by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER IX.
"Miss Winstead," said Mrs. Ogilvie, "this is all most unpleasant."
"What do you mean?" asked the governess.
"Why, this whim of my husband's. He has been away for over a week, andthe child imagines that he is still in London, that he will return atany instant and spoil her, after his usual injudicious fashion."
"Oh, I don't quite think that Mr. Ogilvie spoils your little Sibyl,"said Miss Winstead; "he has peculiar ideas, that's all."
"We need not discuss that point," said Mrs. Ogilvie in an irritatedtone. "We are back later than I thought, and I have to dine outto-night. I want you, Miss Winstead, to break the tidings to the childthat her father has gone to Queensland."
"I?" said Miss Winstead; "I would really rather----"
"I fear your likes or dislikes with regard to the matter cannot beconsidered. I cannot tell her, because I should not do it properly;and also, a more serious reason, I really have not the time. You cangive Sibyl a treat, if you like, afterwards. Take her out for a walkin the Park after tea, she always likes that; and you can take her toa shop and buy her a new toy--any toy she fancies. Here's a sovereign;you can go as far as that, you ought to get her something quitehandsome for that; and you might ask the little Leicesters next doorto come to tea to-morrow. There are a hundred ways in which the mindof a child can be diverted."
"Not the mind of Sibyl with regard to her father," interrupted MissWinstead.
"Well, for goodness' sake, don't make too much of it. You know howpeculiar he is, and how peculiar she is. Just tell her that he hasgone away for a couple of months--that he has gone on an expeditionwhich means money, and that _I_ am pleased about it, that he has doneit for my sake and for her sake. Tell her he'll be back before thesummer is over. You can put it any way you like, only do it, MissWinstead--do it!"
"When?" asked Miss Winstead. She turned very pale, and leant one handon the table.
"Oh, when you please, only don't worry me. You had better take her offmy hands at once. Just tell her that I am tired and have a headache,and won't see her until the morning; I really must lie down, andHortense must bathe my forehead. If I don't I shall look a perfectwreck to-night, and it is going to be a big dinner; I have beenanxious for some time to go. And afterwards there is a reception atthe Chinese Embassy; I am going there also. Please ask Watson, on yourway through the hall, to have tea sent to my boudoir. And now youquite understand?"
"But, please, say exactly what I am to tell your little girl."
"Don't you know? Say that her father has gone--oh, by the way, there'sa letter for her. I really don't know that she ought to have it. Herfather is sure to have said something terribly injudicious, butperhaps you had better give it to her. You might give it to her whenyou are telling her, and tell her to read it by-and-by, and not to besilly, but to be sensible. That is my message to her. Now pray go,Miss Winstead. Are you better? Have you had a nice time while we wereaway?"
"I still suffer very badly with my head," said Miss Winstead, "but thequiet has done me good. Yes, I will try and do my best. I saw Mr.Ogilvie the day he left; he did not look well, and seemed sorrowful.He asked me to be kind to Sibyl."
"I sincerely trust you are kind to the child; if I thought you did nottreat her with sympathy and understanding I should be obliged----"
"Oh, you need not go on," said Miss Winstead, coloring, and lookingannoyed. "I know my duty. I am not a woman with very largesympathies, or perhaps very wide views, but I try to do my duty; Ishall certainly do my utmost for your dear little daughter. There issomething very lovable about her, although sometimes I fear I do notquite understand her."
"No one seems to understand Sibyl, and yet everyone thinks herlovable," said the mother. "Well, give her my love; tell her I willride with her in the morning. She has had a present of a pony, quite aridiculous present; Lord Grayleigh was determined to give it to her.He took an immense fancy to the child, and put the gift in such a waythat it would not have been wise to refuse. Don't forget, when you seeWatson, to tell him to bring tea to my boudoir."
Miss Winstead slowly left the room. She was a very quiet woman, aboutthirty-five years of age. She had a stolid manner, and, as she saidherself, was a little narrow and a little old-fashioned, but she wastroubled now. She did not like the task set her. As she went upstairsshe muttered a solitary word.
"Coward!" she said, under her breath.
"I wish I was well out of this," thought the governess. "The child isnot an ordinary one, and the love she bears her father is not anordinary love."
Miss Winstead's schoolroom looked its brightest and best. The dayswere growing quite long now, and flowers were plentiful. A largebasket of flowers had been sent from Grayleigh Manor that morning, andMiss Winstead had secured some of the prettiest for her schoolroom.She had decorated the tea-table and the mantelpiece, but with a painat her heart, for she was all the time wondering if Sibyl knew or didnot know. She could not quite understand from Ogilvie's manner whethershe knew or not. He was very reserved about her just at the last, heevidently did not like to talk of her.
Miss Winstead entered the schoolroom. She sat down for a moment nearthe open window. The day was still in its prime. She looked at theclock. The under-housemaid, who had the charge of the schoolroom tea,now came in with the tray. She laid the cloth and spread thetea-things. There was a plate of little queen-cakes for Sibyl.
"Cook made these for Miss Sibyl," she said. "Does she know yet, MissWinstead, that the master has gone?"
"No," said Miss Winstead; "and I have got to tell her, Anne, and it isa task I anything but like."
"I wouldn't be in your shoes for a deal, Miss," replied Anne, in asympathetic voice.
Just then a light, childish step was heard in the passage, and Sibylburst into the room.
"Here I am. Oh, I am so glad tea is ready. What's the hour, please,Miss Winstead? How are you, Anne; is your toothache better?"
"I have not had any toothache to mention since you left, Miss Sibyl."
"I am glad to hear that. You used to suffer awful pain, didn't you?Did you go to Mr. Robbs, the dentist, and did he put your head betweenhis knees and tug and tug to get the tooth out? That's the way Nurse'steeth were taken out when she was a little girl. She told me all aboutit. Did Mr. Robbs pull your tooth out that way, Anne?"
"No, Miss, the tooth is better and in my head, I'm thankful to say."
"And how is cook? How are her sneezing fits?"
"All the servants are very well, I thank you, Miss."
"Don't make any more enquiries now, Sibyl, sit down and begin yourtea," said her governess.
Sibyl made an effort to suppress the words which were bubbling to herlips. Anne had reached the door, when she burst out with--
"I do just want to ask one more question. How is Watson, Anne, and howis his sweetheart? Has she been kinder to him lately?"
"Sibyl, I refuse to allow you to ask any further questions,"interrupted Miss Winstead. She was so nervous and perplexed at thetask before her that she was glad even to be able to find fault withthe child. It was really reprehensible of any child to take aninterest in Watson's sweetheart.
Anne, smiling however, and feeling also inclined to cry, left theroom. She ran down to the servants' hall.
"Of all the blessed angel children, Miss Sibyl beats 'em," she cried."Not one of us has she forgot; dear lamb, even to my tooth and yoursneezing fits, cook; and Watson, most special did she inquire for MaryPorter, the girl you're a-keeping company with. It's wonderful what atender heart she do have."
"That she have truly," said the cook, "and I'll make her some morequeen-cakes to-morrow, and ice them for her, that I will. It's but tolook at her to see how loving she is," continued the good woman. "Howshe'll live without the master beats me. The missus ain't worthy ofher."
This remark was followed by a sort of groan which proceeded from eachservant's mouth. It was evident that Mrs. Ogilvie was not popular inthe servants' hall.
Sibyl meanwhile was e
njoying her tea.
"It's nearly five o'clock," she said, "father is sure to be in at six,don't you think so, Miss Winstead?"
"He often doesn't come home till seven," answered Miss Winstead in aguilty voice, her hand shaking as she raised the teapot.
"Why, what's the matter with you, Winnie dear," said Sibyl--this washer pet name for the governess; "you have got a sort of palsy, youought to see a doctor. I asked Nurse what palsy was, and she said 'ashaking,' and you are all shaking. How funny the teapot looks whenyour hand is bobbing so. Do, Winnie, let me pour out tea."
"Not to-night. I was thinking that after tea you and I might go for alittle walk."
"Oh, I couldn't, really, truly; I must wait in till father comes."
"It is such a fine evening, that perhaps----"
"No, no, I don't want to go."
"But your mother has given me money; you are to buy anything youplease at the toy-shop."
This was a very great temptation, for Sibyl adored toys.
"How much money?" she asked in a tentative voice.
"Well, a good deal, a whole sovereign."
"Twenty shillings," said Sibyl, "I could get a lovely doll's house forthat. But I think sometimes I am getting tired of my dolls. It's sostupid of 'em not to talk, and never to cry, and not to feel pain orlove. But, on the whole, I suppose I should like a new doll's house,and there was a beauty at the toy-shop for twenty shillings. It wasthere at Christmas-time. I expect it's a little dusty now, but I daresay Mr. Holman would let me have it cheap. I am _very_ fond of Mr.Holman, aren't you, Winnie? Don't you love him very, very much? He hassuch kind, sorrowful eyes. Don't you like him?"
"I don't know that I do, Sibyl. Come, finish your tea, my dear."
"Have you been trying to 'prove yourself very much while I was away?"said Sibyl, looking at her now in a puzzled way.
"Prove myself?"
"I can never say that whole word. _Im_prove is what I mean. Have youbeen trying?"
"I always try, Sibyl."
"Then I think Lord Jesus is helping you, for you _are_ 'proved, you'requite sympathisy. I like you when you're sympathisy. Yes, I havefinished my tea, and, if you wish it, I'll go out just as far as Mr.Holman's to buy the doll's house. He is poor, and he'll be real gladto sell it. He has often told me how little money he makes by thetoys, and how they lose their freshness and get dusty, and childrentoss 'em. Some children are _so_ careless. Yes, I'll go with you,and then we'll come straight home. Father will be back certainto-night at six. He'll know that I'll be wanting him."
"Sibyl, I have something to tell you."
"What?"
There was a tremulous note in Miss Winstead's voice which arrested thegay, careless chatter. The child looked at her governess. That deep,comprehensive, strange look visited her eyes. Miss Winstead got uphastily and walked to the window, then she returned to her seat.
"What is it?" said Sibyl, still seated at the tea-table, but turninground and watching her governess.
"It is something that will pain you, dear."
"Oh!" said Sibyl, "go on, please. Out with it! plump it out! as Guswould say. Be quick. I don't like to be kept in 'spense."
"I am afraid, Sibyl, that you will not see your father to-night."
Sibyl jumped up just as if someone had shot her. She stood quite stillfor a moment, and a shiver went through her little frame; then shewent up to Miss Winstead.
"I can bear it," she said; "go on. Shall I see father to-morrow?"
"Not to-morrow, nor the next day, nor the next."
"Go on; I am bearing it," said Sibyl.
She stood absolutely upright, white as a sheet, her eyes queerlydilated, but her lips firm.
"It's a great shock, but I am bearing it," she said again. "_When_will I see him?"
Miss Winstead turned now and looked at her.
"Child," she said, "don't look like that."
"I'm looking no special way; I'm only bearing up. Is father dead?"
"No; no, my dear. No, my poor little darling. Oh, you ought to havebeen told; but he did not wish it. It was his wish that you shouldhave a happy time in the country. He has gone to Queensland; he willbe back in a few months."
"A few months," said Sibyl. "He's not dead?" She sat down listlesslyon the window seat. She heaved a great sigh.
"It's the little shots that hurt most," she said after a pause. "Iwouldn't have felt it, if you had said he was dead."
"Come out, Sibyl, you know now he won't be back by six."
"Yes, I'll go out with you."
She turned and walked very gravely out of the room.
"I'd rather she cried and screamed; I'd rather she rushed at me andtried to hurt me; I'd rather she did anything than take it like that,"thought the governess.
Sibyl went straight into the nursery.
"Nursie," she said, "my father has gone. He is in Queensland; he didnot wish me to be told, but I have been told now. He is coming back ina few months. A few months is like for ever, isn't it, nursie? I amgoing out with Miss Winstead for a walk."
"Oh, my darling," said nursie, "this has hurt you horribly."
"Don't," said Sibyl, "don't be sympathisy." She pushed nurse'sdetaining hand away.
"It's the little shots that tell," she repeated. "I wouldn't have feltanything if it had been a big, big bang; if he had been dead, I mean,but I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to let anybody think that Icare anything at all. Give me my hat and gloves and jacket, please,nurse."
She went to Miss Winstead, put her hand in hers, and the two wentdownstairs. When they got into the street Sibyl looked full at her,and asked her one question.
"Was it mother said you was to tell me?"
"Yes."
"Then mother did tell me a----" Sibyl left off abruptly, her poorlittle face quivered. The suffering in her eyes was so keen that MissWinstead did not dare to meet them. They went for a walk in the park,and Sibyl talked in her most proper style, but she did not say any ofthe nice, queer, interesting things she was, as a rule, noted for.Instead, she told Miss Winstead dry, uninteresting little facts, withregard to her visit to the country.
"I hear you have got a pony," said Miss Winstead.
"I don't want to talk about my pony, please," interrupted Sibyl. "Letme tell you just what were the most perfect views near the place wewere in."
"But why may we not talk about your pony?"
"I don't want to ride my pony now."
Miss Winstead was alarmed about the child.
"You have walked quite far enough to-night," she said, "you look verywhite."
"I'm not a scrap tired, I never felt better in my life. Do let us goto the toy-shop."
"A good idea," said the governess, much cheered to find Sibyl, in heropinion, human after all. "We will certainly go there and will choosea beautiful toy."
"Well, this is the turning, come along," said Sibyl.
"But why should we go to Holman's, there is a splendid toy-shop inthis street."
"I'd much rather go to Mr. Holman's."
Miss Winstead did not expostulate any further. Presently they reachedthe shabby little shop. Mr. Holman, the owner of the shop, was aspecial friend of the child's. He had once or twice, charmed by hersympathetic way, confided some of his griefs to her. He found it, hetold her, extremely difficult to make the toy-shop pay; and Sibyl, inconsequence, considered it her bounden duty to spend every half-pennyshe could spare at this special shop. She entered now, went straightup to the counter and held out her hand.
"How do you do, Mr. Holman," she said; "I hope I find you quite well."
"Thank you, Missy; I am in the enjoyment of good health," replied theshopman, flushing with pleasure and grasping the little hand.
"I am glad of that," answered Sibyl. "I have come, Mr. Holman, to buya big thing, it will do your shop a lot of good. I am going to spendtwenty shillings in your shop. What would you like me to buy?"
"You thought a doll's house," interrupted Miss Winstead, who stoodbehind the child.
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"Oh, it don't matter about that," said Sibyl, looking gravely back ather; "I mean it don't matter now. Mr. Holman, what's the most dusty ofyour toys, what's the most scratched, what's the toy that none of theother children would like?"
"I have a whole heap of 'em," said Holman, shaking his head sadly.
"That he have, poor dear," here interrupted Mrs. Holman. "How do youdo, Missy, we are both glad to see you back again; we have had a dullseason, very dull, and the children, they didn't buy half the toysthey ought to at Christmas time. It's because our shop is in a backstreet."
"Oh, but it's a very nice street," said Sibyl; "it's retired, isn'tit? Well, I'll buy twenty shillings' worth of the most dusty of thetoys, and please send them home to-morrow. Please, Miss Winstead, putthe money down."
Miss Winstead laid a sovereign on the counter.
"Good-by, Mr. Holman; good-by, Mrs. Holman," said Sibyl. She shookhands solemnly with the old pair, and then went out of the shop.
"What ails her?" said Holman. "She looks as if something had diedinside her. I don't like her looks a bit."
Mrs. Ogilvie enjoyed herself very much that evening. Her friends wereglad to see her back. They were full of just the pleasant sympathywhich she liked best to receive. She must be lonely without herhusband. When would he return? When she said in a few months' time,they congratulated her, and asked her how she had enjoyed herself atGrayleigh Manor. In short, there was that sort of fuss made about herwhich most appealed to her fancy. She forgot all about Sibyl. Shelooked at other women of her acquaintance, and thought that when herhusband came home she would wear just as dazzling gems and just asbeautiful dresses, and she, too, might talk about her country place,and invite her friends down to this rural retreat at Whitsuntide, andmake up a nice house-party in the autumn, and again in the winter. Oh,yes, the world with its fascinations was stealing more and more intoher heart, and she had no room for the best of all. She forgot herlonely child during these hours.
Mrs. Ogilvie returned from a fashionable reception between twelve andone in the morning. Hortense was up and tired. She could scarcelyconceal her yawns as she unstitched the diamonds which she had sewn onher mistress's dress earlier in the evening, and put away thedifferent jewels. At last, however, her duties were over, and she wentaway to her room.
Mrs. Ogilvie got into bed, and closing her eyes, prepared to doze offinto delicious slumber. She was pleasantly tired, and no more. As shesank into repose, the house in the country and the guests who wouldfill it mingled with her dreams. Suddenly she heard a clear voice inher ears. It awoke her with a sort of shock. She raised herself on herelbow, and saw her little daughter standing in her white nightdress bythe bedside.
"Mother," said Sibyl.
"What are you doing there, Sibyl? Go back to bed directly."
"Please, mother, I can't sleep. I have got a sort of up-and-down andround-and-round feeling. I don't know what it is, but it's worse whenI put my head on my pillow. I 'spect I'm lonesome, mother. Mother, Ireally, truly, am going to be sensible, and I know all about father;but may I get into your bed just at the other side. I will lie asstill as a mouse; may I, mother?"
"Oh dear, how you tremble," said Mrs. Ogilvie; "how more than annoyingthis is! You certainly are not a sensible child at the present moment.If you felt so strange and nervous, why didn't you ask Nurse or MissWinstead to sleep in the room with you?"
"But, mother, that wouldn't have done me any good."
"What do you mean?"
"They wouldn't be you. I'll be quite happy if I can get into bedalongside of you, mother."
"Of course you may, child, but please don't disturb me. I am verytired, and want to sleep."
Sibyl ran round to the other side of the bed, slipped in, and lay asquiet as a mouse.
Mrs. Ogilvie curled up comfortably, arranged her pillows, and closedher eyes. She was very sleepy, but what was the matter with her? Shecould not lose herself in unconsciousness. Was the perfectly stilllittle figure by her side exercising some queer power over her,drawing something not often stirred within her heart to the surface?She turned at last and looked at the child. Sibyl was lying on herback with her eyes wide open.
"Why don't you shut your eyes and go to sleep?" asked her mother.
"I can't, on account of the round-and-roundness feeling," repliedSibyl.
"What a funny little thing you are. Here, give me your hand."
Mrs. Ogilvie stretched out her own warm hand and took one of Sibyl's.Sibyl's little hand was cold.
"May I come quite close to you, mother?" asked Sibyl.
"Yes, darling."
The next instant she was lying in her mother's arms. Her motherclasped her close to her breast and kissed her many times.
"Oh, now that's better," said the child with a sob. It was the firstattempt at a sob which had come from her lips. She nestled cosilywithin her mother's clasp.
"I am much better," she said; "I didn't understand, but I understandnow. I got his letter."
"Must we talk about it to-night, Sibyl?" asked her mother.
"Not much; there's not much to say, is there? He said I was to be goodand to obey you. I was to be good all the time. It's very hard, but I'spect I'll do it; I 'spect Lord Jesus will help me. Mother, why hasfather gone to Queensland? It's such a long, long way off."
"For a most excellent reason," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "You really areshowing a great deal of sense, Sibyl. I never knew you more sensibleabout anything. I was afraid you would cry and make scenes and benaughty, and make yourself quite ill; that would have been a mostsilly, affected sort of thing to do. Your father has gone away just ona visit--we will call it that. He will be back before the summer isover, and when he comes back he will bring us----"
"What?" asked the child. "What has he gone for?"
"My dear child, he has gone on most important business. He will bringus back a great deal of _money_, Sibyl. You are too young yet tounderstand about money."
"No, I am not," said Sibyl. "I know that when people have not muchmoney they are sorrowful. Poor Mr. Holman is."
"Who in the world is Mr. Holman?"
"He sells the toys in the back street near our house. I am very muchobliged to you, mother, for that sovereign. Mr. Holman is going tosend me some dusty toys to-morrow."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't 'splain, Mr. Holman understands. But, mother, I thought wehad plenty of money."
"Plenty of money," echoed Mrs. Ogilvie; "that shows what a very sillylittle child you are. We have nothing like enough. When your fathercomes back we'll be rich."
"Rich?" said Sibyl, "rich?" She did not say another word for a longtime. Her mother really thought she had dropped asleep. In about halfan hour, however, Sibyl spoke.
"Is it nice, being rich?" she asked.
"Of course it is."
"But what does it do?"
"Do? It does everything. It gives you all your pretty frocks."
"But I am more comfy in my common frocks."
"Well, it gives you your nice food."
"I don't care nothing about food."
"It gives you your comfortable home, your pony, and----"
"Lord Grayleigh gave me my pony."
"Child, I cannot explain. It makes all the difference between comfortand discomfort, between sorrow and happiness."
"Do you think so?" said Sibyl. "And father has gone away to give me anice house, and pretty clothes, and all the other things between beingcomfy and discomfy; and you want to be rich very much, do you,mother?"
"Very much indeed; I like the good things of life."
"I'll try and understand," said Sibyl. She turned wearily on herpillow, and the next instant sleep had visited the perplexed littlebrain.