Daddy's Girl Part 26

"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 b.u.t.tercups 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; "n.o.body knows how beautiful it is. I do hope it will soon be ours."

"When our s.h.i.+p 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 nutsh.e.l.l. 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."