pray don't let the matter be disturbed again. I shall order
furniture immediately. You are quite a raven, a croaker of bad news,
Mr. Acland."

Mr. Acland raised his hand in deprecation.

"I thought it only fair to tell you," he answered, and the next moment
he left the house. As he did so, he uttered a solitary remark:

"What a fool that woman is! I pity Ogilvie."

CHAPTER XIII.

It was the last week in July when Mrs. Ogilvie took possession of
Silverbel. She had ordered furniture in her usual reckless fashion,
going to the different shops where she knew she could obtain credit.
The house, already beautiful, looked quite lovely when decorated by
the skilful hands which arranged draperies and put furniture into the
most advantageous positions.

Sibyl's room, just over the front porch, was really worthy of her. It
was a bower of whiteness and innocence. It had lattice windows which
looked out on to the lovely grounds. Climbing roses peeped in through
the narrow panes, and sent their sweet fragrance to greet the child
when the windows were open and she put her head out.

Sibyl thought more than ever of her father as she took possession of
the lovely room at Silverbel. What a beautiful world it was! and what
a happy little girl she, Sibyl, thought herself in possessing such
perfect parents. Her prayers became now passionate thanks. She had got
so much that it seemed unkind to ask Lord Jesus for one thing more. Of
course, He was making the mine full of gold, and He was making her
father very, very rich, and everyone, everyone she knew was soon to be
happy.

Lady Helen Douglas came to stay at Silverbel, and this seemed to give
an added touch to the child's sense of enjoyment, for Lady Helen had
at last, in a shy half whisper, told the eager little listener that
she did love Mr. Rochester, and, further, that they were only waiting
to proclaim their engagement to the world until the happy time when
Sibyl's father came back.

"For Jim," continued Lady Helen, "will take shares in the Lombard
Deeps, and as soon as ever he does this we can afford to marry. But
you must not speak of this, Sibyl. I have only confided in you because
you have been our very good friend all along."

Sibyl longed to write off at once to her father to hurry up matters
with regard to the gold mine.

"Of course, it is full of gold, quite full," thought the child; "but I
hope father will write, or, better still, come home quickly and tel