ave chatted to
him in a moment of her hopes and longings; but, when mother put on
that look, Sibyl knew that she must restrain her emotions, and she sat
back in her seat, and thought about the children who bore the yoke in
their youth, and how good it was for them, and how rapidly she was
growing into the sort of little girl her father most liked.
"Mother," she said, as they got towards the end of the journey, "I'm
'proving, aren't I?"
"Proving, what do you mean?"
"_Im_proving, mother."
"I can't say that I see it, Sibyl; you have been very troublesome for
the last few days."
"Oh!" said the child, "oh!"
Sibyl changed seats from the one opposite, and nestled up close to her
mother, she tucked her hand inside her arm, and then began to talk in
a loud, buzzing whisper.
"It's 'cos of father," she said; "he begged me so earnest to be a good
girl, and I _have_ tried, _haven't_ you noticed it, mother? Won't you
tell him when we get home that I have tried?"
"Don't worry me, Sibyl, you know my views. I want you to be just a
sensible, good child, without any of those high-flown notions. When we
return to town you must make up for your long holiday. You must do
your lessons with extreme care, and try to please Miss Winstead."
"And to please father and Lord Jesus."
"Yes, yes, child."
"And to have a ride every morning on my darling pony?"
"We will try and manage that. Lord Grayleigh has been almost silly
over that pony; I doubt whether it is wise for you to have it."
"Oh, mother, he did say he would buy everything--the pony, the
saddle, the habit, and he would 'ford the food, too. You have not got
to pay out any money, mother, have you?"
"Hush, don't talk so loud."
The old gentleman buried himself in _The Times_ in order not to hear
Sibyl's distressed voice, and the little boy stared out of the window
and got very red.
"Take up your book and stop talking," said Mrs. Ogilvie.
Sibyl took up a book which she already knew by heart, and kept back a
sorrowful sigh.
"But it don't matter," she said to herself; "when I see father, he'll
understand."
They got to town, where a carriage was waiting for them. Sibyl could
scarcely restrain her eagerness.
"Mother, may I ask John if father's likely to be at home? Sometimes he
comes home earlier than usual. P'waps he came home to lunch and is
waiting for us. Can I call out to John through the window, mother?"
"No, sit still, you do fidget so."
"I'l
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