encircled his neck with
her soft arms and pressed many kisses on his face.

On these occasions Philip Ogilvie felt uncomfortable, for he was a man
with many passions and beset with infirmities, and at the time when
Sibyl praised him most, when she uttered her charming, confident
words, and raised her eyes full of absolute faith to his, he was
thinking with a strange acute pain at his heart of a transaction which
he might undertake and of a temptation which he knew well was soon to
be presented to him.

"I should not like the child to know about it," was his reflection;
"but all the same, if I do it, if I fall, it will be for her sake, for
hers alone."

CHAPTER II

Sibyl skipped down to the drawing-room with her spirits brimful of
happiness. She opened the door wide and danced in.

"Here I come," she cried, "here I come, buttercups and daisies and
violets and me." She looked from one parent to the other, held out her
flowing short skirts with each dimpled hand, and danced across the
room.

Mrs. Ogilvie had tears in her eyes; she had just come to the
sentimental part of her quarrel. At sight of the child she rose
hastily, and walked to the window. Philip Ogilvie went down the room,
put both his hands around Sibyl's waist, and lifted her to a level
with his shoulders.

"What a fairy-like little girl this is!" he cried.

"You are Spring come to cheer us up."

"I am glad," whispered Sibyl; "but let me down, please, father, I want
to kiss mother."

Mr. Ogilvie dropped her to the ground. She ran up to her mother.

"Father says I am Spring, look at me," she said, and she gazed into
the beautiful, somewhat sullen face of her parent.

Mrs. Ogilvie had hoped that Sibyl would not notice her tears, but
Sibyl, gentle as she looked, had the eyes of a hawk.

"Something is fretting my ownest mother," she whispered under her
breath, and then she took her mother's soft hand and covered it with
kisses. After kissing it, she patted it, and then she returned to her
father's side.

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Ogilvie knew why, but as soon as Sibyl entered
the room it seemed ridiculous for them to quarrel. Mrs. Ogilvie turned
with an effort, said something kind to her husband, he responded
courteously, then the dinner gong sounded, and the three entered the
dining-room.

It was one of the customs of the house that Sibyl, when they dined
alone, should always sit with her parents during this hour. Mrs.
Ogilvie objected to