"I don't think Lulu is a nice girl at all," Joy proceeded; "you heard what she said about reading that book her father didn't wish her to read? She didn't mind disobeying him. I am sure mother would think that was very wrong."
"Oh, surely you are not going to tell tales about poor Lulu!" Celia cried, reproachfully. "That would be a mean thing to do. Whatever you may think of her, you ought to remember we have been her guests, and that should keep you from running out against her. And you must not blame her for not talking as much to you as to me. You don't care for the same things as she does. Why, when she was showing us her clothes you were not a bit interested, but sat looking out of the window all the while! I am sure she has not the least idea she has displeased you. Don't be foolish and resentful, Joy, for it is not worth while. We may not see Lulu again for ages."
"I hope not," Joy answered; "the less I see of her the better I shall be pleased."
"I don't think she's a bad-hearted girl," Celia said, reflectively. "See how she wanted me to take that turquoise brooch. She must be very lonely sometimes, I expect, with only the housekeeper and the servants to speak to. She says that often her father remains in his office till late at night. Don't be too hard on her."
"Well, I won't," Joy said, her face clearing, "for, after all, if she was rude to me, I daresay it was because she knew no better. Perhaps if her mother had lived she would have been different," and her heart softened, as she spoke, towards the motherless girl.
"You won't complain about Lulu to mother, will you?" Celia asked, presently, in coaxing tone.
"No, I won't."
Celia heaved a sigh of relief. She realized that Joy had just cause to be indignant at the indifferent manner in which Lulu had treated her; but, at the same time, she was conscious that she herself had been at fault for not including her sister in the conversation, as she might have done. Flattered by Lulu's preference for her society, she had no desire to share her friendship with Joy. She was not blind to Lulu's faults; but she was glamoured by her fine clothes and personal possessions, and longed to be as well off with this world's goods as the lawyer's daughter, who had only, so it seemed to her, to wish, to have. Although she had said they might not see Lulu again for ages, yet she had been making plans with her as to how and when they should meet again. The Moat House, being only two miles from T—, was within walking distance of that town, and Lulu had declared her intention of accompanying her father when he paid Sir Jasper the calls he frequently made during the summer evenings, after office hours.
Celia gave her mother a glowing account of everything she had seen at T—, but Joy proved herself unusually reticent, so that Mrs. Wallis imagined she had not been very pleased with her day's visit, and shrewdly guessed that Lulu had made more of the elder sister than the younger. She was sorry for Joy, who hitherto had been Celia's sole confidante, but deemed it wiser to ask no questions.
There was a decided feeling of constraint between the sisters for a few days after their visit to T—, but it gradually wore off, and they were soon as good friends as ever.