," but she remembered her mother's
injunction. She had been on her very best behavior all Sunday, Monday,
and up to now on Tuesday, but her fit of goodness was coming to an
end. She was in the mood to be obstreperous, naughty, and wilful; but
the thought of her mother, who was so gently following in the path of
the humble, restrained her.

"If mother, who is an angel, a perfect angel, can think herself
naughty and yet wish me to be good, I ought to help her by being as
good as I possibly can," she thought.

So she stopped and looked at Lord Grayleigh with the wistful, puzzled
expression which at once repelled and attracted him. His own daughters
also drew up, panting.

"We were chasing Sib," they said; "she challenged us. She said that,
although she does live in town, she could beat us."

"And it looked uncommonly like it when I saw you all," was Grayleigh's
response. "Sibyl has long legs for her age."

Sibyl looked down at the members in question, and put on a charming
pout. Grayleigh laughed, and going up to her side, laid his hand on
her shoulder.

"I saw your father yesterday. Shall I tell you about him?"

This, indeed, was a powerful bait. Sibyl's soft lips trembled
slightly. The wistful look in her eyes became appealing.

"Pathetic eyes, more pathetic than any dog's," thought Lord Grayleigh.
He took her hand.

"You and I will walk by ourselves for a little," he said. "Run away,
children. Sibyl will join you in a few moments."

Sibyl, as if mesmerized, now accompanied Lord Grayleigh. She disliked
her present position immensely, and yet she wondered if it was given
to her by Lord Jesus, as a special opportunity which she was on no
account to neglect. Should she tell Lord Grayleigh what she really
thought of him? But for her mother she would not have hesitated for a
moment, but that mother had been very kind to her during the last two
days, and Sibyl had enjoyed studying her character from a new point of
view. Mother was polite to people, even though they were not quite
perfect. Mother always looked sweet and tidy and ladylike, and
beautifully dressed. Mother never romped, nor tore her clothes, nor
climbed trees. It was an uninteresting life from Sibyl's point of
view, and yet, perhaps, it was the right life. Up to the present the
child had never seriously thought of her own conduct at all. She
accepted the fact with placidity that she herself was not good. It was
rather interesting to be "not good," and