"Did Mrs. More mention it yesterday, Aunt Lettice?"
"Yes; and she said she would like to have some communication with you. She had seen you riding with your father, and was taken by your looks. She inquired what education you had, and was shocked when I told her absolutely none. I told her I had implored your father to send you to a boarding-school at Clifton, but that he was obstinate. For, with all his good qualities, Joyce, we must concede that your father is obstinate."
"He is determined to do what is right," said Joyce, "if that is obstinacy."
Miss Falconer smiled.
"I have known him longer than you have, little Joyce," she said. "But tell me about this proposition of Mrs. More's: is it possible to carry it out? Mrs. More has such frequent attacks of illness, that it is well to lose no time. Shall I write to Mrs. More, and propose that you should spend a week at Barley Wood?"
"Oh! I don't think mother could spare me for a week. Did Mrs. More ask Charlotte?"
"No, but I may suggest it. Probably she thinks Charlotte is in good hands; she knows that I have not neglected her education. She has refined, poetical tastes; she can work beautifully in coloured silks; she can paint flowers, and she can play on the piano very prettily. These are the accomplishments which we look for in a young gentlewoman; and——"
"I have none of them!" Joyce exclaimed; not hopelessly, but almost defiantly: "but, Aunt Lettice, I am not sure that I want them."
"Dear child, I am sure that you do want them," was the reply, with a smile. "There is a want of 'finish' about you; the more to be lamented——"
Miss Falconer's speech was interrupted by the appearance of the neat maid-servant, who laid the cloth, and set out, with the utmost precision, the glasses and plates and dishes.