Daddy's Girl

  CHAPTER IV.

  It was great fun getting into the holland frock, more particularlywhen it was discovered to be too short, and also very dirty. It had agreat ink-stain in front, and the sleeves were tight and showed a goodbit of Sibyl's white arms. She looked at herself in the glass anddanced about in her excitement.

  "You can have this old sailor hat to match the frock," said Freda inconclusion. "Now no one will say you are too fine. Come out now, Gusand the others are waiting."

  Yes, the sun shone once more for Sibyl, and she forgot for a timeGus's cruel words about her father. He was most attentive to her now,and initiated her into the mystery of climbing. Screams of laughterfollowed her valiant efforts to ascend the leafy heights of certainbeech trees which grew not far from the house. This laughter attractedthe attention of a lady and gentleman who were pacing the leafy alleynot far away.

  "What a noise those children make," said Lord Grayleigh to hiscompanion.

  "How many children have you, Lord Grayleigh?" asked Mrs. Ogilvie. Shelooked full at him as she spoke.

  "I have three," he replied; "they are great scamps, and never for asingle moment fit to be seen. Since their mother died"--he sighedas 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 harmin them, although they are pickles. Come, I will introduce you tothem. That reminds me, I have not yet seen your own little daughter."

  Mrs. Ogilvie was very proud of Sibyl, but only when she looked herbest. The mother now contemplated, with a feeling of satisfaction, thenice dresses which she had secured for the child before she came intothe country. No one could look more lovely than this little daughterof hers, when dressed suitably, so abundant was her golden brown hair,and so blue were her eyes, so straight the little features, so softthe curves of the rosy lips. It is true those blue eyes had anexpression in them which never in this world could Mrs. Ogilvieunderstand, nevertheless, the child's beauty was apparent to the mostsuperficial observer; and Mrs. Ogilvie turned and accompanied LordGrayleigh in the direction of the merry sounds willingly enough.

  "I see four little figures dancing about among those trees," saidLord Grayleigh. "We will see them all together."

  They turned down a side walk, and came face to face with Sibylherself. Now, at that instant the little girl certainly did not lookat her best. The holland frock, short and shabby, had a great rentabove 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 toclimb. Do you see that beech tree? I climbed as far as the secondbranch, 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 thislittle scene with an amused face. Mrs. Ogilvie was by no meanspleased.

  "What do you mean, Sibyl," she said, "by wearing that disgracefulfrock? Why did nurse put it into your trunk? And you know I do notwish you to climb trees. You are an extremely naughty girl. No, LordGrayleigh, I will not introduce my little daughter to you now. Whenyou are properly dressed, Sibyl, and know how to behave yourself, youshall have the honor of shaking hands with Lord Grayleigh. Go intothe 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 atpresent. 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 Grayleighinterfered. "Do let her speak," he said; "she looks a most charminglittle maid. For my part I like children best in _deshabille_. What isit, 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 whydid she speak to you in that strange, rude way?" Here Mrs. Ogilvieuttered a sigh. "I fear it is her father's doing," she continued, "hemakes her most eccentric. I do hope you will overlook her naughtywords. The moment I go into the house I shall speak to her, and alsoto nurse for allowing her to wear that disgraceful frock."

  "I don't think your nurse is to blame," said Lord Grayleigh. "I have akeen eye for dress, and have a memory of that special frock. Ithappens to possess a green stain in the back which I am not likely toforget. I think my Freda wore it a good deal last summer, and Iremember the occasion when the green stain was indelibly fixed uponit. You must know, Mrs. Ogilvie, that my three children are imps, andit was the impiest of the imps' frocks your little girl happened to bewearing. But what a handsome little creature she is! A splendid face.How I have come to fall under her displeasure, however, is a mysteryto me."

  "Oh, you can never account for Sibyl's whims," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "itis 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 LordGrayleigh. "She has a particularly frank, fine face."

  "Oh, she is handsome enough," answered Mrs. Ogilvie. "But what shewill grow up to, heaven only knows. She has the strangest ideas on allsorts of subjects. She absolutely believes that her father and I areperfect--could you credit it? At the same time she is a very naughtychild herself. I will go into the house, now, and give her a talkingto."

  "Don't scold her, poor little thing," said Lord Grayleigh. He was akind-hearted man in the main. "For my part," he continued, "I likenaughty children; I must force her confidence presently. She has quiteroused 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 herface. "Philip is too extraordinary at times. For my part, I really donot know how to thank you; please believe that I am altogether on yourside. If only we could persuade that eccentric husband of mine tochange his mind."

  "He is a strange fellow," answered Lord Grayleigh slowly; "but, do youknow, I think all the more of him for a letter I received a few daysago. At the same time, it will be prejudicial to our interests if heshould not act as engineer in this new undertaking. He is the one manthe 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 amglad you are on our side, and doubtless your husband's scruples"--LordGrayleigh laid the slightest emphasis on the word, and made it, evento the obtuse ears of his hearer, sound offensive--"even yourhusband's scruples of conscience may be overcome by judiciousmanagement. A wife can do much on occasions of this sort, and also afriend. He and I are more than acquaintances--we are friends. I have ahearty liking for Ogilvie. It is a disappointment not to have himhere, 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 onthat occasion. Now shall we go into the house? You will like to restbefore dinner."

  Mrs. Ogilvie often liked to affect weariness, it suited her peculiarstyle of beauty to look languid. She went slowly to her room. Hermaid, Hortense, helped her to take off her travelling dress, and toput on a teagown before she lay down on the sofa. She then told thegirl to leave her.

  When alone Mrs. Ogilvie thought rapidly and deeply. What was thematter with Philip? What did Lord Grayleigh mean by talking ofscruples? But she was not going to worry her head on that subject.Philip must not be quixotic, he must accept the good things the godssent him. Additional wealth would add s
o immensely to their happiness.

  "Money _is_ everything," she thought, "whatever Lord Grayleigh maysay. Those who refuse it are fools, and worse. Lord Grayleigh and Imust bring Philip to his senses."

  She moved restlessly on her sofa, and looked across the comfortableroom.

  With a little more wealth she could hold her own with her friends andacquaintances, and present a good figure in that world of societywhich was her one idea of heaven. Above all things, debts, which camebetween her and perfect bliss, could be cleared off. Her creditorswould not wait for payment much longer, but if Philip assayed the newmine, he would be handsomely paid for his pains, and all her own careswould take to themselves wings and fly away. Why did he hesitate? Howtiresome he was! Surely his life had not been so immaculate up to thepresent that he should hesitate thus when the golden opportunity tosecure a vast fortune arrived.

  Ogilvie came of one of the best old families across the border, andhad a modest competence of his own handed down to him from a long lineof honorable ancestors. He had also inherited a certain code which hecould not easily forget. He called it a code of honor, and Mrs.Ogilvie, alas! did not understand it. She reflected over thesituation now, and grew restless. If Philip was really such a goose asto refuse his present chance, she would never forgive him. She wouldbring up to him continually the golden opportunity he had let slip,and weary his very soul. She was the sort of soft, pretty woman whocould nag a man to the verge of distraction. She knew that inestimableart to perfection. She felt, as she lay on the sofa and toyed with theribbons of her pretty and expensive teagown, that she had her weaponsready to hand. Then, with an irritated flash, she thought of thechild. Of course the child was nice, handsome, and her own; Sibyl wasvery lucky to have at least one parent who would not spoil her. Butwas she not being spoiled? Were there not some things intolerableabout her?

  "May I come in, Mumsy, or are you too tired?" There was something inthe quality of the voice at the door which caused Mrs. Ogilvie'scallous heart to beat quicker for a moment, then she said in anirritated tone--

  "Oh, come in, of course; I want to speak to you."

  Sibyl entered. Nurse had changed her holland frock, and dressed thelittle girl in pale pink silk. The dress was very unsuitable, but itbecame 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 ownSibyl. I am pretty, I'm beautiful, and you, darling mother, will kissme."

  "Get up, Sib, and don't be absurd," said Mrs. Ogilvie; but as shespoke 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 fitsyou 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 littlewatteau back is so very becoming to small girls. Turn round nowslowly, and let me get the side view. Yes, it is a pretty dress; besure you don't mess it. You are to come down with the other childrento dessert. You had better go now, I am tired."

  "But Mummy--Mumsy!"

  "Don't call me Mummy or Mumsy, say mother. I don't likeabbreviations."

  "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 callyou anything but mother. Mother is most lovely."

  "Well, I hope you will be a good child, and not annoy me as you havebeen doing."

  "Oh, mother darling, I didn't mean to vex you, but it was such atemptation, you know. You were never, never tempted, were you, mother?You are made so perfect that you cannot understand what temptationmeans. I did so long to climb the trees, and I knew you would not likeme spoil my pretty frock, and Freda lent me the brown holland. When Isaw you, Mums--I mean, mother--I forgot about everything else but justthat I had climbed a tree, and that I had been brave, although for aminute I felt a scrap giddy, and I wanted to tell you about what I haddone, my ownest, most darling mother."

  Mrs. Ogilvie sprang suddenly to her feet.

  "Come here," she said. There was a sharpness in her tone whicharrested the words on Sibyl's lips. "Look at me, take my hand, looksteadily into my face. I have just five minutes to spare, and I wishto say something very grave and important, and you must listenattentively."

  "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 Persiankitten; the Persian cat has two, such beauties, snow-white. May I haveone, mother?"

  "Attend to me, and stop talking. You think a great deal of me, yourmother, and you call me perfect. Now show that you put me in highesteem."

  "That sounds very nice," thought Sibyl to herself. "Mother is just inher most beautiful humor. Of course I'll listen."

  "I wish," continued the mother, and she turned slightly away from thechild as she spoke, "I wish you to stop all that nonsense about yourfather and me. I wish you to understand that we are not perfect,either of us; we are just everyday, ordinary sort of people. As wehappen to be your father and mother, you must obey us and do what wewish; but you make yourself, and us also, ridiculous when you talk asyou 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 thatyou must just turn round and go the other way. You must obey me, ofcourse, and understand that I know the right way to train you; but youare not to talk of me as though I were an angel. I am nothing of thekind. I am an ordinary woman, with ordinary feelings and ordinaryfaults, and I wish you to be an ordinary little girl. I am very angrywith 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 notexactly 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 fordinner. 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 youseverely 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 speakproperly to Lord Grayleigh. Those are my orders. Now go."

  Hortense came in at that moment. She entered with that slight whirlwhich 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 thefurther end, and it reflected a pink-robed little figure. The cheekshad lost their usual tender bloom, and the eyes had a bewilderedexpression. Sibyl rubbed her hands across them.

  "I don't understand," she said to herself. "Perhaps I wasn't quitepretty enough, perhaps that was the reason, but I don't know. I thinkI'll go to my new nursery and sit down and think of father. Oh, I wishmother hadn't--of course it's all right, and I am a silly girl, and Iget worser, not better, every day, and mother knows what is best forme; but she might have let me 'splain things. I wish I hadn't a painhere." Sibyl touched her breast with a pathetic gesture.

  "It's 'cos of father I feel so bad, it's 'cos they told lies offather." She turned very slowly with the most mournful droop of herhead in the direction of the apartment set aside for nurse andherself. She had thought much of this visit, and now this very firstafternoon 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 politeto that dreadful, smiling man, with the fair hair and the keen eyes,who had spoken against her father. It was unfair, it was dreadful, toexpect 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 littleMiss Beauty?" And Sibyl raised her eyes, with a start, to encounterthe keen, frank, admiring gaze of Gus.

  "Oh, I say!" he exclaimed, "aren't we fine! I say! you'll knock Fredaand Mabel into next week, if you go on at this rate. But, come to theschoolroom; 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."