LEFT OUT IN THE COLD.
MRS. WALLIS was far from being desirous that Lulu Tillotson should
become very friendly with her young daughters; but, when the lawyer,
before bidding her farewell on Monday morning, besought her very
earnestly to allow Celia and Joy to spend the following Saturday
at his house at T—, she hardly knew how to decline his invitation;
and whilst she was hesitating, Sir Jasper interposed, and said
it would be a pleasant change for the children.
"You know, my dear Margaret, the carriage is always at your disposal,
so there will be no difficulty about sending or fetching the young
people," he remarked; "let them go, by all means."
After that Mrs. Wallis saw no course open for her but to accept
the invitation, though she did so with some misgivings. She did not
dislike Lulu, and was sincerely sorry for the motherless girl; but
she much feared she was not a good friend for Celia, for whom
she evinced great partiality.
"I would as soon stay at home as go," remarked to her sister as she
was getting ready to start for the drive to T— on Saturday morning.
"I don't believe Lulu Tillotson wants me, she only asked her father
to invite me on your account."
"Don't be silly!" Celia retorted. "You had a lot of friends
at school, and I had none, but now Lulu and I are friends you don't
like it. You must be jealous."
"Oh, Celia, how can you think that!" Joy cried, reproachfully.
There was sufficient truth in her sister's speech, however, to make
her pause and reflect. "I only meant that two's company and
three's none," she proceeded, after a short silence. "I don't think
I am jealous of Lulu; I hope not, but I know you and she will be so
wrapped up in each other that I shall be out in the cold."
This actually proved to be the case, for the moment Sir Jasper
Amery's carriage drew up before the lawyer's house and the two girls
stepped out, Lulu, who had been anxiously awaiting their arrival,
appeared on the doorstep and took possession of Celia at once.
"Come up to my bedroom and take off your hat," she said; then turning
to Joy she added, apparently as an after-thought: "And you too, Joy."
The lawyer's house was comfortably furnished, regardless of expense,
and Lulu's room was as fresh and dainty an apartment as any little
girl could wish to call her own, with its suite of white enamelled
furniture, and its brass-mounted, white-curtained bed. The window
looked out into the main street of the busy town, and Saturday being
market day at T— there were many people about, mostly farmers and
their wives and daughters. Joy watched the pedestrians passing to and
fro, whilst Lulu disclosed the contents of her set of drawers and
wardrobe, which she evidently considered a mode of entertainment,
for Celia's benefit.
Many were Celia's exclamations of gratification as she turned over
Lulu's numerous possessions; but she shook her head when Lulu would
have made her a present of a turquoise brooch which she had
particularly admired. "No, no, I can't take it, but thank you so much
for wishing to give it to me," Celia cried, gratefully. "It is a
lovely brooch; but I am certain mother would not like me to accept
such a valuable present."
"Oh, you must have it, Celia! These blue stones are the very colour
to suit you. Surely Mrs. Wallis would not mind your taking it when I
so much wish you to have it? Let me pin it in your frock, and then
you will see how it looks."
This was done, and Celia surveyed herself in a looking-glass.
Lulu was right; she thought the brooch with its blue stones certainly
suited her fair complexion. She longed to keep it, but she knew her
mother would not approve of her doing so; therefore, she shook her
head more decidedly than she had done before, and unfastening the
brooch, handed it back to Lulu. "It is very kind and generous of you
to wish to give it to me," she said with a sigh, "but I must not take
it, really. Mother would not like me to do so, would she, Joy?"
"No, she would not," Joy agreed, decidedly. "I think if you took it
she'd most probably make you return it," she added, bluntly.
Lulu looked really disappointed, for she had set her heart on making
a present of the brooch to her new friend; but she now put it away
without another word. She was not so disappointed as Celia, though.
When Lulu had exhibited all her treasures, she took her visitors into
the drawing-room, which was upstairs, as most of the lower rooms
of the house were given up to offices; she explained that she was
always trying to induce her father to take a private house in the
suburbs of the town, but he would not.
"He says perhaps he will when I leave school," she told her
companions, "but that won't be for ages. That's my mother's likeness
over the mantelpiece."
It was an enlarged photograph of quite a young girl with a
happy-looking countenance, which bore some slight resemblance
to Lulu's.
"How very young she looks!" Celia exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes; she was only nineteen when she died," Lulu replied. "Do you
think I am at all like her? Father says I am, sometimes." Then,
without waiting for a reply to her question, she continued: "Do you
know, father declared the other day that occasionally I appear older
to him than my mother when he married her."
"How strange!" cried Joy, her eyes still examining the photograph
of the late Mrs. Tillotson.
"He was cross with me when he said it," Lulu confessed, "and he isn't
often that. He had caught me reading a book he didn't approve of, and
he said he didn't know what the children of this generation were
coming to. I am sure it was a very nice book."
"What was it?" Celia asked, curiously.
"It was called 'Lady Isabella's Treachery,' a most exciting story
about a nobleman's wife who stole some jewels, and put the blame off
on someone else. One of the servants lent it to me, and father made
me give it back to her; but I borrowed it again, and finished reading
it after all. You would enjoy it, Celia. It is so interesting.
Father said himself there was no real harm in it," she proceeded,
hurriedly, as she noticed both her hearers looked surprised, and more
than a little shocked; "he said it was mere trash, but it was most
exciting, and a I'd rather read a story like that than the books
he would like to see me with—Sir Walter Scott's novels,
for instance."
"Joy thinks Sir Walter Scott's novels are splendid," Celia said
with a smile, "but I find them rather dull myself."
Being market day, Mr. Tillotson was very busy, and had no time
to devote to his daughter's visitors; but at dinner he suggested
that Lulu should take them for a walk, and show them the town; so a
little later in the afternoon they put on their hats and sallied
forth into the street.
Celia and Lulu had so much to say to each other that Joy was quite
left to herself, and began to feel aggrieved. She followed her
companions from shop to shop, and waited patiently whilst they
remarked on the goods in the windows, and discussed the fashions;
but the time dragged for her, and the afternoon seemed interminable.
They visited the market, where Joy found some amusement in watching
the farmer's wives and daughters gossiping behind their stalls;
but they did not remain there long, and returned to the shop windows.
Joy was rejoiced when their walk was over, for she had never been
so utterly ignored in her life before, and was really very indignant.
Mr. Tillotson was not present at tea-time; but he came from his
office when Sir Jasper's carriage arrived to take the little girls
back to the Moat House, and shook hands with them very cordially
in the hall.
"I hope you have spent a pleasant day," he said, in his quiet,
serious way, his eyes resting first on Celia's smiling face then on
Joy's, which was graver than usual.
"Oh, yes! We have had such a happy time!" Celia answered. "I don't
know when I have enjoyed a day so much."
He escorted them to the carriage, telling them they must come again
soon, whilst Lulu stood on the doorstep, and waved her hand
in farewell.
Joy nodded and smiled at Mr. Tillotson as the carriage was driven
away, but she never glanced at Lulu.
For a while there was silence between the sisters; but Joy, her heart
swelling with indignation, was too angry to keep silence long, and
presently she burst forth:
"How I dislike that Lulu Tillotson! I will never spend a day with her
again—not if she asks me a hundred times. If Mr. Tillotson invites
us, you may go, but I will not—and so I shall tell mother."
"What's the matter, Joy?" Celia asked, apparently very surprised.
"As though you do not know! But you are as bad as Lulu. You took
no notice of me all the afternoon. You never spoke to me once,
or thought of asking if it was fun for me to be looking at the
fashions in the drapers' windows. You were so wrapped up in that
silly, frivolous girl, who is just like a dressed up doll, that you
thought of no one else."
Joy's quick temper was now at its height. Celia knew from experience
that it would soon begin to cool, so she remained silent,
her conscience not quite easy.
"I don't think Lulu is a nice girl at all," Joy proceeded; "you heard
what she said about reading that book her father didn't wish her
to read? She didn't mind disobeying him. I am sure mother would think
that was very wrong."
"Oh, surely you are not going to tell tales about poor Lulu!"
Celia cried, reproachfully. "That would be a mean thing to do.
Whatever you may think of her, you ought to remember we have been
her guests, and that should keep you from running out against her.
And you must not blame her for not talking as much to you as to me.
You don't care for the same things as she does. Why, when she was
showing us her clothes you were not a bit interested, but sat looking
out of the window all the while! I am sure she has not the least idea
she has displeased you. Don't be foolish and resentful, Joy, for it
is not worth while. We may not see Lulu again for ages."
"I hope not," Joy answered; "the less I see of her the better I shall
be pleased."
"I don't think she's a bad-hearted girl," Celia said, reflectively.
"See how she wanted me to take that turquoise brooch. She must be
very lonely sometimes, I expect, with only the housekeeper and the
servants to speak to. She says that often her father remains in his
office till late at night. Don't be too hard on her."
"Well, I won't," Joy said, her face clearing, "for, after all, if she
was rude to me, I daresay it was because she knew no better. Perhaps
if her mother had lived she would have been different," and her heart
softened, as she spoke, towards the motherless girl.
"You won't complain about Lulu to mother, will you?" Celia asked,
presently, in coaxing tone.
"No, I won't."
Celia heaved a sigh of relief. She realized that Joy had just cause
to be indignant at the indifferent manner in which Lulu had treated
her; but, at the same time, she was conscious that she herself
had been at fault for not including her sister in the conversation,
as she might have done. Flattered by Lulu's preference for her
society, she had no desire to share her friendship with Joy. She was
not blind to Lulu's faults; but she was glamoured by her fine clothes
and personal possessions, and longed to be as well off with this
world's goods as the lawyer's daughter, who had only, so it seemed
to her, to wish, to have. Although she had said they might not see
Lulu again for ages, yet she had been making plans with her as to how
and when they should meet again. The Moat House, being only two miles
from T—, was within walking distance of that town, and Lulu had
declared her intention of accompanying her father when he paid
Sir Jasper the calls he frequently made during the summer evenings,
after office hours.
Celia gave her mother a glowing account of everything she had seen
at T—, but Joy proved herself unusually reticent, so that Mrs. Wallis
imagined she had not been very pleased with her day's visit, and
shrewdly guessed that Lulu had made more of the elder sister than
the younger. She was sorry for Joy, who hitherto had been Celia's
sole confidante, but deemed it wiser to ask no questions.
There was a decided feeling of constraint between the sisters for a
few days after their visit to T—, but it gradually wore off, and they
were soon as good friends as ever.
"I must have been a little jealous of Lulu or I should not have
minded so much being left out in the cold," Joy came to the
conclusion; "and it is absurd to be jealous. As though Celia would
ever be fonder of Lulu than of me!"