Daddy's Girl Part 23

"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 gla.s.ses."

"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 gla.s.ses '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 n.o.body 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 s.p.a.cious 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 t.i.tle.

"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."