t 'cos I'm a wicked girl you're sad?"

"No," he answered, "you are not wicked, my darling; you are the best,
the sweetest in all the world."

"Oh, no, father," answered Sibyl, "that is not true. I am not the best
nor the sweetest, and I wouldn't like to be too good, 'cept for you.
Good-night, darling father."

Mr. and Mrs. Ogilvie returned to the drawing-room.

"You spoil that child," said the wife, "but it is on a par with
everything else you do. You have no perception of what is right. I
don't pretend to be a good mother, but I don't talk nonsense to Sibyl.
She ought not to speak about nurse and governess before servants, and
it is disgraceful of her to drag the footman and his concerns into the
conversation at dinner. She ought not, also, to boast about doing
naughty things."

"I wish you would leave the child alone," said Ogilvie in an annoyed
voice; "she is good enough for me, little pet, and I would not have
her altered for the world. But now, Mildred, to return to our cause of
dissension before dinner, we must get this matter arranged. What do
you mean to do about your invitation to Grayleigh Manor?"

"I have given you my views on that subject, Philip; I am going."

"I would much rather you did not."

"I am sorry." Mrs. Ogilvie shrugged her shoulders. "I am willing to
please you in all reasonable matters; this is unreasonable, therefore
I shall take my own way."

"It is impossible for me to accompany you."

"I can live without you for a few days, and I shall take the child."

"Sibyl! No, I do not wish it."

"I fear you must put up with it. I have written to say that Sibyl and
I will go down on Saturday."

Ogilvie, who had been seated, now rose, and went to the window. He
looked out with a dreary expression on his face.

"You know as well as I do the reasons why it would be best for you not
to go to Grayleigh Manor at present," he said. "You can easily write
to give an excuse. Remember, we were both asked, and the fact that I
cannot leave town is sufficient reason for you to decline."

"I am going," said Mrs. Ogilvie. Her eyes, which were large and dark,
flashed with defiance. Ogilvie looked at her with a frown between his
brows.

"Is that your last word?" he inquired.

"It is, I go on Saturday. If you were not so disagreeable and
disobliging you could easily come with me, but you never do anything
to please me."

"Nor you to please me, Mildred," he was about to say, but he
restrained himse