Celia looked around almost wildly, first at her mother, who had seated herself quietly in the background with a world of pain depicted on her sad countenance, then at Lulu, who had uncovered her face and was looking at her friend with wide-open eyes, finally at Sir Jasper, whose look of contempt pierced her to the soul.
"I found your bunch of keys in one of the drawers of your writing-table," she admitted, shamefacedly. "I—I will tell the truth—I searched for the keys, and I easily unlocked the safe. I don't know how I could have done it! Oh, when I think of all I have done, and how badly I have treated Joy—"
"And how you have let me treat her!" Sir Jasper put in, severely.
"Yes," said Celia, sadly, "and when I remember the mischief I have done, I know you can never, never forgive me!"
"I was very fond of you, child," he told her, in a moved voice, "and my affection for you must have made me blind to your true character. Joy must be told the whole truth, for I—I accused her of having stolen the butterfly brooch."
"Oh, surely not!" Mrs. Wallis cried, distressfully, whilst both Lulu and Celia looked aghast. "Oh, my poor Joy! That is why she does not wish to see you, Uncle Jasper. I could not understand her attitude at all. It is plain to me now."
There was a dead silence for a few minutes; then Sir Jasper rose from his chair and laid his hand on Mrs. Wallis's shoulder.
"My dear," he said, with great tenderness in his tone, "I am more grieved than I can express, but do not look so sadly distressed. God forgive me for my treatment of Joy! I would not wilfully have wounded her for the world. You must tell her how I have been deceived, and—but I must speak to you alone. Celia, take your friend into the drawing-room, and wait for your mother there."
Celia obeyed. Both girls felt a sense of relief as soon as they were out of Sir Jasper's presence, and Lulu explained what had brought her to the Moat House.
"It was not fair to let you bear all the blame, poor Celia," she said, pityingly, "and Sir Jasper quite understands now that it was my fault you ever began to read novels of that kind. I told him all about it. Oh, who would have thought that my disobedience in setting father's wishes at defiance would have brought about such a terrible result as the fire. Oh, father does blame me so much, and no wonder! Oh, dear, I am sorry I ever lent you 'Lady Isabella's Treachery'! That was the beginning of it all. And, then, to think that you should have allowed Joy to have been blamed! That was mean of you, Celia."