down a shady path to the right of +the house. + +"There they go!" cried the child. + +"There who go, Sibyl?" asked Mrs. Ogilvie. + +"The one who wants to marry the other," replied Sibyl. "Hush, mother, +we are not to know, we are to be quite blind. Aren't you awfully +incited?" + +"You are a very silly, rude little girl," replied the mother. "You +must not make the sort of remarks you are always making to Mr. +Rochester and Lady Helen. Such remarks are in very bad form. Now, +don't take even the slightest notice when they return." + +"Aren't I to speak to them?" asked Sibyl, raising her eyes in wonder. + +"Of course, but you are not to say anything special." + +"Oh, nothing special. Am I to talk about the weather?" + +"No; don't be such a little goose." + +"I always notice," replied Sibyl, softly, "that when _quite_ strangers +meet, they talk about the weather. I thought that was why. Can't I say +anything more--more as if they were my very dear old friends? I +thought they'd like it. I thought they'd like to know that there was +one here who understanded all about it." + +"About it?" + +"Their love, mother, their love for--for each other." + +"Who may the one be who is supposed to understand?" + +"Me, mother," said Sibyl. + +Mrs. Ogilvie burst into a ringing laugh. + +"You are a most ridiculous little girl," she said. "Now, listen; you +are not to take any notice when they come back. They are not engaged; +perhaps they never will be. Anyhow, you will make yourself an +intensely disagreeable child if you make such remarks as you have +already made. Do you understand?" + +"You has put it plain, mother," replied Sibyl. "I think I do. Now, +let's look at the flowers." + +"I have ordered the landlord of the inn to serve tea on the lawn," +continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "Is it not nice to feel that we are going to +have tea on our own lawn, Sibyl?" + +"It's lovely!" replied Sibyl. + +"I am devoted to the country," continued the mother; "there is no +place like the country for me." + +"So I think, too," replied Sibyl. "I love the country. We'll have all +the very poorest people down here, won't we, mother?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"All the people who want to be made happy; Mr. and Mrs. Holman, and +the other faded old people in the almshouses that I went to see one +time with Miss Winstead." + +"Now you are talking in your silly way again," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. +"You make me quite cross when you talk of that old couple, Mr. and +Mrs. Holman." + +"But, mother, why aren't they to be rich if we are to be rich? Do you +know that Mrs. Holman is saving up her money to buy some of the gold +out of father's mine. She expects to get two hundred pounds instead of +one. It's very puzzling, and yet I seem to understand. Oh, here comes +Mr. Landlord with the tea-things. How inciting!" + +The table was spread, and cake, bread and butter, and fruit provided. +Lady Helen and Rochester came back. They both looked a little +conscious and a little afraid of Sibyl, but as she turned her back on +them the moment they appeared, and pretended to be intensely busy +picking a bouquet of flowers, they took their courage in their hands +and came forward and joined in the general conversation. + +Lady Helen elected to pour out tea, and was extremely cheerful, +although she could not help reddening when Sibyl brought her a very +large marguerite daisy, and asked her to pull off the petals and see +whether the rhyme came right. + +"What rhyme?" asked Lady Helen. + +"I know it all, shall I say it to you?" cried Sibyl. She began to pull +off the different petals, and to repeat in a childish sing-song +voice:-- + + "One he loves, two he loves, three he loves they say, + Four he loves with all his heart, five he casts away, + Six _he_ loves, seven _she_ loves, eight they both love, + Nine he comes, ten he tarries, + Eleven he woos, twelve he marries." + +Sibyl repeated this nonsense with extreme gusto, and when the final +petal on the large daisy proclaimed that "twelve he marries," she +flung the stalk at Rochester and laughed gaily. + +"I knew _you'd_ have luck," she said. Then she caught her mother's +warning eye and colored painfully, thus making the situation, if +possible, a little more awkward. + +"Suppose we go for a row on the river this lovely afternoon," said +Lady Helen, starting up restlessly. She had talked of the coming +bazaar, and had wandered through the rooms at Silverbel, and had +listened to Mrs. Ogilvie's suggestions with regard to furniture and +different arrangements until she was almost tired of the subject. + +Rochester sprang to his feet. + +"I can easily get a boat," he said; "I'll go and consult with mine +host." + +He sauntered across the grounds, and Sibyl, after a moment's +hesitation, followed him. A boat was soon procured, and they all found +themselves on the shining silver Thames. + +"Is that why our house is called Silverbel?" asked Sibyl. "Is it 'cos +we can see the silver shine of the river, and 'cos it is _belle_, +French for beautiful?" + +"Perhaps so," answered the mother with a smile. + +The evening came on, the heat of the day was over, the sun faded. + +"What a pity we must go back to London," said Sibyl. "I don't think I +ever had such a lovely day before." + +"We shall soon be back here," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "I shall see about +furnishing next week at the latest, and we can come down whenever we +are tired of town." + +"That will be lovely," said Sibyl. "Oh, won't my pony love cantering +over the roads here!" + +When they landed at the little quay just outside the inn, the landlord +came down to meet them. He held a telegram in his hand. + +"This came for you, madam, in your absence," he said, and he gave the +telegram to Mrs. Ogilvie. She tore it open. It was from her lawyer, +Mr. Acland, and ran as follows: + +"Ominous rumors with regard to Lombard Deeps have reached me. Better +not go any further at present with the purchase of Silverbel." + +Mrs. Ogilvie's face turned pale. She looked up and met the fixed stare +of her little daughter and of Rochester. Lady Helen had turned away. +She was leaning over the rails of the little garden and looking down +into the swiftly flowing river. + +Mrs. Ogilvie's face grew hard. She crushed up the telegram in her +hand. + +"I hope there is nothing wrong?" asked Rochester. + +"Nothing at all," she replied. "Yes, we will come here next week. +Sibyl, don't stare in that rude way." + +The return journey was not as lively as that happy one in the morning. + +Sibyl felt through her sensitive little frame that her mother was +worried about something. Rochester also looked anxious. Lady Helen +alone seemed unconscious and _distrait_. When the child nestled up to +her she put her arm round her waist. + +"Are you sad about anything, darling Lady Helen?" whispered Sibyl. + +"No, Sibyl; I am quite happy." + +"Then you are thinking very hard?" + +"I often think." + +"I do so want you to be awfully happy." + +"I know you do, and I think I shall be." + +"Then that is right. _Twelve he marries_. Wasn't it sweet of the +marguerite daisy to give Mr. Rochester just the right petal at the +end; wasn't it luck?" + +"Yes; but hush, don't talk so loud." + +Mr. Rochester now changed his seat, and came opposite to where Lady +Helen and the child had placed themselves. He did not talk to Lady +Helen, but he looked at her several times. Presently he took one of +Sibyl's hands, and stroked it fondly. + +"Does Lady Helen tell you beautiful stories too?" asked Sibyl, +suddenly. + +"No," he answered; "she is quite naughty about that. She never tells +me the charming stories she tells you." + +"You ought to," said Sibyl, looking at her earnestly; "it would do him +good. It's an awfully nice way, if you want to give a person a home +truth, to put it into a story. Nurse told me about that, and I +remembered it ever since. She used to put her home truths into +proverbs when I was quite young, such as, 'A burnt child dreads the +fire,' or 'Marry in haste, repent at leisure,' or----" + +"Oh, that will do, Sibyl." Lady Helen spoke; there was almost a +piteous appeal in the words. + +"Well," said Sibyl, "perhaps it is better to put home truths into +stories, not proverbs. It's like having more sugar. The 'home truth' +is the pill, and when it is sugared all over you can swallow it. You +can't swallow it _without_ the sugar, can you? Nursie begins her +stories like this: 'Miss Sibyl, once upon a time I knew a little +girl,' and then she tells me all about a horrid girl, and I know the +horrid girl is me. I am incited, of course, but very, very soon I get +down to the pill. Now, I am sure, Mr. Rochester, there are some things +you ought to be told, there are some things you do wrong, aren't +there, Mr. Rochester?" + +"Oh, Sibyl, do stop that ceaseless chatter," cried her mother from the +other end of the carriage; "you talk the most utter nonsense," and +Sibyl for once was effectually silenced. + +The party broke up at Victoria Station, and Mrs. Ogilvie and her +little daughter drove home. As soon as ever they arrived there Watson +informed Mrs. Ogilvie that Mr. Acland was waiting to see her in the +library. + +"Tiresome man!" she muttered, but she went to see him at once. The +electric light was on; the room reminded her uncomfortably of her +husband. He spent a great deal of time in his library, more than a +very happy married man would have done. She had often found him there +with a perplexed brow, and a heart full of anxiety. She had found him +there, too, in his rare moments of exultation and happiness. She would +have preferred to see the lawyer in any room but this. + +"Well," she said, "why did you send me that ridiculous telegram?" + +"You would not be surprised if you had read the article which appeared +to-day in _The Financial Enquirer_." + +"I have never heard of _The Financial Enquirer_." + +"But City men know it," replied Mr. Acland, "and to a great extent it +governs the market. It is one of our leading financial papers. The +rumors it alludes to may be untrue, but they will influence the +subscriptions made by the public to the share capital. In fact, with +so ominous an article coming from so first-rate a source, nothing but +a splendid report from Ogilvie can save the mine." + +Mrs. Ogilvie drummed with her delicate taper fingers on the nearest +table. + +"How you puzzle a poor woman with your business terms," she said. +"What do I know about mines? When my husband left me he said that he +would come back a rich man. He gave me his promise, he must keep his +word." + +"He will naturally keep his word if he can, and if the mine is all +that Lord Grayleigh anticipates everything will be right," replied +Acland. "There is no man more respected than Ogilvie in the City. His +report as assayer will save the situation; that is, if it is +first-rate. But if it is a medium report the capital will not be +sufficiently subscribed to, and if the report happens to be bad the +whole thing will fall through. We shall know soon now." + +"This is very disturbing," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "I have had a long, +tiring day, and you give me a headache. When is my husband's report +likely to reach England?" + +"Not for several weeks, of course. It ought to be here in about two +months' time, but we may have a cablegram almost any day. The public +are just in a waiting attitude, they want to invest their money. If +the mine turns out a good thing shares will be subscribed to any +extent. Everything depends on Ogilvie's report." + +"Won't you stay and have some supper?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, carelessly. +"I have said already that I do not understand these things." + +"I cannot stay, I came to see you because it is important. I want to +know if you really wish to go on with the purchase of Silverbel. I am +ready to pay a deposit for you of L2,000 on the price of the estate, +which will, of course, clinch the purchase, and this deposit I have +arranged to pay to-morrow, but under the circumstances would it not be +best to delay? If your husband cannot give a good report of the mine +he will not want to buy an expensive place like Silverbel. My advice +to you, Mrs. Ogilvie, is to let Silverbel go. I happen to know at this +moment of another purchaser who is only waiting to close if you +decline. When your husband comes back rich you can easily buy another +place." + +"No other place will suit me except Silverbel," she answered. + +"I strongly recommend you not to buy it now." + +"And I intend to have it. I am going down there to live next week. Of +course, you arranged that I could go in at once after the deposit was +paid?" + +"Yes, on sufferance, subject to your completing the purchase in +October." + +"Then pray don't let the matter be disturbed again. I shall order +furniture immediately. You are quite a raven, a croaker of bad news, +Mr. Acland." + +Mr. Acland raised his hand in deprecation. + +"I thought it only fair to tell you," he answered, and the next moment +he left the house. As he did so, he uttered a solitary remark: + +"What a fool that woman is! I pity Ogilvie." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +It was the last week in July when Mrs. Ogilvie took possession of +Silverbel. She had ordered furniture in her usual reckless fashion, +going to the different shops where she knew she could obtain credit. +The house, already beautiful, looked quite lovely when decorated by +the skilful hands which arranged draperies and put furniture into the +most advantageous positions. + +Sibyl's room, just over the front porch, was really worthy of her. It +was a bower of whiteness and innocence. It had lattice windows which +looked out on to the lovely grounds. Climbing roses peeped in through +the narrow panes, and sent their sweet fragrance to greet the child +when the windows were open and she put her head out. + +Sibyl thought more than ever of her father as she took possession of +the lovely room at Silverbel. What a beautiful world it was! and what +a happy little girl she, Sibyl, thought herself in possessing such +perfect parents. Her prayers became now passionate thanks. She had got +so much that it seemed unkind to ask Lord Jesus for one thing more. Of +course, He was making the mine full of gold, and He was making her +father very, very rich, and everyone, everyone she knew was soon to be +happy. + +Lady Helen Douglas came to stay at Silverbel, and this seemed to give +an added touch to the child's sense of enjoyment, for Lady Helen had +at last, in a shy half whisper, told the eager little listener that +she did love Mr. Rochester, and, further, that they were only waiting +to proclaim their engagement to the world until the happy time when +Sibyl's father came back. + +"For Jim," continued Lady Helen, "will take shares in the Lombard +Deeps, and as soon as ever he does this we can afford to marry. But +you must not speak of this, Sibyl. I have only confided in you because +you have been our very good friend all along." + +Sibyl longed to write off at once to her father to hurry up matters +with regard to the gold mine. + +"Of course, it is full of gold, quite full," thought the child; "but I +hope father will write, or, better still, come home quickly and tell +us all about it." + +She began to count the days now to her father's return, and was +altogether in such a happy mood that it was delightful to be in her +presence or to see her joyful face. + +Sibyl was nearly beside herself with delight at having exchanged her +dull town life for this happy country one. She quickly made friends +with the poor people in the nearest village, who were all attracted by +her bright ways and pretty face. Her mother also gave her a small part +of the garden to do what she liked with, and when she was not digging +industriously, or riding her pony, or talking to Lady Helen, or +engaged in her lessons, she followed her mother about like a faithful +little dog. + +Mrs. Ogilvie was so pleased and contented with her purchase that she +was wonderfully amiable. She often now sat in the long evenings with +Sibyl by her side, and listened without impatience to the child's +rhapsodies about her father. Mrs. Ogilvie would also be glad when +Philip returned. But just now her thought of all thoughts was centred +on the bazaar. This bazaar was to clinch her position as a country +lady. All the neighbors round were expected to attend, and already she +was busy drawing up programmes of the coming festivities, and +arranging with a great firm in London for the special marquee, which +was to grace her lawn right down to the river's edge. + +The bazaar was expected to last for quite three days, and, during that +time, a spirited band would play, and there would be various +entertainments of all sorts and descriptions. Little boats, with +colored flags and awnings, were to be in requisition on the brink of +the river, and people should pay heavily for the privilege of +occupying these boats. + +Mrs. Ogilvie clapped her hands almost childishly when this last +brilliant idea came to her, and Sibyl thought that it was worthy of +mother, and entered into the scheme with childish enthusiasm. + +The third week in August was finally decided as the best week for the +bazaar, and those friends who were not going abroad promised to stay +at Silverbel for the occasion. + +Some weeks after Mrs. Ogilvie had taken possession of Silverbel, Mr. +Acland called to see her. + +"We have had no cable yet from your husband," he said, "and the rumors +continue to be ominous. I wish with all my heart we could silence +them. I, myself, believe in the Lombard Deeps, for Grayleigh is the +last man to lend his name or become chairman of a company which has +not brilliant prospects; but I can see that even he is a little +anxious." + +"Oh, pray don't croak," was Mrs. Ogilvie's response and then she once +again likened Mr. Acland to the raven. + +"You are a bird of ill-omen," she said, shaking her finger playfully +in his face. + +He frowned as she addressed him; he could not see the witticism of her +remark. + +"When people are perfectly happy and know nothing whatever with +regard to business, what is the good of coming and telling these +dismalities?" she continued. "I am nothing but a poor little feminine +creature, trying to do good, and to make myself happy in an innocent +way. Why will you come and croak? I know Philip quite well enough to +be certain that he would not have set foot on this expedition if he +had not been satisfied in advance that the mine was a good one." + +"That is my own impression," said Mr. Acland, thoughtfully; "but don't +forget you are expected to complete the purchase of Silverbel by the +end of October." + +"Oh! Philip will be back before then," answered Mrs. Ogilvie in a +light and cheerful tone. "Any day now we may get a cablegram. Well, +sweetheart, and what are you doing here?" + +Sibyl had entered the room, and was leaning against the window frame. + +"Any day we may expect what to happen, mother darling?" she asked. + +"We may expect a cable from father to say he is coming back again." + +"Oh! do you think so? Oh, I am so happy!" + +Sibyl skipped lightly out of the room. She ran across the sunny, +radiant garden, and presently found herself in a sort of wilderness +which she had appropriated, and where she played at all sorts of +solitary games. In that wilderness she imagined herself at times a +lonely traveler, at other times a merchant carrying goodly pearls, at +other times a bandit engaged in feats of plunder. All possible scenes +in history or imagination that she understood did the child try to +enact in the wilderness. But she went there now with no intention of +posing in any imaginary part. She went there because her heart was +full. + +"Oh, Lord Jesus, it is so beautiful of you," she said, and she looked +up as she spoke full at the blue sky. "I can scarcely believe that my +ownest father will very soon be back again; it is quite too +beautiful." + +A few days after this, and toward the end of the first week in August, +Sibyl was one day playing as usual in the grounds when the sound of +carriage wheels attracted her attention. She ran down to see who was +arriving, and a shout of delight came from her when she saw Lord +Grayleigh coming down the drive. He called the coachman to stop and +put out his head. + +"Jump into the carriage, Sib, I have not seen you for some time. When +are you going to pay me another visit at Grayleigh Manor?" + +"Oh, some time, but not at present," replied Sibyl. "I am too happy +with mother here to think of going away. Isn't Silverbel sweet, Lord +Grayleigh?" + +"Charming," replied Grayleigh. "Is your mother in, little woman?" + +"I think so. She is very incited about the bazaar. Are you coming to +the bazaar?" + +"I don't know, I will tell you presently." + +Sibyl laid her little hand in Lord Grayleigh's. He gave it a squeeze, +and she clasped it confidingly. + +"Do you know that I am so monstrous happy I scarcely know what to do," +she said. + +"Because you have got a pretty new place?" + +"No, no, nothing of that sort. It's 'cos father is coming back afore +long! He will cable, whatever that means, and soon afterward he'll +come. I'm always thanking Lord Jesus about it. Isn't it good of Him to +send my ownest father back so soon?" + +Lord Grayleigh made no answer, unless an uneasy movement of his feet +signified a sense of discomfort. The carriage drew up at the porch and +he alighted. Sibyl skipped out after him. + +[Illustration: "Shall I find mother for you?" asked Sibyl, leading +Lord Grayleigh across the lawn.--Page 208. _Daddy's Girl_.] + +"Shall I find mother for you?" she said. "Oh, there she is on the +lawn. Darlingest mother, she can think of nothing at present but the +bazaar, when all the big-wigs are to be present. You're a big-wig, +aren't you? I asked nurse what big-wigs were, and she said people with +handles. Mother said they were people in a _good social position_. +I remember the words so well 'cos I couldn't understand 'em, but when +I asked Miss Winstead to 'splain, she said mother meant ladies and +gentlemen, and when I asked her to tell me what ladies and gentlemen +was, she said people who behaved nicely. Now isn't it all very +puzzling, 'cos the person who I think behaves nicest of all is our +footman, Watson. He has lovely manners and splendid impulses; and +perhaps the next nicest is dear Mrs. Holman, and she keeps a toy-shop +in a back street. But when I asked mother if Watson and Mrs. Holman +were big-wigs, she said I spoked awful nonsense. What do you think, +Lord Grayleigh? Please do try to 'splain." + +Lord Grayleigh had laughed during Sibyl's long speech. He now laid his +hand on her arm. + +"A big-wig is quite an ugly word," he said, "but a lady or a +gentleman, you will find them in all ranks of life." + +"You haven't 'splained a bit," said the little girl. "Mother wants +big-wigs at her bazaar; you are one, so will you come?" + +"I will answer that question after I have seen your mother." + +Lord Grayleigh crossed the lawn, and Sibyl, feeling dissatisfied, +turned away. + +"He doesn't look quite happy," she thought; "I'm sorry he is coming +to take up mother's time. Mother promised, and it's most 'portant, to +ride with me this evening. It's on account of poor Dan Scott it is so +'portant. Oh, I do hope she won't forget. Perhaps Miss Winstead would +come if mother can't. I promised poor Dan a basket of apples, and also +that I'd go and sit with him, and mother said he should cert'nly have +the apples, and that she and I would ride over with them. He broke his +arm a week ago, poor fellow! poor little Dan! I'll go and find Miss +Winstead. If mother can't come, she must." + +Sibyl ran off in search of her governess, and Lord Grayleigh and Mrs. +Ogilvie, in deep conversation, paced up and down the lawn. + +"You didn't hear by the last mail?" was Lord Grayleigh's query. + +"No, I have not heard for two mails. I cannot account for his +silence." + +"He is probably up country," was Lord Grayleigh's answer. "I thought +before cabling that I would come and inquire of you." + +"I have not heard," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "Of course things are all +right, and Philip was never much of a correspondent. It probably +means, Lord Grayleigh, that he has completed his report, and is coming +back. I shall be glad, for I want him to be here some time before +October, in order to see about paying the rest of the money for our +new place. What do you think of Silverbel?" + +"Oh, quite charming," said Lord Grayleigh, in that kind of tone which +clearly implied that he was not thinking about his answer. + +"I am anxious, of course, to complete the purchase," continued Mrs. +Ogilvie. + +"Indeed!" Lord Grayleigh raised his brows. + +"Mr. Acland lent me two thousand pounds to pay the deposit," continued +the lady, "but we must complete by the end of October. When my husband +comes back rich, he will be able to do so. He will come back rich, +won't he?" Here she looked up appealingly at Lord Grayleigh. + +"He will come back rich, or we shall have the deluge," he replied, +oracularly. "Don't be uneasy. As you have not heard I shall cable. I +shall wire to Brisbane, which I fancy is his headquarters." + +"Perhaps," answered Mrs. Ogilvie, in an abstracted tone. "By the way, +if you are going back to town, may I make use of your carriage? There +are several things I want to order for my bazaar. It is to be in about +a fortnight now. You will remember that you are one of the patrons." + +"Certainly," he answered; "at what date is the bazaar to be held?" + +She named the arranged date, and he entered it in a gold-mounted +engagement book. + +"I shall stay in town to-night," continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "Just wait +for me a moment, and I will get on my hat." + +Soon afterward the two were driving back to the railway station. Mrs. +Ogilvie had forgotten all about her engagement to Sibyl. Sibyl saw her +go off with a feeling of deep disappointment, for Miss Winstead had a +headache, and declined to ride with the little girl. Dan Scott must +wait in vain for his apples. But should he wait? Sibyl wondered. + +She went down in a discontented way to a distant part of the grounds. +She was not feeling at all happy now. It was all very well to have a +heart bubbling over with good-nature and kindly impulses; but when +those impulses were flung back on herself, then the little girl felt +that latent naughtiness which was certainly an integral part of her +character. She saw Dan Scott's old grandfather digging weeds in the +back garden. Dan Scott was one of the gardener's boys. He was a +bright, cheery-faced little fellow, with sloe-black eyes and +tight-curling hair, and a winsome smile and white teeth. Sibyl had +made friends with him at once, and when he ceased to appear on the +scenes a week back, she was full of consternation, for Dan had fallen +from a tree, and broken his arm rather badly. He had been feverish +also, and could not come to attend to his usual work. His old +grandfather had at first rated the lad for having got into this +trouble, but then he had pitied him. + +Sibyl the day before had promised old Scott that she and her mother +would ride to Dan's cottage and present him with a basket of early +apples. There were some ripening now on the trees, long in shape, +golden in color, and full of delicious juice. + +Sibyl had investigated these apples on her own account, and pronounced +them very good, and had thought that a basket of the fruit would +delight Dan. She had spoken to her mother on the subject, and her +mother, in the height of good-humor, had promised that the apples +should be gathered, and the little girl and she would ride down a +lovely country lane to Dan's cottage. They were to start about six +o'clock, would ride under the shade of some spreading beech trees, and +come back in the cool of the evening. + +The whole plan was delightful, and Sibyl had been thinking about it +all day. Now her mother had gone off to town, and most clearly had +forgotten her promise to the child. + +"Well, Missy," said old Scott as he dug his spade deep down into the +soil; "don't stand just there, Missy, you'll get the earth all over +you." + +Sibyl moved to a respectful distance. + +"How is Dan?" she asked, after a pause. + +"A-wrastling with his pain," answered Scott, a frown coming between +his brows. + +"Is he expecting me and mother with the beautiful apples?" asked +Sibyl, in a somewhat anxious tone. + +"Is he expecting you, Missy?" answered the old man, raising his +beetling brows and fixing his black eyes on the child. "Is he +a-counting the hours? Do ducks swim, Missy, and do little sick boys +a-smothered up in bed in small close rooms want apples and little +ladies to visit 'em or not? You said you'd go, Missy, and Dan he's +counting the minutes." + +"Of course I'll go," replied Sibyl, but she looked anxious and +_distrait_. Then she added, "I will go if I possibly can." + +"I didn't know there was any doubt about it, Missy, and I tell you Dan +is counting the minutes. Last thing he said afore I went out this +morning was, 'I'll see little Missy to-day, and she is to bring me a +basket of apples.' Seems to me he thinks a sight more of you than the +fruit." + +Sibyl turned pale as Scott continued to speak in an impressive voice. + +"Dear, dear, it is quite dreadful," she said, "I could cry about it, I +could really, truly." + +"But why, Missy? What's up? I don't like to see a little lady like you +a-fretting." + +"Mr. Scott, I'm awfully, awfully sorry; I am terribly afraid I can't +go." + +Old Scott ceased to delve the ground. He leant on the top of his spade +and looked full at the child. His sunken eyes seemed to burn into +hers. + +"You promised you'd go," he said then slowly. + +"I did, I certainly did, but mother was to have gone with me, and she +has had to go to town about the bazaar. I suppose you couldn't take +back the apples with you when you go home to-night, Mr. Scott?" + +"I could not," answered the old man. He began to dig with lusty and, +in the child's opinion, almost venomous vigor. + +"Besides," he added, "it wouldn't be the same. It's you he wants to +see as much as the fruit. If I was a little lady I'd keep my word to +the poor. It's a dangerous thing to break your word to the poor; +there's God's curse on them as do." + +Sibyl seemed to shrink into herself. She looked up at the sky. + +"Lord Jesus wouldn't curse a little girl like me, a little girl who +loves Him," she thought; but, all the same, the old man's words +seemed to chill her. + +"I'll do my very best," she said, and she went slowly across the +garden. Old Scott called after her: + +"I wouldn't disappoint the little lad if I was you, Missy. He's +a-counting of the minutes." + +A clock in the stable yard struck five. Old Scott continued to watch +Sibyl as she walked away. + +"I could take the apples," he said to himself; "I could if I had a +mind to, but I don't see why the quality shouldn't keep their word, +and I'm due to speak at the Mission Hall this evening. Little Miss +should know afore she makes promises. She's a rare fine little 'un, +though, for all that. I never see a straighter face, eyes that could +look through you. Dear little Missy! Dan thinks a precious sight of +her. I expect somehow she'll take him the apples." + +So old Scott went on murmuring to himself, sometimes breaking off to +sing a song, and Sibyl returned to the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +She walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the ground. She was thinking +harder than she had ever thought before in the whole course of her +short life. When she reached the parting of the ways which led in one +direction to the sunny, pretty front entrance, and in the other to the +stables, she paused again to consider. + +Miss Winstead was standing in the new schoolroom window. It was a +lovely room, furnished with just as much taste as Sibyl's own bedroom. +Miss Winstead put her head out, and called the child. + +"Tea is ready, you had better come in. What are you doing there?" + +"Is your head any better?" asked Sibyl, a ghost of a hope stealing +into her voice. + +"No, I am sorry to say it is much worse. I am going to my room to lie +down. Nurse will give you your tea." + +Sibyl did not make any answer. Miss Winstead, supposing that she was +going into the house, went to her own room. She locked her door, lay +down on her bed, and applied aromatic vinegar to her forehead. + +Sibyl turned in the direction of the stables. + +"It don't matter about my tea," she said to herself. "Nursie will +think I am with Miss Winstead, and Miss Winstead will think I am with +nurse; it's all right. I wonder if Ben would ride mother's horse with +me; but the first thing is to get the apples." + +The thought of what she was about to do, and how she would coax Ben, +the stable boy, to ride with her cheered her a little. + +"It's awful to neglect the poor," she said to herself. "Old Scott was +very solemn. He's a good man, is Scott, he's a very religious man, he +knows his Bible beautiful. He does everything by the Psalms; it's +wonderful what he finds in them--the weather and everything else. I +asked him before the storm came yesterday if we was going to have +rain, and he said 'Read your Psalms and you'll know. Don't the Psalms +for the day say "the Lord of glory thundereth"?' and he looked at a +black cloud that was coming up in the sky, and sure enough we had a +big thunderstorm. It's wonderful what a religious man is old Scott, +and what a lot he knows. He wouldn't say a thing if it wasn't true. I +suppose God does curse those who neglect the poor. I shouldn't like to +be cursed, and I did promise, and Dan _will_ be waiting and watching. +A little girl whom Jesus loves ought to keep her promise. Well, +anyhow, I'll get the apples ready." + +Sibyl rushed into the house by a side entrance, secured a basket and +entered the orchard. There she made a careful and wise selection. She +filled the basket with the golden green fruit, and arranged it +artistically with apple-leaves. + +"This will tempt dear little Dan," she said to herself. There were a +few greengages just beginning to come to perfection on a tree near. +Sibyl picked several to add to her pile of tempting fruit, and then +she went in the direction of the stables. Ben was nowhere about. She +called his name, he did not answer. He was generally to be found in +the yard at this hour. It was more than provoking. + +"Ben! Ben! Ben!" called the child. Her clear voice sounded through the +empty air. There came a gentle whinny in response. + +"Oh, my darling Nameless Pony!" she thought. She burst open the stable +door, and the next instant stood in the loose box beside the pony. The +creature knew her and loved her. He pushed out his head and begged for +a caress. Sibyl selected the smallest apple from the basket and gave +it to her pony. The nameless pony munched with right good will. + +"I could ride him alone," thought Sibyl; "it is only two or three +miles away, and I know the road, and mother, though she may be angry +when she hears, will soon forgive me. Mother never keeps angry very +long--that is one of the beautiful things about her. I do really +think I will go by my lone self. I made a promise. Mother made a +promise too, but then she forgets. I really do think I'll go. It's too +awful to remember your promise to the poor, and then to break it. I +wonder if I could saddle pony? Pony, darling, will you stay very quiet +while I try to put your saddle on? I have seen Ben do it so often, and +one day I coaxed him to let me help him." + +Just then a voice at the stable door said-- + +"Hullo! I say!" and Sibyl, starting violently, turned her head and saw +a rough-headed lad of the name of Johnson, who sometimes assisted old +Scott in the garden. Sibyl was not very fond of Johnson. She took an +interest in him, of course, as she did in all human beings, but he was +not fascinating like little Dan Scott, and he had not a religious way +with him like old Scott; nevertheless, she was glad to see him now. + +"Oh, Johnson," she said eagerly, "I want you to do something for me so +badly. If you will do it I will give you an apple." + +"What is it, Miss?" asked Johnson. + +"Will you saddle my pony for me? You can, can't you?" + +"I guess I can," answered Johnson. He spoke laconically. + +"Want to ride?" he said. "Who's a-goin' with yer?" + +"No one, I am going alone." + +Johnson made no remark. He looked at the basket of apples. + +"I say," he cried, "them's good, I like apples." + +"You shall have two, Johnson; oh, and I have a penny in my pocket as +well. Now please saddle the pony very fast, for I want to be off." + +Johnson did not see anything remarkable in Sibyl's intended ride. He +knew nothing about little Missy. As far as his knowledge went it was +quite the habit for little ladies to ride by themselves. Of course he +would get the pony ready for her, so he lifted down the pretty new +side-saddle from its place on the wall, and arranged it on the forest +pony's back. The pony turned his large gentle eyes, and looked from +Johnson to the child. + +"It don't matter about putting on my habit," said Sibyl. "It will take +such a lot of time, I can go just as I am, can't I, Johnson?" + +"If you like, Miss," answered Johnson. + +"I think I will, really, Johnson," said Sibyl in that confiding way +which fascinated all mankind, and made rough-headed Johnson her slave +for ever. + +"I might be caught, you know, if I went back to the house." + +"Oh, is that it?" answered Johnson. + +"Yes, that's it; they don't understand. No one understands in the +house how 'portant it is for me to go. I have to take the apples to +Dan Scott. I promised, you know, and it would not be right to break my +promise, would it, Johnson?" + +Johnson scratched his head. + +"I guess not!" he said. + +"If I don't take them, he'll fret and fret," said Sibyl; "and he'll +never trust me again; and the curse of God is on them that neglect the +poor. Isn't it so, Johnson? You understand, don't you?" + +"A bit, perhaps, Missy." + +"Well, I am very much obliged to you," said the little girl. "Here's +two apples, real beauties, and here's my new penny. Now, please lead +pony out, and help me to mount him." + +Johnson did so. The hoofs of the forest pony clattered loudly on the +cobble stones of the yard. Johnson led the pony to the entrance of a +green lane which ran at the back of Silverbel. Here the little girl +mounted. She jumped lightly into her seat. She was like a feather on +the back of the forest pony. Johnson arranged her skirts according to +her satisfaction, and, with her long legs dangling, her head erect, +and the reins in her hands, she started forward. The basket was +securely fastened; and the pony, well pleased at having a little +exercise, for he had been in his stable for nearly two days, started +off at a gentle canter. + +Sibyl soon left Silverbel behind her. She cantered down the pretty +country road, enjoying herself vastly. + +"I am so glad I did it," she thought; "it was brave of me. I will tell +my ownest father when he comes back. I'll tell him there was no one to +go with me, and I had to do it in order to keep my promise, and he'll +understand. I'll have to tell darling mother, too, to-night. She'll be +angry, for mother thinks it is good for me to bear the yoke in my +youth, and she'll be vexed with me for going alone, but I know she'll +forgive me afterward. Perhaps she'll say afterward, 'I'm sorry I +forgot, but you did right, Sibyl, you did right.' I am doing right, +aren't I, Lord Jesus?" and again she raised her eyes, confident and +happy, to the evening sky. + +The heat of the day was going over; it was now long past six o'clock. +Presently she reached the small cottage where the sick boy lived. She +there reined in her pony, and called aloud: + +"Are you in, Mrs. Scott?" + +A peevish-looking old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with a +large frill falling round her face, appeared in the rose-covered porch +of the tiny cottage. + +"Ah! it's you, Missy, at last," she said, and she trotted down as well +as her lameness would let her to the gate. "Has you brought the +apples?" she cried. "You are very late, Missy. Oh, I'm obligated, of +course, and I thank you heartily, Miss. Will you wait for the basket, +or shall I send it by Scott to-morrow?" + +"You can send it to-morrow, please," answered Sibyl. + +"And you ain't a-coming in? The lad's expecting you." + +"I am afraid I cannot, not to-night. Mother wasn't able to come with +me. Tell Dan that I brought him his apples, and I'll come and see him +to-morrow if I possibly can. Tell him I won't make him an out-and-out +promise, 'cos if you make a promise to the poor and don't keep it, +Lord Jesus is angry, and you get cursed. I don't quite know what +cursed means, do you, Mrs. Scott?" + +[Illustration: An old woman wearing a bedgown, and with a cap with a +large frill, appeared in the porch of the tiny cottage.--Page 224. +_Daddy's Girl_.] + +"Oh, don't I," answered Mrs. Scott. "It's a pity you can't come in, +Missy. There, Danny, keep quiet; the little lady ain't no time to be +a-visiting of you. That's him calling out, Missy; you wait a +minute, and I'll find out what he wants." + +Mrs. Scott hobbled back to the house, and the pony chafed restlessly +at the delay. + +"Quiet, darling; quiet, pet," said Sibyl to her favorite, patting him +on his arched neck. + +Presently Mrs. Scott came back. + +"Dan's obligated for the apples, Miss, but he thinks a sight more of a +talk with you than of any apples that ever growed. He 'opes you'll +come another day." + +"I wish, I do wish I could come in now," said Sibyl wistfully; "but I +just daren't. You see, I have not even my riding habit on, I was so +afraid someone would stop me from coming at all. Give Danny my love. +But you have not told me yet what a curse means, Mrs. Scott." + +"Oh, that," answered Mrs. Scott, "but you ain't no call to know." + +"But I'd like to. I hate hearing things without understanding. What is +a curse, Mrs. Scott?" + +"There are all sorts," replied Mrs. Scott. "Once I knowed a man, and +he had a curse on him, and he dwindled and dwindled, and got smaller +and thinner and poorer, until nothing would nourish him, no food nor +drink nor nothing, and he shrunk up ter'ble until he died. It's my +belief he haunts the churchyard now. No one likes to go there in the +evening. The name of the man was Micah Sorrel. He was the most ter'ble +example of a curse I ever comed acrost in my life." + +"Well, I really must be going now," said Sibyl with a little shiver. +"Good-by; tell Dan I'll try hard to come and see him to-morrow." + +She turned the pony's head and cantered down the lane. She did not +consider Mrs. Scott a specially nice old woman. + +"She's a gloomy sort," thought the child, "she takes a gloomy view. I +like people who don't take gloomy views best. Perhaps she is something +like old Scott; having lived with him so long as his wife, perhaps +they have got to think things the same way. Old Scott looked very +solemn when he said that it was a terrible thing to have the curse of +the poor. I wonder what Micah Sorrel did. I am sorry she told me about +him, I don't like the story. But there, why should I blame Mrs. Scott, +for I asked her to 'splain what a curse was. I 'spect I'm a very queer +girl, and I didn't really keep my whole word. I said positive and +plain that I would take a basket of apples to Dan, and go and sit with +him. I did take the apples, but I didn't go in and sit with him. Oh, +dear, I'll have to go back by the churchyard. I hope Micah Sorrel +won't be about. I shouldn't like to see him, he must be shrunk up so +awful by now. Come along, pony darling, we'll soon be back home +again." + +Sibyl lightly touched the pony's ears with a tiny whip which Lord +Grayleigh had given her. He whisked his head indignantly at the motion +and broke into a trot, the trot became a canter, and the canter a +gallop. + +Sibyl laughed aloud in her enjoyment. They were now close to the +churchyard. The sun was getting near the horizon, but still there was +plenty of light. + +"A little faster, as we are passing the churchyard, pony pet," said +Sybil, and she bent towards her steed and again touched him, nothing +more than a feather touch, on his arched neck. But pony was spirited, +and had endured too much stabling, and was panting for exercise; and, +just at that moment, turning abruptly round a corner came a man waving +a red flag. He was followed by a procession of school children, all +shouting and racing. The churchyard was in full view. + +Sibyl laughed with a sense of relief when she saw the procession. +She would not be alone as she passed the churchyard, and doubtless +Micah Sorrel would be all too wise to make his appearance, but the +next instant she gave a cry of alarm, for the pony first swerved +violently, and then rushed off at full gallop. The red flag had +startled him, and the children's shouts were the final straw. + +"Not quite so fast, darling," cried Sibyl; "a little slower, pet." + +But pet and darling was past all remonstrances on the part of his +little mistress. He flew on, having clearly made up his mind to run +away from the red flag and the shouting children to the other end of +the earth. In vain Sibyl jerked the reins and pulled and pulled. Her +small face was white as death; her little arms seemed almost wrenched +from their sockets. She kept her seat bravely. Someone driving a +dog-cart was coming to meet her. A voice called-- + +"Hullo! Stop, for goodness' sake; don't turn the corner. Stop! Stop!" + +Sibyl heard the voice. She looked wildly ahead. She had no more power +to stop the nameless pony than the earth has power to pause as it +turns on its axis. The next instant the corner was reached; all seemed +safe, when, with a sudden movement, the pony dashed madly forward, and +Sibyl felt herself falling, she did not know where. There was an +instant of intense and violent pain, stars shone before her eyes, and +then everything was lost in blessed unconsciousness. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +On a certain morning in the middle of July the _Gaika_ with Ogilvie on +board entered the Brisbane River. He had risen early, as was his +custom, and was now standing on deck. The lascars were still busy +washing the deck. He went past them, and leaning over the taffrail +watched the banks of low-lying mangroves which grew on either side of +the river. The sun had just risen, and transformed the scene. Ogilvie +raised his hat, and pushed the hair from his brow. His face had +considerably altered, it looked worn and old. His physical health had +not improved, notwithstanding the supposed benefit of a long sea +voyage. + +A man whose friendship he had made on board, and whose name was +Harding, came up just then, and spoke to him. + +"Well, Ogilvie," he cried, "we part very soon, but I trust we may meet +again. I shall be returning to England in about three months from now. +When do you propose to go back?" + +"I cannot quite tell," answered Ogilvie. "It depends on how soon my +work is over; the sooner the better, as far as I am concerned." + +"You don't look too well," said his friend. "Can I get anything for +you, fetch your letters, or anything of that sort?" + +"I do not expect letters," was Ogilvie's answer; "there may be one or +two cables. I shall find out at the hotel." + +Harding said something further. Ogilvie replied in an abstracted +manner. He was thinking of Sibyl. It seemed to him that the little +figure was near him, and the little spirit strangely in touch with his +own. Of all people in the world she was the one he cared least to give +his thoughts to just at that moment. + +"And yet I am doing it for her," he muttered to himself. "I must go +through with it; but while I am about it I want to forget her. My work +lies before me--that dastardly work which is to stain my character and +blemish my honor; but there is no going back now. Sibyl was unprovided +for, and I have an affection of the heart which may end my days at any +moment. For her sake I had no other course open to me. Now I shall not +allow my conscience to speak again." + +He made an effort to pull himself together, and as the big liner +gradually neared the quay, he spoke in cheerful tones to his +fellow-passengers. Just as he passed down the gangway, and landed on +the quay, he heard a voice exclaim suddenly-- + +"Mr. Ogilvie, I believe?" + +He turned, and saw a small, dapper-looking man, in white drill and a +cabbage-tree hat, standing by his side. + +"That is my name," replied Ogilvie; "and yours?" + +"I am Messrs. Spielmann's agent, and my name is Rycroft. I had +instructions to meet you, and guessed who you were from the +description given to me. I hope you had a good voyage." + +"Pretty well," answered Ogilvie; "but I must get my luggage together. +Where are you staying?" + +"At the Waharoo Hotel. I took the liberty to book you a room. Shall we +go up soon and discuss business; we have no time to lose?" + +"As you please," said Ogilvie. "Will you wait here? I will return +soon." + +Within half an hour the two men were driving in the direction of the +hotel. Rycroft had engaged a bedroom and private sitting-room for +Ogilvie. He ordered lunch, and, after they had eaten, suggested that +they should plunge at once into business. + +"That is quite to my desire," said Ogilvie. "I want to get what is +necessary through, in order to return home as soon as possible. It was +inconvenient my leaving England just now, but Lord Grayleigh made it a +condition that I should not delay an hour in examining the mine." + +"If he wishes to take up this claim, he is right," answered Rycroft, +in a grave voice. "I may as well say at once, Mr. Ogilvie, that your +coming out is the greatest possible relief to us all. The syndicate +ought to do well, and your name on the report is a guarantee of +success. My proposal is that we should discuss matters a little +to-day, and start early to-morrow by the _Townville_ to Rockhampton. +We can then go by rail to Grant's Creek Station, which is only eight +miles from the mine. There we can do our business, and finally return +here to draw up the report." + +"And how long will all this take?" asked Ogilvie. + +"If we are lucky, we ought to be back here within a month." + +"You have been over the mine, of course, yourself, Mr. Rycroft?" + +"Yes; I only returned to Brisbane a week ago." + +"And what is your personal opinion?" + +"There is, beyond doubt, alluvial gold. It is a bit refractory, but +the washings panned out from five to six ounces to the ton." + +"So I was told in England; but, about the vein underneath? Alluvial is +not dependable as a continuance. It is the vein we want to strike. +Have you bored?" + +"Yes, one shaft." + +"Any result?" + +"That is what your opinion is needed to decide," said his companion. +As Rycroft spoke, the corners of his mouth hardened, and he looked +fixedly at Ogilvie. He knew perfectly well why Ogilvie had come from +England to assay the mine, and this last question took him somewhat by +surprise. + +Ogilvie was silent. After a moment he jumped up impatiently. + +"I may as well inquire for any letters or cables that are waiting for +me," he said. + +Rycroft lit his pipe and went out. He had never seen Philip Ogilvie +before, and was surprised at his general appearance, and also at his +manner. + +"Why did they send him out?" he muttered. "Sensitive, and with a +conscience: not the sort of man to care to do dirty work; but perhaps +Grayleigh was right. If I am not much mistaken, he will do it all the +same." + +"I shall make my own pile out of this," he thought. He returned to the +hotel later on, and the two men spent the evening in anxious +consultation. The next day they started for Rockhampton, and late in +the afternoon of the fourth day reached their destination. + +The mine lay in a valley which had once been the bed of some +prehistoric river, but was now reduced to a tiny creek. On either +side towered the twin Lombard peaks, from which the mine was to take +its name. For a mile on either side of the creek the country was +fairly open, being dotted with clumps of briggalow throwing their dark +shadows across the plain. + +Beyond them, where the slope became steep, the dense scrub began. This +clothed the two lofty peaks to their summits. The spot was a +beautiful one, and up to the present had been scarcely desecrated by +the hand of man. + +"Here we are," said Rycroft, "here lies the gold." He pointed to the +bed of the creek. "Here is our overseer's hut, and he has engaged men +for our purpose. This is our hut, Ogilvie. I hope you don't mind +sharing it with me." + +"Not in the least," replied Ogilvie. "We shall not begin operations +until the morning, shall we? I should like to walk up the creek." + +Rycroft made a cheerful answer, and Ogilvie started off alone. He +scarcely knew why he wished to take this solitary walk, for he knew +well that the die was cast. When he had accepted Lord Grayleigh's +check for ten thousand pounds he had burnt his boats, and there was no +going back. + +"Time enough for repentance in another world," he muttered under his +breath. "All I have to do at present is to stifle thought. It ought +not to be difficult to go forward," he muttered, with a bitter smile, +"the downhill slope is never difficult." + +The work of boring was to commence on the following morning, and the +camp was made close to the water hole beneath some tall gum trees. +Rycroft, who was well used to camping, prepared supper for the two. +The foreman's camp was about a hundred yards distant. + +As Ogilvie lay down to sleep that night he had a brief, sharp attack +of the agony which had caused him alarm a couple of months ago. It +reminded him in forcible language that his own time on earth was in +all probability brief; but, far from feeling distressed on this +account, he hugged the knowledge to his heart that he had provided for +Sibyl, and that she at least would never want. During the night which +followed, however, he could not sleep. Spectre after spectre of his +past life rose up before him in the gloom. He saw now that ever since +his marriage the way had been paved for this final act of crime. The +extravagances which his wife had committed, and which he himself had +not put down with a firm hand, had led to further extravagances on his +part. They had lived from the first beyond their means. Money +difficulties had always dogged his footsteps, and now the only way +out was by a deed of sin which might ruin thousands. + +"But the child--the child!" he thought; something very like a sob rose +to his lips. Toward morning, however, he forced his thoughts into +other channels, drew his blanket tightly round him, and fell into a +long, deep sleep. + +When he awoke the foreman and his men were already busy. They began to +bore through the alluvial deposit in several directions, and Ogilvie +and Rycroft spent their entire time in directing these operations. It +would be over a fortnight's work at least before Ogilvie could come to +any absolute decision as to the true value of the mine. Day after day +went quickly by, and the more often he inspected the ore submitted to +him the more certain was Ogilvie that the supposed rich veins were a +myth. He said little as he performed his daily task, and Rycroft +watched his face with anxiety. + +Rycroft was a hard-headed man, troubled by no qualms of conscience, +anxious to enrich himself, and rather pleased than otherwise at the +thought of fooling thousands of speculators in many parts of the +world. The only thing that caused him fear was the possibility that +when the instant came, Ogilvie would not take the final leap. + +"Nevertheless, I believe he will," was Rycroft's final comment; +"men of his sort go down deeper and fall more desperately than +harder-headed fellows like myself. When a man has a conscience his +fall is worse, if he does fall, than if he had none. But why does a +man like Ogilvie undertake this sort of work? He must have a motive +hidden from any of us. Oh, he'll tumble safe enough when the moment +comes, but if he doesn't break his heart in that fall, I am much +mistaken in my man." + +Four shafts had been cut and levels driven in many directions with +disappointing results. It was soon all too plain that the ores were +practically valueless, though the commencement of each lode looked +fairly promising. + +After a little over a fortnight's hard work it was decided that it was +useless to proceed. + +"There is nothing more to be done, Mr. Ogilvie," said Rycroft, as the +two men sat over their supper together. "For six months the alluvial +will yield about six ounces to the ton. After that"--he paused and +looked full at the grim, silent face of the man opposite him. + +"After that?" said Ogilvie. He compressed his lips the moment he +uttered the words. + +Rycroft jerked his thumb significantly over his left shoulder by way +of answer. + +"You mean that we must see this butchery of the innocents through," +said Ogilvie. + +"I see no help for it," replied Rycroft. "We will start back to +Brisbane to-morrow, and when we get there draw up the report; I had +better attend to that part of the business, of course under your +superintendence. We must both sign it. But first had we not better +cable to Grayleigh? He must have expected to hear from us before now. +He can lay our cable before the directors, and then things can be put +in train; the report can follow by the first mail." + +"I shall take the report back with me," said Ogilvie. + +"Better not," answered his companion, "best trust Her Majesty's mails. +It might so happen that you would lose it." As Rycroft spoke a crafty +look came into his eyes. + +"Let us pack our traps," said Ogilvie, rising. + +"The sooner we get out of this the better." + +The next morning early they left the solitude, the neighborhood of the +lofty peaks and the desecrated earth beneath. They reached Brisbane in +about four days, and put up once more at the Waharoo Hotel. There the +real business for which all this preparation had been made commenced. +Rycroft was a past master in drawing up reports of mines, and Ogilvie +now helped him with a will. He found a strange pleasure in doing his +work as carefully as possible. He no longer suffered from qualms of +conscience. The mine would work really well for six months. During +that time the promoters would make their fortunes. Afterward--the +deluge. But that mattered very little to Ogilvie in his present state +of mind. + +"If I suffer as I have done lately from this troublesome heart of mine +I shall have gone to my account before six months," thought the man; +"the child will be provided for, and no one will ever know." + +The report was a plausible and highly colored one. + +It was lengthy in detail, and prophesied a brilliant future for +Lombard Deeps. Ogilvie and Rycroft, both assayers of knowledge and +experience, declared that they had carefully examined the lodes, that +they had struck four veins of rich ore yielding, after crushing, an +average of six ounces to the ton, and that the extent and richness of +the ore was practically unlimited. + +They spent several days over this document, and at last it was +finished. + +"I shall take the next mail home," said Ogilvie, standing up after he +had read his own words for the twentieth time. + +"Sign first," replied Rycroft. He pushed the paper across to Ogilvie. + +"Yes, I shall go to-morrow morning," continued Ogilvie. "The _Sahara_ +sails to-morrow at noon?" + +"I believe so; but sign, won't you?" + +Ogilvie took up his pen; he held it suspended as he looked again at +his companion. + +"I shall take a berth on board at once," he said. + +"All right, old chap, but sign first." + +Ogilvie was about to put his signature to the bottom of the document, +when suddenly, without the least warning, a strange giddiness, +followed by intolerable pain, seized him. It passed off, leaving him +very faint. He raised his hand to his brow and looked around him in a +dazed way. + +"What is wrong," asked Rycroft; "are you ill?" + +"I suffer from this sort of thing now and then," replied Ogilvie, +bringing out his words in short gasps. "Brandy, please." + +Rycroft sprang to a side table, poured out a glass of brandy, and +brought it to Ogilvie. + +"You look ghastly," he said; "drink." + +Ogilvie raised the stimulant to his lips. He took a few sips, and the +color returned to his face. + +"Now sign," said Rycroft again. + +"Where is the pen?" asked Ogilvie. + +He was all too anxious now to take the fatal plunge. His signature, +firm and bold, was put to the document. He pushed it from him and +stood up. Rycroft hastily added his beneath that of Ogilvie's. + +"Now our work is done," cried Rycroft, "and Her Majesty's mail does +the rest. By the way, I cabled a brilliant report an hour back. +Grayleigh seemed anxious. There have been ominous reports in some of +the London papers." + +"This will set matters right," said Ogilvie. "Put it in an envelope. +If I sail to-morrow, I may as well take it myself." + +"Her Majesty's mail would be best," answered Rycroft. "You can see +Grayleigh almost as soon as he gets the report. Remember, I am +responsible for it as well as you, and it would be best for it to go +in the ordinary way." As he spoke, he stretched out his hand, took the +document and folded it up. + +Just at this moment there came a tap at the door. Rycroft cried, "Come +in," and a messenger entered with a cablegram. + +"For Mr. Ogilvie," he said. + +"From Grayleigh, of course," said Rycroft, "how impatient he gets! +Wait outside," he continued to the messenger. + +The man withdrew, and Ogilvie slowly opened the telegram. Rycroft +watched him as he read. He read slowly, and with no apparent change of +feature. The message was short, but when his eyes had travelled to +the end, he read from the beginning right through again. Then, without +the slightest warning, and without even uttering a groan, the flimsy +paper fluttered from his hand, he tumbled forward, and lay in an +unconscious heap on the floor. + +Rycroft ran to him. He took a certain interest in Ogilvie, but above +all things on earth at that moment he wanted to get the document which +contained the false report safely into the post. Before he attempted +to restore the stricken man, he took up the cablegram and read the +contents. It ran as follows:-- + + _"Sibyl has had bad fall from pony. Case hopeless. Come home + at once."_ + +"So Sibyl, whoever Sibyl may be, is at the bottom of Ogilvie's fall," +thought Rycroft. "Poor chap! he has got a fearful shock. Best make all +safe. I must see things through." + +Without an instant's hesitation Rycroft took the already signed +document, thrust it into an envelope, directed it in full and stamped +it. Then he went to the telegraph messenger who was still waiting +outside. + +"No answer to the cable, but take this at once to the post-office and +register it," he said; "here is money--you can keep the change." + +The man departed on his errand, carrying the signed document. + +Rycroft now bent over Ogilvie. There was a slightly blue tinge round +his lips, but the rest of his face was white and drawn. + +"Looks like death," muttered Rycroft. He unfastened Ogilvie's collar +and thrust his hand beneath his shirt. He felt the faint, very faint +beat of the heart. + +"Still living," he murmured, with a sigh of relief. He applied the +usual restoratives. In a few moments Ogilvie opened his eyes. + +"What has happened?" he said, looking round him in a dazed way. "Oh, I +remember, I had a message from London." + +"Yes, old fellow, don't speak for a moment." + +"I must get back at once; the child----" + +"All right, you shall go in the _Sahara_ to-morrow." + +"But the document," said Ogilvie, "it--isn't needed; I want it back." + +"Don't trouble about it now." + +Ogilvie staggered to his feet. + +"You don't understand. I did it because--because of one who will not +need it. I want it back." + +"Too late," said Rycroft, then. "That document is already in the post. +Come, you must pull yourself together for the sake of Sibyl, whoever +she is." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +There was a pretty white room at Silverbel in which lay a patient +child. She lay flat on her back just as she had lain ever since the +accident. Her bed was moved into the wide bay window, and from there +she could look out at the lovely garden and at the shining Thames just +beyond. From where she lay she could also see the pleasure boats and +the steamers crowded with people as they went up and down the busy +river, and it seemed to her that her thoughts followed those boats +which went toward the sea. It seemed to her further that her spirit +entered one of the great ships at the mouth of the Thames and crossed +in it the boundless deep, and found a lonely man at the other side of +the world into whose heart she crept. + +"I am quite cosy there," she said to herself, "for father's perfect +heart is big enough to hold me, however much I suffer, and however sad +I am." + +Not that Sibyl was sad, nor did she suffer. After the first shock she +had no pain of any sort, and there never was a more tranquil little +face than hers as it lay on its daintily frilled pillow and looked out +at the shining river. + +There was no part of the beautiful house half so beautiful as the room +given up to her use. It might well and aptly be called the Chamber of +Peace. Indeed, Miss Winstead, who was given to sentimentalities and +had a poetic turn of mind, had called Sibyl's chamber by this title. + +From the very first the child never murmured. She who had been so +active, like a butterfly in her dancing motion, in her ceaseless +grace, lay on her couch uncomplaining. And as to pain, she had +scarcely any, and what little she had grew less day by day. The great +specialist from London said that this was the worst symptom of the +case, and established the fact beyond doubt that the spine was fatally +injured. It was a question of time. How long a time no one could quite +tell, but the great doctors shook their heads over the child, and an +urgent cablegram was sent to Ogilvie to hurry home without a moment's +delay. + +But, though all her friends knew it, no one told Sibyl herself that +she might never walk again nor dance over the smoothly kept lawns, nor +mount the nameless pony, nor carry apples to Dan Scott. In her +presence people thought it their duty to be cheerful, and she was +always cheerful herself. After the first week or so, during which she +was more or less stunned and her head felt strangely heavy, she liked +to talk and laugh and ask questions. As far as her active little +brain went there was but little difference in her, except that now her +voice was low, and sometimes it was difficult to follow the rapid, +eager words. But the child's eyes were quite as clear and beautiful as +ever, and more than ever now there visited them that strange, far-away +look and that quick, comprehending gaze. + +"I want nothing on earth but father, the touch of father's hand and +the look in his face," she said several times; and then invariably her +own eyes would follow the steamers and the boats as they went down the +river toward the sea, and she would smile as the remembrance of the +big ships came to her. + +"Miss Winstead," she said on one of these occasions, "I go in my own +special big ship every night across the sea to father. I sleep in +father's heart every night, that's why I don't disturb you, and why +the hours seem so short." + +Miss Winstead had long ceased to scold Sibyl, and nurse was now never +cross to the little girl, and Mrs. Ogilvie was to all appearance the +most tender, devoted mother on earth. When the child had been brought +back after her accident Mrs. Ogilvie had not yet returned from town. +She had meant to spend the night at the house in Belgrave Square. An +urgent message, however, summoned her, and she arrived at Silverbel +about midnight. She lost all self-control when she saw the beautiful +unconscious child, and went into such violent hysterics that the +doctors had to take her from the room. + +But this state of grief passed, and she was able, as she said to +herself, to crush her mother's heart in her breast and superintend +everything for Sibyl's comfort. It was Mrs. Ogilvie herself who, by +the doctor's orders, sent off the cablegram which her husband received +at the very moment of his fall from the paths of honor. It was she who +worded it, and she thought of nothing at that moment but the child who +was dying in the beautiful house. For the time she quite forgot her +dreams of wealth and of greatness and of worldly pleasure. Nay, more, +she felt just then that she could give up everything if only Sibyl +might be saved. Mrs. Ogilvie also blamed herself very bitterly for +forgetting her promise to the child. She was indeed quite inconsolable +for several days, and at last had a nervous attack and was obliged to +retire to her bed. + +There came an answering cable from Ogilvie to say that he was starting +on board the _Sahara_, and would be in England as quickly as the great +liner could bring him across the ocean. But by the doctor's orders +the news that her father was coming back to her was not told to Sibyl. + +"Something may detain him; at any rate the suspense will be bad for +her," the doctors said, and as she did not fret, and seemed quite +contented with the strange fancy that she crossed the sea at night to +lie in his arms, there was no need to give her any anxiety with regard +to the matter. + +But as the days went on Mrs. Ogilvie's feelings, gradually but surely, +underwent a sort of revulsion. For the first week she was frantic, +ill, nervous, full of intense self-reproach. But during the second +week, when Sibyl's state of health assumed a new phase, when she +ceased to moan in her sleep, and to look troubled, and only lay very +still and white, Mrs. Ogilvie took it into her head that after all the +doctors had exaggerated the symptoms. The child was by no means so ill +as they said. She went round to her different friends and aired these +views. When they came to see her she aired them still further. + +"Doctors are so often mistaken," she said, "I don't believe for a +single instant that the dear little thing will not be quite as well as +ever in a short time. I should not be the least surprised if she were +able to walk by the time Philip comes back. I do sincerely hope such +will be the case, for Philip makes such a ridiculous fuss about her, +and will go through all the apprehension and misery which nearly +wrecked my mother's heart. He will believe everything those doctors +have said of the child." + +The neighbors, glad to see Mrs. Ogilvie cheerful once more, rather +agreed with her in these views, that is, all who did not go to see +Sibyl. But those who went into her white room and looked at the sweet +patient's face shook their heads when they came out again. It was +those neighbors who had not seen the child who quoted instances of +doctors who were mistaken in their diagnoses, and Mrs. Ogilvie derived +great pleasure and hope from their conversation. + +Gradually, but surely, the household settled down into its new life. +The Chamber of Peace in the midst of the house diffused a peaceful +atmosphere everywhere else. Sibyl's weak little laugh was a sound to +treasure up and remember, and her words were still full of fun, and +her eyes often brimmed over with laughter. No one ever denied her +anything now. She could see whoever she fancied, even to old Scott, +who hobbled upstairs in his stockings, and came on tiptoe into the +room, and stood silently at the foot of the white bed. + +"I won't have the curse of the poor, I did my best," said Sibyl, +looking full at the old man. + +"Yes, you did your best, dearie," he replied. His voice was husky, +and he turned his head aside and looked out of the window and coughed +in a discreet manner. He was shocked at the change in the radiant +little face, but he would not allow his emotion to get the better of +him. + +"The blessing of the poor rests on you, dear little Miss," he said +then, "the blessing of the poor and the fatherless. It was a +fatherless lad you tried to comfort. God bless you for ever and ever." + +Sibyl smiled when he said this, and then she gazed full at him in that +solemn comprehending way which often characterized her. When he went +out of the room she lay silent for a time; then she turned to nurse +and said with emphasis: + +"I like old Scott, he's a very religious man." + +"That he is, darling," replied nurse. + +"Seems to me I'm getting religious too," continued Sibyl. "It's 'cos +of Lord Jesus, I 'spect. He is kind to me, is Lord Jesus. He takes me +to father every night." + +The days went by, and Mrs. Ogilvie, who was recovering her normal +spirits hour by hour, now made up her mind that Sibyl's recovery was +merely a question of time, that she would soon be as well as ever, and +as this was the case, surely it seemed a sad pity that the bazaar, +which had been postponed, should not take place. + +"The bazaar will amuse the child, besides doing a great deal of good +to others," thought Mrs. Ogilvie. + +No sooner had this idea come to her, than she found her +engagement-book, and looked up several items. The bazaar had of course +been postponed from the original date, but it would be easy to have it +on the 24th of September. The 24th was in all respects a suitable +date, and those people who had not gone abroad or to Scotland would be +glad to spend a week in the beautiful country house. It was such a sad +pity, thought Mrs. Ogilvie, not to use the new furniture to the best +advantage, not to sleep in the new beds, not to make use of all the +accessories which had cost so much money, or rather which had cost so +many debts, for not a scrap of the furniture was paid for, and the +house itself was only held on sufferance. + +"It will be doing such a good work," said Mrs. Ogilvie to herself. "I +shall be not only entertaining my friends and amusing dear little +Sibyl, but I shall be collecting money for an excellent charity." + +In the highest spirits she ran upstairs and burst into her little +daughter's room. + +"Oh, Mummy," said Sibyl. She smiled and said faintly, "Come and kiss +me, Mummy." + +Mrs. Ogilvie was all in white and looked very young and girlish and +pretty. She tripped up to the child, bent over her and kissed her. + +"My little white rose," she said, "you must get some color back into +your cheeks." + +"Oh, color don't matter," replied Sibyl. "I'm just as happy without +it." + +"But you are quite out of pain, my little darling?" + +"Yes, Mummy." + +"And you like lying here in your pretty window?" + +"Yes, mother darling." + +"You are not weary of lying so still?" + +Sibyl laughed. + +"It is funny," she said, "I never thought I could lie so very still. I +used to get a fidgety sort of pain all down me if I stayed still more +than a minute at a time, but now I don't want to walk. My legs are too +heavy. I feel heavy all down my legs and up to the middle of my back, +but that is all. See, Mummy, how nicely I can move my hands. Nursie is +going to give me some dolls to dress." + +"What a splendid idea, Sib!" said Mrs. Ogilvie, "you shall dress some +dolls for mother's bazaar." + +"Are you going to have it after all?" cried Sibyl, her eyes +brightening. "Are the big-wigs coming?" + +"Yes, pet, and you shall help me. You shall dress pretty little dolls +which the big-wigs shall buy--Lord Grayleigh and the rest." + +"I like Lord Grayleigh," replied Sibyl. "I am glad you are going to +have the bazaar, Mummy." + +Mrs. Ogilvie laughed with glee. She seated herself in a comfortable +rocking chair near the window and chatted volubly. Sibyl was really a +wonderfully intelligent child. It was delightful to talk to her. There +was no narrowness about Sibyl. She had quite a breadth of view and of +comprehension for her tender years. + +"My dear little girl," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "I am so glad you like the +idea. Perhaps by the day of the bazaar you will be well enough to come +downstairs and even to walk a little." + +Sibyl made no answer to this. After a moment's pause she said: + +"Do have the bazaar and let all the big-wigs come. I can watch them +from my bed. I can look out of the window and see everything--it will +be fun." + +Soon afterward Mrs. Ogilvie left the room. She met Miss Winstead on +the stairs. + +"Miss Winstead," she said, "I have just been sitting with the child. +She seems much better." + +"Do you think so?" replied Miss Winstead shortly. + +"I do. Why do you stare at me in that disapproving manner? You really +are all most unnatural. Who should know of the health of her child if +her own mother does not? The little darling is recovering fast--I +have just been having a most interesting talk with her. She would like +me to have the bazaar." + +"The bazaar!" echoed Miss Winstead. "Surely you don't mean to have it +here?" + +"Yes, here. The child is greatly interested. She would like me to have +it, and I am going to send out invitations at once. It will be held on +the 24th and 25th of the month." + +"I would not, if I were you," said Miss Winstead slowly. "You know +what the doctors have said." + +Mrs. Ogilvie first turned white, and then her face grew red and angry. + +"I don't believe a single word of what they say," she retorted with +some passion. "The child looks better every day. What the dear little +thing wants is rousing. The bazaar will do her no end of good. Mark my +words, Miss Winstead, we shall have Sibyl on her feet again by the +24th." + +"You forget," said Miss Winstead slowly, "the _Sahara_ is due in +England about that date. Mr. Ogilvie will be back. He will not be +prepared for--for what he has to see." + +"I know quite well that my husband will return about then, but I don't +understand what you mean by saying that he will not be prepared. +There will be nothing but joyful tidings to give him. The child nearly +herself and the bazaar at its height. Delightful! Now pray, my good +creature, don't croak any more; I must rush up to town this +afternoon--there is a great deal to see about." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Lord Grayleigh was so anxious about the Syndicate that he would not go +to Scotland for the shooting as usual. Later on he would attend to his +pleasures, but not now. Later on when Ogilvie had returned, and the +company was finally floated, and the shares taken up, he would relax +his efforts, but just at present he was engaged over the biggest thing +of his life. He was cheerful, however, and full of hope. He even +thanked Providence for having aided all his exertions. So blinded was +he by the glare of avarice and the desire for adding wealth to wealth +that Ogilvie's cablegram set every anxiety at rest. He even believed +that the mine was as full of gold as the cablegram seemed to indicate. +Yes, everything was going well. The Lombard Deeps Company would be +floated in a short time, the Board of Directors was complete. + +Ogilvie's cablegram was shown to a few of the longest-headed men in +the financial world, and his report was anxiously looked for. Rumors +carefully worded got by degrees into the public press, the ominous +whispers were absolutely silenced: all, in short, was ripe for action. +Nothing definite, however, could be done until the full report of the +mine arrived. + +Lord Grayleigh was fond of saying to himself: "From the tone of +Ogilvie's cablegram the mine must be all that we desire, the ore rich, +the veins good, the extent of the wealth unlimited. It will be nice," +Lord Grayleigh reflected, "to be rich and also honest at the same +time." He was a man with many kindly impulses, but he had never been +much troubled by the voice of conscience. So he went backward and +forward to his lovely home in the country, and played with his +children, and enjoyed life generally. + +On a certain day in the first week of September he received a letter +from Mrs. Ogilvie; it ran as follows:-- + + "MY DEAR LORD GRAYLEIGH, + + "You have not, I hope, forgotten your promise to be, as + Sibyl said, one of the big-wigs at my bazaar." + +"But I _had_ forgotten it," muttered Grayleigh to himself. "That woman +is, in my opinion, a poor, vain, frivolous creature. Why did she +hamper Ogilvie with that place in his absence? Now, forsooth, she must +play at charity. When that sort of woman does that sort of thing she +is contemptible." + +He lowered his eyes again, and went on reading the letter. + + "I was obliged to postpone the original date," continued his + correspondent, "but I have quite fixed now that the bazaar + shall be held at our new lovely place on the 24th. You, I + know, will not disappoint me. You will be sure to be + present. I hope to clear a large sum for the Home for + Incurables at Watleigh. Have you heard how badly that poor + dear charity needs funds just now? If you hesitate for a + moment to come and help, just cast a thought on the poor + sufferers there, the children, who will never know the + blessing of strength again. Think what it is to lighten the + burden of their last days, and do not hesitate to lend your + hand to so worthy a work. I have advertised you in the + papers as our principal supporter and patron, and the sooner + we see you at Silverbel the better. + + "With kind regards, I remain, + "Yours sincerely, + "MILDRED OGILVIE. + + "P.S.--By the way, have you heard that our dear little Sibyl + has met with rather a nasty accident? She fell off that pony + you gave her. I must be frank, Lord Grayleigh, and say that + I never did approve of the child's riding, particularly in + her father's absence. She had a very bad tumble, and hurt + her back, and has since been confined to her couch. I have + had the best advice, and the doctors have been very silly + and gloomy in their reports. Now, for my part, I have not + the slightest faith in doctors, they are just as often + proved wrong as right. The child is getting much better, but + she is still, of course, confined to her bed. She would send + you her love if she knew I was writing." + +Lord Grayleigh let this letter drop on to the table beside him. He sat +quite still for a moment, then he lit a cigarette and began to pace +the room. After a pause he took up Mrs. Ogilvie's letter and re-read +the postscript. + +After having read it a second time he rang his bell sharply. A servant +appeared. + +"I am going to town by the next train; have the trap round," was +Grayleigh's direction. + +He did go to town by the next train, his children seeing him off. + +"Where are you going, father?" called out Freda. "You promised you +would take us for a long, long drive this afternoon. Oh, this is +disappointing. Are you coming back at all to-night?" + +"I don't think so, Freda. By the way, have you heard that your little +friend Sibyl has met with an accident?" + +"Has she?" replied Freda. "I am very sorry. I like Sibyl very much." + +"So do I!" said Gus, coming up, "she's the best sort of girl I ever +came across, not like an ordinary girl--quite plucky, you know. What +sort of accident did she have, father?" + +"I don't know; I am going to see. I am afraid it has something to do +with the pony I gave her. Well, good-by, youngsters; if I don't return +by the last train to-night, I'll be back early to-morrow, and we can +have our drive then." + +Lord Grayleigh drove at once to Victoria Station, and took the next +train to Richmond. It was a two-mile drive from there to Silverbel. He +arrived at Silverbel between five and six in the afternoon. Mrs. +Ogilvie was pacing about her garden, talking to two ladies who had +come to call on her. When she saw Lord Grayleigh driving up the +avenue, she uttered a cry of delight, apologized to her friends, and +ran to meet him--both her hands extended. + +"How good of you, how more than good of you," she said. "This is just +what I might have expected from you, Lord Grayleigh. You received my +letter and you have come to answer it in person." + +"I have come, as you say, to answer it in person. How is Sibyl?" + +"Oh, better. I mean she is about the same, but she really is going on +very nicely. She does not suffer the slightest pain, and----" + +"Can I see her?" + +"Of course you can. I will take you to her. Dear little thing, she +will be quite delighted, you are a prime favorite of hers. But first, +what about the bazaar? Ah, naughty man! you need not think you are +going to get out of it, for you are, as Sibyl says, one of the +big-wigs. We cannot do without big-wigs at our bazaar." + +"Well, Mrs. Ogilvie, I will come if I can. I cannot distinctly promise +at the present moment, for I may possibly have to go to Scotland; but +the chances are that I shall be at Grayleigh Manor, and if so I can +come." + +Mrs. Ogilvie was walking with Lord Grayleigh down one of the corridors +which led to the Chamber of Peace while this conversation was going +on. As he uttered the last words she flung open the door. + +"One of the big-wigs, Sibyl, come to see you," she said, in a playful +voice. + +Lord Grayleigh saw a white little face with very blue eyes turned +eagerly in his direction. He did not know why, but as he looked at the +child something clutched at his heart with a strange fear. He turned +to Mrs. Ogilvie and said, + +"Rest assured that I will come." He then went over, bent toward Sibyl +and took her little white hand. + +"I am sorry to see you like this," he said. "What has happened to you, +my little girl?" + +"Oh, nothing much," answered Sibyl, "I just had a fall, but I am quite +all right now and I am awfully happy. Did you really come to see me? +It is good of you. May I talk to Lord Grayleigh all by myself, mother +darling?" + +"Certainly, dear. Lord Grayleigh, you cannot imagine how we spoil this +little woman now that she is lying on her back. I suppose it is +because she is so good and patient. She never murmurs, and she enjoys +herself vastly. Is not this a pretty room?" + +"Beautiful," replied Lord Grayleigh, in an abstracted tone. He sank +into a chair near the window, and glanced out at the smoothly kept +lawn, at the flower-beds with their gay colors, and at the silver +Thames flowing rapidly by. Then he looked again at the child. The +child's grave eyes were fixed on his face; there was a faint smile +round the lips but the eyes were very solemn. + +"I will come back again, presently," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "By the way, +Sib darling, Lord Grayleigh is coming to our bazaar, the bazaar for +which you are dressing dolls." + +"Nursie is dressing them," replied Sibyl in a weak voice--the mother +did not notice how weak it was, but Lord Grayleigh did. "It somehow +tires me to work. I 'spect I'm not very strong, but I'll be better +perhaps to-morrow. Nursie is dressing them, and they are quite +beautiful." + +"Well, I'll come back soon; you mustn't tire her, Lord Grayleigh, and +you and I have a great deal to talk over when you do come downstairs." + +"I must return to town by the next train," said Lord Grayleigh; but +Mrs. Ogilvie did not hear him. She went quickly away to join the +friends who were waiting for her in the sunny garden. + +"Lord Grayleigh has come," she said. "He is quite devoted to Sibyl; he +is sitting with her for a few minutes; the child worships him. +Afterward he and I must have a rather business-like conversation." + +"Then we will go, dear Mrs. Ogilvie," said both ladies. + +"Thank you, dear friends; I hope you don't think I am sending you +away, but it is always my custom to speak plainly. Lord Grayleigh will +be our principal patron at the bazaar, and naturally I have much to +consult him about. I will drive over to-morrow to see you, Mrs. Le +Strange, and we can discuss still further the sort of stall you will +have." + +The ladies took their leave, and Mrs. Ogilvie paced up and down in +front of the house. She was restless, and presently a slight sense of +disappointment stole over her, for Lord Grayleigh was staying an +unconscionably long time in Sibyl's room. + +Sibyl and he were having what he said afterward was quite a straight +talk. + +"I am so glad you have come," said the little girl; "there are some +things you can tell me that no one else can. Have you heard from +father lately?" + +"I had a cablegram from him not long ago." + +"What's that?" + +"The same as a telegram; a cablegram is a message that comes across +the sea." + +"I understand," said Sibyl. She thought of her pretty fancy of the +phantom ships that took her night after night to the breast of her +father. + +"What are you thinking about?" said Lord Grayleigh. + +"Oh, about father, of course. When he sent you that message did he +tell you there was much gold in the mine?" + +"My dear child," said Lord Grayleigh, "what do you know about it?" + +"I know all about it," answered Sybil. "I am deeply interested, +deeply." + +"Well, my dear little girl, to judge from your father's message, the +mine is full of gold, quite full." + +"Up to the tip top?" + +"Yes, you can express it in that way if you like, up to the tip top +and down, nobody knows how deep, full of beautiful yellow gold, but +don't let us talk of these things any more. Tell me how you really +fell, and what that naughty pony did to you." + +"You must not scold my darling nameless pony, it was not his fault a +bit," said Sibyl. She turned first red and then whiter than usual. + +"Do you greatly mind if I _don't_ talk about it?" she asked in a voice +of sweet apology. "It makes me feel----" + +"How, dear?" + +"I don't know, only I get the up and down and round and round feel. It +was the feel I had when pony sprang; he seemed to spring into the air, +and I fell and fell and fell. I don't like to get the feel back, it is +so very round and round, you know." + +"We won't talk of it," said Lord Grayleigh; "what shall I do to amuse +you?" + +"Tell me more about father and the mine full of gold." + +"I have only just had the one cablegram, Sib, in which he merely +stated that the news with regard to the mine was good." + +"I am delighted," said Sibyl. "It's awfully good of Lord Jesus. Do you +know that I have been asking Lord Jesus to pile up the gold in the +mine. He can do anything, you know, and He has done it, you see. Isn't +it sweet and dear of Him? Oh, you don't know all He has done for me! +Don't you love Him very much indeed, Lord Grayleigh?" + +"Who, Sibyl?" + +"My Lord Jesus Christ, my beautiful Lord Jesus Christ." + +Lord Grayleigh bent and picked up a book which had fallen on the +carpet. He turned the conversation. The child's eyes, very grave and +very blue, watched him. She did not say anything further, but she +seemed to read the thought he wished to hide. He stood up, then he sat +down again. Sibyl had that innate tact which is born in some natures, +and always knew where to pause in her probings and questionings. + +"Now," she continued, after a pause, "dear Mr. and Mrs. Holman will be +rich." + +"Mr. and Mrs. Holman," said Lord Grayleigh; "who are they?" + +"They are my very own most special friends. They keep a toy-shop in +Greek Street, a back street near our house. Mrs. Holman is going to +buy a lot of gold out of the mine. I'll send her a letter to tell her +that she can buy it quick. You'll be sure to keep some of the gold for +Mrs. Holman, she is a dear old woman. You'll be quite sure to remember +her?" + +"Quite sure, Sibyl." + +"Hadn't you better make a note of it? Father always makes notes when +he wants to remember things. Have you got a note-book?" + +"In my pocket." + +"Please take it out and put down about Mrs. Holman and the gold out of +the mine." + +Lord Grayleigh produced a small note-book. + +"What do you wish me to say?" he inquired. + +"Put it this way," said Sibyl eagerly, "then you won't forget. Some of +the gold in the----" + +"Lombard Deeps Mine," supplied Lord Grayleigh. + +"Some of the gold in the Lombard Deeps Mine," repeated Sibyl, "to be +kept special for dear Mr. and Mrs. Holman. Did you put that? Did you +put _dear_ Mr. and Mrs. Holman?" + +"Just exactly as you have worded it, Sibyl." + +"Her address is number ten, Greek Street, Pimlico." + +The address being further added, Sibyl gave a sigh of satisfaction. + +"That is nice," she said, "that will make them happy. Mrs. Holman has +cried so often because of the dusty toys, and 'cos the children won't +come to her shop to buy. Some children are very mean; I don't like +some children a bit." + +"I am glad you're pleased about the Holmans, little woman." + +"Of course I am, and aren't you. Don't you like to make people happy?" + +Again Lord Grayleigh moved restlessly. + +"Have you any other notes for this book?" he said. + +"Of course I have. There's the one who wants to marry the other one. +I'm under a vow not to mention names, but they want to marry _so_ +badly, and they will in double quick time if there's gold in the mine. +Will you put in your note-book 'Gold to be kept for the one who wants +to marry the other,' will you, Lord Grayleigh?" + +"I have entered it," said Lord Grayleigh, suppressing a smile. + +"And mother, of course," continued Sibyl, "wants lots of money, and +there's my nurse, her eyes are failing, she would like enough gold to +keep her from mending stockings or doing any more fine darning, and +I'd like Watson to have some. Do you know, Lord Grayleigh, that Watson +is engaged to be married? He is really, truly." + +"I am afraid, Sibyl, I do not know who Watson is." + +"Don't you? How funny; he is our footman. I'm awfully fond of him. He +is full of the best impulses, is Watson, and he is engaged to a very +nice girl in the cookery line. Don't you think it's very sensible of +Watson to engage himself to a girl in the cookery line?" + +"I think it is thoroughly sensible, but now I must really go." + +"But you won't forget all the messages? You have put them all down in +your note-book. You won't forget any of the people who want gold out +of the Lombard Deeps?" + +"No, I'll be certain to remember every single one of them." + +"Then that's all right, and you'll come to darling mother's bazaar?" + +"I'll come." + +"I am so glad. You do make me happy. I like big-wigs awfully." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +A few days before the bazaar Lady Helen Douglas arrived at Silverbel. +She had returned from Scotland on purpose. A letter from Lord +Grayleigh induced her to do so. He wrote to Lady Helen immediately +after seeing Sibyl. + +"I don't like the child's look," he wrote; "I have not the least idea +what the doctors have said of her, but when I spoke on the subject to +her mother, she shirked it. There is not the least doubt that Mrs. +Ogilvie can never see a quarter of an inch beyond her own selfish +fancies. It strikes me very forcibly that the child is in a precarious +state. I can never forgive myself, for she met with the accident on +the pony I gave her. She likes you; go to her if you can." + +It so happened that by the very same post there had come an urgent +appeal from Mrs. Ogilvie. + +"If you cannot come to the bazaar," she wrote to Lady Helen, "it will +be a failure. Come you must. Your presence is essential, because you +are pretty and well born, and you will also act as a lure to another +person who can help me in various ways. I, of course, allude to our +mutual friend, Jim Rochester." + +Now Lady Helen, even with the attraction of seeing Mr. Rochester so +soon again, would not have put off a series of visits which she was +about to make, had not Lord Grayleigh's letter decided her. She +therefore arrived at Silverbel on the 22d of September, and was +quickly conducted to Sibyl's room. She had not seen Sibyl for a couple +of months. When last they had met, the child had been radiant with +health and spirits. She was radiant still, but that quick impulsive +life had been toned down to utter quiet. The lower part of the little +body was paralyzed, the paralysis was creeping gradually up and up. It +was but a question of time for the loving little heart to be still for +ever. + +Sibyl cried with delight when she saw Lady Helen. + +"Such a lot of big-wigs are coming to-morrow," she said, "but Lord +Grayleigh does not come until the day of the bazaar, so you are quite +the first. You'll come and see me very, very often, won't you?" + +"Of course I will, Sibyl. The fact is I have come on purpose to see +you. I should not have come to the bazaar but for you. Lord Grayleigh +wrote to me and said you were not well, and he thought you loved me, +little Sib, and that it would cheer you up to see me." + +"Oh, you are sweet," answered the child, "and I do, indeed I do love +you. But you ought to have come for the bazaar as well as for me. It +is darling mother's splendid work of charity. She wants to help a lot +of little sick children and sick grown up people: isn't it dear of +her?" + +"Well, I am interested in the bazaar," said Lady Helen, ignoring the +subject of Mrs. Ogilvie's noble action. + +"It is so inciting all about it," continued the little girl, "and I +can see the marquee quite splendidly from here, and mother flitting +about. Isn't mother pretty, isn't she quite sweet? She is going to +have the most lovely dress for the bazaar, a sort of silvery white; +she will look like an angel--but then she is an angel, isn't she, Lady +Helen?" + +Lady Helen bent and kissed Sibyl on her soft forehead. "You must not +talk too much and tire yourself," she said; "let me talk to you. I +have plenty of nice things to say." + +"Stories?" said Sibyl. + +"Yes, I will tell you stories." + +"Thank you; I do love 'em. Did you ever tell them to Mr. Rochester?" + +"I have not seen him lately." + +"You'll be married to him soon, I know you will." + +"We need not talk about that now, need we? I want to do something to +amuse you." + +"It's odd how weak my voice has grown," said Sibyl, with a laugh. +"Mother says I am getting better, and perhaps I am, only somehow I do +feel weak. Do you know, mother wanted me to dress dolls for her, but I +couldn't. Nursie did 'em. There's one big beautiful doll with wings; +Nurse made the wings, but she can't put them on right; will you put +them on proper, Lady Helen?" + +"I should like to," replied Lady Helen; "I have a natural aptitude for +dressing dolls." + +"The big doll with the wings is in that box over there. Take it out +and sit down by the sofa so that I can see you, and put the wings on +properly. There's plenty of white gauze and wire. I want you to make +the doll as like an angel as you can." + +Lady Helen commenced her pretty work. Sibyl watched her, not caring to +talk much now, for Lady Helen seemed too busy to answer. + +"It rests me to have you in the room," said the child, "you are like +this room. Do you know Miss Winstead has given it such a funny name." + +"What is that, Sibyl?" + +"She calls it the Chamber of Peace--isn't it sweet of her?" + +"The name is a beautiful one, and so is the room," answered Lady +Helen. + +"I do wish Mr. Rochester was here," was Sibyl's next remark. + +"He will come to the bazaar, dear." + +"And then, perhaps, I'll see him. I want to see him soon, I have +something I'd like to say." + +"What, darling?" + +"Something to you and to him. I want you both to be happy. I'm +tremendous anxious that you should both be happy, and I think--I +wouldn't like to say it to mother, for perhaps it will hurt her, but I +do fancy that, perhaps, I'm going to have wings, too, not like +dolly's, but real ones, and if I have them I might----" + +"What, darling?" + +"Fly away to my beautiful Lord Jesus. You don't know how I want to be +close to Him. I used to think that if I got into father's heart I +should be quite satisfied, but even that, even that is not like being +in the heart of Jesus. If my wings come I must go, Lady Helen. It will +be lovely to fly up, won't it, for perhaps some day I might get tired +of lying always flat on my back. Mother doesn't know, darling mother +doesn't guess, and I wouldn't tell her for all the wide world, for she +thinks I'm going to get quite well again, but one night, when she +thought I was asleep, I heard Nursie say to Miss Winstead, 'Poor +lamb, she'll soon want to run about again, but she never can, never.' +I shouldn't like to be always lying down flat, should you, Lady +Helen?" + +"No, darling, I don't think I should." + +"Well, there it is, you see, you wouldn't like it either. Of course I +want to see father again, but whatever happens he'll understand. Only +if my wings come I must fly off, and I want everyone to be happy +before I go." + +Lady Helen had great difficulty in keeping back her tears, for Sibyl +spoke in a perfectly calm, contented, almost matter-of-fact voice +which brought intense conviction with it. + +"So you must marry Mr. Rochester," she continued, "for you both love +each other so very much." + +"That is quite true," replied Lady Helen. + +Sibyl looked at her with dilated, smiling eyes. "The Lombard Deeps +Mine is full to the brim with gold," she said, in an excited voice. "I +know--Lord Grayleigh told me. He has it all wrote down in his +pocket-book, and you and Mr. Rochester are to have your share. When +you are both very, very happy you'll think of me, won't you?" + +"I can never forget you, my dear little girl. Kiss me, now--see! the +angel doll is finished." + +"Oh, isn't it lovely?" said the child, her attention immediately +distracted by this new interest. "Do take it down to mother. She's +dressing the stall where the dolls are to be sold; ask her to put the +angel doll at the head of all the other dolls. Take it to mother now. +I can watch from my window--do go at once." + +Lady Helen was glad of an excuse to leave the room. When she got into +the corridor outside she stopped for a moment, put her handkerchief to +her eyes, made a struggle to subdue her emotion, and then ran +downstairs. + +The great marquee was already erected on the lawn, and many of the +stall-holders were arranging their stalls and giving directions to +different workmen. Mrs. Ogilvie was flitting eagerly about. She was in +the highest spirits, and looked young and charming. + +"Sibyl sent you this," said Lady Helen. + +Mrs. Ogilvie glanced for a moment at the angel doll. + +"Oh, lay it down anywhere, please," she said in a negative tone. But +Lady Helen thought of the sweet blue eyes looking down on this scene +from the Chamber of Peace. She was not going to put the angel doll +down anywhere. + +"Please, Mrs. Ogilvie," she said, "you must take an interest in it." +There was something in her tone which arrested even Mrs. Ogilvie's +attention. + +"You must take a great interest in this doll," she continued. "Little +Sibyl thinks so much of it. Forgive me, Mrs. Ogilvie, I----" + +"Oh, what is it now," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "what can be the matter? +Really everyone who goes near Sibyl acts in the most extraordinary +way." She looked petulantly, as she spoke, into Lady Helen's agitated +face. + +"I cannot help thinking much of Sibyl," continued Lady Helen, "and I +am very--more than anxious about her. I am terribly grieved, for--I +think----" + +"You think what? Oh, please don't begin to be gloomy now. You have +only seen Sibyl for the first time since her accident. She is very +much better than she was at first. You cannot expect her to look quite +well all of a sudden." + +"But have you had the very best advice for her?" + +"I should rather think so. We had Sir Henry Powell down twice. +Everything has been done that could be done. It is merely a question +of time and rest. Time and rest will effect a perfect cure; at least, +that is my opinion." + +"But what is Sir Henry Powell's opinion?" + +"Don't ask me. I don't believe in doctors. The child is getting +better, I see it with my own eyes. It is merely a question of time." + +"Sibyl is getting well, but not in the way you think," replied Lady +Helen. She said the words with significance, and Mrs. Ogilvie felt her +heart throb for a moment with a sudden wild pain, but the next instant +she laughed. + +"I never knew anyone so gloomy," she said, "and you come to me with +your queer remarks just when I am distracted about the great bazaar. I +am almost sorry I asked you here, Lady Helen." + +"Well, at least take the doll--the child is looking at you," said Lady +Helen. "Kiss your hand to her; look pleased even if you are not +interested, and give me a promise, that I may take to her, that the +angel doll shall stand at the head of the doll stall. The child wishes +it; do not deny her wishes now." + +"Oh, take her any message you like, only leave me, please, for the +present. Ah, there she is, little darling." Mrs. Ogilvie took the +angel doll in her hand, and blew a couple of kisses to Sibyl. Sibyl +smiled down at her from the Chamber of Peace. Very soon afterward Lady +Helen returned to her little friend. + +It was on the first day of the bazaar when all the big-wigs had +arrived, when the fun was at its height, when the bands were playing +merrily, and the little pleasure skiffs were floating up and down the +shining waters of the Thames, when flocks of visitors from all the +neighborhood round were crowding in and out of the marquee, and people +were talking and laughing merrily, and Mrs. Ogilvie in her silvery +white dress was looking more beautiful than she had ever looked before +in her life, that a tired, old-looking man appeared on the scene. + +Mrs. Ogilvie half expected that her husband would come back on the day +of the bazaar, for if the _Sahara_ kept to her dates she would make +her appearance in the Tilbury Docks in the early morning of that day. +Mrs. Ogilvie hoped that her husband would get off, and take a quick +train to Richmond, and arrive in time for her to have a nice straight +talk with him, and explain to him about Sibyl's accident, and tell him +what was expected of him. She was anxious to see him before anyone +else did, for those who went in and out of the child's room were so +blind, so persistent in their fears with regard to the little girl's +ultimate recovery; if Mrs. Ogilvie could only get Philip to herself, +she would assure him that the instincts of motherhood never really +failed, that her own instincts assured her that the great doctors were +wrong, and she herself was right. The child was slowly but gradually +returning to the paths of health and strength. + +If only Ogilvie came back in good time his wife would explain these +matters to him, and tell him not to make a fool of himself about the +child, and beg of him to help her in this great, this auspicious +occasion of her life. + +"He will look very nice when he is dressed in his, best," she said to +herself. "It will complete my success in the county if I have him +standing by my side at the door of the marquee to receive our +distinguished guests." + +As this thought came her eyes sparkled, and she got her maid to dress +her in the most becoming way, and she further reflected that when they +had a moment to be alone the husband and wife could talk of the +wonderful golden treasures which Ogilvie was bringing back with him +from the other side of the world. Perhaps he had thought much of her, +his dear Mildred, while he had been away. + +"Men of that sort often think much more of their wives when they are +parted from them," she remembered. "I have read stories to that +effect. I dare say Philip is as much in love with me as he ever was. +He used to be devoted to me when first we were married. There was +nothing good enough for me then. Perhaps he has brought me back some +jewels of greater value than I possess; I will gladly wear them for +his sake." + +But notwithstanding all her dreams and thoughts of her husband, +Ogilvie did not come back to his loving wife in the early hours of the +first day of the bazaar. Neither was there any message or telegram +from him. In spite of herself, Mrs. Ogilvie now grew a little fretful. + +"As he has not come in time to receive our guests, if I knew where to +telegraph, I would wire to him not to come now until the evening," she +thought. But she did not know where to telegraph, and the numerous +duties of the bazaar occupied each moment of her time. + +According to his promise Lord Grayleigh was present, and there were +other titled people walking about the grounds, and Lady Helen as a +stall-holder was invaluable. + +Sibyl had asked to have her white couch drawn nearer than ever to the +window, and from time to time she peeped out and saw the guests +flitting about the lawns and thought of her mother's great happiness +and wonderful goodness. The band played ravishing music, mostly dance +music, and the day, although it was late in the season, was such a +perfect one that the feet of the buyers and sellers alike almost kept +time to the festive strains. + +It was on this scene that Ogilvie appeared. During his voyage home he +had gone through almost every imaginable torture, and, as he reached +Silverbel, he felt that the limit of his patience was almost reached. +He knew, because she had sent him a cable to that effect, that his +wife was staying in a country place, a place on the banks of the +Thames. She had told him further that the nearest station to Silverbel +was Richmond. Accordingly he had gone to Richmond, jumped into the +first cab he could find, and desired the man to drive to Silverbel. + +"You know the place, I presume?" he said. + +"Silverbel, sir, certainly sir; it is there they are having the big +bazaar." + +As the man spoke he looked askance for a moment at the occupant of his +cab, for Ogilvie was travel-stained and dusty. He looked like one in a +terrible hurry. There was an expression in his gray eyes which the +driver did not care to meet. + +"Go as fast as you can," he said briefly, and then the man whipped up +his horse and proceeded over the dusty roads. + +"A rum visitor," he thought; "wonder what he's coming for. Don't look +the sort that that fine young lady would put up with on a day like +this." + +Ogilvie within the cab, however, saw nothing. He was only conscious of +the fact that he was drawing nearer and nearer to the house where his +little daughter--but did his little daughter still live? Was Sibyl +alive? That was the thought of all thoughts, the desire of all +desires, which must soon be answered yea or nay. + +When the tired-out and stricken man heard the strains of the band, he +did rouse himself, however, and began dimly to wonder if, after all, +he had come to the wrong house. Were there two houses called +Silverbel, and had the man taken him to the wrong one? He pulled up +the cab to inquire. + +"No, sir," replied the driver, "it's all right. There ain't but one +place named Silverbel here, and this is the place, sir. The lady is +giving a big bazaar and her name is Mrs. Ogilvie." + +"Then Sibyl must have got well again," thought Ogilvie to himself. And +just for an instant the heavy weight at his breast seemed to lift. He +paid his fare, told the man to take his luggage round to the back +entrance, and jumped out of the cab. + +The man obeyed him, and Ogilvie, just as he was, stepped across the +lawn. He had the air of one who was neither a visitor nor yet a +stranger. He walked with quick, short strides straight before him and +presently he came full upon his wife in her silvery dress. A large +white hat trimmed with pink roses reposed on her head. There were +nature's own pink roses on her cheeks and smiles in her eyes. + +"Oh, Phil!" she cried, with a little start. She was quite clever +enough to hide her secret dismay at his arriving thus, and at such a +moment. She dropped some things she was carrying and ran toward him +with her pretty hands outstretched. + +"Why, Phil!" she said again. "Oh, you naughty man, so you have come +back. But why didn't you send me a telegram?" + +"I had not time, Mildred; I thought my own presence was best. How is +the child?" + +"Oh, much the same--I mean she is going on quite, _quite_ nicely." + +"And what is this?" + +Ogilvie motioned with his hand as he spoke in the direction of the +crowd of people, the marquee, and the band. The music of the band +seemed to get on his brain and hurt him. + +"What is all this?" he repeated. + +"My dear Phil, my dear unpractical husband, this is a bazaar! Have you +never heard of a bazaar before? A bazaar for the Cottage Hospital at +Watleigh, the Home for Incurables; such a useful charity, Phil, and so +much needed. The poor things are wanting funds dreadfully; they have +got into debt, and something must be done to relieve them Think of all +the dear little children in those wards, Phil; the Sisters have been +obliged to refuse several cases lately. It is most pathetic, isn't it? +Oh, by the way, Lord Grayleigh is here; you will be glad to see him?" + +"Presently, not now. How did you say Sibyl was?" + +"I told you a moment ago. You can go and see her when you have changed +your things. I wish you would go away at once to your room and get +into some other clothes. There are no end of people you ought to meet. +How strange you look, Phil." + +"I want to know more of Sibyl." Here the husband caught the wife's +dainty wrist and drew her a little aside. "No matter about other +things at present," he said sternly. "How is Sibyl? Remember, I have +heard no particulars; I have heard nothing since I got your cable. How +is she? Is there much the matter?" + +"Well, I really don't think there is, but perhaps Lady Helen will tell +you. Shall I send her to you? I really am so busy just now. You know I +am selling, myself, at the principal stall. Oh, do go into the house, +you naughty dear; do go to your own room and change your things! I +expected you early this morning, and Watson has put out some of your +wardrobe. Watson will attend on you if you will ring for him. You will +find there is a special dressing room for you on the first floor. Go, +dear, do." + +But Ogilvie now hold both her hands. His own were not too clean; they +were soiled by the dust of his rapid journey. He gripped her wrists +tightly. + +"_Where_ is the child?" he repeated again. + +"Don't look at me like that, you quite frighten me. The child, she is +in her room; she is going on nicely." + +"But is she injured? Can she walk?" + +"What could you expect? She cannot walk yet, but she is getting better +gradually--at least, I think so." + +"What you think is nothing, less than nothing. What do the doctors +say?" + +As Ogilvie was speaking he drew his wife gradually but surely away +from the fashionably dressed people and the big-wigs who were too +polite to stare, but who were all the time devoured with curiosity. It +began to be whispered in the crowd that Ogilvie had returned, and that +his wife and he were looking at certain matters from different points +of view. There were several men and women present, who, although they +encouraged Mrs. Ogilvie to have the bazaar, nevertheless thought her a +heartless woman, and these people now were rather rejoicing in +Ogilvie's attitude. He did not look like a person who could be trifled +with. He drew his wife toward the shrubbery. + +"I will see the child in a minute," he said; "nothing else matters. +She is ill, unable to walk, lying down. I want to hear full +particulars. If you will not tell them to me, I will send for the +doctor. The question I wish answered is this, _what do the doctors +say_?" + +Tears filled Mrs. Ogilvie's pretty, dark eyes. + +"Really, Phil, you are too cruel. After these weeks of anxiety, which +only a mother can understand, you speak to me in that tone, just as if +the dear little creature were nothing to me at all." + +"You can cry, Mildred, as much as you please, and you can talk all the +sentimental stuff that best appeals to you, but answer my question +now. What do the doctors say, and what doctors has she seen?" + +"The local doctor here, our own special doctor in town, and the great +specialist, Sir Henry Powell." + +"Good God, that man!" said Ogilvie, starting back. "Then she must have +been badly hurt?" + +"She was badly hurt." + +"Well, what did the doctors say? Give me their verdict. I insist upon +knowing." + +"They--they--of course, they are wrong, Phil. You are hurting me; I +wish you would not hold my hands so tightly." + +"Speak!" was his only response. + +"They said at the time--of course they were mistaken, doctors often +are. You cannot imagine how many diagnoses of theirs have been proved +to be wrong. Yes, I learned that queer word; I did not understand it +at first. Now I know all about it." + +"Speak!" This one expression came from Ogilvie's lips almost with a +hiss. + +"Well, they said at the time that--oh, Phil, you kill me when you look +at me like that! They said the case was----" + +"Hopeless?" asked the man between his white lips. + +"They certainly _said_ it. But, Phil; oh, Phil, dear, they are wrong!" + +He let her hands go with a sudden jerk. She almost fell. + +"You knew it, and you could have that going on?" he said. "Go back to +your bazaar." + +"I certainly will. I think you are terribly unkind." + +"You can have those people here, and that band playing, when you know +_that_? Well, if such scenes give you pleasure at such a time, go and +enjoy them." + +He strode into the house. She looked after his retreating figure; then +she took out her daintily laced handkerchief, applied it to her eyes, +and went back to her duties. + +"I am a martyr in a good cause," she said to herself; "but it is +bitterly hard when one's husband does not understand one." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +This was better than the phantom ship. This was peace, joy, and +absolute delight. Sibyl need not now only lie in her father's arms +at night and in her dreams. She could look into his face and hear +his voice and touch his hand at all hours, day and night. + +Her gladness was so real and beautiful that it pervaded the entire +room, and in her presence Ogilvie scarcely felt pain. He held her +little hand and sat by her side, and at times when she was utterly +weary he even managed to raise her in his arms and pace the room with +her, and lay her back again on her bed without hurting her, and he +talked cheerfully in her presence, and smiled and even joked with her, +and they were gay together with a sort of tender gaiety which had +never been theirs in the old times. At night, especially, he was her +best comforter and her kindest and most tender nurse. + +For the first two days after his return Ogilvie scarcely left Sibyl. +During all that time he asked no questions of outsiders. He did not +even inquire for the doctor's verdict. Where was the good of asking a +question which could only receive one answer? The look on the child's +face was answer enough to her father. + +Meanwhile, outside in the grounds, the bazaar went on. The marquee was +full of guests, the band played cheerily, the notable people from all +the country round arrived in carriages, and bought the pretty things +from the different stall-holders and went away again. + +The weather was balmy, soft and warm, and the little skiffs with their +gay flags did a large trade on the river. Lord Grayleigh was one of +the guests, returning to town, it is true, at night, but coming back +again early in the morning. He heard that Ogilvie had returned and was +naturally anxious to see him, but Ogilvie sent word that he could not +see anyone just then. Grayleigh understood. He shook his head when +Mrs. Ogilvie herself brought him the message. + +"This cuts him to the heart," he said; "I doubt if he will ever be the +same man again." + +"Oh, Lord Grayleigh, what nonsense!" said the wife. "My dear husband +was always eccentric, but as Sibyl recovers so will he recover his +equanimity. It is a great shock to him, of course, to see her as she +is now, dear little soul. But I cannot tell you how bad I was at +first; indeed, I was in bed for nearly a week. I had a sort of nervous +attack--nervous fever, the doctor said. But I got over it. I know now +so assuredly that the darling child is getting well that I am never +unhappy about her. Philip will be just the same by-and-by." + +Grayleigh made no reply. He gave Mrs. Ogilvie one of his queer +glances, turned on his heel and whistled softly to himself. He +muttered under his breath that some women were poor creatures, and he +was sorry for Ogilvie, yes, very sorry. + +Grayleigh was also anxious with regard to another matter, but that +anxiety he managed so effectually to smother that he would not even +allow himself to _think_ that it had any part in Ogilvie's curious +unwillingness to see him. + +At this time it is doubtful whether Ogilvie did refuse to see +Grayleigh in any way on account of the mine, for during those two days +he had eyes, ears, thoughts, and heart for no one but Sibyl. When +anyone else entered her room he invariably went out, but he quickly +returned, smiling as he did so, and generally carrying in his hand +some treasure which he had brought for her across the seas. He would +then draw his chair near the little, white bed and talk to her in +light and cheerful strains, telling her wonderful things he had seen +during his voyage, of the sunsets at sea, of a marvelous rainbow which +once spanned the sky from east to west, and of many curious mirages +which he had witnessed. He always talked to the child of nature, +knowing how she understood nature, and those things which are the +special heritage of the innocent of the earth, and she was as happy +during those two peaceful days as it was ever the lot of little mortal +to be. + +But, in particular, when Mrs. Ogilvie entered the sick room did +Ogilvie go out. He had during those two days not a single word of +private talk with his wife. To Miss Winstead he was always polite and +tolerant; to nurse he was more than polite, he was kind, and to Sibyl +he was all in all, everything that father could be, everything that +love could imagine. He kept himself, his wounded conscience, his +fears, his heavy burden of sin in abeyance for the sake of the +fast-fleeting little life, because he willed, with all the strength +of his nature, to give the child every comfort that lay in his power +during her last moments. + +But the peaceful days could not last long. They came to an end with +the big bazaar. The band ceased to play on the lawn, the pleasure +boats ceased to ply up and down the Thames, the lovely Indian summer +passed into duller weather, the equinoctial gales visited the land, +and Ogilvie knew that he must brace himself for something he had long +made up his mind to accomplish. He must pass out of this time of +quiet into a time of storm. He had known from the first that he must +do this, but until the bazaar came to an end, by a sort of tacit +consent, neither the child nor the man talked of the gold mine. + +But now the guests having gone, even Lady Helen Douglas and Lord +Grayleigh having left the house, Ogilvie knew that he must act. + +On the morning of the third day after his return Mrs. Ogilvie entered +Sibyl's room. She came in quietly looking pale and at the same time +jubilant. The result of the bazaar was a large check which was to be +sent off that day to the Home for Incurables at Watleigh. Mrs. Ogilvie +felt herself a very good and charitable woman indeed. She wore her +very prettiest dress and had smiles in her dark eyes. + +"Oh! my ownest darling mother, how sweet you look!" said little Sibyl. +"Come and kiss me, darling mother." + +Mrs. Ogilvie had to bend forward to catch the failing voice. She asked +the child what she said. Sibyl feebly repeated her words. + +"Don't tire her," said Ogilvie; "if you cannot hear, be satisfied to +guess. The child wishes you to kiss her." + +Mrs. Ogilvie turned on her husband a look of reproach. There was an +expression in her eyes which seemed to say: "And you think that I, a +mother, do not understand my own child." But Ogilvie would not meet +his wife's eyes. He walked to one of the windows and looked out. The +little, white couch had been moved a trifle out of the window now that +the weather was getting chilly, and a screen was put up to protect the +child from any draught. + +Ogilvie stood and looked across the garden. Where the marquee had +stood the grass was already turning yellow, there were wisps of straw +about; the scene without seemed to him to be full with desolation. +Suddenly he turned, walked to the fireplace, and stirred the fire into +a blaze. At that moment Miss Winstead entered the room. + +"Miss Winstead," said Ogilvie, "will you sit with Sibyl for a short +time? Mildred, I should like a word with you alone." + +His voice was cheerful, but quite firm. He went up to Sibyl and kissed +her. + +"I shall soon be back, my little love," he said, and she kissed him +and smiled, and watched both parents as they went out of the room. + +"Isn't it wonderful," she said, turning to her governess, "how perfect +they both are! I don't know which is most perfect; only, of course I +can't help it, but I like father's way best." + +"I should think you did," replied Miss Winstead. "Shall I go on +reading you the new fairy tale, Sibyl?" + +"Not to-day, thank you, Miss Winstead," answered Sibyl. + +"Then what shall I read?" + +"I don't think anything, just now. Father has been reading the most +beautiful inciting things about a saint called John, who wrote a story +about the New Jerusalem. Did you ever read it?" + +"You mean a story out of the Bible, from the Book of Revelation?" + +"Perhaps so; I don't quite know what part of the Bible. Oh, it's most +wonderful inciting, and father reads so splendid. It's about what +happens to people when their wings are grown long. Did you never read +about it, Miss Winstead? The New Jerusalem _is_ so lovely, with +streets paved with gold, same as the gold in the gold mine, you know, +and gates all made of big pearls, each gate one big whole pearl. I +won't ask you to read about it, 'cos I like father's way of reading +best; but it's all most wonderful and beautiful." + +The child lay with a smile on her face. She could see a little way +across the garden from where she lay. + +Meanwhile Ogilvie and his wife had gone downstairs. When they reached +the wide central hall, he asked her to accompany him into a room +which was meant to be a library. It looked out toward the back of the +house, and was not quite in the same absolute order as the other +beautiful rooms were in. Ogilvie perhaps chose it for that reason. + +The moment they had both got into the room he closed the door, and +turned and faced his wife. + +"Now, Mildred," he said, "I wish to understand--God knows I am the +last person who ought to reproach you--but I must clearly understand +what this means." + +"What it means?" she repeated. "Why do you speak in that tone? Oh, +it's very fine to say you do not mean to reproach me, but your eyes +and the tone of your voice reproach me. You have been very cruel to +me, Philip, these last two days. What I have suffered, God only knows. +I have gone through the most fearful strain; I, alone, unaided by you, +have had to keep the bazaar going, to entertain our distinguished +guests, to be here, there, and everywhere, but, thank goodness, we did +collect a nice little sum for the Home for Incurables. I wonder, +Philip, when you think of your own dear little daughter, and what she +may----" + +"Hush!" said the man. + +Mrs. Ogilvie paused in her rapid flow of words, and looked at him with +interrogation in her eyes. + +"I refuse to allow Sibyl's name to enter into this matter," he said. +"You did what you did, God knows with what motive. I don't care, and I +do not mean to inquire. The question I have now to ask is, what is the +meaning of _this_?" As he spoke he waved his hand round the room, and +then pointed to the grounds outside. + +"Silverbel!" she cried; "but I wrote to you and told you the place was +in the market. I even sent you a cablegram. Oh, of course, I forgot, +you rushed away from Brisbane in a hurry. You received the other +cablegram about little Sibyl?" + +"Yes, I received the other cablegram, and, as you say, I rushed home. +But why are you here? Have you taken the house for the season, or +what?" + +Mrs. Ogilvie gave an excited scream, ending off in a laugh. + +"Why, we have bought Silverbel," she cried; "you are, you must be +pleased. Mr. Acland lent me enough money for the first deposit, and +you have just come back in time, my dear Phil, to pay the final sum +due at the end of October, eighteen thousand pounds. Quite a trifle +compared to the fortune you must have brought back with you. Then, +of course, there is also the furniture to be paid for, but the +tradespeople are quite willing to wait. We are rich, dear Phil, and +I am so happy about it." + +"Rich!" he answered. He did not say another word for a moment, then he +went slowly up to his wife, and took her hand. + +"Mildred," he said slowly, "do you realize--do you at all realize the +fact that the child is dying?" + +"Nonsense," she answered, starting back. + +"The child is dying," repeated Ogilvie, "and when the child dies, any +motive that I ever had for amassing gold, or any of those things which +are considered essential to the worldly man's happiness, _goes out_. +After the child is taken, I have no desire to live as a wealthy man, +as a man of society, as a man of means. Life to me is reduced to the +smallest possible modicum of interest. When I went to Queensland, I +went there because I wished to secure money for the child. I did +bitter wrong, and God is punishing me, but I sinned for her sake.... I +now repent of my sin, and repentance means----" + +"What?" she asked, looking at him with round, dilated eyes. + +"Restitution," he replied; "all the restitution that lies in my +power." + +"You--you terrify me," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "what are you talking about? +Restitution! What have you to give back?" + +"Listen, and I will explain. You knew, Mildred--oh, yes, you knew it +well enough--that I went to Australia on no honorable mission. You did +not care to inquire, you hid yourself behind a veil of pretended +ignorance; but you _knew_--yes, you did, and you dare not deny +it--that I went to Queensland to commit a crime. It would implicate +others if I were to explain things more fully. I will not implicate +others, I will stand alone now, in this bitter moment when the fruit +of my sin is brought home to me. I will bear the responsibility of my +own sin. I will not drag anybody else down in my fall, but it is +sufficient for you to know, Mildred, that the Lombard Deeps Mine as a +speculation is worthless." + +"Worthless!" she cried, "impossible!" + +"Worthless," he repeated. + +"Then why, why did you send a cablegram to say the mine was full of +gold? Lord Grayleigh told me he had received such a message from you." + +"I told a dastardly lie, which I am about to put straight." + +"But, but," she began, her lips white, her eyes shining, "if you do +not explain away your lie (oh, Phil, it is such an ugly word), if you +do not explain it away, could not the company be floated?" + +"It could, and the directors could reap a fortune by means of it. Do +you understand, Mildred, what that implies?" + +"Do I understand?" she replied. "No, I was always a poor little woman +who had no head for figures." + +"Nevertheless you will, I think, take it in when I explain. You are +not quite so stupid as you make yourself out. The directors and I +could make a fortune--it would be easy, for there is enough gold +in the mine to last for at least six months, and the public are +credulous, and can be taken in. We should make our fortunes out of the +widows and orphans, out of the savings of the poor clerks, and from +the clergyman's tiny stipend. We could sweep in their little earnings, +and aggrandize our own wealth and importance, and _lose our souls_. +Yes, Mildred, we could, but we won't. I shall prevent that. I have a +task before me which will save this foulest crime from being +committed." + +Mrs. Ogilvie dropped into a chair; she burst into hysterical weeping. + +"What you say can't be true, Phil. Oh, Phil, darling, do have mercy." + +"How?" he asked. + +"Don't do anything so mad, so rash. You always had such a queer, +troublesome sort of conscience. Phil, I cannot stand poverty, I cannot +stand being dragged down; I must have this place; I have set my heart +on it." + +He came up to her and took both her hands. + +"Is it worth evil?" he asked. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Is anything under the sun worth evil?" She made no answer. He dropped +her hands and left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Ogilvie went up to Sibyl. Suffering and love had taught him many +lessons, amongst others those of absolute self-control. His face was +smiling and calm as he crossed the room, bent over the child and +kissed her. Those blue eyes of hers, always so full of penetration and +of knowledge, which was not all this earth, could detect no sorrow in +her father's. + +"I must go to town, I shall be away for as short a time as possible. +As soon as I come back I will come to you," he said. "Look after her, +please, Miss Winstead. If you cannot remain in the room, send nurse. +Now, don't tire yourself, my little love. Remember that father will be +back very soon." + +"Don't hurry, father darling," replied Sibyl "'cos I am quite happy +thinking about you, even if you are not here." + +He went away, ran downstairs, put on his hat and went out. His wife +was standing in the porch. + +"One moment, Phil," she called, "where are you going?" + +"To town." + +"To do what?" + +"To do what I said," he answered, and he gave her a strange look, +which frightened her, and caused her to fall back against the wall. + +He disappeared down the avenue, she sank into a chair and began +to weep. She was thoroughly miserable and frightened. Philip had +returned, but all pleasant golden dreams were shattered, for although +he had sent a cablegram to Lord Grayleigh, saying that all was well, +better than well, his conscience was speaking to him, that troublesome +terrible conscience of his, and he was about to destroy his own work. + +"What fearful creatures men with consciences are," moaned Mrs. +Ogilvie. + +Meanwhile Ogilvie walked quickly up the avenue. Just at the gates he +met an old couple who were coming in. They were a queer-looking old +pair, dressed in old-fashioned style. Ogilvie did not know them, but +the woman paused when she saw him, came forward, dropped a curtsey and +said: + +"I beg your pardon, sir." + +"What can I do for you?" said Ogilvie. He tried to speak courteously, +but this delay, and the presence of the old couple whose names he did +not even know, irritated him. + +"If you please, sir, you are Mr. Ogilvie?" + +"That is my name." + +"We know you," continued the old woman, "by the likeness to your +little daughter." + +The mention of Sibyl caused Ogilvie now to regard them more +attentively. + +"May I inquire your names?" he asked. + +"Holman, sir," said the woman. "This is my husband, sir. We heard only +yesterday of dear little Missie's illness, and we couldn't rest until +we came to enquire after her. We greatly 'opes, sir, that the dear +little lamb is better. We thought you wouldn't mind if we asked." + +"By no means," answered Ogilvie. "Any friends of Sibyl's, any real +friends, are of interest to me." + +He paused and looked into the old woman's face. + +"She's better, ain't she, dear lamb?" asked Mrs. Holman. + +Ogilvie shook his head; it was a quick movement, his face was very +white, his lips opened but no words came. The next instant he had +hurried down the road, leaving the old pair looking after him. + +Mrs. Holman caught her husband's hand. + +"What do it mean, John?" she asked, "what do it mean?" + +"We had best go to the house and find out," was Holman's response. + +"Yes, we had best," replied Mrs. Holman; "but, John, I take it that +it means the worst. The little lamb was too good for this earth. I +always said it, John, always." + +"Come to the house and let's find out," said Holman again. + +He took his old wife's hand, and the strange-looking pair walked down +the avenue. Presently they found themselves standing outside the +pretty old-fashioned porch of lovely Silverbel. They did not know as +they walked that they were in full view of the windows of the Chamber +of Peace, and that eager blue eyes were watching them, eager eyes +which filled with love and longing when they gazed at them. + +"Miss Winstead!" cried little Sibyl. + +"What is it, dear?" asked the governess. + +Sibyl had been silent for nearly a quarter of an hour, and Miss +Winstead, tired with the bazaar and many other things, had been +falling into a doze. The sudden excitement in Sibyl's voice now +arrested her attention. + +"Oh, Miss Winstead, they have come." + +"Who have come, dear?" + +"The Holmans, the darlings! I saw them walking down the avenue. Oh, I +should so like to see them. Will you go down and bring them up? Please +do." + +"But the doctor said you were to be quiet, and not excite yourself." + +"What does it matter whether I incite myself or not? Please, please +let me see the Holmans." + +"Yes, dear," replied Miss Winstead. She left the room and went +downstairs. As she entered the central hall she suddenly found herself +listening to an animated conversation. + +"Now, my good people," said Mrs. Ogilvie's voice, raised high and +clear, "you will be kind enough to return to town immediately. The +child is ill, but we hope soon to have her better. See her, did you +say, my good woman? Certainly not. I shall be pleased to offer you +refreshment if you will go round to the housekeeper's entrance, but +you must take the next train to town, you cannot see the child." + +"If you please, Mrs. Ogilvie," here interrupted Miss Winstead, coming +forward. "Sibyl noticed Mr. and Mrs. Holman as they walked down the +avenue, and is very much pleased and delighted at their coming to see +her, and wants to know if they may come up at once and have a talk +with her?" + +"Dear me!" cried Mrs. Ogilvie; "I really must give the child another +bedroom, this sort of thing is so bad for her. It is small wonder the +darling does not get back her health--the dreadful way in which she +is over-excited and injudiciously treated. Really, my good folks, I +wish you would go back to town and not make mischief." + +"But if the little lady wishes?" began Mrs. Holman, in a timid voice, +tears trembling on her eyelids. + +"Sibyl certainly does wish to see you," said Miss Winstead in a grave +voice. "I think, Mrs. Ogilvie," she added, "it would be a pity to +refuse her. I happen to know Mr. and Mrs. Holman pretty well, and I do +not think they will injure dear little Sibyl. If you will both promise +to come upstairs quietly," continued Miss Winstead, "and not express +sorrow when you see her, for she is much changed, and will endeavor to +speak cheerfully, you will do her good, not harm." + +"Oh, yes, we'll speak cheerfully," said Holman; "we know the ways of +dear little Miss. If so be that she would see us, it would be a great +gratification, Madam, and we will give you our word that we will not +injure your little daughter." + +"Very well," said Mrs. Ogilvie, waving her hand, "My opinion is +never taken in this house, nor my wishes consulted. I pass the +responsibility on to you, Miss Winstead. When the child's father +returns and finds that you have acted as you have done you will +have to answer to him. I wash my hands of the matter." + +Mrs. Ogilvie went out on to the lawn. + +"The day is improving," she thought. She glanced up at the sky. "It +certainly is miserable at home, and every one talks nonsense about +Sibyl. I shall really take a drive and go and see the Le Stranges. I +cannot stand the gloom of the house. The dear child is getting better +fast, there is not the least doubt of it, and why Phil should talk as +he does, and in particular why he should speak as if we were paupers, +is past bearing. Lose Silverbel! I certainly will not submit to that." + +So the much aggrieved wife went round in the direction of the stables, +gave orders that the pony trap was to be got ready for her, and soon +afterward was on her way to the Le Stranges. By the time she reached +that gay and somewhat festive household, she herself was as merry and +hopeful as usual. + +Meantime Miss Winstead took the Holmans upstairs. + +"You must be prepared for a very great change," said Miss Winstead, +"but you will not show her that you notice it. She is very sweet and +very happy, and I do not think anyone need be over-sorry about her." + +Miss Winstead's own voice trembled. The next moment she opened the +door of the Chamber of Peace, and the old-fashioned pair from whom +Sibyl had bought so many dusty toys stood before her. + +"Eh, my little love, and how are you, dearie?" said Mrs. Holman. She +went forward, dropped on her knees by the bed, and took one of Sibyl's +soft white hands. "Eh, dearie, and what can Mrs. Holman do for you?" + +"How do you do, Mrs. Holman?" said Sibyl, in her weak, but perfectly +clear voice; "and how do you do, Mr. Holman? How very kind of you both +to come to see me. Do you know I love you very much. I think of you so +often. Won't you come to the other side of the bed, Mr. Holman, and +won't you take a chair? My voice is apt to get tired if I talk too +loud. I am very glad to see you both." + +"Eh! but you look sweet," said Mrs. Holman. + +Mr. Holman now took his big handkerchief and blew his nose violently. +After that precautionary act he felt better, as he expressed it, and +no longer in danger of giving way. But Mrs. Holman never for a single +instant thought of giving way. She had once, long ago, had a child of +her own--a child who died when young--and she had sat by that dying +child's bed and never once given expression to her feelings. So why +should she now grieve little Sibyl by showing undue sorrow? + +"It is nice to look at you, dearie," she repeated, "and what a pretty +room you have, my love." + +"Everything is beautiful," said little Sibyl, "everything in all the +world, and I love you so much." + +"To be sure, darling, and so do Holman and I love you." + +"Whisper," said Sibyl, "bend a little nearer, my voice gets so very +tired. Have you kept your hundred pounds quite safe?" + +"Yes, darling, but we won't talk of money now." + +"Only," said Sibyl, "when the gold comes from the mine _you'll_ be all +right. Lord Grayleigh has wrote your name and Mr. Holman's in his +note-book, and he has promised that you are to get some of the gold. +You'll be able to have the shop in Buckingham Palace Road, and the +children will come to you and buy your beautiful toys." She paused +here and her little face turned white. + +"You must not talk any more, dearie," said Mrs. Holman. "It's all +right about the gold and everything else. All we want is for you to +get well." + +"I am getting well," answered Sibyl, but as she said the words a +curious expression came into her eyes. + +"You know," she said, as Mrs. Holman rose and took her hand before she +went away, "that when we have wings we fly. I think my wings are +coming; but oh, I love you, and you won't forget me when you have your +big shop in Buckingham Palace Road?" + +"We will never forget you, dearie," said Mrs. Holman, and then she +stooped and kissed the child. + +"Come, Holman," she said. + +"If I might," said old Holman, straightening himself and looking very +solemn, "if I might have the great privilege of kissing little +Missie's hand afore I go." + +"Oh, indeed, you may," said Sibyl. + +A moment later the old pair were seen going slowly down the avenue. + +"Blessed darling, her wings are very near, I'm thinking," said Mrs. +Holman. She was sobbing now, although she had not sobbed in the sick +room. + +"Queer woman, the mother," said Holman. "We'll get back to town, wife; +I'm wonderful upset." + +"We'll never sell no more of the dusty toys to no other little +children," said Mrs. Holman, and she wept behind her handkerchief. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +Ogilvie went straight to town. When he arrived at Victoria he took a +hansom and drove to the house of the great doctor who had last seen +Sibyl. Sir Henry Powell was at home. Ogilvie sent in his card and +was admitted almost immediately into his presence. He asked a few +questions, they were straight and to the point, and to the point did +the specialist reply. His last words were: + +"It is a question of time; but the end may come at any moment. There +never was any hope from the beginning. From the first it was a matter +of days and weeks, I did not know when I first saw your little +daughter that she could live even as long as she has done, but the +injury to the spine was low down, which doubtless accounts for this +fact." + +Ogilvie bowed, offered a fee, which Sir Henry refused, and left the +house. Although he had just received the blow which he expected to +receive, he felt strangely quiet, his troublesome heart was not +troublesome any longer. There was no excitement whatever about him; he +had never felt so calm in all his life before. He knew well that, as +far as earthly success and earthly hope and earthly joy went, he was +coming to the end of the ways. He knew that he had strength for the +task which lay before him. + +He went to the nearest telegraph office and sent three telegrams to +Lord Grayleigh. He pre-paid the answers of each, sending one to +Grayleigh's club, another to his house in town, and another to +Grayleigh Manor. The contents of each were identical. + + "Wire immediately the next meeting of the directors of the + Lombard Deeps." + +He gave as the address to which the reply was to be sent his own house +in Belgrave Square. + +Having done this he paid a visit to his solicitor, Mr. Acland. Acland +did not know that he had come back, and was unfeignedly glad to see +him, but when he observed the expression on his friend's face, he +started and said: + +"My dear fellow, you don't look the better for your trip; I am sorry +to see you so broken down." + +"I have a good deal to try me," said Ogilvie; "please do not discuss +my looks. It does not matter whether I am ill or well. I have much to +do and must do my work quickly. You have heard, of course, about the +child?" + +"Of her accident?" exclaimed Acland; "yes, her mother wrote to me some +time ago--she had a fall from her pony?" + +"She had." + +"Take a chair, won't you, Ogilvie?" + +Ogilvie dropped into one. Acland looked at him and then said, slowly: + +"I judged from Mrs. Ogilvie's note that there was nothing serious the +matter. I hope I am not mistaken." + +"You are mistaken," replied Ogilvie; "but I cannot quite bear to +discuss this matter. Shall we enter at once on the real object of my +visit?" + +"Certainly," said Acland. + +A clerk entered the room. "Leave us," said Acland to the man, "and say +to any inquirers that I am particularly engaged. Now, Ogilvie," he +added as the clerk withdrew, "I am quite at your service." + +"Thank you. There is a little business which has just come to my ears, +and which I wish to arrange quickly. My wife tells me that she has +borrowed two thousand pounds from you in order to pay a deposit on the +place on the Thames called Silverbel." + +"Yes, the place where your wife is now staying." + +"Exactly." + +"I hope you approve of Silverbel, Ogilvie; it is really cheap at the +price; and, of course, everyone knows that you have returned a very +rich man. It would have been pleasanter for me had you been at home +when the purchase was made, but Mrs. Ogilvie was insistent. She had +taken a strong fancy to the place. There were several other less +expensive country places in the market, but the only one which would +please her was Silverbel. I cabled to you, but got no reply. Your wife +implored me to act, and I lent her the deposit. The purchase must be +completed at the end of October, in about a month from now. I hope you +don't blame me, Ogilvie?" + +"I don't blame you--I understand my wife. It would have been difficult +to refuse her. Of course, had you done so matters might have been a +little easier for me now. As it is, I will pay you back the deposit. I +have my cheque-book with me." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I should like to write a cheque for you now. I must get this matter +put straight, and, Acland, you must find another purchaser." + +"Not really!" cried Mr. Acland. "The place is beautiful, and cheap at +the price, and you have come back a rich man." + +"On the contrary, I have returned to England practically a pauper." + +"No!" cried Mr. Acland; "but the report of the Lombard Deeps----" + +"Hush, you will know all soon. It is sufficient for you at present to +receive the news in all confidence that I am a ruined man. Not that it +matters. There will be a trifle for my wife--nothing else concerns me. +May I fill in this cheque?" + +"You can do so, of course," replied Acland. "I shall receive the money +in full sooner or later from the other purchaser, and then you can +have it back." + +"It would be a satisfaction to me, however, to pay you the deposit you +lent my wife at once." + +"Very well." + +Ogilvie filled in a cheque for two thousand pounds. + +"You had better see Mrs. Ogilvie with regard to this," he said, as he +stood up. "You transacted the business with her, and you must break to +her what I have already done, but what I fear she fails to believe, +that the purchase cannot possibly go on. It will not be in my power, +Acland, to complete it, even if I should be alive at the time." + +"I know another man only too anxious to purchase," said Acland; "but I +am deeply sorry for you--your child so ill, your own mission to +Queensland a failure." + +"Yes, quite a failure. I won't detain you any longer now. I may need +your services again presently." + +Ogilvie went from the lawyer's house straight to his own in Belgrave +Square. It was in the hands of a caretaker. A seedy-looking man in a +rusty black coat opened the door. He did not know Ogilvie. + +"I am the master," said Ogilvie; "let me in, please." + +The man stood aside. + +"Has a telegram come for me?" + +"Yes, sir, five minutes ago." + +Ogilvie tore it open, and read the contents. + + "Meeting of directors at one o'clock to-morrow, at Cannon + Street Hotel. Not necessary for you to be present unless you + wish. GRAYLEIGH." + +Ogilvie crushed up the telegram, and turned to the man. + +"I shall sleep here to-night," Ogilvie said, "and shall be back in the +course of the evening." + +He then went to his bank. It was within half-an-hour of closing. He +saw one of the managers who happened to be a friend of his. The +manager welcomed him back with effusion, and then made the usual +remark about his changed appearance. + +Ogilvie put his troublesome questions aside. + +"I had an interview with you just before I went to Queensland," he +said, "and I then placed, with a special note for your instructions +in case anything happened to me, a sum of money in the bank." + +"A large sum, Ogilvie--ten thousand pounds." + +"Yes, ten thousand pounds," repeated Ogilvie. "I want to withdraw the +money." + +"It is a considerable sum to withdraw at once, but as it is not on +deposit you can have it." + +"I thought it only fair to give you a few hours' notice. I shall call +for it to-morrow about ten o'clock." + +"Do you wish to take it in a cheque?" + +"I think not, I should prefer notes." Ogilvie added a few more words, +and then went back to his own house. + +At last everything was in train. He uttered a sigh of relief. The +house looked gloomy and dismantled, but for that very reason it suited +his feelings. Some of the furniture had been removed to Silverbel, and +the place was dusty. His study in particular looked forbidding, some +ashes from the last fire ever made there still remained in the grate. +He wondered if anyone had ever entered the study since he last sat +there and struggled with temptation and yielded to it. + +He went up to his own room, which had been hastily prepared for him, +and looked around him in a forlorn way. He then quickly mounted +another flight of stairs, and found himself at last in the room where +his little daughter used to sleep. The moment he entered this room he +was conscious of a sensation of comfort. The worldliness of all the +rest of the house fell away in this sweet, simply furnished chamber. +He sat down near the little empty bed, pressed his hand over his eyes, +and gave himself up to thought. + +Nobody knew how long he sat there. The caretaker and his wife took no +notice. They were busy down in the kitchen. It mattered nothing at all +to them whether Ogilvie were in the house or not. He breathed a +conscious sigh of relief. He was glad to be alone, and the spirit of +his little daughter seemed close to him. He had something hard to go +through, and terrible agony would be his as he accomplished his task. +He knew that he should have to walk through fire, and the fire would +not be brief nor quickly over. Step by step his wounded feet must +tread. By no other road was there redemption. He did not shirk the +inevitable. On the contrary, his mind was made up. + +"By no other road can I clasp her hand in the Eternity which lies +beyond this present life," he thought. "I deserve the pain and the +shame, I deserve all. There are times when a man comes face to face +with God. It is fearful when his God is angry with him. My God is +angry--the pains of hell take hold of me." + +He walked to the window and looked out. It is doubtful if he saw much. +Suddenly beside the little empty bed he fell on his knees, buried his +face in his hands and a sob rose to his throat. + + * * * * * + +On the following day, shortly before one o'clock, the directors of the +Lombard Deeps Company assembled in one of the big rooms of the Cannon +Street Hotel. Lord Grayleigh, the Chairman, had not yet arrived. The +rest of the directors sat around a long, green baize table and talked +eagerly one to the other. They formed a notable gathering, including +many of the astutest financiers in the city. As they sat and waited +for Grayleigh to appear, they eagerly discussed the prospects of the +new venture. While they talked their spirits rose, and had any outside +spectator been present he would have guessed that they had already +made up their minds to an enormous success. + +Just on the stroke of one Grayleigh, carrying a roll of documents in +his hand, entered the room. There was a lull in the conversation as he +nodded to one and another of his acquaintances, went quickly up the +room and took his seat at the head of the table. Here he arranged his +papers and held a short consultation with the secretary, a tall man of +about fifty years of age. There was a short pause and then Lord +Grayleigh rose to his feet. + +"Gentlemen," he began, "although, as you know, I have been and am +still chairman of several companies, I can say without hesitation that +never have I presided at a meeting of the directors of any company +before which had such brilliant prospects. It is my firm conviction, +and I hope to impress you all with a similar feeling, that the Lombard +Deeps Mining Company has a great career before it." + +Expressions of satisfaction rose from one or two present. + +Lord Grayleigh proceeded: "This I can frankly say is largely due to +our having secured the services of Mr. Philip Ogilvie as our assayer, +but I regret to have to tell you all that, although he has returned +to England, he is not likely to be present to-day. A very serious +domestic calamity which ought to claim your deepest sympathy is the +cause of his absence, but his report in detail I shall now have the +pleasure of submitting to you." + +Here Lord Grayleigh took up the document which had been signed by +Ogilvie and Rycroft at the Waharoo Hotel at Brisbane. He proceeded to +read it aloud, emphasizing the words which spoke of the value of the +veins of gold beneath the alluvial deposit. + +"This report," he said in conclusion, "is vouched for by the +signatures of my friend Ogilvie and also by James Rycroft, who is +nearly as well known in Queensland as Ogilvie is in London." + +As detail after detail of the brilliantly worded document which +Ogilvie and Rycroft had compounded with such skill, fell upon the ears +of Lord Grayleigh's audience, satisfaction not unmixed with avarice +lit up the eyes of many. Accustomed as most of these men were to +assayers' reports, what they now listened to unfeignedly astonished +them. There was a great silence in the room, and not the slightest +word from Lord Grayleigh's clear voice was lost. + +When he had finished he laid the document on the table and was just +about, as he expressed it, to proceed to business when a movement at +the door caused all to turn their heads. Ogilvie had unexpectedly +entered the room. + +Cries of welcome greeted him and many hands were stretched out. He +contented himself, however, with bowing slightly, and going up the +room handed Lord Grayleigh a packet. + +"Don't open it now," he said in a low voice, "it is for yourself, and +carries its own explanation with it." + +He then turned and faced the directors. There was something about his +demeanor and an indescribable look on his face, which caused the +murmurs of applause to die away and silence once more to fill the +room. + +Lord Grayleigh slipped the small packet into his pocket and also rose +to his feet. + +Ogilvie's attitude and manner disturbed him. A sensation as though of +coming calamity seemed to weigh the air. Lord Grayleigh was the first +to speak. + +"We are all glad to welcome you back, Ogilvie," he said. "In more +senses than one we are pleased that you are able to be present just +now. I have just been reading your report to these gentlemen. I had +finished it when you entered the room." + +"It is an admirable and brilliant account of the mine, Mr. Ogilvie," +said a director from the far end of the table. "I congratulate you not +only on the good news it contains, but on the excellent manner in +which you have put details together. The Lombard Deeps will be the +best thing in the market, and we shall not need for capital to work +the mine to the fullest extent." + +"Will you permit me to look at my report for a moment, Lord +Grayleigh?" said Ogilvie, in a grave tone. + +Grayleigh gave it to him. Ogilvie took it in his hand. + +"I have come here to-day," he said, "to speak for a moment"--his voice +was husky; he cleared his throat, and went on--"to perform a painful +business, to set wrong right. I am prepared, gentlemen, for your +opprobrium. You think well of me now, you will not do so long. I have +come here to speak to you of that----" + +"Sit down," said Grayleigh's voice behind him. "You must be mad. +Remember yourself." He laid his hand on Ogilvie's arm. Ogilvie shook +it off. + +"I can tell you, gentlemen, what I have come to say in a few words," +he continued. "This report which I drew up, and which I signed, is as +_false as hell_." + +"False?" echoed a voice in the distance, a thin voice from a +foreign-looking man. "Impossible!" + +"It is false," continued Ogilvie. "I wrote the report and I ought to +know. I spent three weeks at the Lombard Deeps Mine. There were no +rich veins of gold; there was a certain alluvial deposit, which for a +time, a few months, might yield five ounces to the ton. I wrote the +report for a motive which no longer exists. God Himself smote me for +my infamous work. Gentlemen, you can do with me exactly as you think +fit, but this report, signed by me, shall never go before the world." + +As he said the last words he hastily tore away his own signature, +crushed it in his hands and, crossing the room, threw it into a small +fire which was burning in the grate. + +This action was the signal for great excitement on the part of most of +the directors. Others poured out floods of questions. Lord Grayleigh +alone remained quietly seated in his chair, but his face was white, +and for the time he was scarcely conscious of what he was doing. + +"I have no excuse to offer," continued Ogilvie, "and I refuse to +inculpate anyone with myself in this matter. This was my own concern; +I thought out the report, I worded it, I signed it. Rycroft was more +or less my tool. In the moment of my so-called victory God smote me. +You can do with me just as you please, but the Lombard Deeps Company +must collapse. I have nothing further to say." + +He left the room, dropping the now worthless document on to the table +as he did so. No one interrupted him or prevented his exit. As his +footsteps died away on the stairs the discomfited and astonished +directors looked one at the other. + +"What is the meaning of it all?" said one, going up to Grayleigh; +"you are chairman, and you ought to know." + +Grayleigh shook himself and stood up. + +"This must be a brief madness," he said; "there is no other way to +account for it. Ogilvie, of all men under the sun! Gentlemen, you know +his character, you know what his name was worth as our engineer, but +there is one other thing you do not know. The poor fellow has a child, +only one, to whom he is devoted. I heard this morning that the child +is dying. Under such circumstances his mind may have been unhinged. +Let me follow him. I will return after I have said a word to him." + +The chairman left the room, ran quickly downstairs and out into the +street. Ogilvie had hailed a hansom and was getting into it. + +"One moment first," said Grayleigh. + +"What do you want?" asked Ogilvie. + +"An explanation." + +"I gave it upstairs." + +"You are mad--you are mad." + +"On the contrary, I believe that I am sane--sane at last. I grant you +I was mad when I signed the report, but I am sane now." + +"What packet was that you gave me?" + +"Your money back." + +"The ten thousand pounds?" + +"Yes; I did not want it. I have delivered my soul, and nothing else +matters." + +"Tell me at least one thing. Is this strange action on your part owing +to the child's accident?" + +"It is. I was going headlong down to hell, but God, through her, has +pulled me up short. Gold is utterly valueless to me now. The child is +dying, and I cannot part with her for all eternity. You can draw your +own conclusions." + +As Ogilvie spoke he shook Grayleigh's detaining hand from his arm. The +chairman of the Lombard Deeps Company stood still for a moment, then +returned to the directors. + +As Grayleigh walked slowly upstairs he had a moment's conflict with +his own conscience. In one thing at least Ogilvie was generous. He had +not dragged Lord Grayleigh to the earth in his own fall. The affair of +the ten thousand pounds was known to no one else. + +"He fell, and I caused him to fall," thought Lord Grayleigh. "In the +moment of his fall, if I were even half a man, I would stand by him +and acknowledge my share in the matter. But no; where would be the +use? I cannot drag my children through the mire. Poor Ogilvie is +losing his child, and for him practically life is over." + +Grayleigh re-entered the room where the directors waited for him. + +"I saw Ogilvie just now," he said, "and he sticks to his story. I +fear, too, that I was wrong in my conjecture with regard to his +madness. He must have had a temporary madness when he drew up and +signed the false report. I suppose we ought to consider ourselves +lucky." + +"At least the widows and orphans won't be ruined," said one of the +directors, a thin-faced anxious-looking man. "Well, of course, Lord +Grayleigh, we must all wash our hands of this." + +"We must do so advisedly," was Grayleigh's remark; "remember, we have +gone far. Remember, the cablegram was not kept too secret, and the +knowledge of the excellent report sent by Ogilvie has got to the +ears of one or two city editors. He must give out that there was a +misunderstanding as to the value of the mine." + +"And what of Ogilvie himself?" said an angry-looking man. "Such +infamous conduct requires stringent measures. Do you gentlemen share +my views?" + +One or two did, but most protested against dragging Ogilvie's story +too prominently into the light of day. + +"It may reflect on ourselves," said one or two. "It is just possible +there may be some people who will not believe that he was alone in +this matter." + +Lord Grayleigh was the last to speak. + +"If I were you, gentlemen," he said, moodily, "I would leave Ogilvie +to his God." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +"Philip!" said Mrs. Ogilvie, as he re-entered pretty Silverbel about +four o'clock that afternoon, "I have just had an extraordinary +telegram from our lawyer, Mr. Acland." + +Ogilvie looked full at her but did not speak. + +"How strangely tired and worn you look," she replied; "what can be the +matter with you? Sometimes, when I think of you and the extraordinary +way in which you are acting, I come to the conclusion that your brain +cannot be right." + +"You are wrong there, Mildred. There was a time when not only my brain +but all my moral qualities were affected, but I believe these things +are put right at last." + +He gave a hollow laugh. + +"I am enjoying, for the first time for many months, the applause of an +approving conscience," he continued; "that is something to live for." + +"Have you done anything rash, Philip?" + +"I have done something which my conscience justifies. Now, what about +the telegram from Acland?" + +"He is coming here this evening to have a talk with me. What can he +have to say?" + +"Doubtless his visit is accounted for by an interview I had with him +yesterday. I asked him to explain matters to you, as you and he +conducted the business with regard to this place together. Mildred, +Silverbel must be given up." + +Her face grew red with passion, she felt inclined to stamp her foot. + +"It cannot be," she cried, "we have already paid two thousand pounds +deposit." + +"That money was returned by me to Acland yesterday. He has doubtless +heard of another purchaser. It will be a lucky thing for us, Mildred, +if he takes the furniture as well as the place. Pray don't keep me +now." + +She gave a sharp cry and flung herself into a chair. Ogilvie paused as +if to speak to her, then changed his mind and went slowly upstairs. On +the landing outside Sibyl's door he paused for a moment, struggling +with himself. + +"The bitterness of death lies before me," he muttered, for he knew +that difficult as was the task which he had accomplished that morning +at the Cannon Street Hotel, terrible as was the moment when he stood +before his fellow men and branded himself as a felon, these things +were nothing, nothing at all to that which now lay before him, for +God demanded something more of the man--he must open the eyes of +the child who worshipped him. The thought of this awful task almost +paralyzed him; his heart beat with heavy throbs and the moisture stood +on his forehead. One look at Sibyl, however, lying whiter and sweeter +than ever in her little bed, restored to him that marvellous +self-control which love alone can give. + +Nurse was in the room, and it was evident that nurse had been having a +bout of crying. Her eyelids were red. She turned when she saw her +master, went up to him and shook her head. + +"Leave us for a little, nurse," said Ogilvie. + +She went away at once. + +Ogilvie now approached the bed, dropped into a chair and took one of +Sibyl's hands. + +"You have been a long time away, father," said the child. + +"I have, my darling, I had a great deal to do." + +"Business, father?" + +"Yes, dearest, important business." + +"You don't look well," said Sibyl. She gazed at him, apprehensively, +her blue eyes opened wide, and a spasm of pain flitted across her +brow. + +"I have had a hard time," said the man, "and now, my little girl, I +have come to you, to you, my dearest, to perform the hardest task of +my life." + +"To me, father? The hardest task of your life?" + +"Yes, my little daughter, I have something to say to you." + +"Something bad?" asked Sibyl. + +"Something very bad." + +Sibyl shut her eyes for a minute, then she opened them and looked +steadily at her father, her childish lips became slightly compressed, +it was as if a world of strength suddenly entered her little frame, +as though, dying as she was, she was bracing herself to endure. + +"I am very sorry," she said. "I love you so much. What is it, +darlingest father?" + +"Let me hold your hand," he said. "It will be easier for me to tell +you something then." + +She gave it to him. He clasped it in both of his, bent forward, and +began to speak. + +"At the moment, little Sibyl, when the cablegram which told me of your +accident was put into my hand, I had just done something so wicked, so +terrible, that God Himself, God Almighty, rose up and smote me." + +"I don't understand," said the child. + +"I will explain. The cablegram told me that you were ill, very ill. I +wanted to undo what I had done, but it was too late. I hurried back to +you. God came with me on board the ship. God came, and He was angry; I +had a terrible time." + +"Still I do not understand," repeated Sibyl. + +"Let me speak, my dear girl. I reached home, and I saw you, and then a +temptation came to me. I wanted us both, you and I, to be happy +together for two days. I knew that at the end of that time I must open +your eyes." + +"Oh, we were happy!" said the child. + +"Yes, for those two days we had peace, and we were, as you say, happy. +I put away from me the thought of that which was before me, but I knew +that it must come. It has come, Sibyl. The peace has been changed to +storm; and now, little girl, I am in the midst of the tempest; the +agony I feel in having to tell you this no words can explain." + +"I wish you would try and 'splain, all the same," said Sibyl, in a +weak, very weak voice. + +"I will, I must; it is wrong of me to torture you." + +"It's only 'cos of you yourself," she murmured. + +"Listen, my darling. You have often given thoughts to the Lombard +Deeps Mine?" + +"Oh, yes." She raised herself a little on her pillow, and tried to +speak more cheerfully. "I have thought of it, the mine full, full of +gold, and all the people so happy!" + +Her voice grew quite animated. + +"Any special people, dearest?" + +"So many," she replied. "I told Lord Grayleigh, and he put their +names in his note-book. There's Mr. and Mrs. Holman, the people who +keep the toy-shop; she has a hundred pounds, and she wants to buy some +of the gold." + +"The old pair I saw coming to see you yesterday? Are they the Holmans? +Yes, I remember they told me that was their name." + +"They came, father. I love 'em so much; and there's Mr. Rochester and +Lady Helen, they want to marry. It's a secret, but you may know. And +nurse, she wants some of the gold, 'cos her eyes ache, and you sent a +cablegram, father, and said the gold was there; it's all right." + +"No, Sibyl, it is all wrong; the gold is not in the mine." + +"But you sent a cablegram." + +"I did." + +"And you said it was there." + +"I did." + +She paused and looked at him; her eyes grew full of pain; the pain +reached agony point. + +"You said it?" + +"I did worse," said the man. He stood up, folded his arms across his +chest, and looked down at her. "I did worse, and to tell you is my +punishment. I not only sent that cablegram, but I wrote an account of +the mine, a false account, false as my false heart was, Sibyl, and I +signed it with my name, for the gold I said was in the mine was not +there." + +"Why did you do it, father?" + +"Because I was a scoundrel." + +"What's that?" asked Sibyl. + +"A bad man." + +"No," said the child, "no, you was always my most perfect----" + +"You thought so, darling; you were wrong. Even when I went to +Queensland I was far from that. I could not bid you good-by before I +went, because of the sin which I was about to commit. I committed the +sin, I dropped away from honor, I let goodness go. I did that which +could never, never, under any circumstances, be worth doing, for there +is nothing worth evil, there is nothing worth sin, I see it now." + +"Then you are sorry?" + +"I have repented," he cried; "my God, I have repented," and he fell on +his knees and covered his face. For the child's sake he kept back the +sobs which rose to his throat. + +Sibyl looked at the bent head, at the dark hair already sprinkled with +gray. She lay quite still, there was not the slightest doubt that the +shock was great. Ogilvie waited, longing, wondering if the little +hand would touch his head, if the child would forgive him. + +"She is so holy, so heavenly herself," he murmured; "is it possible +that she can forgive? It must be a cruel shock to her." + +The little, white hand did not touch him. There was complete stillness +in the room. At last he raised his eyes and looked at her. She looked +steadily back at him. + +"And so you was never perfect?" she said. + +"Never." + +"And was mother never perfect?" + +"Not as you think of perfection, Sibyl, but we need not talk of her +now. I have sinned far more deeply than your poor mother has ever +done." + +The puzzled expression grew deeper on Sibyl's face. An old memory of +her mother returned to her. She saw again the scene, and recalled her +mother's words, the words she had overheard, and which the mother had +denied. She was quite still for a full moment, the little clock on the +mantelpiece ticked loudly, then she said slowly: + +"And Lord Jesus, isn't He perfect?" + +Ogilvie started when he heard her words. + +"Aye, He is perfect," he answered, "you are safe in trusting to Him. +He is all that your dreams and all that your longings desire." + +She smiled very faintly. + +"Why did He come into the world?" was her next question. + +"Don't you know that old story? Has no one told you?" + +"Won't you tell me now, father?" + +"The old story was that Christ Jesus came into the world to save +sinners." + +"Sinners," repeated Sibyl, "'cos He loved 'em?" + +"Would He have done that for anything else, do you think?" + +"I 'spect not," she replied, and again the faint smile filled her +eyes. + +"Then He loves _you_," she said, after a moment. "He came from heaven +'cos of you." + +"It seems like it, my little girl, and yet I cannot bring myself to +believe that He can love me." + +"Don't speak to me, father, for a minute; go away, and look out of the +window, and come back when I call you." + +He rose at once, crossed the room, and stood looking out. In a short +time the feeble voice called him back. + +"Father!" There was a change in the face, the look of pain had +vanished, the sweet eyes were as peaceful as ever, and more clearly +than ever did that amazing knowledge and comprehension fill them, +which never belonged to this earth. + +"Kneel down, father," said Sibyl. + +He knelt. + +Now she laid her little hand in his, and now she smiled at him, and +now, as if she were strong and well again, she stroked his hand with +her other hand, and at last she feebly raised the hand and pressed it +to her lips. + +"I am loving you so much," she said, "same as Jesus loves you, I +think." + +Then Ogilvie did give a sob. He checked it as it rose to his throat. + +"It is all right," she continued, "I love you. Jesus is perfect ... +and He loves you." + +"But do you, Sibyl, really love me the same as ever?" he asked, and +there was a note of incredulity in his voice. + +"Seems to me I love you more'n ever" was her answer, and the next +instant her soft arms encircled his neck, and he felt her kisses on +his cheek. + +But suddenly, without warning, there came a change. There was a catch +in the eager, quick breath, the arms relaxed their hold, the little +head fell back on the pillow, the face almost rosy a moment back was +now white, but the eyes were radiant and full of a wonderful, +astonished light. + +"Why," cried Sibyl, "it's Lord Jesus! He has come. He is here, looking +at me." She gazed toward the foot of the bed, her eyes were raised +slightly upward each moment the ecstatic expression grew and grew in +their depths. + +"Oh, my beautiful Lord Jesus," she whispered. "Oh, take me." She tried +to raise her arms and her eyes were fixed on a vision which Ogilvie +could not see. There was just an instant of absolute stillness, then +the clear voice spoke again. + +"Take me, Lord Jesus Christ, but first, afore we go, kiss father, and +tell him you love him." + +The eager lips were still, but the light, too wonderful for this +mortal life, continued to fill the eyes. + +It seemed to Ogilvie that great wings encircled him, that he was +wrapped in an infinite peace. Then it seemed also as if a kiss sweet +beyond all sweetness brushed his lips. + +The next instant all was cold and lonely. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +There is such a thing in life as turning straight round and going the +other way. This was what happened to Philip Ogilvie after the death of +Sibyl. All his life hitherto he had been on the downward plane. He was +now decidedly on the upward. The upward path was difficult, and his +feet were tired and his spirits sore, and often he faltered and +flagged and almost stopped, but he never once went back. He turned no +look toward the easy way which leads to destruction, for at the top of +the path which he was now climbing, he ever and always saw his child +waiting for him, nor did he feel even here on earth that his spirit +was really far from hers. Her influence still surrounded him--her +voice spoke to him in the summer breeze--her face looked at him out of +the flowers, and her smile met him in the sunshine. + +He had a rough time to go through, but he endured everything for her +sake. By degrees his worldly affairs were put into some sort of order, +and so far as his friends and society went he vanished from view. But +none of these things mattered to him now. He was living on earth, it +is true; but all the ordinary earth desires had died within him. The +spiritual life, however, did not die. Day by day it grew stronger and +braver; so it came to pass that his sympathies, instead of dwindling +and becoming small and narrow, widened, until once more he loved and +once more he hoped. + +He became very tolerant for others now, and especially was he tolerant +to his wife. + +He bore with her small ways, pitied her grief, admitted to himself +that there were limits in her nature which no power could alter, and +did his best to make her happy. + +She mourned and grieved and grieved and mourned for that which meant +nothing at all to him, but he was patient with her, and she owned to +herself that she loved him more in his adversity than she had done in +his prosperity. + +For Sibyl's sake, too, Ogilvie roused himself to do what he could for +her special friends. There was a tiny fund which he had once put aside +for his child's education, and this he now spent in starting a shop +for the Holmans in Buckingham Palace Road. He made them a present of +the shop, and helped them to stock it with fresh toys. The old pair +did well there, they prospered and their trade was good, but they +never forgot Sibyl, and their favorite talk in the evenings as they +sat side by side together was to revive memories of the little, old +shop and the child who used to buy the dusty toys. + +As to Lord Grayleigh, Philip Ogilvie and he never met after that day +outside the Cannon Street Hotel. The fact is, a gulf divided them; for +although both men to a great extent repented of what they had done, +yet there was a wide difference in their repentance--one had acted +with the full courage of his convictions, the other still led a life +of honor before his fellow-men, but his heart was not straight with +God. + +Grayleigh and Ogilvie, therefore, with the knowledge that each knew +the innermost motives of the other, could not meet nor be friends. +Nevertheless Sibyl had influenced Grayleigh. For her sake he ceased to +be chairman of several somewhat shady companies, and lived more than +he had done before in his own place, Grayleigh Manor, and surrounded +by his children. He was scarcely heard to mention Sibyl's name after +her death. + +But amongst his treasures he still keeps that little old note-book in +which she begged of him to enter her special wishes, and so much +affected was he in his heart of hearts, by her childish words, that he +used his utmost influence and got a good diplomatic appointment for +Rochester, thus enabling him and Lady Helen to marry, although not by +the means which Sibyl had suggested. + +These things happened a few years ago, and Ogilvie is still alive, +but, although he lives still on earth, he also waits on the verge of +life, knowing that at any hour, any moment, day or night, the message +may come for him to go, and in his dreams he believes that the first +to meet him at the Gates will be the child he loves. + + [THE END.] + + + + +A. L. Burt's Catalogue of Books for Young People by Popular Writers, +52-58 Duane Street, New York + + +BOOKS FOR GIRLS + + +=Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.= By LEWIS CARROLL. 12mo, cloth, 42 +illustrations, price 75 cents. + +"From first to last, almost without exception, this story is +delightfully droll, humorous and illustrated in harmony with the +story."--=New York Express.= + + +=Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There.= By LEWIS +CARROLL. 12mo, cloth, 50 illustrations, price 75 cents. + +"A delight alike to the young people and their elders, extremely funny +both in text and illustrations."--=Boston Express.= + + +=Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe.= By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"This story is unique among tales intended for children, alike for +pleasant instruction, quaintness of humor, gentle pathos, and the +subtlety with which lessons moral and otherwise are conveyed to +children, and perhaps to their seniors as well."--=The Spectator.= + + +=Joan's Adventures at the North Pole and Elsewhere.= By ALICE CORKRAN. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Wonderful as the adventures of Joan are, it must be admitted that +they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. +Altogether this is an excellent story for girls."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Count Up the Sunny Days: A Story for Girls and Boys.= By C. A. JONES. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"An unusually good children's story."--=Glasgow Herald.= + + +=The Dove in the Eagle's Nest.= By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Among all the modern writers we believe Miss Yonge first, not in +genius, but in this, that she employs her great abilities for a high +and noble purpose. We know of few modern writers whose works may be so +safely commended as hers."--=Cleveland Times.= + + +=Jan of the Windmill.= A Story of the Plains. By MRS. J. H. EWING. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Never has Mrs. Ewing published a more charming volume, and that is +saying a very great deal. From the first to the last the book +overflows with the strange knowledge of child-nature which so rarely +survives childhood; and moreover, with inexhaustible quiet humor, +which is never anything but innocent and well-bred, never priggish, +and never clumsy."--=Academy.= + + +=A Sweet Girl Graduate.= By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price $1.00. + +"One of this popular author's best. The characters are well imagined +and drawn. The story moves with plenty of spirit and the interest does +not flag until the end too quickly comes."--=Providence Journal.= + + +=Six to Sixteen=: A Story for Girls. By JULIANA HORATIA EWING. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"There is no doubt as to the good quality and attractiveness of 'Six +to Sixteen.' The book is one which would enrich any girl's book +shelf."--=St. James' Gazette.= + + +=The Palace Beautiful=: A Story for Girls. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"A bright and interesting story. The many admirers of Mrs. L. T. Meade +in this country will be delighted with the 'Palace Beautiful' for more +reasons than one. It is a charming book for girls."--=New York +Recorder.= + + +=A World of Girls=: The Story of a School. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"One of those wholesome stories which it does one good to read. It +will afford pure delight to numerous readers. This book should be on +every girl's book shelf."--=Boston Home Journal.= + + +=The Lady of the Forest=: A Story for Girls. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"This story is written in the author's well-known, fresh and easy +style. All girls fond of reading will be charmed by this well-written +story. It is told with the author's customary grace and +spirit."--=Boston Times.= + + +=At the Back of the North Wind.= By GEORGE MACDONALD. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"A very pretty story, with much of the freshness and vigor of Mr. +Macdonald's earlier work.... It is a sweet, earnest, and wholesome +fairy story, and the quaint native humor is delightful. A most +delightful volume for young readers."--=Philadelphia Times.= + + +=The Water Babies=: A Fairy Tale for a Land Baby. By CHARLES KINGSLEY. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The strength of his work, as well as its peculiar charms, consist in +his description of the experiences of a youth with life under water in +the luxuriant wealth of which he revels with all the ardor of a +poetical nature."--=New York Tribune.= + + +=Our Bessie.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"One of the most entertaining stories of the season, full of vigorous +action, and strong in character-painting. Elder girls will be charmed +with it, and adults may read its pages with profit."--=The Teachers' +Aid.= + + +=Wild Kitty.= A Story of Middleton School. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Kitty is a true heroine--warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all +good women nowadays are, largely touched with the enthusiasm of +humanity. One of the most attractive gift books of the season."--=The +Academy.= + + +=A Young Mutineer.= A Story for Girls. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"One of Mrs. Meade's charming books for girls, narrated in that simple +and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first +among writers for young people."--=The Spectator.= + + +=Sue and I.= By MRS. O'REILLY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 +cents. + +"A thoroughly delightful book, full of sound wisdom as well as +fun."--=Athenaeum.= + + +=The Princess and the Goblin.= A Fairy Story. By GEORGE MACDONALD. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"If a child once begins this book, it will get so deeply interested in +it that when bedtime comes it will altogether forget the moral, and +will weary its parents with importunities for just a few minutes more +to see how everything ends."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Pythia's Pupils:= A Story of a School. By EVA HARTNER. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"This story of the doings of several bright school girls is sure to +interest girl readers. Among many good stories for girls this is +undoubtedly one of the very best."--=Teachers' Aid.= + + +=A Story of a Short Life.= By JULIANA HORATIA EWING. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The book is one we can heartily recommend, for it is not only +bright and interesting, but also pure and healthy in tone and +teaching."--=Courier.= + + +=The Sleepy King.= A Fairy Tale. By AUBREY HOPWOOD AND SEYMOUR HICKS. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Wonderful as the adventures of Bluebell are, it must be admitted that +they are very naturally worked out and very plausibly presented. +Altogether this is an excellent story for girls."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Two Little Waifs.= By MRS. MOLESWORTH. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price 75 cents. + +"Mrs. Molesworth's delightful story of 'Two Little Waifs' will charm +all the small people who find it in their stockings. It relates the +adventures of two lovable English children lost in Paris, and is just +wonderful enough to pleasantly wring the youthful heart."--=New York +Tribune.= + + +=Adventures in Toyland.= By EDITH KING HALL. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, +price 75 cents. + +"The author is such a bright, cheery writer, that her stories are +always acceptable to all who are not confirmed cynics, and her record +of the adventures is as entertaining and enjoyable as we might +expect."--=Boston Courier.= + + +=Adventures in Wallypug land.= By G. E. FARROW. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"These adventures are simply inimitable, and will delight boys and +girls of mature age, as well as their juniors. No happier combination +of author and artist than this volume presents could be found to +furnish healthy amusement to the young folks. The book is an artistic +one in every sense."--=Toronto Mail.= + + +=Fussbudget's Folks.= A Story for Young Girls. By ANNA F. BURNHAM. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Mrs. Burnham has a rare gift for composing stories for children. With +a light, yet forcible touch, she paints sweet and artless, yet natural +and strong, characters."--=Congregationalist.= + + +=Mixed Pickles.= A Story for Girls. By MRS. E. M. FIELD. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"It is, in its way, a little classic, of which the real beauty and +pathos can hardly be appreciated by young people. It is not too much +to say of the story that it is perfect of its kind."--=Good +Literature.= + + +=Miss Mouse and Her Boys.= A Story for Girls. By MRS. MOLESWORTH. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 Cents. + +"Mrs. Molesworth's books are cheery, wholesome, and particularly well +adapted to refined life. It is safe to add that she is the best +English prose writer for children. A new volume from Mrs. Molesworth +is always a treat."--=The Beacon.= + + +=Gilly Flower.= A Story for Girls. By the author of "Miss Toosey's +Mission." 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Jill is a little guardian angel to three lively brothers who tease +and play with her.... Her unconscious goodness brings right thoughts +and resolves to several persons who come into contact with her. There +is no goodiness in this tale, but its influence is of the best +kind."--=Literary World.= + + +=The Chaplet of Pearls=; or, The White and Black Ribaumont. By +CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. It is one of the best books +of the season."--=Guardian.= + + +=Naughty Miss Bunny=: Her Tricks and Troubles. By CLARA MULHOLLAND. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"The naughty child is positively delightful. Papas should not omit the +book from their list of juvenile presents."--=Land and Water.= + + +=Meg's Friend.= By ALICE CORKRAN. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price +$1.00. + +"One of Miss Corkran's charming books for girls, narrated in that +simple and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the +first among writers for young people."--=The Spectator.= + + +=Averil.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"A charming story for young folks. Averil is a delightful +creature--piquant, tender, and true--and her varying fortunes are +perfectly realistic."--=World.= + + +=Aunt Diana.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last. +This is, both in its intention and the way the story is told, one of +the best books of its kind which has come before us this +year."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Little Sunshine's Holiday=: A Picture from Life. By MISS MULOCK. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"This is a pretty narrative of child life, describing the simple +doings and sayings of a very charming and rather precocious child. +This is a delightful book for young people."--=Gazette.= + + +=Esther's Charge.= A Story for Girls. By ELLEN EVERETT GREEN. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"... This is a story showing in a charming way how one little girl's +jealousy and bad temper were conquered; one of the best, most +suggestive and improving of the Christmas juveniles."--=New York +Tribune.= + + +=Fairy Land of Science.= By ARABELLA B. BUCKLEY. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"We can highly recommend it; not only for the valuable information it +gives on the special subjects to which it is dedicated, but also as a +book teaching natural sciences in an interesting way. A fascinating +little volume, which will make friends in every household in which +there are children."--=Daily News.= + + +=Merle's Crusade.= By ROSA N. CAREY. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price +$1.00. + +"Among the books for young people we have seen nothing more unique +than this book. Like all of this author's stories it will please young +readers by the very attractive and charming style in which it is +written."--=Journal.= + + +=Birdie:= A Tale of Child Life. By H. L. CHILDE-PEMBERTON. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"The story is quaint and simple, but there is a freshness about it +that makes one hear again the ringing laugh and the cheery shout of +children at play which charmed his earlier years."--=New York +Express.= + +=The Days of Bruce:= A Story from Scottish History. By GRACE AGUILAR. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"There is a delightful freshness, sincerity and vivacity about all of +Grace Aguilar's stories which cannot fail to win the interest and +admiration of every lover of good reading."--=Boston Beacon.= + + +=Three Bright Girls:= A Story of Chance and Mischance. By ANNIE E. +ARMSTRONG. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The charm of the story lies in the cheery helpfulness of spirit +developed in the girls by their changed circumstances; while the +author finds a pleasant ending to all their happy makeshifts. The +story is charmingly told, and the book can be warmly recommended as a +present for girls."--=Standard.= + + +=Giannetta:= A Girl's Story of Herself. By ROSA MULHOLLAND. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Extremely well told and full of interest. Giannetta is a true +heroine--warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all good women +nowadays are, largely touched with enthusiasm of humanity. The +illustrations are unusually good. One of the most attractive gift +books of the season."--=The Academy.= + + +=Margery Merton's Girlhood.= By ALICE CORKRAN. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +"The experiences of an orphan girl who in infancy is left by her +father to the care of an elderly aunt residing near Paris. The +accounts of the various persons who have an after influence on the +story are singularly vivid. There is a subtle attraction about the +book which will make it a great favorite with thoughtful +girls."--=Saturday Review.= + + +=Under False Colors:= A Story from Two Girls' Lives. By SARAH DOUDNEY. +12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00. + +"Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned stories--pure +in style, original in conception, and with skillfully wrought out +plots; but we have seen nothing equal in dramatic energy to this +book."--=Christian Leader.= + + +=Down the Snow Stairs=; or, From Good-night to Good-morning. By ALICE +CORKRAN. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Among all the Christmas volumes which the year has brought to our +table this one stands out facile princeps--a gem of the first water, +bearing upon every one of its pages the signet mark of genius.... All +is told with such simplicity and perfect naturalness that the dream +appears to be a solid reality. It is indeed a Little Pilgrim's +Progress."--=Christian Leader.= + + +=The Tapestry Room=: A Child's Romance. By MRS. MOLESWORTH. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Mrs. Molesworth is a charming painter of the nature and ways of +children; and she has done good service in giving us this charming +juvenile which will delight the young people."--=Athenaeum, London.= + + +=Little Miss Peggy:= Only a Nursery Story. By MRS. MOLESWORTH. 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +Mrs. Molesworth's children are finished studies. A joyous earnest +spirit pervades her work, and her sympathy is unbounded. She loves +them with her whole heart, while she lays bare their little minds, and +expresses their foibles, their faults, their virtues, their inward +struggles, their conception of duty, and their instinctive knowledge +of the right and wrong of things. She knows their characters, she +understands their wants, and she desires to help them. + + +=Polly=: A New Fashioned Girl. By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price $1.00. + +Few authors have achieved a popularity equal to Mrs. Meade as a writer +of stories for young girls. Her characters are living beings of flesh +and blood, not lay figures of conventional type. Into the trials and +crosses, and everyday experiences, the reader enters at once with zest +and hearty sympathy. While Mrs. Meade always writes with a high moral +purpose, her lessons of life, purity and nobility of character are +rather inculcated by example than intruded as sermons. + + +=One of a Covey.= By the author of "Miss Toosey's Mission." 12mo, +cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"Full of spirit and life, so well sustained throughout that grown-up +readers may enjoy it as much as children. This 'Covey' consists of the +twelve children of a hard-pressed Dr. Partridge out of which is chosen +a little girl to be adopted by a spoiled, fine lady. We have rarely +read a story for boys and girls with greater pleasure. One of the +chief characters would not have disgraced Dickens' pen."--=LITERARY +WORLD.= + + +=The Little Princess of Tower Hill.= By L. T. MEADE. 12mo, cloth, +illustrated, price 75 cents. + +"This is one of the prettiest books for children published, as pretty +as a pond-lily, and quite as fragrant. Nothing could be imagined more +attractive to young people than such a combination of fresh pages and +fair pictures; and while children will rejoice over it--which is much +better than crying for it--it is a book that can be read with pleasure +even by older boys and girls."--=Boston Advertiser.= + + +For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by +the publisher, =A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.= + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: + +1. Minor changes have been made to correct obvious typesetter's +errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the +author's words and intent. + +2. In the advertising pages at the end of this book, the names of +books and reviewers were set in bold type-face; this is indicated by +a = at the beginning and end of the words in bold. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Daddy's Girl, by L. T. 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