“Wouldn’t father like to hear you. It’s wonderful how he talked to me about being good. I am not really good, you know; but I mean to try. If you were to look into my heart, you would see—oh, but you shan’t look.” She started back, clasped her hands, and laughed. “But when father looks next, he shall see, oh, a white heart with all the naughtiness gone.”
“Tell me exactly what sort of pony you would like,” said Lord Grayleigh, who thought it desirable to turn the conversation.
“It must have a long mane, and not too short a tail,” said Sibyl; “and be sure you give me the very nicest, newest sort of side-saddle, same as mother has herself, for mother’s side-saddle is very comfy. Oh, and I’d like a riding habit like mother’s, too. Mother will be sure to say she can’t ’ford one for me, but you’ll give me one if you give me the pony and the side-saddle, won’t you?”
“I’ll give you the pony and the side-saddle, and the habit,” said Lord Grayleigh. “I’ll choose the pony to-morrow, and bring him back with me. I am going to Lyndhurst, in the New Forest, where they are going to have a big horse fair. You will not mind having a New Forest pony instead of a Shetland?”
“A perfect person could not tell a lie, could she?” asked Sibyl.—Page [123.] Daddy’s Girl.
“I don’t mind what sort my darling pony is,” answered the child. “I only want to have it. Oh, you are nice. I began by not liking you, but I like you awfully now. You are very nice, indeed.”
“And so are you. It seems to me we suit each other admirably.”
“There are lots of nice people in the world,” said Sibyl. “It’s a very pleasant place. There are two quite perfect, and there are others very nice; you and Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen. But, oh, Lord Grayleigh, I know now what I wanted to say. A perfect person couldn’t never tell a lie, could she?”
“Oh, it’s the feminine gender,” said Lord Grayleigh softly, under his breath.