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"This is very disturbing," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "I have had a long, tiring day, and you give me a headache. When is my husband's report likely to reach England?"
"Not for several weeks, of course. It ought to be here in about two months' time, but we may have a cablegram almost any day. The public are just in a waiting att.i.tude, they want to invest their money. If the mine turns out a good thing shares will be subscribed to any extent. Everything depends on Ogilvie's report."
"Won't you stay and have some supper?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, carelessly.
"I have said already that I do not understand these things."
"I cannot stay, I came to see you because it is important. I want to know if you really wish to go on with the purchase of Silverbel. I am ready to pay a deposit for you of 2,000 on the price of the estate, which will, of course, clinch the purchase, and this deposit I have arranged to pay to-morrow, but under the circ.u.mstances would it not be best to delay? If your husband cannot give a good report of the mine he will not want to buy an expensive place like Silverbel. My advice to you, Mrs. Ogilvie, is to let Silverbel go. I happen to know at this moment of another purchaser who is only waiting to close if you decline. When your husband comes back rich you can easily buy another place."
"No other place will suit me except Silverbel," she answered.
"I strongly recommend you not to buy it now."
"And I intend to have it. I am going down there to live next week. Of course, you arranged that I could go in at once after the deposit was paid?"
"Yes, on sufferance, subject to your completing the purchase in October."
"Then pray don't let the matter be disturbed again. I shall order furniture immediately. You are quite a raven, a croaker of bad news, Mr. Acland."
Mr. Acland raised his hand in deprecation.
"I thought it only fair to tell you," he answered, and the next moment he left the house. As he did so, he uttered a solitary remark:
"What a fool that woman is! I pity Ogilvie."
CHAPTER XIII.
It was the last week in July when Mrs. Ogilvie took possession of Silverbel. She had ordered furniture in her usual reckless fashion, going to the different shops where she knew she could obtain credit.
The house, already beautiful, looked quite lovely when decorated by the skilful hands which arranged draperies and put furniture into the most advantageous positions.
Sibyl's room, just over the front porch, was really worthy of her. It was a bower of whiteness and innocence. It had lattice windows which looked out on to the lovely grounds. Climbing roses peeped in through the narrow panes, and sent their sweet fragrance to greet the child when the windows were open and she put her head out.
Sibyl thought more than ever of her father as she took possession of the lovely room at Silverbel. What a beautiful world it was! and what a happy little girl she, Sibyl, thought herself in possessing such perfect parents. Her prayers became now pa.s.sionate thanks. She had got so much that it seemed unkind to ask Lord Jesus for one thing more. Of course, He was making the mine full of gold, and He was making her father very, very rich, and everyone, everyone she knew was soon to be happy.
Lady Helen Douglas came to stay at Silverbel, and this seemed to give an added touch to the child's sense of enjoyment, for Lady Helen had at last, in a shy half whisper, told the eager little listener that she did love Mr. Rochester, and, further, that they were only waiting to proclaim their engagement to the world until the happy time when Sibyl's father came back.
"For Jim," continued Lady Helen, "will take shares in the Lombard Deeps, and as soon as ever he does this we can afford to marry. But you must not speak of this, Sibyl. I have only confided in you because you have been our very good friend all along."
Sibyl longed to write off at once to her father to hurry up matters with regard to the gold mine.
"Of course, it is full of gold, quite full," thought the child; "but I hope father will write, or, better still, come home quickly and tell us all about it."
She began to count the days now to her father's return, and was altogether in such a happy mood that it was delightful to be in her presence or to see her joyful face.
Sibyl was nearly beside herself with delight at having exchanged her dull town life for this happy country one. She quickly made friends with the poor people in the nearest village, who were all attracted by her bright ways and pretty face. Her mother also gave her a small part of the garden to do what she liked with, and when she was not digging industriously, or riding her pony, or talking to Lady Helen, or engaged in her lessons, she followed her mother about like a faithful little dog.
Mrs. Ogilvie was so pleased and contented with her purchase that she was wonderfully amiable. She often now sat in the long evenings with Sibyl by her side, and listened without impatience to the child's rhapsodies about her father. Mrs. Ogilvie would also be glad when Philip returned. But just now her thought of all thoughts was centred on the bazaar. This bazaar was to clinch her position as a country lady. All the neighbors round were expected to attend, and already she was busy drawing up programmes of the coming festivities, and arranging with a great firm in London for the special marquee, which was to grace her lawn right down to the river's edge.
The bazaar was expected to last for quite three days, and, during that time, a spirited band would play, and there would be various entertainments of all sorts and descriptions. Little boats, with colored flags and awnings, were to be in requisition on the brink of the river, and people should pay heavily for the privilege of occupying these boats.
Mrs. Ogilvie clapped her hands almost childishly when this last brilliant idea came to her, and Sibyl thought that it was worthy of mother, and entered into the scheme with childish enthusiasm.
The third week in August was finally decided as the best week for the bazaar, and those friends who were not going abroad promised to stay at Silverbel for the occasion.
Some weeks after Mrs. Ogilvie had taken possession of Silverbel, Mr.
Acland called to see her.
"We have had no cable yet from your husband," he said, "and the rumors continue to be ominous. I wish with all my heart we could silence them. I, myself, believe in the Lombard Deeps, for Grayleigh is the last man to lend his name or become chairman of a company which has not brilliant prospects; but I can see that even he is a little anxious."
"Oh, pray don't croak," was Mrs. Ogilvie's response and then she once again likened Mr. Acland to the raven.
"You are a bird of ill-omen," she said, shaking her finger playfully in his face.
He frowned as she addressed him; he could not see the witticism of her remark.
"When people are perfectly happy and know nothing whatever with regard to business, what is the good of coming and telling these dismalities?" she continued. "I am nothing but a poor little feminine creature, trying to do good, and to make myself happy in an innocent way. Why will you come and croak? I know Philip quite well enough to be certain that he would not have set foot on this expedition if he had not been satisfied in advance that the mine was a good one."
"That is my own impression," said Mr. Acland, thoughtfully; "but don't forget you are expected to complete the purchase of Silverbel by the end of October."
"Oh! Philip will be back before then," answered Mrs. Ogilvie in a light and cheerful tone. "Any day now we may get a cablegram. Well, sweetheart, and what are you doing here?"
Sibyl had entered the room, and was leaning against the window frame.
"Any day we may expect what to happen, mother darling?" she asked.
"We may expect a cable from father to say he is coming back again."
"Oh! do you think so? Oh, I am so happy!"
Sibyl skipped lightly out of the room. She ran across the sunny, radiant garden, and presently found herself in a sort of wilderness which she had appropriated, and where she played at all sorts of solitary games. In that wilderness she imagined herself at times a lonely traveler, at other times a merchant carrying goodly pearls, at other times a bandit engaged in feats of plunder. All possible scenes in history or imagination that she understood did the child try to enact in the wilderness. But she went there now with no intention of posing in any imaginary part. She went there because her heart was full.
"Oh, Lord Jesus, it is so beautiful of you," she said, and she looked up as she spoke full at the blue sky. "I can scarcely believe that my ownest father will very soon be back again; it is quite too beautiful."
A few days after this, and toward the end of the first week in August, Sibyl was one day playing as usual in the grounds when the sound of carriage wheels attracted her attention. She ran down to see who was arriving, and a shout of delight came from her when she saw Lord Grayleigh coming down the drive. He called the coachman to stop and put out his head.
"Jump into the carriage, Sib, I have not seen you for some time. When are you going to pay me another visit at Grayleigh Manor?"
"Oh, some time, but not at present," replied Sibyl. "I am too happy with mother here to think of going away. Isn't Silverbel sweet, Lord Grayleigh?"
"Charming," replied Grayleigh. "Is your mother in, little woman?"
"I think so. She is very incited about the bazaar. Are you coming to the bazaar?"
"I don't know, I will tell you presently."
Sibyl laid her little hand in Lord Grayleigh's. He gave it a squeeze, and she clasped it confidingly.