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"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, n.o.body 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 appet.i.te 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 t.i.tle 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sionate 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.