daringness had left her. She was trying to be good. It was extremely
irksome, but when she succeeded she felt a great glow of pleasure, for
she believed herself near to her father.

"Miss Winstead," she said suddenly, "I have been thinking of
something. It is most terribly 'portant. Would you greatly mind if we
went to see the Holmans before we go back?"

"We shan't have time," replied Miss Winstead.

"Oh, but I want to go," said Sibyl, knitting her brows, "don't let us
go into the stupid Park, do come to the Holmans."

"I cannot do it, Sibyl, it is impossible. We must be back rather early
for lunch to-day, as your mother is going into the country this
afternoon."

"Mother going into the country, what for?"

"I cannot tell you, it is not my affair."

"That means that you know, but you won't tell."

"You can put it in that way if you like. I won't tell. Now come into
the Park, we can sit on one of the chairs under the trees and keep
cool."

Sibyl obeyed unwillingly. She felt, as she said afterwards, as if Miss
Winstead had rubbed her the wrong way.

"I am like a pussy-cat when its fur is rubbed quite the wrong side
up," thought the little girl. "I don't like it, not a bit."

Presently she slipped her hand through her governess's arm, and said
in a coaxing voice--

"Do come home through Greek Street; I do want just to say one word to
Mr. Holman, you can't think how 'portant it is."

"I cannot, Sibyl; you must not ask me again." Here Miss Winstead took
out her watch.

"We must hurry home," she said; "I had not the least idea the time was
going so fast."

They left the Park, and came back in time for lunch. During lunch
both Mrs. Ogilvie and her little daughter were very silent. Sibyl was
thinking of the Holmans, and how more than important it was that she
should see them soon, and Mrs. Ogilvie had another thought in her
head, a thought which caused her eyes to dance with pleasure.

"Why isn't Mr. Rochester here?" said the little girl at last.

"He could not stay," replied Mrs. Ogilvie. "You and he are great
friends, are you not, Sib?"

"He is nice, he is very nice," said the child; "he and Lady Helen--oh,
more than nice. I like 'em very much, don't you, mother?"

"Yes, dear." Mrs. Ogilvie got up. "Good-by, Sibyl, I shall be back
late this evening."

"Good-by, mother dear."

Mrs. Ogilvie left the room. Miss Winstead, having finished her lunch,
desired Sibyl to be quick with hers, and then to fol