"You called me away from the other children 'cos you wanted to speak
about father, didn't you? Please tell me all about him. Is he quite
well?"
"Of course he is."
"Did he ask about me?"
"Yes, he asked me how you were."
"And what did you say?"
"I replied, with truth, that I had twice had the pleasure of seeing
you; once when you were very rude to me, once when you were equally
polite."
Sibyl's eyes began to dance.
"What are you thinking of, eight-year-old?" asked Lord Grayleigh.
"Of you," answered Sibyl with promptitude.
"Come, that's very interesting; what about me? Now, be quite frank and
tell me why you were rude to me the first time we met?"
"May I?" said Sibyl with great eagerness. "Do you really, truly mean
it?"
"I certainly mean it."
"You won't tell--mother?"
"I won't tell--mother," said Lord Grayleigh, mimicking her manner.
Sibyl gave a long, deep sigh.
"I am glad," she said with emphasis. "I don't want my ownest mother to
be hurt. She tries so hard, and she is so beautiful and perfect. It's
most 'portant that I should speak to you, and if you will promise----"
"I have promised; whatever you say shall be secret. Now, out with it."
"You won't like it," said Sibyl.
"You must leave me to judge of that."
"I am going to be fwightfully rude."
"Indeed! that is highly diverting."
"I don't know what diverting is, but it will hurt you."
"I believe I can survive the pain."
Sibyl looked full at him then.
"Are you laughing at me?" she said, and she jumped down from her high
chair.
"I would not dream of doing so."
The curious amused expression died out of Lord Grayleigh's eyes. He
somehow felt that he was confronting Sibyl's father with all those
unpleasant new scruples in full force.
"Speak away, little girl," he said, "I promise not to laugh. I will
listen to you with respect. You are an uncommon child, very like your
father."
"Thank you for saying that, but it isn't true; for father's perfect,
and I'm not. I will tell you now why I was rude, and why I am going to
be rude again, monstrous rude. It is because you told lies."
"Indeed!" said Lord Grayleigh, pretending to be shocked. "Do you know
that that is a shocking accusation? If a man, for instance, had said
that sort of thing to another man a few years back, it would have been
a case for swords."
"I don't understand what that means," said Sibyl.
"For a duel; you have heard of a duel?"
"Oh, in history, of course," said Sibyl, her eyes sparkling, "and one
man kills another man. They run swords through each other until one of
them gets killed dead. I wish I was a man."
"Do you really want to run a sword through me?"
Sibyl made no answer to this; she shut her lips firmly, her eyes
ablaze.
"Come," said Lord Grayleigh, "it is unfair to accuse a man and not to
prove your accusation. What lies have I told?"
"About my father."
"Hullo! I suppose I am stupid, but I fail to understand."
"I will try and 'splain. I didn't know that you was stupid, but you do
tell lies."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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