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CHAPTER IX. CELIA'S ACCIDENT.

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in a corner of the rock garden at the moat house was a rustic seat beneath an arbour, where celia sat one warm, july evening, her fair head bent over a limp, paper-covered volume, whilst several books of a more substantial make lay by her side.

presumably she had retired to this sheltered nook to learn her lessons for the following day, but actually to read by stealth the entrancing story, "lady isabella's treachery," which lulu tillotson had surreptitiously brought to the moat house for her perusal. the lesson books lay unheeded as celia followed the fortunes of lady isabella, who was represented as a woman of wonderful fascination; and she was deep in the account of her jealousy of a beautiful but penniless girl, a dependent in lady isabella's household, and was reaching a most exciting part in the story, when she heard joy's voice calling her by name. hastily closing the novel, she thrust it into a cranny between two rocks at the back of the arbour; and, seizing one of the lesson books, opened it at random, and pretended to be deeply engrossed in its contents.

"celia! celia! where are you?"

"here. what do you want, joy? i'm busy learning my lessons for to-morrow."

the lie rose glibly to celia's lips. time was when she would have scorned to speak anything save the truth. but two months had elapsed since mrs. wallis and her little daughters had taken up their abode at the moat house, and those two months had not improved celia's character. she had longed to live in a beautiful house like her present home, to have every comfort and luxury; and yet, now, when all these good things were hers to enjoy, she could not fully appreciate them for thinking of the time when she might have to give them up. if she was certain she would remain at the moat house, she thought she would be perfectly happy; and she tried her utmost to ingratiate herself with sir jasper, and succeeded so well that he always looked forward to the evenings when, her lessons finished, she would be at leisure to devote an hour or so to him.

"where's my pretty celia?" he would ask, and celia would smile, and give him her arm to lean upon as he hobbled up and down the terrace, or would take him for a little walk in the rock garden. she had to sacrifice her own inclination often to wait upon him; but it was not an unselfish motive that urged her to do so; she desired to make her presence indispensable to him. at first she had been gratified by his preference for her society to joy's; but she was beginning to find the old man a great tie; especially when, as on the present occasion, she wanted her leisure time for herself, so she looked up with a slight frown on her face as joy came running towards her, followed by a liver-and-white spaniel puppy named wag.

"well?" she said, impatiently. "what is it?"

"haven't you finished your lessons yet?" joy exclaimed. "i learnt mine directly after tea, and wag and i have been having such a game! i came to tell you that miss pring is here. will you come in to see her?"

"no; not unless mother sent you to fetch me. is uncle jasper in the drawing-room?"

"yes. he asked for you, so i thought i'd better find you."

"what a nuisance!" celia's tone was decidedly cross. "i never get any time to myself. need i go in, do you think?"

"shall i tell uncle jasper you have not quite finished learning your lessons?" joy suggested.

celia assented, and away went joy. the minute her sister was out of sight, celia turned round in search of the novel she had hidden; but, to her great amazement, it had disappeared. whilst she was wondering what could possibly have become of it, the sound of a delighted bark broke upon her ears, and the puppy gambolled past her, shaking and worrying what looked like a bundle of loose papers, but was, as the little girl rightly guessed, the book she was in search of.

she darted after the dog, calling to him softly and insinuatingly:

"wag! wag! good dog! come here! come here!"

but wag took no heed. he was having a splendid time, for the novel, in its limp paper cover with its fluttering leaves, proved a capital plaything. first the puppy hid behind one rock, then another, as celia chased him till she was breathless, allowing her to get nearly within reach of him, and then darting away again.

"wag, you little wretch, come here, sir!" celia cried, her voice changing its tone, and becoming stern. "come here, this minute, you bad dog!"

but the bad dog merely circled around with the novel in his mouth; and then, as she made a grab at him he doubled suddenly, and was off in the opposite direction. celia did not follow him, however; she retired behind a big bush, and waited to see if he would return. presently peeping out from behind her place of shelter, she saw the puppy coming back, evidently in search of her, and suddenly darting out in the hope of catching him unawares, her foot slipped on a loose stone, and she fell with some force to the ground.

it was with difficulty that she repressed a cry of pain as she endeavoured to rise, for she had twisted her ankle in her fall, and now found she could scarcely move. looking around, she espied the puppy at a little distance, watching her with roguish brown eyes, whilst he contentedly chewed the loose leaves of "lady isabella's treachery." celia burst into tears at the sight, realizing how incapable she was of getting possession of the book, and knowing that her mother would be extremely angry with her for having borrowed it from lulu; not that she had ever been forbidden to read anything of the kind, but her conscience told her that such literature would not meet with her mother's approval. she covered her face with her hands and wept bitterly, overcome with mingled emotions.

meanwhile, joy had returned to the drawing-room, and reported, in all good faith, that celia had not quite finished learning her lessons, but would be in presently. sir jasper, looking brighter than usual, was talking to miss pring and mrs. wallis; by-and-by he suggested a stroll in the rock garden, and thither they accordingly repaired, sir jasper leaning on his niece's arm, whilst miss pring followed with joy. so it was they came upon celia, seated forlornly upon the ground, indulging in floods of tears.

"my dear child!" cried mrs. wallis, whilst sir jasper uttered an exclamation of dismay, and joy ran to her sister's side, beseeching her to say what was amiss, and miss pring surveyed the scene in silence. "what has happened? are you hurt?"

"my foot!" gasped celia. "i think i have twisted it! i was running after wag and i fell!"

all looked at the puppy. wearied out its gambols, he now lay quietly, with the novel between his paws. whilst mrs. wallis was examining celia's injured foot, and assuring herself not much damage had been done, miss pring stepped up to the little dog and took possession of the cause of all the trouble.

"what has he been destroying?" sir jasper asked. "i trust he has not done much mischief."

"he has torn up a cheap, sensational novel, that's all," miss pring replied.

"where did he get it, i wonder? it is not yours, i suppose, my dear?" sir jasper inquired of celia.

"oh, no, it is not mine!" celia answered quickly, glancing up with tearful blue eyes.

"probably it belongs to one of the servants," miss pring remarked. "'lady isabella's treachery!'" she read out. "humph! flashy, low-class literature!" as she spoke she happened to glance at joy, who had suddenly turned crimson. she knew joy was exceedingly fond of reading, and a suspicion crossed her mind that the book might be hers. sir jasper also noticed the younger sister's evident confusion, and he addressed her so sharply that she started, and trembled.

"is the book yours, joy?"

"oh, no, uncle jasper!"

"you never saw it before?" he questioned, suspiciously.

"never!" she answered, promptly.

"then, why, pray, are you looking so guilty?" sir jasper persisted, whilst mrs. wallis turned her attention from celia to joy in surprise. "if you know nothing about the book, what is the meaning of your confused manner?"

his keen eyes were searching her face, noting her painful blushes, her uneasiness. she did not like to say that she had recognised the title of the book from having heard lulu tillotson mention it, for she guessed that lulu had lent it to celia, and that celia meant to keep the fact a secret. it was very wrong of celia; but joy felt she could not get her sister into trouble, especially when celia's tearful eyes appealed to her to keep silence.

"i hope you are not trying to deceive us, joy," sir jasper said, severely. "if you have been tempted to read this silly, sensational story—i can judge the class tale it is, and i daresay it fascinated you—why not confess it?"

"i have not been reading it, uncle jasper," joy replied, steadily, in a low, pained tone. "i never saw it in my life before."

sir jasper turned from her impatiently, and bent over celia, who still sat on the ground. miss pring now came forward and assisted mrs. wallis in lifting the girl to her feet, and between them they bore her into the house, and laid her on the drawing-room sofa. joy timidly offered sir jasper her arm, but he declined it curtly, and retraced his footsteps alone, whilst joy lingered in the garden, a prey to feelings of mingled indignation and grief. why could not celia have spoken out, and spared her sir jasper's suspicion? it was indeed hard to be so misjudged.

she took up a position from which she had a view of the front door, and presently saw miss pring come out, and look about her as though in search of someone. joy immediately hastened to join her.

"ah, joy, there you are!" miss pring exclaimed, in her deep voice. "will you walk as far as the gate with me, my dear? your mother is bathing celia's foot, i don't think she requires your help. celia has sprained her ankle, and will be a prisoner in the house for some days. what's become of that mischievous puppy?"

"i don't know," joy replied. she glanced timidly up at her companion's dark, plain face wistfully, as she asked: "you don't believe i'd been reading that book, i hope?"

"no, i do not."

"oh, thank you for saying that!" joy cried gratefully. "indeed i am not a storyteller."

"but you appeared guilty enough when sir jasper spoke to you about it to make anyone think you were the real owner of the book," miss pring continued. "i am not going to ask you why that was, because you evidently do not mean to tell, but, do you think it is right to shield someone at your own expense?"

joy was silent, looking, as she indeed was, very unhappy. she was deeply indignant and hurt that celia should have allowed her to be misjudged. if celia had only spoken out, and confessed that she had been reading "lady isabella's treachery," her mother would have reproved her, and she would have been made to return the book to lulu, but there the matter would have ended; by keeping a cowardly silence, she had thrown suspicion on joy, and joy rightly felt she had been injured. it was balm to her wounded spirit to find that miss pring accepted her word; she knew her mother would believe her too; but not so sir jasper.

after she had parted from miss pring at the gate, she went straight back to the house. on entering the hall she encountered her mother coming from the drawing-room.

"oh, my dear," mrs. wallis cried, "i have been wondering where you were!" she laid a firm hand on her little daughter's shoulder, as she asked: "tell me truly, had you been reading that flashy novel?"

"no, mother, i had not," joy answered steadily. "you know i never told you a lie in my life. oh, do believe me!"

"most certainly i believe you, my dear. i never caught you in a falsehood, or even knew you to prevaricate; but uncle jasper seemed to think—no matter, he will find out your word is to be trusted."

"i know he believed i was telling stories," joy said, blushing painfully, "but i was not. i never heard him speak so sternly before, and—and—it was so unjust!"

"and therefore very hard to bear."

mrs. wallis kissed joy tenderly, and bade her not to trouble. then she told her to go into the drawing-room to celia. joy obeyed, and found her sister alone, lying on the sofa, her face pale, and her eyes slightly red.

"does your foot hurt you much?" joy asked.

"no, not much," celia answered; "it is a great deal more comfortable since mother bathed it. joy, you've been crying!" she cried, accusingly. as her sister made no response, she continued: "what made you blush and look so confused when uncle jasper spoke to you about 'lady isabella's treachery,' in the rock garden? why couldn't you have simply said you knew nothing about it?"

"because i thought—i fancied—didn't you get the book from lulu tillotson?"

"you don't know that i did, and if so, that was no reason why you should have behaved in that stupid way. really, joy, you have only yourself to blame that uncle jasper spoke to you so sharply."

"i don't mind how he spoke to me, if only i could make him believe i told the truth. you ought to have told him the truth!" and joy flashed an indignant look at her sister. "it's very hard that i should suffer on your account," she added, somewhat bitterly; "miss pring believes in me, and so does mother, but uncle jasper thinks i told him a falsehood."

"he will soon forget all about it," celia said, soothingly. "you have not told mother—"

"don't fear! i've not been getting you into trouble," joy interrupted. the tears gathered in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "if anyone had told me you would treat me so shabbily i would not have believed it!" she declared tragically, and without waiting to hear celia's response, she hurriedly left the room.

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