Daddy's Girl Part 13

"Do you want me to say anything special?"

"Nothing special; write to him from your heart, that is all." And then Lord Grayleigh turned away in the direction of his stables. He ordered the groom to saddle his favorite horse, and was soon careering across country. Sibyl's letter to her father was short, badly spelt, and brimful of love. Mrs. Ogilvie's was also short, and brimful of worldliness.

The two letters, each as wide as the poles apart in spirit and in intention, met in the post-box, and were each carried as rapidly as mail trains could take them to the metropolis.

On the next morning these letters lay beside Philip Ogilvie's plate at breakfast. Sibyl's was well blotted and sealed with her favorite violet seal. Mrs. Ogilvie's was trim, neat, and without a blemish.

Ogilvie read them both, first the mother's, then the child's. Sibyl's was almost all kisses: hardly any words, just blots and kisses.

Ogilvie did not press his lips to the kisses this time. He read the letter quickly, thrust it into his pocket, and once more turned his attention to what his wife had said. He smiled sarcastically as he read. The evening before he had written Lord Grayleigh accepting the proffered engagement. The die was cast.

CHAPTER VII.

The following letter reached Philip Ogilvie late that same evening:--

MY DEAR OGILVIE,

Your decision is naturally all that can be desired, and I only hope you may never live to regret it. I have, most unfortunately, given my ankle a bad sprain. I had a fall yesterday when out riding, and am obliged to lie up for a day or two. There is much that I should wish to talk over with you before you go to Queensland. Can you come down here to-morrow by the first train? I will not detain you an hour longer than I can help. All other arrangements are in the hands of my agents, Messrs. Spielmann & Co.

Yours sincerely, GRAYLEIGH.

Ogilvie read this letter quickly. He knit his brow as he did so. It annoyed him a good deal.

"I did not want to go there," he thought. "I am doing this princ.i.p.ally for the sake of the child. I can arrange all financial matters through Spielmann. Grayleigh wants this thing done; I alone can do it to his satisfaction and to the satisfaction of the public. He must pay me--what he pays will be Sibyl's, the provision for her future. But I don't want to see the child--until all this dirty work is over. If I come back things may be altered. G.o.d only knows what may have occurred. The mine may be all right, there may be deliverance, but I didn't want to see her before I go. It is possible that I may not be able to keep my composure. There are a hundred things which make an interview between the child and me undesirable."

He thought and thought, and at last rose from his chair and began to pace the room. He had not suffered from his heart since his interview with Dr. Rashleigh. He gave it but scant consideration now.

"If I have a fatal disease it behooves me to act as if I were absolutely sound," he said to himself. And he had so acted after the first shock of Rashleigh's verdict had pa.s.sed off. But he did not like the thought of seeing Sibyl. Still, Grayleigh's letter could not be lightly disregarded. If Grayleigh wished to see him and could not come to town, it was essential that he should go to him.

He rang his bell and sent off a telegram to the effect that he would arrive at Grayleigh Manor at an early hour on the following day.

This telegram Lord Grayleigh showed to Mrs. Ogilvie before she went to bed that night.

"He has consented to go, as of course you are well aware," said Lord Grayleigh, "and he comes here to see me to-morrow. But I would not say anything about his departure for Queensland to your little daughter, until after his visit. He may have something to say in the matter. Let him, if he wishes it, be the one to break it to her."

"But why should not the child know? How ridiculous you are!"

"That is exactly as her father pleases," replied Lord Grayleigh. "I have a kind of intuition that he may want to tell her himself. Anyhow, I trust you will oblige me in the matter."

Mrs. Ogilvie pouted. She was not enjoying herself as much at Grayleigh Manor as she had expected, and, somehow or other, she felt that she was in disgrace. This was by no means an agreeable sensation. She wondered why she was not in higher spirits. To visit Australia nowadays was a mere nothing. Her husband would be back again, a rich man, in six months at the farthest. During those six months she herself might have a good time. There were several country houses where she might visit. Her visiting list was already nearly full. She would take Sibyl with her, although Sibyl sometimes was the reverse of comforting; but it looked effective to see the handsome mother and the beautiful child together, and Sibyl, when she did not go too far, said very pathetic and pretty things about her. Oh yes, she and her little daughter would have a good time, while the husband and father was earning money for them in Australia: while the husband and father was raking in gold, they might really enjoy themselves.

As she thought of this, Mrs. Ogilvie felt so light-hearted that she could have skipped. Those debts which had weighed so on what she was pleased to call her conscience, would be liquidated once and for all, and in the future she would have plenty of money. It was the be-all of existence to her feeble soul. She would have it in abundance in the time which lay before her.

"Philip is a wise man. It was very silly of him to hesitate and make a fuss," she thought; "but he has decided wisely, as I knew he would. I shall give him a kiss when I see him, and tell him that I am quite pleased with him."

She went to bed, therefore, cheerful, and the next morning put on her very prettiest dress in order to meet her husband.

Ogilvie walked from the little station, which was only half a mile away. Mrs. Ogilvie, going slowly up the avenue, saw him coming to meet her. She stood under the shade of a great overhanging beech tree, and waited until he appeared.

"Well, Mildred, and how are you?" said her husband. He took her hand, and, bending forward, brushed the lightest of kisses against her cheek.

"Quite well," she replied. "Is not the day pleasant? I am so glad about everything, Phil. But you don't look quite the thing yourself.

Have you taken cold or suffered from one of those nasty rheumatic attacks?"

"I am all right," he answered shortly. "I have a very few moments to be here, as I want to catch the 12.30 back. Do you know if Lord Grayleigh is anywhere to be found?"

"I saw him half an hour ago. I think you will find him in the smoking-room. He is expecting you."

"And"--Ogilvie glanced to right and left--"the child?"

"She is with the other children. Shall I send her to you?"

"Not yet."

"It is so nice of you to go, Phil; it will do you no end of good. You will enjoy your voyage," continued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning now and laying her hand on her husband's arm.

Mr. Rochester, who was quite a young man himself, and was deeply occupied at this time with thoughts of love and marriage, happened to see the pair as they sauntered by together. He knew nothing, of course, of Ogilvie's intended visit to Australia, nor was he in any sense of the word behind the scenes. On the contrary, he thought that Mrs. Ogilvie and her husband made a perfect picture of beautiful love between husband and wife.

"It is good of you," pursued Mrs. Ogilvie, turning once more to her husband. "I am greatly obliged. I am more than obliged, I am relieved and--and satisfied. We shall have a happy life together when you come back. There are, of course, little matters we ought to talk over before we go."

"Debts, you mean," said Ogilvie, bluntly. "I opened your bills in your absence. They will be----"

"Oh, Phil!" Mrs. Ogilvie's face turned very white.

"I will speak about them before I leave," he continued. "Now I must find Grayleigh."

"Is it true that you are going on Sat.u.r.day?"

"Quite true."

"Had I not better return to town with you? There will be several things to put in order."

"I can write to you, Mildred. Now that you are here you had better stay here. The change will be good for you. You need not return to the house in town before next week."

"If you really don't want me, I am certainly enjoying myself here."

"I don't want you," he replied, but as he spoke his grey eyes looked wistful. He turned for an instant and glanced at her. He noted the sunny, lovely hair, the agile, youthful, rounded figure. Once he had loved her pa.s.sionately.

"Sibyl will be delighted to see you," continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "She has been, on the whole, behaving very nicely. Of course, making both friends and foes, as is her usual impetuous way."

"That reminds me," said Ogilvie. "I shall see Sibyl before I leave; but that reminds me."

"Of what?"

"I do not wish her to be told."

"Told what? What do you mean? My dear Phil, you are eccentric."