Daddy's Girl Part 8

"Sibyl is peculiar," said Ogilvie, and his eyes gleamed with a flash of the same light in them which Sibyl's wore at intervals.

"She is a handsome child, it is a pity she is your only one, Ogilvie."

"Not at all," answered Ogilvie; "I never wish for another, she satisfies me completely."

"Well, to turn to the present matter," said Lord Grayleigh; "you will reconsider your refusal?"

"I would rather not."

"But if I as a personal favor beg you to do so."

"There is not the slightest doubt that the pay tempts me," said Ogilvie; "it would be a kindness on your part to close the matter now finally, to relieve me from temptation. But suppose I were to--to yield, what would the shareholders say?"

"They would be managed. The shareholders will expect to pay the engineer who a.s.says the mine for them handsomely."

Ogilvie stood in a dubious att.i.tude, Grayleigh went up and laid his hand on his shoulder.

"I will a.s.sume," he said, "that you get over scruples which after all may have no foundation, for the mine may be all that we wish it to be.

What I want to suggest is this. Someone must go to Australia to a.s.say the Lombard Deeps. If you will not take the post we must get someone else to step into your shoes. The new claim was discovered by the merest accident, and the reports state it to be one of the richest that has ever been panned out. Of course that is as it may be. We will present you, if you give a good a.s.say, with five hundred shares in the new syndicate. You can wait until the shares go up, and then sell out.

You will clear thousands of pounds. We will also pay your expenses and compensate you handsomely for the loss of your time. This is Monday; we want you to start on Sat.u.r.day. Give me your decision on Wednesday morning. I won't take a refusal now."

Ogilvie was silent; his face was very white, and his lips were compressed together. Soon afterward the two men parted.

Lord Grayleigh returned to Grayleigh Manor by a late train, and Ogilvie went back to his empty house. Amongst other letters which awaited him was one with a big blot on the envelope. This blot was surrounded by a circle in red ink, and was evidently of great moment to the writer. The letter was addressed to "Philip Ogilvie, Esq.," in a square, firm, childish hand, and the great blot stood a little away from the final Esquire. It gave the envelope an altogether striking and unusual appearance. The flap was sealed with violet wax, and had an impression on it which spelt Sibyl. Ogilvie, when he received this letter, took it up tenderly, looked at the blot on the cover of the envelope, glanced behind him in a shamefaced way, pressed his lips to the violet seal which contained his little daughter's name, then sitting down in his chair, he opened the envelope.

Sibyl was very good at expressing her feelings in words, but as yet she was a poor scribe, and her orthography left much to be desired.

Her letter was somewhat short, and ran as follows:--

"DADDY DEAR,--Here's a blot to begin, and the blot means a kiss. I will put sum more at the end of the letter. Pleas kiss all the kisses for they com from the verry botom of my hart. I have tried Daddy to be good cos of you sinse I left home, but I am afraid I have been rather norty. Mother gets more purfect evry day. She is bewtiful and humbel. Mother said she wasn't purfect but she is, isn't she father? I miss you awful, speshul at nights, cos mother thinks its good for me not to lie awake for her to come and kiss me. But you never think that and you always com, and I thank G.o.d so much for having gived you to me father. Your SIBYL."

"Father, what does 'scroopolus' mean? I want to know speshul.--SIB."

The letter finished with many of these strange irregular blots, which Ogilvie kissed tenderly, and then folded up the badly-spelt little epistle, and slipped it into his pocket-book. Then he drew his chair forward to where his big desk stood, and, leaning his elbows on it, pa.s.sed his hands through his thick, short hair. He was puzzled as he had never been in all his life before. Should he go, or should he stay? Should he yield to temptation, and become rich and prosperous, or should he retain his honor, and face the consequences? He knew well--he had seen them coming for a long time--the consequences he was about to face would not be pleasant. They spelt very little short of ruin. He suddenly opened a drawer, and took from its depths a sheaf of accounts which different tradespeople had sent in to his wife. Mrs.

Ogilvie was hopelessly reckless and extravagant. Money in her hand was like water; it flowed away as she touched it. Her jeweler's bill alone amounted to thousands of pounds. If Ogilvie accepted the offer now made to him he might satisfy these pressing creditors, and not deprive Sibyl of her chance of an income by-and-by. Sibyl! As the thought of her face came to him, he groaned inwardly. He wished sometimes that G.o.d had never given him such a treasure.

"I am unworthy of my little Angel," he said to himself. Then he started up and began to pace the room. "And yet I would not be without her for all the wealth in the world, for all the greatness and all the fame," he cried; "she is more to me than everything else on earth. If ever she finds out what I really am, I believe I shall go raving mad.

I must keep a straight front, must keep as clean as I can for Sibyl's sake. O G.o.d, help me to be worthy of her!"

He read the badly-spelt, childish letter once again, and then he thrust the bills out of sight and thought of other liabilities which he himself had incurred, till his thoughts returned to the tempting offer made to him.

"Shall I risk it?" he said to himself. "Shall I risk the chance of the mine being really good, and go to Australia and see if it is as rich as the prospectuses claim it to be. But suppose it is not? Well, in that case I am bound to make it appear so. Five ounces of gold to every ton; it seems _bona fide_ enough. It it is _bona fide_, why should not I have my share of the wealth? It is as legitimate a way of earning money as any other," and he swerved again in the direction of Lord Grayleigh's offer.

Lord Grayleigh had given him until Wednesday to decide.

"I am sorry to seem to force your hand," that n.o.bleman had said to him at parting, "but if you distinctly refuse we must send another man, and whoever goes must start on Sat.u.r.day."

A trip to Australia, how he would enjoy it! To be quite away from London and his present conventional life. The only pain was the thought of parting with Sibyl. But he would do his business quickly, and come back and clasp her in his arms, and kiss her again and look into her eyes and--turn round; yes, he would turn short round and choose the right path, and be what she really thought him, a good man.

In a very small degree, he would be the sort of man his child imagined him.

As these thoughts flashed before his mind he forgot that dinner was cooling in the dining-room, that he himself had eaten nothing for some hours, and that a curious faintness which he had experienced once or twice before had stolen over him. He did not like it nor quite understand it. He rose, crossed the room, and was about to ring the bell when a sudden spasm of most acute pain pa.s.sed like a knife through his chest. He was in such agony that for a moment he was unable to stir. The sharpness of the pain soon went off, and he sank into a chair faint and trembling. He was now well enough to ring his bell. He did so, and the footman appeared.

"Bring me brandy, and be quick," said Ogilvie.

The man started when he saw his face. He soon returned with the stimulant, which Ogilvie drank off. The agony in his chest subsided by degrees, and he was able to go into the dining-room and even to eat.

He had never before had such terrible and severe pain, and now he was haunted by the memory of his father, who had died suddenly of acute disease of the heart.

After dinner he went, as usual, to his club, where he met a friend whom he liked. They chatted about many things, and the fears and apprehensions of the puzzled man dropped gradually from him. It was past midnight when Ogilvie returned home. He had now forgotten all about the pain in his chest. It had completely pa.s.sed away. He felt as well and vigorous as ever. In the night, however, he slept badly, had tiresome dreams, and was much haunted by the thought of his child.

If by any chance he were to die now! If, for instance, he died on his way to Australia, he would leave Sibyl badly provided for. A good deal of his private means had already been swallowed up by his own and his wife's extravagant living, and what was left of it had been settled absolutely on his wife at the time of their marriage. Although, of course, this money at her mother's death would revert to Sibyl, he had a presentiment, which he knew was founded on a firm basis, that Mrs.

Ogilvie might be careless, inconsiderate--not kind, in the true sense of the word, to the little girl. If it came to be a tussle between Sibyl's needs and her mother's fancied necessities, Ogilvie's intuitions told him truly that Sibyl would go to the wall.

"I must do something better than that for my little daughter," thought the man. "I will not go to Australia until I have decided that point.

If I go, I shall make terms, and it will be for Sibyl's sake."

But again that uncomfortable, tiresome conscience of his began to speak; and that conscience told him that if he went to Australia for the purpose of blinding the eyes of possible shareholders in London, he would in reality be doing the very worst possible thing for his child.

He tossed about between one temptation and another for the remainder of the night, and arose in the morning unrefreshed. As he was dressing, however, a thought came to him which he hailed as a possible relief. Why not do the right thing right from the beginning; tell Grayleigh that the proposed commission to visit Australia was altogether distasteful to him; that he washed his hands of the great new syndicate; that they might sweep in their gold, but he would have nothing to say to it? At the same time he might insure his life for ten thousand pounds. It would be a heavy interest to pay, no doubt, and they would probably have to live in a smaller house, and he and his wife would have to put down their expenses in various ways, but he would have the comfort of knowing that whatever happened Sibyl would not be without means of subsistence.

"When I have done that, and absolutely provided for her future, I shall have a great sense of rest," thought the man. "I will go and see Dr. Rashleigh, of the Crown and Life Insurance Company, as soon as ever I get to the City. That is a happy thought."

He smiled cheerfully to himself, ran downstairs, and ate a hearty breakfast. A letter from his wife lay upon his plate. He did not even open it. He thrust it into his pocket and went off to the City, telling his servant as he did so that he would be back to dinner.

As soon as he got to his office he read his letters, gave his clerks directions, and went at once to see Dr. Rashleigh, of the Insurance Company.

Rashleigh happened to be one of his special friends, and he knew his hours. It was a little unusual to expect him to examine him for an insurance without an appointment; but he believed, in view of his possible visit to Australia, that Rashleigh would be willing to overlook ceremony.

He arrived at the office, saw one of the clerks downstairs, heard that Rashleigh was in and would soon be disengaged, and presently was shown into the doctor's consulting room.

Rashleigh was a grey-haired man of about sixty years of age. He spent a couple of hours every day in the consulting room of the Crown and Life Insurance Company. He rose now, and extended his hand with pleasure when Ogilvie appeared.

"My dear Ogilvie, and what do you want with me? Have you at last listened to my entreaties that you should insure your life in a first-cla.s.s office?"

"Something of the kind," said Ogilvie, forcing a smile, for again that agony which had come over him yesterday a.s.sailed him. He knew that his heart was throbbing faintly, and he remembered once more that his father had died of heart disease. Oh, it was all nonsense; of course he had nothing to fear. He was a man in his prime, not much over thirty--he was all right.

Rashleigh asked him a few questions.

"I may have to go to Australia rather suddenly," said Ogilvie, "and I should like first to insure my life. I want to settle the money on my child before I leave home."

"How large a sum do you propose to insure for?" asked the doctor.

"I have given the particulars to the clerk downstairs. I should like to insure for ten thousand pounds."

"Well, I daresay that can be managed. You are an excellent client, and quite a young man. Now just let me sound your lungs, and listen to your heart."

Ogilvie removed his necktie, unb.u.t.toned his shirt, and placed himself in the doctor's hands.

Dr. Rashleigh made his examination without comment, slowly and carefully. At last it was over.

"Well?" said Ogilvie, just glancing at him. "It's all right, I suppose."