“I cannot tell you, it is not my affair.”
“That means that you know, but you won’t tell.”
“You can put it in that way if you like. I won’t tell. Now come into the Park, we can sit on one of the chairs under the trees and keep cool.”
Sibyl obeyed unwillingly. She felt, as she said afterwards, as if Miss Winstead had rubbed her the wrong way.
“I am like a pussy-cat when its fur is rubbed quite the wrong side up,” thought the little girl. “I don’t like it, not a bit.”
Presently she slipped her hand through her governess’s arm, and said in a coaxing voice—
“Do come home through Greek Street; I do want just to say one word to Mr. Holman, you can’t think how ’portant it is.”
“I cannot, Sibyl; you must not ask me again.” Here Miss Winstead took out her watch.
“We must hurry home,” she said; “I had not the least idea the time was going so fast.”
They left the Park, and came back in time for lunch. During lunch both Mrs. Ogilvie and her little daughter were very silent. Sibyl was thinking of the Holmans, and how more than important it was that she should see them soon, and Mrs. Ogilvie had another thought in her head, a thought which caused her eyes to dance with pleasure.