Read Ebook: Daddy's Girl by Meade L T

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Ebook has 1981 lines and 71565 words, and 40 pages

"Some of 'em grander."

"We might lend her one of our own brown holland frocks," said Freda.

"Oh, do!" said Sibyl; "that will be lovely."

"We are going to do some climbing this afternoon, so you may as well put it on," continued Freda.

Sibyl clapped her hands with delight. "It's a great comfort coming down to this place," she said finally, "'cos I can give way a little; but with my father and mother I have to keep myself in."

"Why?"

"It's mostly on account of my most perfect of fathers."

"But isn't Philip Ogilvie your father?" said Gus.

"Mr. Ogilvie," corrected Sibyl, in a very proud tone.

"Oh, fudge! I heard father call him Philip Ogilvie. He's not perfect."

Sibyl's face turned white; she looked full at Gus. Gus, not observing the expression in her eyes, continued, in a glib and easy tone:

"Father didn't know I was there; he was talking to another man. I think the man's name was Halkett. I'm always great at remembering names, and I heard him say 'Philip Ogilvie will do what we want. When it comes to the point he's not too scrupulous.' Yes, scrupulous was the word, and I ran away and looked it out in the dictionary, and it means--oh, you needn't stare at me as if your eyes were starting out of your head--it means a person who hesitates from fear of acting wrongly. Now, as your father isn't scrupulous, that means that he doesn't hesitate to act wrong."

Sibyl with one swift, unerring bang struck Gus a sharp blow across the cheek.

"What have you done that for, you little beggar?" he said, his eyes flashing fire.

"To teach you not to tell lies," answered Sibyl. She turned, went up the room, and stood by the window. Her heart was bursting, and tears were scorching her eyeballs. "But I won't shed them," thought the child, "not for worlds."

Sibyl's action was so unexpected that there was a silence in the room for a few moments, but presently Freda stole softly to Sibyl's side and touched her on her arm.

"Gus is sorry he said anything to hurt you," she said; "we didn't understand that you would feel it as you do, but we are all sorry, and we like you all the better for it. Won't you shake hands with Gus and be friends?"

"And I'll never say a word against your father again," said Gus.

"You had better not," answered Sibyl. "No, I won't shake hands; I won't make friends with you till I know something more about you. But I'd like to climb trees, and to get into a holland frock."

It was great fun getting into the holland frock, more particularly when it was discovered to be too short, and also very dirty. It had a great ink-stain in front, and the sleeves were tight and showed a good bit of Sibyl's white arms. She looked at herself in the glass and danced about in her excitement.

"You can have this old sailor hat to match the frock," said Freda in conclusion. "Now no one will say you are too fine. Come out now, Gus and the others are waiting."

Yes, the sun shone once more for Sibyl, and she forgot for a time Gus's cruel words about her father. He was most attentive to her now, and initiated her into the mystery of climbing. Screams of laughter followed her valiant efforts to ascend the leafy heights of certain beech trees which grew not far from the house. This laughter attracted the attention of a lady and gentleman who were pacing the leafy alley not far away.

"What a noise those children make," said Lord Grayleigh to his companion.

"How many children have you, Lord Grayleigh?" asked Mrs. Ogilvie. She looked full at him as she spoke.

"I have three," he replied; "they are great scamps, and never for a single moment fit to be seen. Since their mother died"--he sighed as he uttered these words, he was a widower of over two years' standing--"I have kept them more or less with myself. There is no harm in them, although they are pickles. Come, I will introduce you to them. That reminds me, I have not yet seen your own little daughter."

Mrs. Ogilvie was very proud of Sibyl, but only when she looked her best. The mother now contemplated, with a feeling of satisfaction, the nice dresses which she had secured for the child before she came into the country. No one could look more lovely than this little daughter of hers, when dressed suitably, so abundant was her golden brown hair, and so blue were her eyes, so straight the little features, so soft the curves of the rosy lips. It is true those blue eyes had an expression in them which never in this world could Mrs. Ogilvie understand, nevertheless, the child's beauty was apparent to the most superficial observer; and Mrs. Ogilvie turned and accompanied Lord Grayleigh in the direction of the merry sounds willingly enough.

"I see four little figures dancing about among those trees," said Lord Grayleigh. "We will see them all together."

They turned down a side walk, and came face to face with Sibyl herself. Now, at that instant the little girl certainly did not look at her best. The holland frock, short and shabby, had a great rent above the knee, her soft cheek was scratched and bleeding slightly, and there was a smudge across her forehead.

Sibyl, quite unconscious of these defects, flew to her mother's side.

"Oh, Mummy," she cried, "I'm so happy. Gus has been teaching me to climb. Do you see that beech tree? I climbed as far as the second branch, and Gus said I did it splendid. It's lovely to sit up there."

Sibyl 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 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."

"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.

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?

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