"I'm glad he doesn't," Joy replied. "I like a regular sit-down tea, because we're accustomed to it, and so does Eric. Oh, here's mother!" she cried, as Mrs. Wallis entered the room. "Oh, mother, you're ready to go downstairs, I see! Don't go before us."
"Are you afraid you will lose your way?" Mrs. Wallis inquired, with a smile, as Joy dashed to the wash-hand stand, and began hastily to bathe the traces of travel from her face. "It is a large house, certainly, but not so large as all that. Uncle Jasper was very thoughtful in giving us the east wing to ourselves, and I believe we shall be very comfortable here. You will soon see if he desires your society, children; if he does, I hope you will endeavour to make him more cheerful; and if he does not, you will have no difficulty in keeping out of his way. Poor old man! He has had so many sorrows and disappointments in his life."
"What did he mean when he spoke of my name, mother?" Joy questioned, eagerly. "How could it ever be a mockery to me?"
"It could only be a mockery if you lost your faith in God, my dear. Joy means gladness and happiness, as Uncle Jasper said; but, I fear, he does not realise that its foundation is trust in Jesus Christ."
"Isn't Uncle Jasper a Christian?" Celia asked quickly.
For a moment Mrs. Wallis hesitated as though she hardly knew what answer to make, then she replied: "I believe he is professedly a Christian, but I fear he does not possess the child-like, unquestioning faith which alone brings peace. You know, my dears, it is very difficult at all times to say 'Thy will be done.'"
Joy ran to her mother, and throwing her arms around her neck, gave her an impulsive kiss. She rightly guessed that Mrs. Wallis thinking of the grave in the cemetery at A— where her husband lay. Joy had been very fond of her father, and though she had been too young at the time of his death to be told more than that he had gone on a long journey, she had always remembered him vividly, and could recall the sound of his voice, and his hearty laugh. What his loss had meant to her mother she could dimly understand. Celia had been deeply attached to her father too, and there were regretful tears in her bright eyes as she thought of him now.
Ten minutes later Mrs. Wallis and her little daughters entered the dining-room, where Sir Jasper was awaiting them. They took their seats at the large, square table, upon which a substantial meal was laid, to which the travellers did full justice, for they were hungry after their long journey. Sir Jasper exerted himself to be agreeable, and he and Mrs. Wallis discussed bygone days, which appeared to interest him more than the present time; whilst the little girls sat quietly listening, each experiencing a dream-like sensation of unreality, and almost feeling as though the large room with its handsome furniture and shining silver on the side-board, with its oak-panelled walls and pictures of short-waisted ladies, and gentle-men with frilled shirts and high stocks, would give place to the shabby little sitting-room at home. Joy touched Celia with her foot under the table to assure herself that she was really not dreaming; and Celia awoke from her reverie with a start and a smile as she met her sister's eyes.
By-and-by, Sir Jasper turned his attention to his younger guests, and inquired what they thought of the Moat House, and if they considered they would be able to make themselves happy beneath his roof.
Joy answered him rather shyly; but Celia was perfectly composed, and expressed admiration of his home so enthusiastically that he was evidently very gratified, and looked at her with most decided approval. After the meal was over, he drew her to the window, and pointed out a distant orchard, white as snow with apple blossoms; and, afterwards, at her suggestion, accompanied his guests out-of-doors, and sat down on a garden seat with Mrs. Wallis for a companion, whilst the young people explored the grounds.