“Yes; two thousand pounds; I believe the owners will take that on condition that the purchase is completed, say, in October.”
“My husband will be back by then. I have a great mind to agree,” she said. She almost trembled in her eagerness. After a moment’s pause she spoke.
“I will accept your offer, Mr. Acland. I don’t know where to go in August and September, and Silverbel will be the very place. Mr. Ogilvie will thank you most heartily for your generous trust in us both when he comes back.”
“I have plenty of funds to meet this loan,” thought the lawyer. “I am safe so far.” Aloud he said, “Then I will go and see the owners to-morrow.”
“This clinches the matter,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, “I will begin ordering the furniture immediately.”
The lawyer and the lady had a little further conversation, and then Mrs. Ogilvie dressed and went out to dine, and told many of her friends of her golden dreams.
“A place in the country, a place like Silverbel, has always been the longing of my life,” she said, and she looked pathetic and almost ethereal, as she spoke, and as though nothing pleased her more than a ramble through country lanes with buttercups and daisies within reach.
On the following Sunday, Rochester happened to lunch with Mrs. Ogilvie and her little daughter. Mrs. Ogilvie talked during the entire meal of the beautiful place which was soon to be hers.
“You shall come with Sibyl and me to see it to-morrow,” she said. “I will ask Lady Helen to come, too. I will send her a note by messenger. We might meet at Victoria Station at eleven o’clock, and go to Silverbel and have lunch at the little inn on the river.”
Rochester agreed somewhat eagerly. His eyes brightened. He looked at Sibyl, who gave him a meaning, affectionate, sympathetic glance. She would enjoy very much seeing the lovers wandering through beautiful Silverbel side by side.