Daddy's Girl. Meade L. T.

another man more suited for your purpose.

“Yours sincerely,“Philip Ogilvie.”

      It was between one and two that same night that Ogilvie let himself in with his latchkey.

      His wife had been to one or two receptions, and had not yet gone to bed. She was standing in the hall, looking radiant as he had seldom seen her. She was dressed beautifully, and her hair and neck were covered with diamonds.

      “What,” he cried, “up still, Mildred? You ought to be in bed.”

      He did not give her any glance of admiration, beautiful as she appeared. He shivered slightly with a movement which she did not notice as she stood before him, the lamplight falling all over her lovely dress and figure.

      “I am so glad you have come back, Phil,” she said. “I shall sleep better now that I have seen you. I hear that Lord Grayleigh has offered you the post of engineer on the board of the Lombard Deeps Mine Company.”

      Ogilvie did not answer. After a moment’s pause he said in a sullen tone —

      “Had you not better go to bed? It is much too late for you to be up.”

      “What does that matter? I am far too excited to sleep, and it is wrong of you to keep things of moment from your wife. This offer means a large addition to our income. Why, Phil, Phil, we can buy a country place now; we can do, oh! so many things. We can pay those terrible debts that worry you. What is the matter? Aren’t you pleased? Why do you frown at me? And you are pale, are you ill?”

      “Come into my smoking-room,” he said, gravely. He took her hand and, drawing her in, switched on the electric light. Then he turned his wife round and looked full at her.

      “This will make a great difference in our position,” she said. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were flushed, her pearly teeth showed between her parted lips.

      “What do you mean by our position?” he said.

      “You know perfectly well that we have not money enough to keep up this house; it is a struggle from first to last.”

      “And yet I earn close on six thousand a year, Mildred. Have you never considered that you are the person who makes it a struggle?”

      “It is impossible; impossible to manage,” she said, petulantly.

      “It is, when you buy all these worthless baubles” – he touched her diamonds, and then he started away from her. “Why you should saddle yourself and me with debts almost impossible to meet for the sake of these is beyond my comprehension; but if you really do want a fresh toy in the way of an ornament to-morrow you have but to order it – that is, in moderation.”

      “Ah! I knew you had accepted,” she said, making a quick dancing movement with her small feet. “Now I am happy; we can have a place if possible on the river. I have always longed to live close to the Thames. It is most unfashionable not to have a country seat, and the child will be well off by-and-by. I was told to-night by a City man who is to be one of the directors of the new company, that if you are clever you can make a cool forty thousand pounds out of this business. He says your name is essential to float the thing with the public.”

      “You know, perhaps, what all this means?” said Ogilvie, after a pause.

      “Why do you speak in that tone, quite with the Sibyl air?”

      “Don’t dare to mention the child’s name at a moment like this. I just wish to tell you, Mildred, in a few words, what it would mean to the world at large if I assayed the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine.”

      “Oh, your business terms do so puzzle me,” she answered. “I declare I am getting sleepy.” Mrs. Ogilvie yawned slightly.

      “It would be better if you went to bed, but as you are here I shall put your mind at rest. If I accepted Grayleigh’s offer – ”

      “If! But you have done so, of course you have.”

      “If I do, my name as engineer to the company will cause many people to buy shares. Now, Mildred, I am not sure of the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine. I know more about this business than I can explain to you, and you have a tongue, and women cannot keep secrets.”

      “As usual, you taunt me,” she said, “but what does that matter? I could bear even an insult from you to-night, I am so excited and so pleased. I believe in the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine. I intend to put all the money I can lay hold of into it. Of course you will assay the Lombard Deeps? I never could make out what assaying meant, but it seems to be a way of raking in gold, and I was told to-night by Mr. Halkett that you are the most trusted assayer in London. Has the letter come yet? Has Lord Grayleigh yet offered you the post?”

      “The letter has come.”

      “You would make thousands a year out of it. Phil, oh, Phil, how happy I am! You have replied, have you not?”

      “I have.”

      “Then why do you keep me in suspense? It is settled. What are you so glum about?”

      “I have declined the offer. I cannot assay the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine.”

      “Philip!” His wife’s voice was at first incredulous, then it rose into a scream.

      “You cannot be speaking the truth,” she said.

      “My answer is posted. I am not too scrupulous about small things, but I draw the line at a matter of that sort. Go to bed.”

      She did not speak for a moment, her face turned pale, then she went close up to him.

      “I hate you,” she said; “go your own way in the future,” and she left him standing silent.

      CHAPTER III

      Sibyl and her mother went to Grayleigh Manor on the following Saturday. Sibyl was wild with excitement. Nurse was going, of course, to look after her, but Miss Winstead was to remain at home. Sibyl felt that she could manage nurse, but there were moments when Miss Winstead was a little obstinate. She would have a delightful time now in the country with her perfect mother. Of course, there was the pain of parting with father, who was just as perfect, if not a little more so. In her heart of hearts Sibyl felt that she understood her father, and that there were times when she did not quite understand her mother; but, never mind, her mother was the perfection of all feminine beauty and loveliness, and grace and goodness, and her father was the perfection of all masculine goodness and nobility of character. Sibyl in her heart of hearts wished that she had been born a boy.

      “I am much more like a boy than a girl,” she thought, “and that is why I understand father so well. But it will be lovely going to the country with mother, my ownest mother. I expect I’ll have great fun; and, as mother doesn’t care so very much whether I am perfect or not, perhaps I can be a little naughty on my own account. That will be lovely. I can’t be really naughty with father, it is impossible; father is so very tall up, and has such grand thoughts about things; but I can with mother.”

      So Sibyl watched the packing of her dainty frocks and gay sashes and pretty ribbons, and then ran down to the smoking-room to kiss and hug her father.

      Ogilvie was very grave and silent, and did not say a word, nor draw her out in any way, and her mother was out most of the time either paying calls or shopping, and at last the day dawned when they were to go away. Ogilvie had kissed Sibyl with great passion the night before.

      “Don’t forget me while you are away, little woman,” he said, “and look after mother, won’t you?”

      “She won’t need me to look after her, she’s quite, quite perfect,” said Sibyl; “but I’m going to watch her, and try to copy her.”

      “Child, don’t do that,” said the man.

      “Not copy my ownest mother? What do you mean, father?”

      “Well, well, darling, God will look after you, I do believe. You are not far from Him, are you, Sib? You know we call you the Angel. Angels are supposed to have their home in heaven.”

      “Well, my home is right down here on earth,”