"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.