On the following morning, when Mr. Evans went down, expecting to take his breakfast in solitude, and feeling how much he should miss Joyce's gentle ministry, he found Adelaide already seated at the table. She rose as he entered and lifted her face for a kiss.
"Now another, papa," she said. "That is for Joyce. You must give me one every morning for her, as I am her deputy."
It was such a new thing for Mr. Evans to be greeted thus by his own children, that he could hardly realize that he was awake, but he showered many kisses on the fair, bright face that waited for them.
"I did not expect to see you, my dear," he said.
"No, dear papa, but I must try to be a better daughter. I told you yesterday that I was beginning to learn new lessons. If I become what I wish to be, remember, Joyce was my first teacher. When I asked what I could do for her, she told me what I might do in a little way for you. But for her, I should not be here; however, I will not leave you to a lonely meal again."
And Adelaide kept her promise.
[CHAPTER V.]
JOYCE reached the station nearest to Springfield Park at three o'clock, having had a change of trains, and a stoppage of an hour and a half on the road. Mrs. Caruth's maid, returning direct to Fernsclough, would rejoin her mistress before six.
Her train would not, however, start for twenty minutes, so she was able to tell her mistress that she had seen Miss Mirlees in charge of a grey-haired coachman, who, with two little girls, awaited her arrival.
"Are you the young person for Springfield Park?" asked the man.