“Of course I am, and aren’t you. Don’t you like to make people happy?”
Again Lord Grayleigh moved restlessly.
“Have you any other notes for this book?” he said.
“Of course I have. There’s the one who wants to marry the other one. I’m under a vow not to mention names, but they want to marry so badly, and they will in double quick time if there’s gold in the mine. Will you put in your note-book ‘Gold to be kept for the one who wants to marry the other,’ will you, Lord Grayleigh?”
“I have entered it,” said Lord Grayleigh, suppressing a smile.
“And mother, of course,” continued Sibyl, “wants lots of money, and there’s my nurse, her eyes are failing, she would like enough gold to keep her from mending stockings or doing any more fine darning, and I’d like Watson to have some. Do you know, Lord Grayleigh, that Watson is engaged to be married? He is really, truly.”
“I am afraid, Sibyl, I do not know who Watson is.”
“Don’t you? How funny; he is our footman. I’m awfully fond of him. He is full of the best impulses, is Watson, and he is engaged to a very nice girl in the cookery line. Don’t you think it’s very sensible of Watson to engage himself to a girl in the cookery line?”
“I think it is thoroughly sensible, but now I must really go.”