“I see four little figures dancing about among those trees,” said Lord Grayleigh. “We will see them all together.”
They turned down a side walk, and came face to face with Sibyl herself. Now, at that instant the little girl certainly did not look at her best. The holland frock, short and shabby, had a great rent above the knee, her soft cheek was scratched and bleeding slightly, and there was a smudge across her forehead.
Sibyl, quite unconscious of these defects, flew to her mother’s side.
“Oh, Mummy,” she cried, “I’m so happy. Gus has been teaching me to climb. Do you see that beech tree? I climbed as far as the second branch, and Gus said I did it splendid. It’s lovely to sit up there.”
Sibyl did not even notice Lord Grayleigh, who stood and watched this little scene with an amused face. Mrs. Ogilvie was by no means pleased.
“What do you mean, Sibyl,” she said, “by wearing that disgraceful frock? Why did nurse put it into your trunk? And you know I do not wish you to climb trees. You are an extremely naughty girl. No, Lord Grayleigh, I will not introduce my little daughter to you now. When you are properly dressed, Sibyl, and know how to behave yourself, you shall have the honor of shaking hands with Lord Grayleigh. Go into the house, now, I am ashamed of you.”
Sibyl turned first red and then white.
“Is that Lord Grayleigh?” she whispered.
“Yes, my dear, but I shall not answer any of your other questions at present. I am extremely displeased with you.”
“I am sorry you are angry, mother; but may I—may I say one thing, just one, afore I go?”