"If I have a stall I will certainly choose a flower stall," replied Lady Helen, and she smiled at Sibyl, and patted her hand. They soon arrived at Richmond, and got into the carriage which was waiting for them, and drove to Silverbel. They had lunch at the inn as arranged, and then they wandered about the grounds, and presently Sibyl had her wish, for Rochester and Lady Helen strolled away from her mother and herself, and walked down a shady path to the right of the house. "There they go!" cried the child. "There who go, Sibyl?" asked Mrs. Ogilvie. "The one who wants to marry the other," replied Sibyl. "Hush, mother, we are not to know, we are to be quite blind. Aren't you awfully incited?" "You are a very silly, rude little girl," replied the mother. "You must not make the sort of remarks you are always making to Mr. Rochester and Lady Helen. Such remarks are in very bad form. Now, don't take even the slightest notice when they return." "Aren't I to speak to them?" asked Sibyl, raising her eyes in wonder. "Of course, but you are not to say anything special." "Oh, nothing special. Am I to talk about the weather?" "No; don't be such a little goose." "I always notice," replied Sibyl, softly, "that when _quite_ strangers meet, they talk about the weather. I thought that was why. Can't I say anything more--more as if they were my very dear old friends? I thought they'd like it. I thought they'd like to know that there was one here who understanded all about it." "About it?" "Their love, mother, their love for--for each other." "Who may the one be who is supposed to understand?" "Me, mother," said Sibyl. Mrs. Ogilvie burst into a ringing laugh. "You are a most ridiculous little girl," she said. "Now, listen; you are not to take any notice when they come back. They are not engaged; perhaps they never will be. Anyhow, you will make yourself an intensely disagreeable child if you make such remarks as you have already made. Do you understand?" "You has put it plain, mother," replied Sibyl. "I think I do. Now, let's look at the flowers." "I have ordered the landlord of the inn to serve tea on the lawn," continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "Is it not nice to feel that we are going to have tea on our own lawn, Sibyl?" "It's lovely!" replied Sibyl. "I am devoted to the country," continued the mother; "there is no place like the country for me." "So I think, too," replied Sibyl. "I love the country. We'll have all the very poorest people down here, won't we, mother?" "What do you mean?" "All the people who want to be made happy; Mr. and Mrs. Holman, and the other faded old people in the almshouses that I went to see one time with Miss Winstead." "Now you are talking in your silly way again," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "You make me quite cross when you talk of that old couple, Mr. and Mrs. Holman."