"There is always something to mar your contentment, my dear," Mrs. Wallis said, seriously, as her daughter left her sentence unfinished. "Do you remember my saying to you once just before we left our home, that I questioned if you possessed all the luxuries wealth can provide, whether you would be satisfied even then? I think the same now. You were never so well off in your life as you are at the present time, but you appear no happier than you were in our little home at A—. Dear Celia, you will never be happy until you find peace in Christ, and are content to give your life to Him."
Celia made no answer, and her mother proceeded:
"Most people would deem you a very fortunate girl. Your desire to visit your friend is to be gratified, and Uncle Jasper is providing you with pretty new clothes, and you are dissatisfied because I refused to buy you a gaudy brooch. I really am ashamed of you!"
"Lulu has such a lot of jewellery," Celia murmured.
"Yes, I know she has. She wears so much that it quite spoils her appearance. I have no desire to see a daughter of mine decked out so showily as Lulu."
Mrs. Wallis looked a little uneasy. She had not wished Celia to visit the Tillotsons; but Sir Jasper had overruled her objections, and she could give no adequate reason for refusing the lawyer's invitation, for she had, in fact, grown to like Lulu, having discovered that her frivolities were mostly on the surface, and that at heart she was really good-natured, in spite of the selfishness which was the result of her bringing up rather than her natural disposition.
"In a way I wish Joy was going with you," Mrs. Wallis continued, "but she pleaded so hard to be allowed to remain at the Moat House now Eric is at home. Those two are devoted to each other."
Celia assented absently, her mind evidently far away. Her mother watching her, wondered what she was thinking about. The discontented expression had gone from the girl's face, and she looked as placid and sweet-tempered as she usually did. Presently she said:
"You mustn't think me ungrateful, mother, for I'm not really; only I was a wee bit disappointed that you wouldn't buy me a new brooch. I daresay you were right, and it was wrong of me to mind. I won't think any more about it."
"That's right, my dear," Mrs. Wallis responded. "I think you ought to trust to me to know what is suitable for you to wear, and what is not."