Daddy's Girl Part 46

"On the contrary, I believe that I am sane--sane at last. I grant you I was mad when I signed the report, but I am sane now."

"What packet was that you gave me?"

"Your money back."

"The ten thousand pounds?"

"Yes; I did not want it. I have delivered my soul, and nothing else matters."

"Tell me at least one thing. Is this strange action on your part owing to the child's accident?"

"It is. I was going headlong down to h.e.l.l, but G.o.d, through her, has pulled me up short. Gold is utterly valueless to me now. The child is dying, and I cannot part with her for all eternity. You can draw your own conclusions."

As Ogilvie spoke he shook Grayleigh's detaining hand from his arm. The chairman of the Lombard Deeps Company stood still for a moment, then returned to the directors.

As Grayleigh walked slowly upstairs he had a moment's conflict with his own conscience. In one thing at least Ogilvie was generous. He had not dragged Lord Grayleigh to the earth in his own fall. The affair of the ten thousand pounds was known to no one else.

"He fell, and I caused him to fall," thought Lord Grayleigh. "In the moment of his fall, if I were even half a man, I would stand by him and acknowledge my share in the matter. But no; where would be the use? I cannot drag my children through the mire. Poor Ogilvie is losing his child, and for him practically life is over."

Grayleigh re-entered the room where the directors waited for him.

"I saw Ogilvie just now," he said, "and he sticks to his story. I fear, too, that I was wrong in my conjecture with regard to his madness. He must have had a temporary madness when he drew up and signed the false report. I suppose we ought to consider ourselves lucky."

"At least the widows and orphans won't be ruined," said one of the directors, a thin-faced anxious-looking man. "Well, of course, Lord Grayleigh, we must all wash our hands of this."

"We must do so advisedly," was Grayleigh's remark; "remember, we have gone far. Remember, the cablegram was not kept too secret, and the knowledge of the excellent report sent by Ogilvie has got to the ears of one or two city editors. He must give out that there was a misunderstanding as to the value of the mine."

"And what of Ogilvie himself?" said an angry-looking man. "Such infamous conduct requires stringent measures. Do you gentlemen share my views?"

One or two did, but most protested against dragging Ogilvie's story too prominently into the light of day.

"It may reflect on ourselves," said one or two. "It is just possible there may be some people who will not believe that he was alone in this matter."

Lord Grayleigh was the last to speak.

"If I were you, gentlemen," he said, moodily, "I would leave Ogilvie to his G.o.d."

CHAPTER XXII.

"Philip!" said Mrs. Ogilvie, as he re-entered pretty Silverbel about four o'clock that afternoon, "I have just had an extraordinary telegram from our lawyer, Mr. Acland."

Ogilvie looked full at her but did not speak.

"How strangely tired and worn you look," she replied; "what can be the matter with you? Sometimes, when I think of you and the extraordinary way in which you are acting, I come to the conclusion that your brain cannot be right."

"You are wrong there, Mildred. There was a time when not only my brain but all my moral qualities were affected, but I believe these things are put right at last."

He gave a hollow laugh.

"I am enjoying, for the first time for many months, the applause of an approving conscience," he continued; "that is something to live for."

"Have you done anything rash, Philip?"

"I have done something which my conscience justifies. Now, what about the telegram from Acland?"

"He is coming here this evening to have a talk with me. What can he have to say?"

"Doubtless his visit is accounted for by an interview I had with him yesterday. I asked him to explain matters to you, as you and he conducted the business with regard to this place together. Mildred, Silverbel must be given up."

Her face grew red with pa.s.sion, she felt inclined to stamp her foot.

"It cannot be," she cried, "we have already paid two thousand pounds deposit."

"That money was returned by me to Acland yesterday. He has doubtless heard of another purchaser. It will be a lucky thing for us, Mildred, if he takes the furniture as well as the place. Pray don't keep me now."

She gave a sharp cry and flung herself into a chair. Ogilvie paused as if to speak to her, then changed his mind and went slowly upstairs. On the landing outside Sibyl's door he paused for a moment, struggling with himself.

"The bitterness of death lies before me," he muttered, for he knew that difficult as was the task which he had accomplished that morning at the Cannon Street Hotel, terrible as was the moment when he stood before his fellow men and branded himself as a felon, these things were nothing, nothing at all to that which now lay before him, for G.o.d demanded something more of the man--he must open the eyes of the child who wors.h.i.+pped him. The thought of this awful task almost paralyzed him; his heart beat with heavy throbs and the moisture stood on his forehead. One look at Sibyl, however, lying whiter and sweeter than ever in her little bed, restored to him that marvellous self-control which love alone can give.

Nurse was in the room, and it was evident that nurse had been having a bout of crying. Her eyelids were red. She turned when she saw her master, went up to him and shook her head.

"Leave us for a little, nurse," said Ogilvie.

She went away at once.

Ogilvie now approached the bed, dropped into a chair and took one of Sibyl's hands.

"You have been a long time away, father," said the child.

"I have, my darling, I had a great deal to do."

"Business, father?"

"Yes, dearest, important business."

"You don't look well," said Sibyl. She gazed at him, apprehensively, her blue eyes opened wide, and a spasm of pain flitted across her brow.

"I have had a hard time," said the man, "and now, my little girl, I have come to you, to you, my dearest, to perform the hardest task of my life."

"To me, father? The hardest task of your life?"

"Yes, my little daughter, I have something to say to you."

"Something bad?" asked Sibyl.