THE LAWYER'S DAUGHTER.
"I AM expecting visitors this afternoon," Sir Jasper announced at the
breakfast-table one Saturday morning. "Tillotson is coming to see me
on business, and I have asked him to stay till Monday, and bring his
daughter with him. She is an only child," he explained, putting down
the letter he had been reading from his lawyer, and addressing
Mrs. Wallis; "she will be a rich woman, some day, for her father's
a prosperous man, and more business is transacted in his offices
at T— in one day than in the other lawyers' offices in the town in a
week."
"Is Miss Tillotson grown up?" Mrs. Wallis inquired.
"No, she's about the age of Celia, I fancy. Tillotson has brought her
here by my invitation on several occasions. He's devoted to her, and
spoils her, I've little doubt. She's not a pretty girl, but I suppose
she's what people call stylish." Sir Jasper gave a little chuckle
of amusement as he spoke. "I daresay she'll prove a congenial
companion for Celia and Joy," he concluded.
"What is she called, Uncle Jasper?" Celia asked, much interested.
"Her name is Lucinda, but her father calls her Lulu. She will be your
guest, remember children, so try to make her short visit a happy
one."
"Oh, yes!" the little girls replied, readily.
"Is there no Mrs. Tillotson?" Mrs. Wallis questioned.
"Tillotson is a widower. His wife died soon after the birth of her
child. He is a silent, reserved sort of man, but he was as deeply
attached to his wife as he is now attached to his daughter, for whom
he thinks nothing too good. He simply grants her every wish."
"But that cannot be well for her," Mrs. Wallis said, beginning to
wonder if this spoilt child would prove a very desirable companion
for her own daughters.
"No, of course it is not," Sir Jasper agreed. "I've no doubt
she thinks that all the world was made for her; but she'll find out
her mistake some day. I've a great respect for Tillotson, but he
doesn't know how to rear up a girl. Miss Lulu is practically the
mistress of her father's house, although he keeps a housekeeper
who is supposed to manage everything."
Saturday was a whole holiday for the young people at the Moat House.
In the afternoon Sir Jasper generally ordered the carriage, and
Mrs. Wallis and the children went for a long drive; but to-day they
remained at home to welcome Sir Jasper's guests. It was nearly
four o'clock when the visitors arrived, and were shown into the
drawing-room, where their host was awaiting them with his niece
and her two daughters.
"I am very glad to meet you again, Mr. Tillotson," said Mrs. Wallis,
as she shook hands with the lawyer. "And this is your daughter? I am
pleased to make your acquaintance, my dear. These are my little
girls—Celia and Joy."
Having shaken hands with Sir Jasper, who greeted her very cordially,
Lulu turned her attention to the others. She glanced at Mrs. Wallis
carelessly, but meeting a very kindly smile, gave her a second and
more interested look. Then her eyes wandered to Joy, from Joy to
Celia, upon whom they rested in rather an ill-bred stare, though
their owner had evidently no intention of being rude.
Lulu Tillotson was a tall, slight girl of about fourteen, with a
freckled complexion, light, somewhat sandy hair, and pale blue eyes.
She was most fashionably dressed in a pink frock much befrilled, and
trimmed with expensive lace; her fingers—she had removed her
gloves—were laden with rings; and she wore an exceedingly handsome
long gold chain, twined around her neck, and fastened to the watch
in her waist-band. Her manner was self-satisfied and assured;
the expression of her face complacent and rather good-humoured.
After shaking hands with Celia and Joy, she seated herself in a chair
by Mrs. Wallis's side, whilst Sir Jasper immediately bore
Mr. Tillotson off to the library to talk on business matters.
"Did you have a pleasant drive from T—?" Mrs. Wallis asked.
"Oh, yes, pleasant enough," Lulu answered carelessly; "but father
drives so slowly and carefully—he always does, you know—that he
allowed several carriages to pass us on the road, the consequence
being that we were almost smothered with dust, and that made me
cross. I told father I wished I had refused to come, and that the
dust was simply ruining my new hat, but he wouldn't drive faster."
Mrs. Wallis glanced at the hat in question—pink, to match Lulu's
frock, with a bunch of white ostrich feathers as trimming—and
wondered who had purchased it for her, or if it was her own taste.
"Would you like to go up to your room my dear," she enquired,
"or will you stay where you are and talk to me? Tea is at
half-past five."
"Oh, I'll stay where I am, please."
"Then you had better remove your hat. Joy will take it upstairs
for you, won't you, Joy?"
"Oh, yes," Joy answered, coming forward and receiving the wonderful
article of millinery, which Lulu handed to her without a word
of thanks. She carried it gingerly out of the room, whilst Celia drew
nearer to the visitor and joined in the conversation.
By the time Joy came back her sister and Lulu were doing most of the
talking, whilst Mrs. Wallis was listening, a faint smile of amusement
upon her lips. Lulu had been giving them a graphic description of her
music-master at school, and though she had ridiculed his
peculiarities, it had not been unkindly done.
"You have Miss Pring's niece for a governess, don't you?" she said.
Receiving an affirmative answer she rattled on: "I know old Miss
Pring—father knew her years ago, when she was a rich woman—and I
can't bear her. Such an interfering old creature she is! Father will
take me to see her sometimes—I never wish to go!—and to-day he
insisted on calling at Home Vale on his way here, and the very first
words Miss Pring said, when she saw me, were: 'Bless the child,
she looks like a cockatoo!' I never felt angrier in my life."
There was a general laugh at this, for Lulu looked so aggrieved;
her listeners guessed, with truth, that Miss Pring's observation
had been directed at the feathers in her hat. Celia was the only one
who had an answer ready.
"It was very rude of her," she said.
"Yes, indeed!" Lulu agreed. "She certainly apologised afterwards, and
said the remark had been surprised out of her, whatever she may
have meant by that. I call her a spiteful old woman! If she can't
afford nice clothing herself she shouldn't be envious of others."
"Oh, you misjudge her there!" Mrs. Wallis exclaimed, in accents
of gentle reproof. "I am sure Miss Pring is much too good and kind
to be envious, though perhaps she is a little too outspoken,
sometimes."
"A great deal too outspoken, I think!" Lulu cried, tossing her head,
for she still felt very angry.
"Yes, indeed," Celia assented, earnestly.
Lulu regarded Celia with growing favour; but she took no notice
of Joy, and when later she rose to go to her room to prepare for tea,
it was the elder sister she asked to accompany her.
"Mother, what do you think of her?" Joy asked, the minute she and
her mother were alone together.
"Poor child, she is much to be pitied," was the answer she received
in tones of deep compassion.
"Oh, mother! Why?"
"Because she has no one to correct her faults, my dear; no one
to tell her what a self-centered little girl she is, so wrapped up
in her own affairs and so vain of her dress. I do not like the way
she speaks of her father, it is not a respectful way. I am glad
she is only going to stay till Monday, for I should not care for you
to be very friendly with her."
"I am not likely to be that," Joy said, soberly, for she could not
help feeling a little hurt that Lulu had taken no notice of her,
though she was not in the least jealous of her sister. "She has
scarcely spoken to me yet."
"Never mind, my dear."
"Oh, mother, I don't mind, or at least, not much," she amended,
truthfully; "but she never even said 'thank you' when I carried her
hat upstairs for her."
"I noticed that, but I do not think her rudeness was intentional.
You must try to judge people by their intentions, my dear, and not by
their acts. Don't take a dislike to this motherless little girl.
I have no doubt she has her good qualities, which we shall discover
by-and-by."
Joy impulsively threw her arms around mother's neck, and kissed her
many times. She was wondering what she herself would have been like
if she had had no mother to correct her faults, and guide her all her
life. Her earliest recollections were of her mother, who had taught
her to be courteous to everyone, to study other people's feelings,
and who had always set her an example of unselfishness and
thoughtfulness, which she earnestly desired to follow, so that her
heart softened towards Lulu when she remembered that God had denied
her a mother's tender care.
Meanwhile, Lulu and Celia had gone upstairs to the large front
bedroom which had been prepared for the former. Though Lulu was only
to remain till Monday morning, she had brought a second frock, which
she drew from her portmanteau with great pride, for it was even finer
than the one she wore. She held it up for Celia's inspection, and
Celia went into raptures of admiration as she examined it, and
exclaimed on the beauty of its colour—it was palest blue—and its
quality.
"Yes, it is very nice," Lulu allowed complacently, as she laid the
garment carefully on the bed. She glanced from it to her companion,
clad in her blue serge skirt and cotton blouse, as she asked, "What
is your best frock like?"
"It's a grey cashmere," Celia answered, flushing under the other's
scrutiny. "It's rather pretty, I think, but not to be compared
to this!" —and she sighed enviously as she touched Lulu's blue gown.
"Why doesn't your mother see that you have prettier frocks?"
Lulu questioned, abruptly.
"We are not rich people," Celia responded, with a shade of dignity
in her tone, which was quite lost upon Lulu, however, who exclaimed,
"Not rich people? No, perhaps not, now, but you will be."
"I don't know what you mean," Celia cried, alternately paling and
flushing with excitement.
"You will be rich people when you get Sir Jasper Amery's money."
"But I don't know that we are going to it."
"Well, of course, I don't know it, either; but I expect you will.
I heard father say that Mrs. Wallis is Sir Jasper's nearest
relative."
"Does your father think—" Celia hesitated, not liking to finish
her sentence, but Lulu did so for her.
"Does father think Sir Jasper is going to leave you his money?
I'm sure I can't tell, and I am sure I should not like to ask him,
for he'd be really angry with me if I did. He never talks about the
affairs of anyone he's connected with in business. But, you may
depend upon it, Sir Jasper would not have invited you all here if he
had not meant to leave you his property. I've heard people
at T— talking about it, and they all say that."
Celia shook her head doubtfully; and Lulu continued,
"I should ask him to give me some new clothes, if I were you.
He isn't a bad-natured old fellow."
Celia looked slightly aghast at hearing the master of the house
spoken of in such a flippant manner. She stood gazing thoughtfully
at the blue frock, whilst Lulu concluded:
"I shall wear it to church to-morrow; that's why I brought it."
At that moment the tea-bell rang, and they hurried downstairs.
Lulu linked her arm within Celia's, and thus they entered the
dining-room together, much to the astonishment of Joy, who failed
to understand how they could have got on such friendly terms in so
short a time.
"Lulu has the loveliest dress you can possibly imagine to wear
to church to-morrow," Celia confided to her sister, when they were
going to bed that night.
"Has she?" said Joy, indifferently.
"Joy, don't you wish you and I had handsomer dresses to wear
on Sundays?" Celia inquired, rather aggrievedly.
"No," was the response, somewhat bluntly spoken. "I don't want to be
like Lulu Tillotson. We go to church to worship God, and it doesn't
matter to Him about our clothes, so why should it matter to us?"