"well, children, and how do you get on with your governess?"
the speaker was sir jasper amery, who encountered celia and joy in the garden a few evenings after miss pring had commenced her duties at the moat house. he leaned heavily upon his stick, and surveyed the countenances of his little great-nieces with his usual keen, though not unkindly glance.
"we like her so much, uncle jasper," celia answered, promptly; "she's very strict in lesson hours, and makes us work hard; but she's always ready to help us, and explain everything we don't understand."
"i shall ask her to give me her opinion of your abilities," sir jasper said. "i heard someone practising on the piano this afternoon. which of you was that?"
"oh, it was i!" joy cried, a flush rising to her sallow cheeks. "i'm afraid i don't play very well; but i love music dearly."
"you play remarkably well for your age," sir jasper told her. "i wonder if you know any of my favourite tunes—'the last rose of summer,' for instance?"
"no; but i am sure i could learn it if i had the music," joy replied.
"come with me to the library," the old man said, abruptly.
he hobbled on in front, whilst the child: followed in silence. neither celia nor joy had ventured to enter the library as yet, though they had been curious to see the room where sir jasper spent most of his days. it proved to be a long, low apartment, dim in the evening light, the walls lined with books, and the writing-table strewn with papers. in one corner stood an old-fashioned, high-backed piano which jasper opened.
"come, which of you is going to give me some music?" he asked. "are you musical, celia?"
"not very, i'm afraid," celia acknowledged, regretfully, for she was most desirous of making a favourable impression upon sir jasper. "of course i do play, but not so well as joy."
sir jasper turned to joy, who, after moment's hesitation, took her seat at the piano and struck the opening notes of a piece of music she knew by heart. she was very nervous at first, but she gained confidence as she played, and delighted sir jasper, who thanked her very cordially when at length she stopped and turned around on the piano stool to see if he was satisfied.
"thank you, my dear," he said, earnestly, "you have given me a great treat. until now no one has touched that piano since my son died. his were the last fingers to play upon it. you have a talent for music which should be cultivated."
"i wish i could play the piece you spoke of just now," joy said; "is it very difficult?"
"not at all! it is a fine old english ballad, but i have it somewhere arranged as a piece for the piano." he rummaged over a pile of music on a stand close by, and at last selected the piece he was looking for. "here it is," he cried. "'the last rose of summer' is not in fashion now, i believe, but i love the old tune. take the music, my dear, and see if you can learn to play it."
"i will," joy replied, earnestly.
sir jasper was in a sociable mood, and he detained the girls in conversation. joy was getting over her first shyness of him, and talked in her usual frank fashion.
"i should like to be a great musician some day," she informed him, "and then i should earn a lot of money, shouldn't i?"
"do you want to earn a lot of money?" he inquired, regarding her attentively.
"oh, yes," she answered, "indeed i do. i should so like to be rich!"
he appeared a little disappointed at her answer, joy thought, and a somewhat grim smile crossed his face. celia looked put out and frowned at her sister, who came to the conclusion she had said something she had better left unsaid.
"how could you have been so foolish as to tell uncle jasper you wanted to be rich!" celia exclaimed, in tones of intense vexation, the very first moment she and joy were alone together. "it was such a stupid thing to say!"
"why?" joy demanded, wonderingly. "i meant it."
"i know, and of course uncle jasper saw you meant it. you needn't always say exactly what you mean, though. i want to be rich, too, a great deal more than you do, i daresay, but i shouldn't think of telling people so—especially uncle jasper!"
"i only meant that i would like to have a lot of money so that mother shouldn't be worried any more, and—"
"mother isn't worried now she's living here," was the impatient interruption.
"no, but when we go home again—"
celia turned sharply away from her sister, and would not hear the conclusion of the sentence. she was delighted with the moat house and her surroundings. it was a pleasant change to have the best of everything provided for her; to live in a large house, handsomely and comfortably furnished; to have servants to wait on her, and dainty food in the place of the plain fare she had been accustomed to all her previous life. mrs. wallis and joy found it a pleasant change, too, but they sometimes talked of their home at a—, whilst celia never mentioned it, and hoped fervently that uncle jasper would want them to remain with him altogether.
sir jasper appeared perfectly contented with the present arrangement. he spent a good deal of time in his niece's company, and made it a habit to walk up and down the terrace in front of his house every evening leaning upon her arm. one evening, mrs. wallis being engaged in letter-writing celia took her place. joy, seated on a garden seat, watched her sister as she chatted to sir jasper, her bright face aglow with smiles, her blue eyes shining brilliantly, and thought how well celia was getting on with her companion. she appeared to know exactly what to say to amuse and please him; she never made a remark it would have been better to have left unsaid.
by-and-by joy opened the english history book she had brought out-of-doors with her, and commenced to learn the lesson miss mary pring had given her to prepare for the next day. she had nearly finished her task when suddenly sir jasper's voice broke upon her ears.
"so you don't care for money, then?" he was saying.
joy glanced up quickly, and saw her sister and the old man had paused at a little distance from her. she listened curiously for celia's answer. it filled her with a sense of intense astonishment.
"not in the very least," was the apparently careless reply.
"nonsense, my dear!" in spite of his words, joy noted that sir jasper's voice sounded very pleased. "money is a very good thing sometimes."
"is it?" celia questioned, innocently.
"a very good thing sometimes," he repeated; "but there are occasions when it is useless, quite useless. what good is it to me—a poor old man who has lost his all?"
"but you do good with it," celia reminded him, gently. "miss mary was telling us only yesterday how kind you have been to the poor widow of that farm labourer who died suddenly last week. and see what you have done for us!"
"you are a grateful little soul, celia," he told her, with a tender inflection in his voice. "you are like your dear mother."
joy heard no more, for she hastily rose and retreated into the house. she was full of indignation against her sister. what could have induced celia to utter such a falsehood as to say she did not in the least care for money, when all her life she had bemoaned her poverty, and longed for wealth?
later in the evening, when the sisters were preparing for bed, joy taxed celia with having told sir jasper an untruth. for a moment the elder girl was confused, then broke into a laugh as she exclaimed: "oh, joy, you surely don't imagine i would be as silly as you, and tell uncle jasper i cared for money, do you?"
"but you do care for money, celia!"
"of course i do, but it wouldn't be wise to let uncle jasper know it."
"why not? he said himself that money is a very good thing sometimes."
"yes, i know, but—well—i can hardly explain what i mean, but i want him to think we like him for himself, and not his money. we ought to try to please him."
"why, so we do; but it's never right to tell a lie. it's a sin, you know it is as well as i do," joy declared, bluntly. "mother wouldn't have liked you to be deceitful, and say what wasn't true, even to please uncle jasper."
"well, you needn't make such a fuss about a trifle. there's no reason why you should work yourself into a passion. and why should you dictate to me when i am so much older than you? i don't like it. do you mean to get me into trouble with mother?"
"of course not!" joy flashed out, angrily, resentful at the suggestion.
celia looked relieved. she proceeded undress in silence, casting side glances at joy meanwhile.
by-and-by joy's indignation commenced to cool; she began to wonder whether she might not have misjudged her sister, and to doubt if she had intended to tell a deliberate falsehood. celia was so kind-hearted, so desirous of pleasing! joy looked at her as she stood brushing her hair in front of dressing-table, and hoped she had misjudged her, for it pained her deeply to think her dearly loved sister, whom she admired more than any one else in the world, was not truthful.
"don't let us quarrel!" she said at length.
"oh, i don't want to quarrel," celia replied, smiling; "but i thought you wanted to fall out with me. don't be cross any longer, joy. here have i been giving up my spare time this evening to amusing uncle jasper, because mother has been busy letter-writing, and for my pains you accuse me of story-telling! i declare it's too bad of when i've only been doing my best to please him. you know mother wants us to make him happier, if we can."
there was a ring of reproach in celia's voice. joy went up to her, and putting her arms around her neck gave her an affectionate hug, and a kiss which was warmly returned. thus did the sisters make their peace.
mrs. wallis and her daughters had now been at the moat house several weeks, and already the absence of small worries was having a beneficial effect on the former's health, whilst the devonshire air was bringing faint roses to joy's pale cheeks, and celia's fair face was more blooming than ever.
mrs. wallis was perfectly satisfied with her children's governess; and miss mary pring considered herself a most fortune young woman to have obtained such a comfortable situation. she had been told that her engagement at the moat house might be only for a year's duration; but she was of a naturally hopeful disposition, and trusted it would prove otherwise.
"sir jasper is growing so attached to the children," she remarked to her aunt one evening when, the work of the day over, they sat dawdling over the tea-table at home vale. "of celia he is especially fond; nor is it any wonder, for she is always ready to drop whatever she is doing to wait upon him, and her manner to him is particularly nice. she is a wonderfully thoughtful child for her age, and so kind-hearted!"
"is she?" miss pring asked, a trifle dubiously, or so her niece thought.
"indeed she is! i don't believe she would willingly hurt anyone's feelings for the world. she always tries to please."
"that is not a sure proof of a kind heart, my dear mary. it may mean only a desire to stand well in other people's sight. however, you have good opportunities for forming a correct estimate of her character, no doubt you have judged her rightly."
"she works most conscientiously and attends to all my instructions. she is evidently desirous of learning all she can. i never had a better pupil."
"and what about the other sister?" pring inquired.
"she is not so attentive as celia in the general way, but she has a real talent for music. sir jasper gets her to play to him occasionally, and she has learnt a favorite piece of his—'the last rose of summer.' i often wonder, aunt esther, what he means to do for those children in the future."
"so do i," miss pring answered, soberly. "i think he ought to make his intentions known. i've a great mind to tell him so the next time we meet."
"oh, you won't do that, surely, aunt esther!" mary cried, looking quite shocked, for she stood rather in awe of sir jasper.
"i shall be guided by circumstances," miss pring replied, meditatively; "but don't be alarmed, mary, you may trust me not to give offence."