“What fearful creatures men with consciences are,” moaned Mrs. Ogilvie.
Meanwhile Ogilvie walked quickly up the avenue. Just at the gates he met an old couple who were coming in. They were a queer-looking old pair, dressed in old-fashioned style. Ogilvie did not know them, but the woman paused when she saw him, came forward, dropped a curtsey and said:
“I beg your pardon, sir.”
“What can I do for you?” said Ogilvie. He tried to speak courteously, but this delay, and the presence of the old couple whose names he did not even know, irritated him.
“If you please, sir, you are Mr. Ogilvie?”
“That is my name.”
“We know you,” continued the old woman, “by the likeness to your little daughter.”
The mention of Sibyl caused Ogilvie now to regard them more attentively.
“May I inquire your names?” he asked.