Lord Grayleigh shrugged his shoulders. The action was significant. "I see," cried Ogilvie. He was silent for a moment, then he sprang to his feet. "I have regarded you as my friend for some time, Grayleigh, and there have been moments when I have been proud of your acquaintanceship, but in the name of all that is honorable, and all that is virtuous, why will you mix up a pretended act of benevolence to me with--you know what it means--a fraudulent scheme? You are determined that there shall be a rich vein below the surface. In plain words, if there is not, you want a false assay of the Lombard Deeps. That is the plain English of it, isn't it?" "Pooh! my dear Ogilvie, you use harsh words. Fraudulent! What does the world--our world I mean--consist of? Those who make money, and those who lose it. It is a great competition of skill--a mere duel of wits. All is fair in love, war, and speculation." "Your emendation of that old proverb may be _fin de siècle_, but it does not suit my notions," muttered Ogilvie, sitting down again. Grayleigh looked keenly at him. "You will be sorry for this," he said; "it means much to you. You would be quite safe, you know that." "And what of the poor country parson, the widow, the mechanic? I grant they are fools; but----" "What is the matter with you?" said Lord Grayleigh; "you never were so scrupulous." "I don't know that I am scrupulous now. I shall be very glad to assay the mine for you, if I may give you a----" "We need not enter into that," said Grayleigh, rising; "you have already put matters into words which had better never have been uttered. I will ask you to reconsider this: it is a task too important to decline without weighing all the _pros_ and _cons_. You shall have big pay for your services; big pay, you understand." "And it is that which at once tempts and repels me," said Ogilvie. Then he paused, and said abruptly, "How is Sibyl? Have you seen much of her?" "Your little daughter? I saw her twice. Once, when she was very dirty, and rather rude to me, and a second time, when she was the perfection of politeness and good manners." "Sibyl is peculiar," said Ogilvie, and his eyes gleamed with a flash of the same light in them which Sibyl's wore at intervals. "She is a handsome child, it is a pity she is your only one, Ogilvie." "Not at all," answered Ogilvie; "I never wish for another, she satisfies me completely." "Well, to turn to the present matter," said Lord Grayleigh; "you will reconsider your refusal?" "I would rather not." "But if I as a personal favor beg you to do so." "There is not the slightest doubt that the pay tempts me," said Ogilvie; "it would be a kindness on your part to close the matter now finally, to relieve me from temptation. But suppose I were to--to yield, what would the shareholders say?" "They would be managed. The shareholders will expect to pay the engineer who assays the mine for them handsomely."