Daddy's Girl. Meade L. T.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ did not even notice Lord Grayleigh, who stood and watched this little scene with an amused face. Mrs. Ogilvie was by no means pleased.

      “What do you mean, Sibyl,” she said, “by wearing that disgraceful frock? Why did nurse put it into your trunk? And you know I do not wish you to climb trees. You are an extremely naughty girl. No, Lord Grayleigh, I will not introduce my little daughter to you now. When you are properly dressed, Sibyl, and know how to behave yourself, you shall have the honor of shaking hands with Lord Grayleigh. Go into the house, now, I am ashamed of you.”

      Sibyl turned first red and then white.

      “Is that Lord Grayleigh?” she whispered.

      “Yes, my dear, but I shall not answer any of your other questions at present. I am extremely displeased with you.”

      “I am sorry you are angry, mother; but may I – may I say one thing, just one, afore I go?”

      Mrs. Ogilvie was about to hustle the child off, when Lord Grayleigh interfered. “Do let her speak,” he said; “she looks a most charming little maid. For my part I like children best in deshabille. What is it, little woman?”

      “It’s that I don’t want to shake hands with you – never, never!” answered Sibyl, and she turned her back on the astonished nobleman, and marched off in the direction of the house.

      Mrs. Ogilvie turned to apologize.

      “I am terribly ashamed of Sibyl, she is the most extraordinary child,” she said. “What can have possessed her to put on that frock, and why did she speak to you in that strange, rude way?” Here Mrs. Ogilvie uttered a sigh. “I fear it is her father’s doing,” she continued, “he makes her most eccentric. I do hope you will overlook her naughty words. The moment I go into the house I shall speak to her, and also to nurse for allowing her to wear that disgraceful frock.”

      “I don’t think your nurse is to blame,” said Lord Grayleigh. “I have a keen eye for dress, and have a memory of that special frock. It happens to possess a green stain in the back which I am not likely to forget. I think my Freda wore it a good deal last summer, and I remember the occasion when the green stain was indelibly fixed upon it. You must know, Mrs. Ogilvie, that my three children are imps, and it was the impiest of the imps’ frocks your little girl happened to be wearing. But what a handsome little creature she is! A splendid face. How I have come to fall under her displeasure, however, is a mystery to me.”

      “Oh, you can never account for Sibyl’s whims,” said Mrs. Ogilvie; “it is all her father’s fault. It is a great trial to me, I assure you.”

      “I should be very proud of that child if I were you,” answered Lord Grayleigh. “She has a particularly frank, fine face.”

      “Oh, she is handsome enough,” answered Mrs. Ogilvie. “But what she will grow up to, heaven only knows. She has the strangest ideas on all sorts of subjects. She absolutely believes that her father and I are perfect – could you credit it? At the same time she is a very naughty child herself. I will go into the house, now, and give her a talking to.”

      “Don’t scold her, poor little thing,” said Lord Grayleigh. He was a kind-hearted man in the main. “For my part,” he continued, “I like naughty children; I must force her confidence presently. She has quite roused my curiosity. But now, Mrs. Ogilvie, to turn to other matters, what can we do to persuade your husband to alter his mind? You know, of course, that I have asked him to assay the Lombard Deeps Mine?”

      “I do know it,” answered Mrs. Ogilvie, the color flushing into her face. “Philip is too extraordinary at times. For my part, I really do not know how to thank you; please believe that I am altogether on your side. If only we could persuade that eccentric husband of mine to change his mind.”

      “He is a strange fellow,” answered Lord Grayleigh slowly; “but, do you know, I think all the more of him for a letter I received a few days ago. At the same time, it will be prejudicial to our interests if he should not act as engineer in this new undertaking. He is the one man the public absolutely trusts, and of course – ”

      “Why do you think more of him for refusing an advantageous offer?”

      “I don’t know that I can explain. Money is not everything – at least, to some people. Shall we go into the house? I need not say that I am glad you are on our side, and doubtless your husband’s scruples” – Lord Grayleigh laid the slightest emphasis on the word, and made it, even to the obtuse ears of his hearer, sound offensive – “even your husband’s scruples of conscience may be overcome by judicious management. A wife can do much on occasions of this sort, and also a friend. He and I are more than acquaintances – we are friends. I have a hearty liking for Ogilvie. It is a disappointment not to have him here, but I hope to have the pleasure of lunching with him on Monday. Trust me to do what I can to further your interests and his own on that occasion. Now shall we go into the house? You will like to rest before dinner.”

      Mrs. Ogilvie often liked to affect weariness, it suited her peculiar style of beauty to look languid. She went slowly to her room. Her maid, Hortense, helped her to take off her travelling dress, and to put on a teagown before she lay down on the sofa. She then told the girl to leave her.

      When alone Mrs. Ogilvie thought rapidly and deeply. What was the matter with Philip? What did Lord Grayleigh mean by talking of scruples? But she was not going to worry her head on that subject. Philip must not be quixotic, he must accept the good things the gods sent him. Additional wealth would add so immensely to their happiness.

      “Money is everything,” she thought, “whatever Lord Grayleigh may say. Those who refuse it are fools, and worse. Lord Grayleigh and I must bring Philip to his senses.”

      She moved restlessly on her sofa, and looked across the comfortable room.

      With a little more wealth she could hold her own with her friends and acquaintances, and present a good figure in that world of society which was her one idea of heaven. Above all things, debts, which came between her and perfect bliss, could be cleared off. Her creditors would not wait for payment much longer, but if Philip assayed the new mine, he would be handsomely paid for his pains, and all her own cares would take to themselves wings and fly away. Why did he hesitate? How tiresome he was! Surely his life had not been so immaculate up to the present that he should hesitate thus when the golden opportunity to secure a vast fortune arrived.

      Ogilvie came of one of the best old families across the border, and had a modest competence of his own handed down to him from a long line of honorable ancestors. He had also inherited a certain code which he could not easily forget. He called it a code of honor, and Mrs. Ogilvie, alas! did not understand it. She reflected over the situation now, and grew restless. If Philip was really such a goose as to refuse his present chance, she would never forgive him. She would bring up to him continually the golden opportunity he had let slip, and weary his very soul. She was the sort of soft, pretty woman who could nag a man to the verge of distraction. She knew that inestimable art to perfection. She felt, as she lay on the sofa and toyed with the ribbons of her pretty and expensive teagown, that she had her weapons ready to hand. Then, with an irritated flash, she thought of the child. Of course the child was nice, handsome, and her own; Sibyl was very lucky to have at least one parent who would not spoil her. But was she not being spoiled? Were there not some things intolerable about her?

      “May I come in, Mumsy, or are you too tired?” There was something in the quality of the voice at the door which caused Mrs. Ogilvie’s callous heart to beat quicker for a moment, then she said in an irritated tone —

      “Oh, come in, of course; I want to speak to you.”

СКАЧАТЬ