"I will come back again, presently," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "By the way, Sib darling, Lord Grayleigh is coming to our bazaar, the bazaar for which you are dressing dolls." "Nursie is dressing them," replied Sibyl in a weak voice--the mother did not notice how weak it was, but Lord Grayleigh did. "It somehow tires me to work. I 'spect I'm not very strong, but I'll be better perhaps to-morrow. Nursie is dressing them, and they are quite beautiful." "Well, I'll come back soon; you mustn't tire her, Lord Grayleigh, and you and I have a great deal to talk over when you do come downstairs." "I must return to town by the next train," said Lord Grayleigh; but Mrs. Ogilvie did not hear him. She went quickly away to join the friends who were waiting for her in the sunny garden. "Lord Grayleigh has come," she said. "He is quite devoted to Sibyl; he is sitting with her for a few minutes; the child worships him. Afterward he and I must have a rather business-like conversation." "Then we will go, dear Mrs. Ogilvie," said both ladies. "Thank you, dear friends; I hope you don't think I am sending you away, but it is always my custom to speak plainly. Lord Grayleigh will be our principal patron at the bazaar, and naturally I have much to consult him about. I will drive over to-morrow to see you, Mrs. Le Strange, and we can discuss still further the sort of stall you will have." The ladies took their leave, and Mrs. Ogilvie paced up and down in front of the house. She was restless, and presently a slight sense of disappointment stole over her, for Lord Grayleigh was staying an unconscionably long time in Sibyl's room. Sibyl and he were having what he said afterward was quite a straight talk. "I am so glad you have come," said the little girl; "there are some things you can tell me that no one else can. Have you heard from father lately?" "I had a cablegram from him not long ago." "What's that?" "The same as a telegram; a cablegram is a message that comes across the sea." "I understand," said Sibyl. She thought of her pretty fancy of the phantom ships that took her night after night to the breast of her father. "What are you thinking about?" said Lord Grayleigh. "Oh, about father, of course. When he sent you that message did he tell you there was much gold in the mine?" "My dear child," said Lord Grayleigh, "what do you know about it?" "I know all about it," answered Sybil. "I am deeply interested, deeply." "Well, my dear little girl, to judge from your father's message, the mine is full of gold, quite full." "Up to the tip top?" "Yes, you can express it in that way if you like, up to the tip top and down, nobody knows how deep, full of beautiful yellow gold, but don't let us talk of these things any more. Tell me how you really fell, and what that naughty pony did to you." "You must not scold my darling nameless pony, it was not his fault a bit," said Sibyl. She turned first red and then whiter than usual.