This, indeed, was a powerful bait. Sibyl’s soft lips trembled slightly. The wistful look in her eyes became appealing.
“Pathetic eyes, more pathetic than any dog’s,” thought Lord Grayleigh. He took her hand.
“You and I will walk by ourselves for a little,” he said. “Run away, children. Sibyl will join you in a few moments.”
Sibyl, as if mesmerized, now accompanied Lord Grayleigh. She disliked her present position immensely, and yet she wondered if it was given to her by Lord Jesus, as a special opportunity which she was on no account to neglect. Should she tell Lord Grayleigh what she really thought of him? But for her mother she would not have hesitated for a moment, but that mother had been very kind to her during the last two days, and Sibyl had enjoyed studying her character from a new point of view. Mother was polite to people, even though they were not quite perfect. Mother always looked sweet and tidy and ladylike, and beautifully dressed. Mother never romped, nor tore her clothes, nor climbed trees. It was an uninteresting life from Sibyl’s point of view, and yet, perhaps, it was the right life. Up to the present the child had never seriously thought of her own conduct at all. She accepted the fact with placidity that she herself was not good. It was rather interesting to be “not good,” and yet to live in the house with two perfectly angelic beings. It seemed to make their goodness all the whiter. At the present moment she longed earnestly to be “not good.”
Lord Grayleigh, holding her hand, advanced in the direction of a summer-house.
“We will sit here and talk, shall we?” he said.
“Yes, shall us?” replied Sibyl.
Lord Grayleigh smiled; he placed himself in a comfortable chair, and motioned Sibyl to take another. She drew a similar chair forward, placed it opposite to her host, and sat on it. It was a high chair, and her feet did not reach the ground.
“I ’spect I’m rather short for my age,” she said, looking down and speaking in a tone of apology.
“Why, how old are you?” he asked.