Daddy's Girl Part 15

"This clinches matters," he said, and he gave a significant glance at Grayleigh.

"You will see Spielmann for all the rest," was Grayleigh's answer; "and now, if you must catch the train----"

"Yes, I must; good-by."

Lord Grayleigh walked with him as far as the porch.

"Have you seen your wife?" he asked. "Can we not induce you to wait for the next train and stay to lunch?"

"No, thanks; it is impossible. Oh, I see you have sent for the dog-cart; I will drive to the station."

Just then Sibyl, Gus and Freda appeared in view. Sibyl was extremely dirty. She had been climbing trees to good effect that morning, and there was a rent in front of her dress and even a very apparent hole in one of her stockings. She and Gus were arguing somewhat fiercely, and the cap she wore was pushed back, and her golden hair was all in a tangle. Suddenly she raised her eyes, caught sight of her father, and, with a shout something between a whoop and a cry, flung herself into his arms.

"Daddy, daddy!" she cried.

He clasped her tightly to his breast. He did not notice the shabby dress nor the torn stocking; he only saw the eager little face, the eyes brimful with love; he only felt the beating of the warm, warm heart.

"Why, dad, now I shall be happy. Where are you, Gus? Gus, this is father; Gus, come here!"

But at a nod from Lord Grayleigh both Gus and Freda had vanished round the corner.

"I will say good-by, if you must go, Ogilvie," said Grayleigh. He took his hand, gave it a sympathetic squeeze, and went into the house.

"But must you go, father? Why, you have only just come," said Sibyl.

"I must, my darling, I must catch the next train; there is not ten minutes. Jump on the dog-cart, and we will drive to the station together."

"Oh, 'licious!" cried Sibyl, "more than 'licious; but what will mother say?"

"Never mind, the coachman will bring you back. Jump up, quick."

In another instant Sibyl was seated between her father and the coachman. The spirited mare dashed forward, and they bowled down the avenue. Ogilvie's arm was tight round Sibyl's waist, he was hugging her to him, squeezing her almost painfully tight. She gasped a little, drew in her breath, and then resolved to bear it.

"There's something troubling him, he likes having me near him,"

thought the child. "I wouldn't let him see that he's squeezing me up a bit too tight for all the world."

The mare seemed to fly over the ground. Ogilvie was glad.

"We shall have a minute or two at the station. I can speak to her then," he thought. "I won't tell her that I am going, but I can say something." Then the station appeared in view, and the mare was pulled up with a jerk; Ogilvie jumped to his feet, and lifted Sibyl to the ground.

"Wait for the child," he said to the servant, "and take her back carefully to the house."

"Yes, sir," answered the man, touching his hat.

Ogilvie went into the little station, and Sibyl accompanied him.

"I have my ticket," he said, "we have three minutes to spare, three whole precious minutes."

"Three whole precious minutes," repeated Sibyl. "What is it, father?"

"I am thinking of something," he said.

"What?" asked the girl.

"For these three minutes, one hundred and eighty seconds, you and I are to all intents and purposes alone in the world."

"Father! why, so we are," she cried. "Mother's not here, we are all alone. Nothing matters, does it, when we are alone together?"

"Nothing."

"You don't look quite well, dear father."

"I have been having some suffering lately, and am worried about things, those sort of things that don't come to little girls."

"Of course they don't, father, but when I'm a woman I'll have them.

I'll take them instead of you."

"Now listen, my darling."

"Father, before you speak ... I know you are going to say something very, _very_ solemn; I know you when you're in your solemn moments; I like you best of all then. You seem like Jesus Christ then. Don't you feel like Jesus Christ, father?"

"Never, Sib, never; but the time is going by, the train is signalled.

My dearest, what is it?"

"Mayn't I go back to town with you? I like the country, I like Gus and Freda and Mabel, but there is no place like your study in the evening, and there's no place like my bedroom at night when you come into it.

I'd like to go back with you, wouldn't it be fun! Couldn't you take me?"

"I could, of course," said the man, and just for a moment he wavered.

It would be nice to have her in the house, all by herself, for the next two or three days, but he put the thought from him as if it were a temptation.

"No, Sib," he said, "you must go back to your mother; it would not be at all right to leave your mother alone."

"Of course not," she answered promptly, and she gave a sigh which was scarcely a sigh.

"It would have been nice all the same," said Ogilvie. "Ah! there is my train; kiss me, darling."

She flung her arms tightly round his neck.

"Sibyl, just promise before I leave you that you will be a good girl, that you will make goodness the first thing in life. If, for instance, we were never to meet again--of course we shall, thousands of times, but just suppose, for the sake of saying it, that we did not, I should like to know that my little girl put goodness first. There is nothing else worth the while in life. Cling on to it, Sibyl, cling tight hold to it. Never forget that I----"

"Yes, father, I will cling to it. Yes, father!"

"That I wish it. You would do a great deal for me?"

"For you and Lord Jesus Christ," she answered softly.

"Then I wish this, remember, and whatever happens, whatever you hear, remember you promised. Now here's my train, stand back. Good-by, little woman, good-by."