The bazaar was expected to last for quite three days, and, during that time, a spirited band would play, and there would be various entertainments of all sorts and descriptions. Little boats, with colored flags and awnings, were to be in requisition on the brink of the river, and people should pay heavily for the privilege of occupying these boats. Mrs. Ogilvie clapped her hands almost childishly when this last brilliant idea came to her, and Sibyl thought that it was worthy of mother, and entered into the scheme with childish enthusiasm. The third week in August was finally decided as the best week for the bazaar, and those friends who were not going abroad promised to stay at Silverbel for the occasion. Some weeks after Mrs. Ogilvie had taken possession of Silverbel, Mr. Acland called to see her. "We have had no cable yet from your husband," he said, "and the rumors continue to be ominous. I wish with all my heart we could silence them. I, myself, believe in the Lombard Deeps, for Grayleigh is the last man to lend his name or become chairman of a company which has not brilliant prospects; but I can see that even he is a little anxious." "Oh, pray don't croak," was Mrs. Ogilvie's response and then she once again likened Mr. Acland to the raven. "You are a bird of ill-omen," she said, shaking her finger playfully in his face. He frowned as she addressed him; he could not see the witticism of her remark. "When people are perfectly happy and know nothing whatever with regard to business, what is the good of coming and telling these dismalities?" she continued. "I am nothing but a poor little feminine creature, trying to do good, and to make myself happy in an innocent way. Why will you come and croak? I know Philip quite well enough to be certain that he would not have set foot on this expedition if he had not been satisfied in advance that the mine was a good one." "That is my own impression," said Mr. Acland, thoughtfully; "but don't forget you are expected to complete the purchase of Silverbel by the end of October." "Oh! Philip will be back before then," answered Mrs. Ogilvie in a light and cheerful tone. "Any day now we may get a cablegram. Well, sweetheart, and what are you doing here?" Sibyl had entered the room, and was leaning against the window frame. "Any day we may expect what to happen, mother darling?" she asked. "We may expect a cable from father to say he is coming back again." "Oh! do you think so? Oh, I am so happy!"