"I really will not stay here to be lectured," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "It is to your advantage, doubtless, that Philip should do something for you; it must be to your advantage, for you are going to pay him well. Will he do it, or will he not? That is the question I want answered." "And I cannot answer it, for I do not know." "But you think he will?" "That is my impression." "You can, at least, tell me what occurred." "I can give you an outline of what occurred. I made him an offer to go to Queensland." "To go where?" said Mrs. Ogilvie, looking slightly startled. "As the mine happens to be in Queensland, how can he assay it in England?" "I didn't know." "Yes, if he does anything, he must go to Queensland. He must see the mine or mines himself; his personal report is essential. He will be paid well, and will receive a large number of shares." "What do you mean by being paid well?" "He will have his expenses, and something over." "Something over! that is a very elastic term." "In your husband's case it will mean thousands." "Oh, I see; and then the shares?" "The shares will practically make him a rich man." "Then of course he will consent. I will go at once, and send him a line." She turned to leave the summer-house. Lord Grayleigh followed her. He laid his hand for an instant on her slim arm. "If I were you," he said, and there was an unwonted tremble in his voice as he spoke, "if I were you, upon my honor, I'd leave him alone." "Leave him alone now? Why should not the wife influence the husband for his own good?" "Very well," said Lord Grayleigh; "I only ventured to make a suggestion." She looked at him in a puzzled way, raised her brows, and said: "I never found you so disagreeable before." She then left the summer-house. Lord Grayleigh stood still for a moment, then, with quick strides, he went in the direction of the shrubbery. Sibyl, hot, excited, breathless after her game, did not even see him. He called her and she stopped. "May I speak to you?" he said. He had the courteous manner to her which he did not vouch-safe to many of his gay lady acquaintances. She ran to his side at once. "Don't you want to send your father a letter by this post?" "Yes, of course; is there time?" "I will make time; go into the house and write to him." "But why?" "He would like to hear from you." "Do you want me to say anything special?" "Nothing special; write to him from your heart, that is all." And then Lord Grayleigh turned away in the direction of his stables. He ordered the groom to saddle his favorite horse, and was soon careering across country. Sibyl's letter to her father was short, badly spelt, and brimful of love. Mrs. Ogilvie's was also short, and brimful of worldliness. The two letters, each as wide as the poles apart in spirit and in intention, met in the post-box, and were each carried as rapidly as mail trains could take them to the metropolis.