of Sibyl's face and the look in her eyes, when
she spoke of her perfect father. Then he glanced at the man who,
silent and with suppressed suffering in his face, stood before him.
The irresolution in Ogilvie's face took something from its character,
and seemed to lower the man's whole nature. Lord Grayleigh shivered;
then the uncomfortable sensation which the memory of Sibyl gave him
passed away.

"I shall regret it extremely if you cannot do what I want," he said,
with emphasis.

Ogilvie had a quick sensation of momentary relief. His wife owed
another two thousand pounds. It would be bankruptcy, ruin if he did
not go. He stood up.

"The time for discussing the thing is over," he said. "I will
go--and--do _as you wish_. The only thing to put straight is the price
down."

"What do you mean by the price down?"

"I want money."

"Of course, you shall have it."

"I want more than my expenses, and something to cover the loss to my
business which my absence may create."

"How much more?" Lord Grayleigh looked at him anxiously.

"Ten thousand pounds in cash now, to be placed to my credit in my
bank."

"Ten thousand pounds in cash! That is a big order."

"Not too big for what you require me to do. You make hundreds of
thousands by me eventually; what is one ten thousand? It will relieve
my mind and set a certain matter straight. The fact is--I will confide
in you so far--my own pecuniary affairs are anything but flourishing.
I have had some calls to meet. What little property I own is settled
on my wife. You know that a man cannot interfere with his marriage
settlements. I have one child. I want to make a special provision for
her."

"I know your child," said Lord Grayleigh, in a very grave tone; "she
is out of the common."

A spasm of pain crossed the father's face.

"She is," he answered slowly. "I wish to make a provision for her. If
I die (I may die, we are all mortal; I am going to a distant place;
possibilities in favor of death are ten per cent. greater than if I
remain at home)--if I die, this will be hers. It will comfort me, and
make it absolutely impossible for me to go back. You understand that
sometimes a miserable starved voice within me speaks. I allude to the
voice of conscience. However much it clamors, I cannot listen to it
when that sum of money lies in the bank to my credit, with my last
will and testament leaving it eventually to my daughter."

"I would not give your daughter such a p