incited?"

"You are a very silly, rude little girl," replied the mother. "You
must not make the sort of remarks you are always making to Mr.
Rochester and Lady Helen. Such remarks are in very bad form. Now,
don't take even the slightest notice when they return."

"Aren't I to speak to them?" asked Sibyl, raising her eyes in wonder.

"Of course, but you are not to say anything special."

"Oh, nothing special. Am I to talk about the weather?"

"No; don't be such a little goose."

"I always notice," replied Sibyl, softly, "that when _quite_ strangers
meet, they talk about the weather. I thought that was why. Can't I say
anything more--more as if they were my very dear old friends? I
thought they'd like it. I thought they'd like to know that there was
one here who understanded all about it."

"About it?"

"Their love, mother, their love for--for each other."

"Who may the one be who is supposed to understand?"

"Me, mother," said Sibyl.

Mrs. Ogilvie burst into a ringing laugh.

"You are a most ridiculous little girl," she said. "Now, listen; you
are not to take any notice when they come back. They are not engaged;
perhaps they never will be. Anyhow, you will make yourself an
intensely disagreeable child if you make such remarks as you have
already made. Do you understand?"

"You has put it plain, mother," replied Sibyl. "I think I do. Now,
let's look at the flowers."

"I have ordered the landlord of the inn to serve tea on the lawn,"
continued Mrs. Ogilvie. "Is it not nice to feel that we are going to
have tea on our own lawn, Sibyl?"

"It's lovely!" replied Sibyl.

"I am devoted to the country," continued the mother; "there is no
place like the country for me."

"So I think, too," replied Sibyl. "I love the country. We'll have all
the very poorest people down here, won't we, mother?"

"What do you mean?"

"All the people who want to be made happy; Mr. and Mrs. Holman, and
the other faded old people in the almshouses that I went to see one
time with Miss Winstead."

"Now you are talking in your silly way again," replied Mrs. Ogilvie.
"You make me quite cross when you talk of that old couple, Mr. and
Mrs. Holman."

"But, mother, why aren't they to be rich if we are to be rich? Do you
know that Mrs. Holman is saving up her money to buy some of the gold
out of father's mine. She expects to get two hundred pounds instead of
one. It's very puzzling, and yet I seem to understand. Oh, here comes
Mr. L