THE ARRIVAL AT THE MOAT HOUSE.
THE bright May sunshine shone upon the Moat House with its ivy-clad
walls, and peeped into the library where Sir Jasper Amery was seated,
pen in hand, before his writing-table. A short thin old man was
Sir Jasper, with a pale, wrinkled countenance, and snow-white hair,
which was brushed smoothly back from a somewhat massive forehead.
Presently, as a ray of sunshine flickered across his face, he glanced
up quickly, revealing a pair of sharp grey eyes, deep-set beneath
overhanging brows.
"Dear me, I had nearly forgotten all about them!" he muttered, as he
laid down his pen. "It's almost five o'clock. Time for them to be
here."
Rising, he hobbled rather than walked to the door, for he was
crippled with rheumatism, and went into the hall, where he
encountered Mrs. Mallock, his housekeeper, who had been in his
service many years.
"Has the carriage gone to meet my niece and her children?"
he inquired.
"Yes, Sir Jasper," was the prompt reply; "your instructions have been
carried out to the letter. The rooms in the east wing have been put
in order, and very home-like and comfortable they look, I do assure
you! Mrs. Wallis will be hard to please if she is not satisfied."
Sir Jasper nodded approvingly. Taking his hat he went out-of-doors
to wait for his visitors.
The Moat House was indeed beautifully situated, and from the terrace
which fronted the dining-room and drawing-room windows, the
surrounding country was plainly visible for miles, pleasant meadow
lands, and woods now decked in their freshest spring garb, stretching
as far as the eye could see. The moat, which had originally been full
of water, had been filled in, and had been prettily laid out as a
rock garden, where shrubs of various kinds flourished, and flowers
peeped between the rough boulders which looked as though nature and
not man had placed them there in such picturesque confusion.
Sir Jasper's eyes wandered from the tresses of golden laburnum
flowers, and purple and white lilac now in full bloom, to the distant
high road along which he expected to see the carriage pass which had
been sent to the railway station, two miles distant, to meet
his guests. He had not long to wait before it appeared in sight, and
five minutes later it had passed up the wide carriage drive which cut
through the rock garden in place of the bridge which had originally
spanned the moat, and had drawn up before the front door.
Sir Jasper hastened to greet his visitors, doing so very cordially.
He had not seen his niece since her girlhood, and he noticed she had
greatly changed. Trouble, and many small carking worries, had left
their traces upon her countenance; and a look of patient resignation
had taken the place of the bright, hopeful expression which had once
been her chief charm in his eyes.
"Welcome, dear Margaret!" he said. "I am rejoiced that you have come.
You will have patience with an old man who has lost all his happiness
in life."
"Do not say that, Uncle Jasper," she replied, gently, as she kissed
his withered cheek. "I too have seen much sorrow, but it has been
God's will."
"Still the old faith!" he exclaimed, with a look of surprise.
"Yes," she answered steadily, "still the old faith, that what God
does is best." Her face brightened as she spoke, and he recognized
the expression he had missed at first, as she quoted with a smile:
"God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world!"
He made no reply, but turned to the girls, who were regarding him
with slightly veiled curiosity.
"This is my elder daughter," Mrs. Wallis told him, indicating Celia,
who smiled and blushed as Sir Jasper's eyes rested searchingly on her
countenance.
"What is your name, my dear?" Sir Jasper asked, shaking hands with
her cordially.
"Celia," she answered.
"Well, Celia, you must call me Uncle Jasper. I am your great-uncle,
you know. What a pretty child!" he added in an undertone to Mrs.
Wallis, but Celia heard the words and her blush deepened
with pleasure.
"And this is Joyce," Mrs. Wallis proceeded, hastily, "but we always
call her Joy."
"Joy," he echoed. "Joy. That means gladness—happiness! Poor child,
I hope the name will never appear in the light of a mockery to her."
"I hope not. I do not think it will," Mrs. Wallis responded, but she
glanced uneasily at Joy, who was regarding Sir Jasper with astonished
grey eyes, wondering why he should speak of her in such a decidedly
pitying tone.
"No doubt you are all tired after your long journey," he remarked,
"so come into the house, and let Mrs. Mallock show you your rooms.
You remember my housekeeper, Margaret? Yes, I still have the same.
I have had her put the east wing in order for you, and I hope you
will find everything to your taste. I am somewhat of a recluse
myself, nowadays, and never go outside the grounds; my doctor enjoins
quietude, yet he thinks I spend too much time over my books. I have
been looking forward to your society with much pleasurable
anticipation, but I fear you will find me not a very cheerful
companion."
Mrs. Wallis cast a look of quick sympathy at the bent form of the
little old man, as he preceded her into the hall, and her answer
showed her compassion for his loneliness, and at the same time
evinced her desire to be perfectly straightforward.
"When I accepted your invitation; it was with the hope that I might
be a comfort to you, Uncle Jasper," she said, "though I thought of
myself as well, and of my children, whom I believe will benefit
by the change. You know," she added, candidly, "that I have had
as much as I could do to make both ends meet."
He nodded comprehendingly; and then Mrs. Mallock came forward
to escort the visitors to their rooms. She had known Mrs. Wallis
in the old days, and, like Sir Jasper, was struck by the change
in her appearance.
"Ah, ma'am," she exclaimed, "I am glad to see you, indeed! I'm sure
you'll benefit by a breath of Devonshire air."
She led the way upstairs, talking volubly the while, and assuring
Celia that she was exactly in appearance like her mother had been
at her age, a remark which Celia received in dead silence, wondering
if it could possibly be true; afterwards, when she heard the same
from Sir Jasper's lips, she concluded that it was.
Mrs. Wallis expressed herself very pleased with all the arrangements
the housekeeper had made for her comfort, whilst the little girls
were delighted with the bedroom which was allotted to them.
"How big it is!" Joy exclaimed. "And, oh, what a great, high bed!
Look at the curtains around it! I declare it's almost as large as our
room at home!" Then she ran to the window, and uttered a cry
of admiration. "Oh, Celia, what a lovely view! Isn't it simply
magnificent?"
"It is very pretty," Celia replied, composedly.
"Pretty!" Joy echoed. "Why, it is grand!"
"Yes, it's very nice, and so is the house. The furniture is rather
old, but it's very handsome. I should think Uncle Jasper must be
exceedingly rich. He's a funny old man, isn't he? Did you ever see
sharper eyes? They seemed to look me through and through."
"I don't think he is very happy," Joy remarked, reflectively.
"I wonder what he meant by saying he hoped my name would never appear
in the light of a mockery to me. Wasn't it an odd thing to say?"
"Very," Celia replied, carelessly.
Joy saw her sister was not attending to her, so she sat down on the
broad, cushioned window-seat, and allowed her gaze to wander over the
fair landscape, whilst Celia, after closely scrutinising each article
of furniture the room contained, turned her attention to the
dressing-table, and thoughtfully regarded her countenance in the
looking-glass. Then she untied the ribbon which fastened back her
golden locks, and commenced to brush her hair.
"You had better put yourself tidy, Joy," she advised her sister,
presently; "didn't you hear Mrs. Mallock tell mother that tea would
be served in the dining-room almost directly? I should have thought
Uncle Jasper would have dined late, but it appears he does not."
"I'm glad he doesn't," Joy replied. "I like a regular sit-down tea,
because we're accustomed to it, and so does Eric. Oh, here's mother!"
she cried, as Mrs. Wallis entered the room. "Oh, mother, you're ready
to go downstairs, I see! Don't go before us."
"Are you afraid you will lose your way?" Mrs. Wallis inquired, with a
smile, as Joy dashed to the wash-hand stand, and began hastily
to bathe the traces of travel from her face. "It is a large house,
certainly, but not so large as all that. Uncle Jasper was very
thoughtful in giving us the east wing to ourselves, and I believe
we shall be very comfortable here. You will soon see if he desires
your society, children; if he does, I hope you will endeavour to make
him more cheerful; and if he does not, you will have no difficulty
in keeping out of his way. Poor old man! He has had so many sorrows
and disappointments in his life."
"What did he mean when he spoke of my name, mother?" Joy questioned,
eagerly. "How could it ever be a mockery to me?"
"It could only be a mockery if you lost your faith in God, my dear.
Joy means gladness and happiness, as Uncle Jasper said; but, I fear,
he does not realise that its foundation is trust in Jesus Christ."
"Isn't Uncle Jasper a Christian?" Celia asked quickly.
For a moment Mrs. Wallis hesitated as though she hardly knew what
answer to make, then she replied: "I believe he is professedly
a Christian, but I fear he does not possess the child-like,
unquestioning faith which alone brings peace. You know, my dears,
it is very difficult at all times to say 'Thy will be done.'"
Joy ran to her mother, and throwing her arms around her neck, gave
her an impulsive kiss. She rightly guessed that Mrs. Wallis thinking
of the grave in the cemetery at A— where her husband lay. Joy had
been very fond of her father, and though she had been too young
at the time of his death to be told more than that he had gone on a
long journey, she had always remembered him vividly, and could recall
the sound of his voice, and his hearty laugh. What his loss had meant
to her mother she could dimly understand. Celia had been deeply
attached to her father too, and there were regretful tears in her
bright eyes as she thought of him now.
Ten minutes later Mrs. Wallis and her little daughters entered the
dining-room, where Sir Jasper was awaiting them. They took their
seats at the large, square table, upon which a substantial meal
was laid, to which the travellers did full justice, for they were
hungry after their long journey. Sir Jasper exerted himself to be
agreeable, and he and Mrs. Wallis discussed bygone days, which
appeared to interest him more than the present time; whilst the
little girls sat quietly listening, each experiencing a dream-like
sensation of unreality, and almost feeling as though the large room
with its handsome furniture and shining silver on the side-board,
with its oak-panelled walls and pictures of short-waisted ladies, and
gentle-men with frilled shirts and high stocks, would give place
to the shabby little sitting-room at home. Joy touched Celia with her
foot under the table to assure herself that she was really
not dreaming; and Celia awoke from her reverie with a start and a
smile as she met her sister's eyes.
By-and-by, Sir Jasper turned his attention to his younger guests, and
inquired what they thought of the Moat House, and if they considered
they would be able to make themselves happy beneath his roof.
Joy answered him rather shyly; but Celia was perfectly composed, and
expressed admiration of his home so enthusiastically that he was
evidently very gratified, and looked at her with most decided
approval. After the meal was over, he drew her to the window, and
pointed out a distant orchard, white as snow with apple blossoms;
and, afterwards, at her suggestion, accompanied his guests
out-of-doors, and sat down on a garden seat with Mrs. Wallis for a
companion, whilst the young people explored the grounds.
"You are a rich woman, Margaret," he said impressively, his eyes
following the children's forms as they continually disappeared and
reappeared between the boulders in the rock garden. "That elder girl
of yours is a beauty. Is your boy good-looking, too?"
"People tell me he is a handsome lad," she replied, smiling. "Celia
is very pretty, I know. I hope you will not spoil her, Uncle Jasper."
"Pooh!" he cried, "she does not take after her mother in disposition
if she can be spoilt! How well and sensibly she talks! She appears
very observant."
"In some ways she is older than her years, and I regret it," Mrs.
Wallis remarked, a shade of uneasiness crossing her face. "Joy is
much more childish; but, of course, she is two years younger than her
sister."
"I suppose you considered my invitation a strange one," Sir Jasper
said, abruptly; "I know you did from what Tillotson told me, and from
your hesitation in agreeing to comply with my request. I am glad
you decided to humour an old man's whim, my dear," he added,
meaningly; "believe me, neither you nor yours will be the worse off
eventually from the fact of your having done so."