SIR JASPER BESTIRS HIMSELF.
ERIC was up betimes the morning following the carriage accident;
and seven o'clock found him at the Vicarage hearing the latest news
of the invalid, which was anything but reassuring, for Joy was no
better, and had shown no signs of returning consciousness.
The boy saw his mother for a few minutes, and her self-control gave
way as she flung her arms around his neck, and wept scalding tears
of weariness and grief.
"Oh, Eric," she cried, "I fear I am adding to your distress, but she
is very, very ill, and we can do nothing for her!"
"But God can, mother," he reminded her tenderly, his voice almost
choked with emotion.
"Ah, yes!" she replied. "He is mindful of His own, and our Joy
belongs to Him, we know. We can only pray for her, Eric, and leave
her in God's hands."
Eric returned dejectedly to the Moat House; and informed the anxious
household there that Joy was no better. Celia received the news in
silence; but her pale, troubled face, with its dark-rimmed blue eyes,
appealed to her brother's sympathy far more than had her noisy
weeping of the night before. Indeed, the little girl looked heart
broken, but her tears had apparently all been shed.
Much to the young people's surprise, Sir Jasper sent them a message
to join him at breakfast in the dining-room. They found him seated at
the table when they entered the room, waiting for them. He looked
very grave and anxious, but unusually alert.
"Good morning!" he said, nodding to them in turn. "Celia, my dear,
be good enough to pour out the coffee—no sugar for me, thank you.
I'm sorry you have not brought home better news of Joy, Eric. I could
not sleep for thinking of the child, so I thought I might as well get
up to breakfast."
"I don't suppose anyone slept much last night," Celia replied,
sighing. "I know I did not."
"Ah!" the old man exclaimed, glancing sympathetically at the little
girl's wan countenance. "I am going to the Vicarage after breakfast,"
he announced, presently. "I have ordered Gay to bring around the pony
carriage and drive me. I shall not be satisfied until I have seen
Margaret, for if Joy is no better she must have further advice, and
no time must be wasted. Meanwhile, you two had better keep each other
company at home."
As soon as breakfast was over, Gay brought round the pony carriage
to the front door, and Sir Jasper took his departure.
"Well, I am surprised!" Eric cried, as he watched the conveyance
disappear from sight. "I thought he never went outside the grounds."
"He never has since his son died, until now," Celia replied, and
Mrs. Mallock, who was standing by, bore evidence to the truth of
this statement by exclaiming: "No, indeed! Well, I never! Wonders
will never cease!" Celia and Eric spent the first part of the morning
together; they talked only of Joy, and longed for Sir Jasper's
return. At length Eric fetched Wag for a run in the rock garden,
and Celia went up to her own room. The idea had crossed her mind that
now, if possible, was the time for putting back the butterfly brooch
in its rightful place.
The girl quickly possessed herself of the jewel, and stole downstairs
to the library, closing the door carefully behind her. She knew it
was very unlikely she would be disturbed there, for Sir Jasper never
allowed servants to interfere with anything in the room, and
consequently Mrs. Mallock herself did the necessary cleaning. Celia
glanced quickly around, and noticed everything was in apple-pie
order; she then crossed to the safe and tried to open it, but found
it locked. She had expected that, so she was not daunted, but turned
her attention to the writing-table to see if Sir Jasper had left his
bunch of keys there. Swiftly and cautiously she opened drawer after
drawer, and turned over the contents of each; for some time she could
not find the keys, and a feeling of keen disappointment mingled with
despair was creeping into her heart, when in moving some loose papers
she heard something jingle beneath. The next minute the keys were in
her hand, and she was standing in front of the safe once more, trying
to find the key which fitted the lock. Her fingers trembled and made
her clumsy, so that it was a long time before she met with success;
but after she had discovered the right key, it was but the work of a
very few minutes to unlock the safe, replace the butterfly brooch in
the jewel case, and re-lock the safe again.
Celia's heart throbbed exultingly as she put the bunch of keys back
under the papers where she had found it. Immediately afterwards she
hurried from the room, crossed the hall, and went out into the
garden, where she joined her brother.
It was nearly dinner time when Sir Jasper returned. He brought no
fresh news; but he had seen Dr. Forbes, and a physician from Plymouth
had been sent for. All that could be done for the patient was being
done.
The old man was evidently terribly upset about Joy's illness. He ate
very little dinner, and afterwards retired to the library, where he
spent the afternoon alone, thinking of the little girl who lay at the
Vicarage, sick unto death. In imagination he could see her seated
at the old piano, and could hear the strains of "The Last Rose of
Summer "; then pictured her earnest face, full of tender sympathy,
as it had been when she had talked to him of his gamekeeper's invalid
wife, and asked himself if it was possible she could be a hypocrite
and a thief, as he had thought her last night.
"No, no!" he exclaimed. "And yet I must believe the evidence of my
own senses," he reflected; "I heard her at the safe, though pretended
she had only been shutting window. Yes, my first impression must have
been correct."
He rose, took the keys from under the papers in the drawer of his
writing-table, where he remembered having left them, locked the safe,
and lifted the lid of the jewel case. The next moment he uttered a
cry of intense surprise, scarcely believing he saw aright, for the
first ornament his eyes rested upon was the butterfly brooch.
"Am I out of my mind?" he thought. "I am sure it was not there last
night. Yet it must have been. But how could I possibly have
overlooked it? Oh, to think that I should have accused that poor
child wrongly! Oh, Joy, poor little Joy!"
His distress of mind was very great, for he always tried to act
justly. Whilst he was still gazing at the jewel, there was a knock
at the door, and Eric's voice informed him that Miss Pring was in the
drawing-room with Celia. Hastily locking the safe, he put the bunch
of keys in his pocket, and opened the door to find Eric waiting
for him outside.
The boy's face was flushed with excitement, for Miss Pring had come
from the Vicarage, and had brought slightly better news. The Plymouth
physician had seen Joy, and though he pronounced her seriously ill,
and admitted there was great cause for anxiety, he did not consider
the case a hopeless one.
"Thank God he does not," said Sir Jasper, fervently, when Eric had
given him this intelligence. "Oh, my dear lad, if God spares Joy's
precious life my gratitude to Him will know no bounds!"
Eric was so touched at the sight of the old man's emotion that he
could hardly answer him. He had not thought his uncle loved Joy
so well.
Miss Pring was prevailed upon to remain to tea, and her cheerful
society did her companions a world of good. During the evening there
were several callers to inquire for Joy, the result of the carriage
accident having by this time become widely known, and amongst others
were Mr. Tillotson and his daughter.
Lulu, looking immeasurably shocked and grieved, was very gentle and
sympathetic in her manner to Celia; she had never appeared to better
advantage, being perfectly natural, and utterly unconcerned as to the
impression she was making upon the others present.
"Lulu, I've put back the brooch all right," Celia found an
opportunity of whispering to her friend by-and-bye.
"Oh, have you?" Lulu returned, with relief in her tones, "I'm so glad
to hear that. Oh, Celia, how little everything seems to matter when
anyone is so dangerously ill as Joy is!"
"I don't think I understand you," Celia replied, looking puzzled.
"Oh, don't you? I mean money, and enjoyment, and fine clothes, and
all those sort of things don't count for anything when one comes
to die. It's goodness that tells then. Oh, I don't mean to say that I
think Joy is going to die—I hope and believe she will recover!—but
it's certain she is dreadfully, dreadfully ill, and if God should
take her we know she loves Him! There's comfort in knowing that."
"Oh, don't talk like that," implored Celia. "I can't bear it! Oh, I
wish I could see Joy only for a few minutes, but Uncle Jasper won't
let me go to the Vicarage, and Eric says if I went they would not
allow me inside her room. Oh, Lulu, I've not always been as kind to
her as I ought to have been, and it half kills me to remember that
now!"
Lulu soothed her friend as best she could, though she failed to
understand the cause of her remorse, and she succeeded in making
her more cheerful.
"Lulu Tillotson is improving," Miss Pring observed, when the lawyer
and his daughter had gone.
"All, no doubt Celia's society has benefited her," Sir Jasper
rejoined; and Celia, overhearing this remark, hung her head, and
blushed with shame, for she was beginning to understand that in many
ways Lulu was her superior.
Weary, anxious days followed, during which Joy hovered on the
borderland between life and death; but there came a morning when Eric
hurried back to the Moat House from the Vicarage with the bright
light of hope in his eyes, and the news that the invalid had regained
consciousness, and had recognised her mother; and though she had not
spoken, there could be no doubt but that she was better.
Dr. Forbes corroborated this opinion; but insisted that no one should
see his patient except her mother and Miss Mary Pring, who had helped
in the nursing all along, until he gave permission. The internal
injuries had not proved as serious as had at first been feared, but
the girl's right hip bone had been hurt, and gave the doctor much
anxiety still.
Great was the delight at the Moat House when it was known for certain
that Joy had taken a good turn. Eric went off for a ramble in the
woods with Lawrence Puttenham and Wag with an easier mind than he had
possessed for many a day; and Celia threw aside her depression, and
allowed herself to smile once more. Sir Jasper took the news more
quietly than anyone, though he was none the less rejoiced; but
mingled with the sense of relief he experienced was the feeling of
remorse that weighed down his spirits on account of his having
accused Joy wrongfully.
He was still extremely puzzled concerning the butterfly brooch, for
he could hardly bring himself to believe that he had overlooked it on
the occasion when he had failed to find it. Why, he had searched for
it again and again in vain; and yet he had finally found it lying
directly inside the jewel case! The more he thought of the matter the
more bewildered he became; but one thing was certain, he had brought
a cruel charge against Joy, and he could not forgive himself for
having done so, or for the harsh words which he had uttered in his
anger.
Every day, much to the astonishment of his household, Sir Jasper was
driven by Gay to the Vicarage to inquire for the invalid; and, on one
occasion, cheered by a good report of the progress Joy was making,
he stopped at Home Vale on his return journey and made a call on Miss
Pring.
The members of the Crumleigh Cricket Club, unable to play in the
field near the Vicarage, for fear of disturbing the sick child,
now met in a field nearer the Moat House, and great was their
astonishment when Sir Jasper one evening hobbled through the gateway
leaning on his stick, accompanied by Celia. Certainly he did not stay
very long; but the news that he had been there was spread through the
village of Crumleigh that night, and discussed with much wonderment.
It was the second week in September now, and Celia and Eric were
looking forward eagerly to their first interview with Joy; and at
last a day came when she was well enough to see them for a few
minutes.
"Only for a few minutes, mind," Mrs. Wallis told them, before
admitting them into the sick room; "you must say or do nothing
to excite her, remember."
They promised; but it needed all the self-control they could summon
to their aid to enable them to keep their word, as their eyes fell
upon their sister. She looked still terribly ill, "all eyes, like a
young bird," as Eric said afterwards; but when she smiled she
appeared more like her old self, for it was Joy's own happy smile
that lit up the wan face. Eric kissed her in silence, his heart full
to overflowing; then Celia's turn came, and as she bent over her
sister, Joy whispered:
"We'll be better friends than ever, won't we?"
And Celia answered: "Oh, yes, yes!"
"I think I am going to get well," said Joy, bluntly. "Dr. Forbes
thinks so too. I've been great trouble to everyone, but I'm so glad
it as I who was hurt, and not mother or you."
"Oh, Joy, Uncle Jasper told me to give you his love."
"His love! To me?"
"Yes; and he's coming to see you soon."
"Oh, no, no! I don't want to see him! I'd rather not!"
There was a flush of excitement rising to the invalid's face, noting
which Mrs. Wallis promptly hurried Celia and Eric from the room.
"I wonder why she doesn't want to see Uncle Jasper," remarked Eric,
thoughtfully, as walked home by Celia's side; "you know they had
become friends again, and he's been cut up about her. How distressed
she looked when you spoke of him!"
"Sick people get queer fancies, I've heard," said Celia; "oh, how
glad I am we have seen her! She is really better, though she does
look so ill. Oh, how thankful I am to God for sparing her life! What
should we have done without Joy?"
"Don't think of it, Celia. I shall not mind going back to school now
when the time comes, for mother says Joy will soon be well enough
to be moved to the Moat House. Then you'll be able to help in the
nursing. By the way, we won't tell Uncle Jasper that Joy doesn't want
to see him."
"Of course not. He would be dreadfully hurt."
"You are his favourite, Celia," Eric said, candidly, "but I think
he's fond of Joy, too, though he doesn't understand her; and yet she
always seems to me so much easier to understand than you."
"Joy's better than I am," Celia admitted, with a new humility in her
tone which struck her brother with surprise; "she never pretends
to be what she is not."
"And do you?" he inquired, curiously.
But Celia declined to answer, and he did not ask her again. They
finished their walk in silence after that.