“It’s the most darling, lovely place,” she said; “nobody knows how beautiful it is. I do hope it will soon be ours.”
“When our ship comes in, it will be ours,” said Mrs. Ogilvie, and she laughed merrily and looked full of happiness.
When the servants left the room, however, Rochester bent forward and said something to Mrs. Ogilvie which did not please that good lady quite so much.
“Have you heard the rumors with regard to the Lombard Deeps Gold Mine?” he asked.
“What rumors?” Mrs. Ogilvie looked anxious. “I know nothing whatever about business,” she said, testily, “I leave all that absolutely to my husband. I know that he considers the mine an excellent one, but his full report cannot yet have reached England.”
“Of course it has not. Ogilvie’s report in full cannot come to hand for another six weeks. I allude now to a paragraph in one of the great financial papers, in which the mine is somewhat depreciated, the gold being said to be much less to the ton than was originally supposed, and the strata somewhat shallow, and terminating abruptly. Doubtless there is no truth in it.”
“Not a word, not a word,” said Mrs. Ogilvie; “but I make a point of being absolutely ignorant with regard to gold mines. I consider it positively wrong of a woman to mix herself up in such masculine matters. All the sweet femininity of character must depart if such knowledge is carried to any extent.”
“Lady Helen knows about all these sort of things, and yet I think she is quite feminine,” said Rochester; and then he colored faintly and looked at Sibyl, whose eyes danced with fun.
Mrs. Ogilvie slowly rose from the table.
“You will find cigars in that box,” she said. “No, Sibyl, you are not to stay with Mr. Rochester; come to the drawing-room with me.”