“And she must love you very much,” said Sylvia.
Jasper uttered a quick sigh.
“It is not Evelyn’s way to love to extremities,” she said slowly. “You must not blame her, my dear; we are all made according to the will of the Almighty; and Evelyn—oh yes, she is as the apple of the eye to me, but I am nothing of that sort to her. You see, dear, her head is a bit turned with the lofty future that lies before her. In some ways it does not suit her; it would suit you, Miss Sylvia, or it would suit Miss Audrey, but it does not suit little Eve. It is too much for my little Eve; she would do better in a less exalted sphere.”
“Well, I do hope and trust she will be glad to see you and glad to hear about you,” said Sylvia. “I will be sure to tell her what a dear old thing you are. But, oh, Jasper, do you think she will notice the smart dress made out of her dress?”
“You can give her this note, dear; I am sending her a word of warning not to draw attention to your dress. And now, don’t you think you had better get into it, and let me see you out by the back premises?”
“I must go and see father just for a minute first,” said Sylvia.
She ran off, saw her father, as usual busily writing letters, and bent down to kiss him.
“Don’t disturb me,” he said in a querulous tone. “I am particularly busy. The post this morning has brought me some gratifying news. A little investment I made a short time ago in great fear and trembling has turned up trumps. I mean to put a trifle more money—oh, my dear! I only possess a trifle—into the same admirable undertaking (gold-mines, my dear), and if all that the prospectus says is true I shall be in very truth a rich man. Not yet, Sylvia—don’t you think it—but some day.”
“Oh father! and if you are——”
“Why, you may spend a little more then, dear—a little more; but it is wrong to squander gold. Gold is a beautiful and precious thing, my dear; very beautiful, very precious, very hard to get.”