“Won’t you come to the schoolroom now?” asked Gus in a tone of remonstrance.
“No; mother said I was to go to bed,” answered Sibyl.
“How proper and good you have turned,” cried Mabel.
“Good-night,” said Sibyl. She could be quite dignified when she pleased. She allowed the girls to kiss her, and she shook hands with Gus, and felt grown-up, and, on the whole, notwithstanding the unsatisfied feeling at her heart, rather pleased with herself. She entered the room she called the nursery, and it looked cheerful and bright. Old nurse had had the fire lit, and was sitting by it. A kettle steamed on the hob, and nurse’s cup and saucer and teapot, and some bread and butter and cakes, were spread on the table. But as Sibyl came in the sense of satisfaction which she had felt for a moment or two dropped away from her like a mantle, and she only knew that the ache at her heart was worse than ever. She sat down quietly, and did not speak, but gazed fixedly into the fire.
“What is it, pet?” nurse said. “Is anything the matter?”
“No,” answered Sibyl. “Nursie, can I read the Bible a bit?”
“Sakes alive!” cried nurse, for Sibyl had never been remarkable for any religious tendency, “to be sure, my darling,” she answered. “I never go from home without my precious Bible. It is the one my mother gave me when I was a little girl. I’ll fetch it for you, dearie.”
“Thank you,” replied Sibyl.
Nurse returned, and the much-read, much-worn Bible was placed reverently in Sibyl’s hands.