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"Miss Winstead," she said, "I have just been sitting with the child.
She seems much better."
"Do you think so?" replied Miss Winstead shortly.
"I do. Why do you stare at me in that disapproving manner? You really are all most unnatural. Who should know of the health of her child if her own mother does not? The little darling is recovering fast--I have just been having a most interesting talk with her. She would like me to have the bazaar."
"The bazaar!" echoed Miss Winstead. "Surely you don't mean to have it here?"
"Yes, here. The child is greatly interested. She would like me to have it, and I am going to send out invitations at once. It will be held on the 24th and 25th of the month."
"I would not, if I were you," said Miss Winstead slowly. "You know what the doctors have said."
Mrs. Ogilvie first turned white, and then her face grew red and angry.
"I don't believe a single word of what they say," she retorted with some pa.s.sion. "The child looks better every day. What the dear little thing wants is rousing. The bazaar will do her no end of good. Mark my words, Miss Winstead, we shall have Sibyl on her feet again by the 24th."
"You forget," said Miss Winstead slowly, "the _Sahara_ is due in England about that date. Mr. Ogilvie will be back. He will not be prepared for--for what he has to see."
"I know quite well that my husband will return about then, but I don't understand what you mean by saying that he will not be prepared.
There will be nothing but joyful tidings to give him. The child nearly herself and the bazaar at its height. Delightful! Now pray, my good creature, don't croak any more; I must rush up to town this afternoon--there is a great deal to see about."
CHAPTER XVII.
Lord Grayleigh was so anxious about the Syndicate that he would not go to Scotland for the shooting as usual. Later on he would attend to his pleasures, but not now. Later on when Ogilvie had returned, and the company was finally floated, and the shares taken up, he would relax his efforts, but just at present he was engaged over the biggest thing of his life. He was cheerful, however, and full of hope. He even thanked Providence for having aided all his exertions. So blinded was he by the glare of avarice and the desire for adding wealth to wealth that Ogilvie's cablegram set every anxiety at rest. He even believed that the mine was as full of gold as the cablegram seemed to indicate.
Yes, everything was going well. The Lombard Deeps Company would be floated in a short time, the Board of Directors was complete.
Ogilvie's cablegram was shown to a few of the longest-headed men in the financial world, and his report was anxiously looked for. Rumors carefully worded got by degrees into the public press, the ominous whispers were absolutely silenced: all, in short, was ripe for action.
Nothing definite, however, could be done until the full report of the mine arrived.
Lord Grayleigh was fond of saying to himself: "From the tone of Ogilvie's cablegram the mine must be all that we desire, the ore rich, the veins good, the extent of the wealth unlimited. It will be nice,"
Lord Grayleigh reflected, "to be rich and also honest at the same time." He was a man with many kindly impulses, but he had never been much troubled by the voice of conscience. So he went backward and forward to his lovely home in the country, and played with his children, and enjoyed life generally.
On a certain day in the first week of September he received a letter from Mrs. Ogilvie; it ran as follows:--
"MY DEAR LORD GRAYLEIGH,
"You have not, I hope, forgotten your promise to be, as Sibyl said, one of the big-wigs at my bazaar."
"But I _had_ forgotten it," muttered Grayleigh to himself. "That woman is, in my opinion, a poor, vain, frivolous creature. Why did she hamper Ogilvie with that place in his absence? Now, forsooth, she must play at charity. When that sort of woman does that sort of thing she is contemptible."
He lowered his eyes again, and went on reading the letter.
"I was obliged to postpone the original date," continued his correspondent, "but I have quite fixed now that the bazaar shall be held at our new lovely place on the 24th. You, I know, will not disappoint me. You will be sure to be present. I hope to clear a large sum for the Home for Incurables at Watleigh. Have you heard how badly that poor dear charity needs funds just now? If you hesitate for a moment to come and help, just cast a thought on the poor sufferers there, the children, who will never know the blessing of strength again. Think what it is to lighten the burden of their last days, and do not hesitate to lend your hand to so worthy a work. I have advertised you in the papers as our princ.i.p.al supporter and patron, and the sooner we see you at Silverbel the better.
"With kind regards, I remain, "Yours sincerely, "MILDRED OGILVIE.
"P.S.--By the way, have you heard that our dear little Sibyl has met with rather a nasty accident? She fell off that pony you gave her. I must be frank, Lord Grayleigh, and say that I never did approve of the child's riding, particularly in her father's absence. She had a very bad tumble, and hurt her back, and has since been confined to her couch. I have had the best advice, and the doctors have been very silly and gloomy in their reports. Now, for my part, I have not the slightest faith in doctors, they are just as often proved wrong as right. The child is getting much better, but she is still, of course, confined to her bed. She would send you her love if she knew I was writing."
Lord Grayleigh let this letter drop on to the table beside him. He sat quite still for a moment, then he lit a cigarette and began to pace the room. After a pause he took up Mrs. Ogilvie's letter and re-read the postscript.
After having read it a second time he rang his bell sharply. A servant appeared.
"I am going to town by the next train; have the trap round," was Grayleigh's direction.
He did go to town by the next train, his children seeing him off.
"Where are you going, father?" called out Freda. "You promised you would take us for a long, long drive this afternoon. Oh, this is disappointing. Are you coming back at all to-night?"
"I don't think so, Freda. By the way, have you heard that your little friend Sibyl has met with an accident?"
"Has she?" replied Freda. "I am very sorry. I like Sibyl very much."
"So do I!" said Gus, coming up, "she's the best sort of girl I ever came across, not like an ordinary girl--quite plucky, you know. What sort of accident did she have, father?"
"I don't know; I am going to see. I am afraid it has something to do with the pony I gave her. Well, good-by, youngsters; if I don't return by the last train to-night, I'll be back early to-morrow, and we can have our drive then."
Lord Grayleigh drove at once to Victoria Station, and took the next train to Richmond. It was a two-mile drive from there to Silverbel. He arrived at Silverbel between five and six in the afternoon. Mrs.
Ogilvie was pacing about her garden, talking to two ladies who had come to call on her. When she saw Lord Grayleigh driving up the avenue, she uttered a cry of delight, apologized to her friends, and ran to meet him--both her hands extended.
"How good of you, how more than good of you," she said. "This is just what I might have expected from you, Lord Grayleigh. You received my letter and you have come to answer it in person."
"I have come, as you say, to answer it in person. How is Sibyl?"
"Oh, better. I mean she is about the same, but she really is going on very nicely. She does not suffer the slightest pain, and----"
"Can I see her?"
"Of course you can. I will take you to her. Dear little thing, she will be quite delighted, you are a prime favorite of hers. But first, what about the bazaar? Ah, naughty man! you need not think you are going to get out of it, for you are, as Sibyl says, one of the big-wigs. We cannot do without big-wigs at our bazaar."
"Well, Mrs. Ogilvie, I will come if I can. I cannot distinctly promise at the present moment, for I may possibly have to go to Scotland; but the chances are that I shall be at Grayleigh Manor, and if so I can come."
Mrs. Ogilvie was walking with Lord Grayleigh down one of the corridors which led to the Chamber of Peace while this conversation was going on. As he uttered the last words she flung open the door.
"One of the big-wigs, Sibyl, come to see you," she said, in a playful voice.
Lord Grayleigh saw a white little face with very blue eyes turned eagerly in his direction. He did not know why, but as he looked at the child something clutched at his heart with a strange fear. He turned to Mrs. Ogilvie and said,
"Rest a.s.sured that I will come." He then went over, bent toward Sibyl and took her little white hand.
"I am sorry to see you like this," he said. "What has happened to you, my little girl?"
"Oh, nothing much," answered Sibyl, "I just had a fall, but I am quite all right now and I am awfully happy. Did you really come to see me?
It is good of you. May I talk to Lord Grayleigh all by myself, mother darling?"