"No," Joy said faintly. "Have you got your work, or a book? Give me my crochet. I like to try to do something, though lying flat it is rather tiring."
Bet did as she was told, and then said humbly, "I shan't talk unless you wish me to talk;" and the poor girl settled herself by the window till a bell rang.
"That is for you to go down for my tea," Joy said. "It saves Susan's legs, you know."
Bet was only too happy to be of use, and hurried down stairs at once for the tray.
"Be careful now," Susan said; "and don't fall upstairs and break the crockery. There's a cup for yourself, and Mrs. Harrison has sent over a bit of wedding-cake. It's very black, and I don't like the looks of the sugar; but I dare say it may eat better than it looks."
The day wore on to evening, and the row was quiet, when Joy, who had been lying very still, suddenly said—
"I have been dreaming of Jack again—Jack Harrison. I think he must be coming home."
"Did you care for Jack Harrison very much?"
"Very much," said Joy; "he was always so good to me. That last day before he ran away he lent me that pretty book you were looking at, and said we would learn those verses at the beginning together, and I never saw him again. That was a dreadfully sad time; and then, not content with being very hard on Jack, Miss Pinckney and your uncle said he was a thief. Think of that! Jack a thief! Miss Pinckney said he had got the key of a drawer and taken out a little box, where she kept the money. There were four or five pounds in it."
"A box!" Bet said; "was it a big box?"