“Mr. Acland lent me two thousand pounds to pay the deposit,” continued the lady, “but we must complete by the end of October. When my husband comes back rich, he will be able to do so. He will come back rich, won’t he?” Here she looked up appealingly at Lord Grayleigh.
“He will come back rich, or we shall have the deluge,” he replied, oracularly. “Don’t be uneasy. As you have not heard I shall cable. I shall wire to Brisbane, which I fancy is his headquarters.”
“Perhaps,” answered Mrs. Ogilvie, in an abstracted tone. “By the way, if you are going back to town, may I make use of your carriage? There are several things I want to order for my bazaar. It is to be in about a fortnight now. You will remember that you are one of the patrons.”
“Certainly,” he answered; “at what date is the bazaar to be held?”
She named the arranged date, and he entered it in a gold-mounted engagement book.
“I shall stay in town to-night,” continued Mrs. Ogilvie. “Just wait for me a moment, and I will get on my hat.”
Soon afterward the two were driving back to the railway station. Mrs. Ogilvie had forgotten all about her engagement to Sibyl. Sibyl saw her go off with a feeling of deep disappointment, for Miss Winstead had a headache, and declined to ride with the little girl. Dan Scott must wait in vain for his apples. But should he wait? Sibyl wondered.
She went down in a discontented way to a distant part of the grounds. She was not feeling at all happy now. It was all very well to have a heart bubbling over with good-nature and kindly impulses; but when those impulses were flung back on herself, then the little girl felt that latent naughtiness which was certainly an integral part of her character. She saw Dan Scott’s old grandfather digging weeds in the back garden. Dan Scott was one of the gardener’s boys. He was a bright, cheery-faced little fellow, with sloe-black eyes and tight-curling hair, and a winsome smile and white teeth. Sibyl had made friends with him at once, and when he ceased to appear on the scenes a week back, she was full of consternation, for Dan had fallen from a tree, and broken his arm rather badly. He had been feverish also, and could not come to attend to his usual work. His old grandfather had at first rated the lad for having got into this trouble, but then he had pitied him.
Sibyl the day before had promised old Scott that she and her mother would ride to Dan’s cottage and present him with a basket of early apples. There were some ripening now on the trees, long in shape, golden in color, and full of delicious juice.