ven expression to her feelings. So why
should she now grieve little Sibyl by showing undue sorrow?

"It is nice to look at you, dearie," she repeated, "and what a pretty
room you have, my love."

"Everything is beautiful," said little Sibyl, "everything in all the
world, and I love you so much."

"To be sure, darling, and so do Holman and I love you."

"Whisper," said Sibyl, "bend a little nearer, my voice gets so very
tired. Have you kept your hundred pounds quite safe?"

"Yes, darling, but we won't talk of money now."

"Only," said Sibyl, "when the gold comes from the mine _you'll_ be all
right. Lord Grayleigh has wrote your name and Mr. Holman's in his
note-book, and he has promised that you are to get some of the gold.
You'll be able to have the shop in Buckingham Palace Road, and the
children will come to you and buy your beautiful toys." She paused
here and her little face turned white.

"You must not talk any more, dearie," said Mrs. Holman. "It's all
right about the gold and everything else. All we want is for you to
get well."

"I am getting well," answered Sibyl, but as she said the words a
curious expression came into her eyes.

"You know," she said, as Mrs. Holman rose and took her hand before she
went away, "that when we have wings we fly. I think my wings are
coming; but oh, I love you, and you won't forget me when you have your
big shop in Buckingham Palace Road?"

"We will never forget you, dearie," said Mrs. Holman, and then she
stooped and kissed the child.

"Come, Holman," she said.

"If I might," said old Holman, straightening himself and looking very
solemn, "if I might have the great privilege of kissing little
Missie's hand afore I go."

"Oh, indeed, you may," said Sibyl.

A moment later the old pair were seen going slowly down the avenue.

"Blessed darling, her wings are very near, I'm thinking," said Mrs.
Holman. She was sobbing now, although she had not sobbed in the sick
room.

"Queer woman, the mother," said Holman. "We'll get back to town, wife;
I'm wonderful upset."

"We'll never sell no more of the dusty toys to no other little
children," said Mrs. Holman, and she wept behind her handkerchief.

CHAPTER XXI.

Ogilvie went straight to town. When he arrived at Victoria he took a
hansom and drove to the house of the great doctor who had last seen
Sibyl. Sir Henry Powell was at home. Ogilvie sent in his card and
was admitted almost immediately into his presence