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"That is nice," she said, "that will make them happy. Mrs. Holman has cried so often because of the dusty toys, and 'cos the children won't come to her shop to buy. Some children are very mean; I don't like some children a bit."
"I am glad you're pleased about the Holmans, little woman."
"Of course I am, and aren't you. Don't you like to make people happy?"
Again Lord Grayleigh moved restlessly.
"Have you any other notes for this book?" he said.
"Of course I have. There's the one who wants to marry the other one.
I'm under a vow not to mention names, but they want to marry _so_ badly, and they will in double quick time if there's gold in the mine.
Will you put in your note-book 'Gold to be kept for the one who wants to marry the other,' will you, Lord Grayleigh?"
"I have entered it," said Lord Grayleigh, suppressing a smile.
"And mother, of course," continued Sibyl, "wants lots of money, and there's my nurse, her eyes are failing, she would like enough gold to keep her from mending stockings or doing any more fine darning, and I'd like Watson to have some. Do you know, Lord Grayleigh, that Watson is engaged to be married? He is really, truly."
"I am afraid, Sibyl, I do not know who Watson is."
"Don't you? How funny; he is our footman. I'm awfully fond of him. He is full of the best impulses, is Watson, and he is engaged to a very nice girl in the cookery line. Don't you think it's very sensible of Watson to engage himself to a girl in the cookery line?"
"I think it is thoroughly sensible, but now I must really go."
"But you won't forget all the messages? You have put them all down in your note-book. You won't forget any of the people who want gold out of the Lombard Deeps?"
"No, I'll be certain to remember every single one of them."
"Then that's all right, and you'll come to darling mother's bazaar?"
"I'll come."
"I am so glad. You do make me happy. I like big-wigs awfully."
CHAPTER XVIII.
A few days before the bazaar Lady Helen Douglas arrived at Silverbel.
She had returned from Scotland on purpose. A letter from Lord Grayleigh induced her to do so. He wrote to Lady Helen immediately after seeing Sibyl.
"I don't like the child's look," he wrote; "I have not the least idea what the doctors have said of her, but when I spoke on the subject to her mother, she shirked it. There is not the least doubt that Mrs.
Ogilvie can never see a quarter of an inch beyond her own selfish fancies. It strikes me very forcibly that the child is in a precarious state. I can never forgive myself, for she met with the accident on the pony I gave her. She likes you; go to her if you can."
It so happened that by the very same post there had come an urgent appeal from Mrs. Ogilvie.
"If you cannot come to the bazaar," she wrote to Lady Helen, "it will be a failure. Come you must. Your presence is essential, because you are pretty and well born, and you will also act as a lure to another person who can help me in various ways. I, of course, allude to our mutual friend, Jim Rochester."
Now Lady Helen, even with the attraction of seeing Mr. Rochester so soon again, would not have put off a series of visits which she was about to make, had not Lord Grayleigh's letter decided her. She therefore arrived at Silverbel on the 22d of September, and was quickly conducted to Sibyl's room. She had not seen Sibyl for a couple of months. When last they had met, the child had been radiant with health and spirits. She was radiant still, but that quick impulsive life had been toned down to utter quiet. The lower part of the little body was paralyzed, the paralysis was creeping gradually up and up. It was but a question of time for the loving little heart to be still for ever.
Sibyl cried with delight when she saw Lady Helen.
"Such a lot of big-wigs are coming to-morrow," she said, "but Lord Grayleigh does not come until the day of the bazaar, so you are quite the first. You'll come and see me very, very often, won't you?"
"Of course I will, Sibyl. The fact is I have come on purpose to see you. I should not have come to the bazaar but for you. Lord Grayleigh wrote to me and said you were not well, and he thought you loved me, little Sib, and that it would cheer you up to see me."
"Oh, you are sweet," answered the child, "and I do, indeed I do love you. But you ought to have come for the bazaar as well as for me. It is darling mother's splendid work of charity. She wants to help a lot of little sick children and sick grown up people: isn't it dear of her?"
"Well, I am interested in the bazaar," said Lady Helen, ignoring the subject of Mrs. Ogilvie's n.o.ble action.
"It is so inciting all about it," continued the little girl, "and I can see the marquee quite splendidly from here, and mother flitting about. Isn't mother pretty, isn't she quite sweet? She is going to have the most lovely dress for the bazaar, a sort of silvery white; she will look like an angel--but then she is an angel, isn't she, Lady Helen?"
Lady Helen bent and kissed Sibyl on her soft forehead. "You must not talk too much and tire yourself," she said; "let me talk to you. I have plenty of nice things to say."
"Stories?" said Sibyl.
"Yes, I will tell you stories."
"Thank you; I do love 'em. Did you ever tell them to Mr. Rochester?"
"I have not seen him lately."
"You'll be married to him soon, I know you will."
"We need not talk about that now, need we? I want to do something to amuse you."
"It's odd how weak my voice has grown," said Sibyl, with a laugh.
"Mother says I am getting better, and perhaps I am, only somehow I do feel weak. Do you know, mother wanted me to dress dolls for her, but I couldn't. Nursie did 'em. There's one big beautiful doll with wings; Nurse made the wings, but she can't put them on right; will you put them on proper, Lady Helen?"
"I should like to," replied Lady Helen; "I have a natural apt.i.tude for dressing dolls."
"The big doll with the wings is in that box over there. Take it out and sit down by the sofa so that I can see you, and put the wings on properly. There's plenty of white gauze and wire. I want you to make the doll as like an angel as you can."
Lady Helen commenced her pretty work. Sibyl watched her, not caring to talk much now, for Lady Helen seemed too busy to answer.
"It rests me to have you in the room," said the child, "you are like this room. Do you know Miss Winstead has given it such a funny name."
"What is that, Sibyl?"
"She calls it the Chamber of Peace--isn't it sweet of her?"
"The name is a beautiful one, and so is the room," answered Lady Helen.
"I do wish Mr. Rochester was here," was Sibyl's next remark.
"He will come to the bazaar, dear."
"And then, perhaps, I'll see him. I want to see him soon, I have something I'd like to say."