“I thought it only fair to tell you,” he answered, and the next moment he left the house. As he did so, he uttered a solitary remark:
“What a fool that woman is! I pity Ogilvie.”
CHAPTER XIII.
It was the last week in July when Mrs. Ogilvie took possession of Silverbel. She had ordered furniture in her usual reckless fashion, going to the different shops where she knew she could obtain credit. The house, already beautiful, looked quite lovely when decorated by the skilful hands which arranged draperies and put furniture into the most advantageous positions.
Sibyl’s room, just over the front porch, was really worthy of her. It was a bower of whiteness and innocence. It had lattice windows which looked out on to the lovely grounds. Climbing roses peeped in through the narrow panes, and sent their sweet fragrance to greet the child when the windows were open and she put her head out.
Sibyl thought more than ever of her father as she took possession of the lovely room at Silverbel. What a beautiful world it was! and what a happy little girl she, Sibyl, thought herself in possessing such perfect parents. Her prayers became now passionate thanks. She had got so much that it seemed unkind to ask Lord Jesus for one thing more. Of course, He was making the mine full of gold, and He was making her father very, very rich, and everyone, everyone she knew was soon to be happy.
Lady Helen Douglas came to stay at Silverbel, and this seemed to give an added touch to the child’s sense of enjoyment, for Lady Helen had at last, in a shy half whisper, told the eager little listener that she did love Mr. Rochester, and, further, that they were only waiting to proclaim their engagement to the world until the happy time when Sibyl’s father came back.
“For Jim,” continued Lady Helen, “will take shares in the Lombard Deeps, and as soon as ever he does this we can afford to marry. But you must not speak of this, Sibyl. I have only confided in you because you have been our very good friend all along.”