A CARRIAGE ACCIDENT.
JOY rose on the following morning with the exhilarating sensation
that something very pleasant had happened. Sir Jasper's disbelief
in her integrity had been the one cloud on the horizon of her
happiness during the past few weeks; and now that he had laid his
suspicion of her aside, she felt that she could easily forgive Celia
for having allowed her to remain in a false position so long, and
could welcome her home with a light heart. It would have been
unnatural if Joy had entertained no resentment against her sister,
for she was fully conscious of the selfishness and cowardice of her
conduct, but she tried to make allowances for her, and was very
grieved because she and Celia had been drifting apart. Formerly she
had been inclined to set Celia on a pedestal; but though her idol
had fallen, she did not love her sister any the less on that account.
"I will meet her as though nothing had ever come between us,"
Joy thought. "Poor Celia! I am sure she was grieved when Uncle Jasper
treated me so unjustly; but she did not like to speak out and tell
the truth. There, I won't think anything more about it! I'll tell her
we'll let bygones be bygones and we'll be better friends than ever."
Joy knelt down to pray with a very happy heart; and when she had
poured out all her deep thankfulness to God, she joined her mother
and brother at the breakfast-table.
"You look as bright as a May morning, Joy," Mrs. Wallis told her.
"I suppose that is with the thought of Celia's return?"
"Yes, partly that," Joy responded, smilingly, "and partly something
else. Mother! Eric! Do you know, I've made Uncle Jasper believe
at last that I really am truthful, that I am not the storyteller
he thought!"
"Bravo!" cried Eric, heartily. "So Uncle Jasper's come to his senses,
has he?"
"My dear boy—" commenced Mrs. Wallis, remonstratingly; but Eric
broke in:
"Oh, mother, you know he was very unjust to poor Joy! I should have
liked him from the first but for that. I feel I really do like him
now, for he's been wonderfully generous to us all. Has he discovered
the real owner of the novel which Wag destroyed, then, Joy?"
Joy shook her head; and her brother suddenly became very thoughtful.
"I told you everything would come right, my dear," Mrs. Wallis said,
affectionately; "I knew it was impossible for anyone to live long
under the same roof with my Joy and not find out her true character.
Celia will be very relieved at the turn matters have taken."
"Yes," agreed Joy, avoiding her mother's eyes, "I think—I am sure
she will."
The girl was blissfully happy. She practised the piano nearly all the
morning, stimulated by Sir Jasper's assurance that her talent should
be cultivated. That meant that he intended to give her a musical
education, she knew. Bright dreams of the future occupied her mind.
She would work hard, and get on as well as ever she could, and Sir
Jasper would see how deeply she appreciated his kindness, and how
truly grateful she was.
In the afternoon Lawrence Puttenham appeared at the Moat House, and
Joy and Eric accompanied him in a long ramble through the shady lanes
where the nuts on the hazel bushes were beginning to harden, and turn
brown, for August was nearly out, and autumn's ripening touch was
plainly discernible everywhere. Then Lawrence Puttenham took his
friend back to the Vicarage to tea with him; and Joy, on her return
to the Moat House, sought her mother in the sitting-room in the east
wing.
Mrs. Wallis, who was employed on some needlework, glanced up with
a smile as Joy entered, and exclaimed, involuntarily:
"How well you look, my dear! Why, you're quite rosy! Not much like
the pale little maiden of six months ago."
"And how well you look, mother!" Joy cried, in return, her eyes
resting with admiring affection on Mrs. Wallis's countenance.
"I declare you appear years younger than when we came here! Yes,
indeed it's true! Mrs. Mallock said so to me only a few days ago."
"Did she?" Mrs. Wallis looked pleased. "Ah, it's the rest from care
and worry that's making the difference in my appearance," she
continued; "our lines have fallen in pleasant places, my dear.
I've been talking Uncle Jasper, and he tells me it is his desire
we should remain with him altogether; he says we are his nearest
relations, and therefore he will undertake to provide for our
futures. Oh, Joy, the relief to my mind know that!" Overcome with
mingled emotions, Mrs. Wallis burst into tears. Joy was startled,
for she had never seen her mother weep since her father had died,
even when she had been sore pressed and troubled. She kissed her
tenderly, whilst she thought of the full meaning of her words, and
that Celia would in all probability have her wish, and return
to A— again.
"Then we shan't be poor any more," Joy said at length, very soberly.
"Oh, mother, I am glad! But I was very happy at A—, though Celia was
not."
"Ah, Celia!" A grieved expression crossed the mother's face for a
moment. "She has not found the secret of happiness—poor Celia! She
cannot understand that one may have great wealth, and yet be very,
very poor."
"I think I know what you mean, mother," Joy replied thoughtfully, "in
fact, I'm sure I do." Then she quoted softly: "When thou hast Christ
thou art rich, and hast enough."
"True, little daughter. That is what I have endeavoured to teach all
three of my children; but I fear I have failed to impress it upon
Celia. Now, you and I are going to have an early cup of tea together,
for Uncle Jasper is in the library, and does not wish to be
disturbed."
It was about half-past five o'clock when Joy came downstairs
in readiness for their drive. She was waiting for her mother in the
hall when the library door opened, and Sir Jasper's voice—strangely
harsh it sounded—bade her come to him, for he wanted her. The old man
stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on his stick, and as Joy
approached him, she was struck with dismay at the sight of his face,
which wore an expression of almost vindictive rage. Trembling, she
knew not why, except that his appearance frightened her, she allowed
him to pull her into the room, and shut the door behind her.
"Uncle Jasper, what is it? Oh!" she cried, for the grip of his
fingers hurt her tender flesh. "Have I done anything to annoy you?
Are you angry with me?"
"Am I angry with you?" he questioned, giving her a shake. "You dare
ask me that, you deceitful, wicked, little girl! Were it not for the
sake of the others, I would send you away this very night, and you
should never darken my doors again!"
"But, Uncle Jasper, what have I done?" Joy asked, in utter amazement.
"What have you done?" Sir Jasper suddenly dropped his hold of her and
sank into a chair. "Oh, Joy, how could you do it?" he proceeded, his
voice softening from anger to reproach. "What tempted you to take t?
Give it back at once, and I will hush the affair up—no one shall know
but your mother—it would not be right to keep it from her!"
"Indeed, Uncle Jasper, I don't know in the least what you are talking
about," Joy said stressfully; "indeed, indeed I don't!"
"How can you stand there and look me the face with such a falsehood
on your lips!" he cried passionately. "And yet, how you wheedled me
into believing in you last night! Oh, child, it shocks me to find you
such a two-faced little girl! Come, I don't want to be harsh on you,
but you must confess everything, and give the brooch back."
"Confess everything, and give the brooch back?" Joy echoed,
wonderingly. "Oh, I don't understand! I don't indeed!"
"Do not utter any more falsehoods!" said the old man; "you know
perfectly well what you have done. Go, and fetch the jewel at once!"
"What jewel?" Joy cried, almost wildly, trying hard to keep back the
tears which filled her eyes, and threatened to overflow.
"The diamond brooch you stole from my safe whilst I was asleep last
night, when you told me you had been closing the window for fear
I should catch cold in the draught—pretending to take care of the
poor old uncle, when all the time you had been robbing him! Fie upon
you!"
"Uncle Jasper, you may believe me or not," said the little girl
solemnly, "but I never went near your safe until you told me to lock
it and give you the key. Oh, do believe me! Oh, I think you will
break my heart!"
Sir Jasper regarded her searchingly; he wavered for a moment, for the
ring of truth he thought he discerned in her voice puzzled him, and
her eyes did not flinch beneath his gaze. Rising, he crossed the room
to his safe, and examined its contents most carefully. Joy watched
him turning over papers and documents; and then saw him scrutinising
various jewels and ornaments, which he took from a velvet-lined case.
"I have made no mistake," he said at length, shutting the door of the
safe, and locking it securely. His excitement was cooling down now,
but he felt positive that his companion had taken the missing jewel.
He recalled his conversation with her on the previous night,
remembered all she had told him concerning his gamekeeper's wife, and
her acquaintances at A—, and marvelled how she could have so talked
to him. What a consummate hypocrite the child must be!
"It is useless your denying it," he proceeded decidedly. "I know you
have stolen the brooch, but I am going to give you an opportunity
of bringing it back to me. You need not get it now, for I hear the
carriage coming around to the door, and it is time for you and your
mother to start for T—. I do not wish any fuss made on the night
of your sister's return, she must not come back to find you in
disgrace—but, the first thing the morning I shall expect you to bring
the brooch back."
"Do you mean to say you accuse me of stealing a brooch?" Joy said,
pressing her hands distractedly to her head, and asking herself
if this was all a horrible nightmare, if she was really awake.
"Certainly, I accuse you of stealing the butterfly brooch studded
with diamonds. Ah!"
Sir Jasper uttered the ejaculation as Joy suddenly turned deathly
white, and clutched the back of a chair for support. She gazed him
with wide-open, horror-stricken eyes, as it was borne upon her mind
that his description of the lost jewel tallied with that which
Miss Pring had given her of the brooch which Celia had worn at the
flower show. For a moment everything swam before her eyes, and
Sir Jasper thought, with alarm, that she was about to faint; but with
a mighty effort she regained her composure, and the colour returned
to her cheeks and lips.
"Bring it back to-morrow, Joy," he said, much agitated himself;
"bring it back, and no one shall know you took it but your mother.
We'll have no fuss to-night. But oh, Joy, what made you take it? What
tempted you? You could never wear the brooch. What will poor Margaret
say when she knows the truth?"
Joy regarded him in dumb agony. She felt dazed, frightened, incapable
of reasoning, only she was conscious of a dreadful fear, a terrible
suspicion concerning Celia.
"I hear your mother coming downstairs," Sir Jasper continued,
hurriedly; "she will be looking for you if you don't go. Remember,
not a word to-night; but, to-morrow, bring it back—bring it back!"
Joy turned from him without a word, and joined her mother in the
hall. She followed her into the carriage, and took the seat by her
side.
Mrs. Wallis, her eyes enjoying the beautiful scenery on every side,
scarcely glanced at her little daughter during the drive, so she did
not remark her disturbed countenance, nor did she notice her unusual
quietude.
Joy was actually in a ferment of excitement and indecision. What was
she to do? One thing was certain, she would have to speak to her
sister that night, and question her about the brooch she had worn
at the flower show. Was it merely chance that the jewel Celia had
worn, and the one Sir Jasper had lost, were of the same pattern? Even
now she could not believe that Celia had been the thief who had
robbed Sir Jasper. The thought was preposterous—incredible! There
must be some mistake.
When T— was reached, and the carriage drew up before the Tillotsons'
house, Mrs. Wallis and Joy both got out, and went inside for a few
minutes. The former thanked Mr. Tillotson cordially for his kindness
to Celia, and delivered a message from Sir Jasper to the effect that
he hoped Lulu would visit them at the Moat House before very long,
hearing which Lulu smiled, and declared that that would be
delightful, but determined in her own mind that nothing should induce
her to go until she knew for certain that the butterfly brooch was in
the possession of its rightful owner.
Celia thought Joy's manner to her was strangely cool and
undemonstrative; but reflected that her sister probably still
resented the past, so when she found herself seated opposite to her
in the carriage on their way home, she did her utmost with appealing
looks, and assurances of the delight she experienced at being with
her once more, to overcome her constraint and reserve. Celia was
actually hungering for her sister's love, and desired greatly to be
on the old friendly footing with her again; but Joy listened to the
other's chatter in comparative silence, and would not be drawn into
conversation.
At last, Mrs. Wallis noticed that something was amiss with her
younger daughter, and was on the point of inquiring what was wrong,
when the sound of a shrill whistle fell upon their ears, and a
traction engine appeared around the turn of the road. Sir Jasper's
spirited horses snorted, flung up their heads, and plunged wildly ere
they broke into a gallop. There was a crash as the carriage came
into contact with the traction engine, followed by screams and
shouts, and the next moment the occupants of the carriage were flung
into the roadway, whilst the horses tore on with the wrecked vehicle
at their heels.