Daddy's Girl Part 20

"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 pa.s.sage, 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 s.h.i.+llings," 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 s.h.i.+llings. 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 s.h.i.+ver 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."