ect.
Philip must not be quixotic, he must accept the good things the gods
sent him. Additional wealth would add so immensely to their happiness.
"Money _is_ everything," she thought, "whatever Lord Grayleigh may
say. Those who refuse it are fools, and worse. Lord Grayleigh and I
must bring Philip to his senses."
She moved restlessly on her sofa, and looked across the comfortable
room.
With a little more wealth she could hold her own with her friends and
acquaintances, and present a good figure in that world of society
which was her one idea of heaven. Above all things, debts, which came
between her and perfect bliss, could be cleared off. Her creditors
would not wait for payment much longer, but if Philip assayed the new
mine, he would be handsomely paid for his pains, and all her own cares
would take to themselves wings and fly away. Why did he hesitate? How
tiresome he was! Surely his life had not been so immaculate up to the
present that he should hesitate thus when the golden opportunity to
secure a vast fortune arrived.
Ogilvie came of one of the best old families across the border, and
had a modest competence of his own handed down to him from a long line
of honorable ancestors. He had also inherited a certain code which he
could not easily forget. He called it a code of honor, and Mrs.
Ogilvie, alas! did not understand it. She reflected over the
situation now, and grew restless. If Philip was really such a goose as
to refuse his present chance, she would never forgive him. She would
bring up to him continually the golden opportunity he had let slip,
and weary his very soul. She was the sort of soft, pretty woman who
could nag a man to the verge of distraction. She knew that inestimable
art to perfection. She felt, as she lay on the sofa and toyed with the
ribbons of her pretty and expensive teagown, that she had her weapons
ready to hand. Then, with an irritated flash, she thought of the
child. Of course the child was nice, handsome, and her own; Sibyl was
very lucky to have at least one parent who would not spoil her. But
was she not being spoiled? Were there not some things intolerable
about her?
"May I come in, Mumsy, or are you too tired?" There was something in
the quality of the voice at the door which caused Mrs. Ogilvie's
callous heart to beat quicker for a moment, then she said in an
irritated tone--
"Oh, come in, of course; I want to speak to you."
Sibyl entered. Nurse had changed her h
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