"To your safe!" she cried in amazement; "why, I wasn't touching it! What do you mean, Uncle Jasper? I was only shutting the window because I was afraid you would catch cold."
"Oh, it was the window I heard, was it? You weren't meddling with my safe then?"
"No, most certainly not."
Joy flushed painfully, and glanced at the safe in the niche by the fire-place; she noticed the key was in the lock.
"I don't like people to meddle with anything belonging to me," Sir Jasper proceeded; "go and lock the safe, and bring me the key."
Joy obeyed in silence, her heart throbbing with indignation. How could Uncle Jasper imagine for a moment that she would interfere with his belongings!
He gazed at her searchingly as he took the key from her hand, and met the reproachful flash of her eyes.
"Don't look at me like that, child," he said, feeling rather ashamed of his suspicion of her. "There, sit down where I can see you, and let us talk. I am very gratified with the progress you are making with your music, my dear; you bid fair to become a clever pianist. Those little fingers of yours know how to draw music from that old instrument of mine. Your talent shall be cultivated, I promise you that."
Her face glowed with intense pleasure and gratitude now, as she faltered her thanks; but her eyes were more eloquent than her lips, and the old man was satisfied.
"I do think you are a grateful little girl," he said, approvingly, "I like that trait of your character. You will have your sister back to-morrow," he continued, abruptly leading the conversation into another channel; "we have all missed Celia, but you most of all, I expect. By-the-bye, where is Eric to-night?"