“Doesn’t she love you in return?” asked Orissa.
“Sybil? Why, she’s tremendously fond of me. My daughter,” and his voice grew suddenly tender, “has been for years—is now—the only person I live for. We’re chums, we two. The poor child can’t help her inherited tendencies, you know, and I rather enjoy the fact that she keeps me guessing what she’s going to do next. It—er—interests me, so to speak. I like Sybil.”
Sybil interested Orissa, too. Her father’s reports of her were so startlingly condemnatory, and his affection for her so evident, that Orissa’s curiosity was aroused concerning her. Mr. Cumberford, in spite of his peculiarities and deprecating remarks concerning himself had won the friendship of both Stephen and Orissa by this time; for whatever he might be to others he had certainly proved himself a friend in need to them. It was evident he liked the Kanes and sought their companionship, for the aircraft could scarcely account for his constant attendance at the hangar.
“I would like to meet your daughter,” said the girl, thoughtfully.
“Would you, really?” he asked, eagerly. “Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt Sybil to know you. I’ll bring her out here to-morrow, if she’ll come. Never can tell what she will do or won’t do, you know. Interesting, isn’t it?”
“Quite so,” she concurred, laughing at his whimsical tone.
Because of this conversation the Kanes awaited Mr. Cumberford’s arrival next day with keen curiosity. Steve advanced the opinion that the girl wouldn’t come, but Orissa thought she would. And she did. When the motor car stopped in front of the bungalow there was a girl in the back seat and Orissa ran down the path to welcome her.
A pale, composed face looked out from beneath a big black hat with immense black plumes. A black lace waist with black silk bolero and skirt furnished a somber costume scarcely suited to so young a girl, for Sybil Cumberford could not have been much older than Orissa, if any. Her father was right when he claimed that Sybil was not beautiful. She had high, prominent cheek bones, a square chin and a nose with a decided uplift to the point. But her brown hair was profuse and exquisitely silky; her dark eyes large, well opened and far seeing; her slight form carried with unconscious grace.
Orissa’s critical glance took in these points at once, and intuitively she decided that Sybil Cumberford was not unattractive and ought to win friends. That she had a strong personality was evident; also the girl whom her father had affectionately called a “demon” was quiet, reserved and undemonstrative—at least during this first interview.
She acknowledged the introduction to Orissa with a rather haughty bow, alighting from the car without noticing Miss Kane’s outstretched hand.