“I like old Scott, he’s a very religious man.”
“That he is, darling,” replied nurse.
“Seems to me I’m getting religious too,” continued Sibyl. “It’s ’cos of Lord Jesus, I ’spect. He is kind to me, is Lord Jesus. He takes me to father every night.”
The days went by, and Mrs. Ogilvie, who was recovering her normal spirits hour by hour, now made up her mind that Sibyl’s recovery was merely a question of time, that she would soon be as well as ever, and as this was the case, surely it seemed a sad pity that the bazaar, which had been postponed, should not take place.
“The bazaar will amuse the child, besides doing a great deal of good to others,” thought Mrs. Ogilvie.
No sooner had this idea come to her, than she found her engagement-book, and looked up several items. The bazaar had of course been postponed from the original date, but it would be easy to have it on the 24th of September. The 24th was in all respects a suitable date, and those people who had not gone abroad or to Scotland would be glad to spend a week in the beautiful country house. It was such a sad pity, thought Mrs. Ogilvie, not to use the new furniture to the best advantage, not to sleep in the new beds, not to make use of all the accessories which had cost so much money, or rather which had cost so many debts, for not a scrap of the furniture was paid for, and the house itself was only held on sufferance.
“It will be doing such a good work,” said Mrs. Ogilvie to herself. “I shall be not only entertaining my friends and amusing dear little Sibyl, but I shall be collecting money for an excellent charity.”
In the highest spirits she ran upstairs and burst into her little daughter’s room.
“Oh, Mummy,” said Sibyl. She smiled and said faintly, “Come and kiss me, Mummy.”