Joyce remembered that conversation with Mrs. Caruth, and how, after it, she had gone less to Fernsclough, until the time of her great trouble came. Then her old friend had been constant in her attentions to the dear father, and full of sympathy with herself. Her uncle's arrival had taken her out of Mrs. Caruth's hands, and they had drifted widely apart from each other during the last nine months.
This unexpected invitation to spend Christmas at Fernsclough, and with it the direct news of Major Caruth's presence there, seemed to say, "Forget that I raised a barrier between you and ourselves. Come back to Fernsclough, and take again your old place. Rejoice with me in having my son here once more, and be to us both, what you were during those happy years long ago."
Joyce had answered the letter with a somewhat heavy heart, whilst feeling angry with herself that she could be anything but glad at the prospect of staying at Springfield Park for Christmas.
"Before your kind letter came, I had promised to remain here," she wrote. "Indeed, I felt only too happy at the thought of being allowed to stay, and did not dream of receiving any other invitation. You will know, dear Mrs. Caruth, that I would rather spend Christmas at Fernsclough than in any other place in the world, for, though Welton and its neighbourhood are associated with the greatest sorrows of my life, all its joyful memories are bound up with them also. Thank God these are so many!"
"I should dearly love to go in and out of the cottages, and see my old friends there, but it cannot be. I have promised Mrs. Ross; the children count on my staying; I am pledged to help here in everything that I used to have a finger in at Welton. I can only thank you again and again, and wish you every joy that the word Christmas can suggest. The presence of Major Caruth will make amends for the absence of all others. I do rejoice that he will be at Fernsclough for Christmas, especially as he has so often been away at that season. Nevertheless, I hope you will both miss me a little, as I have never before been absent from Welton at Christmas. Please give him my kind remembrances and all imaginable good wishes."
"I think you will be pleased to know that my cousin, Adelaide Evans, has also written to ask me to The Chase, and this, too, with her mother's knowledge and, to some extent, approbation. I am glad of this, and the letter has set me thinking and wondering whether I was as kind and as considerate as I might have been when under my uncle's roof. I went to The Chase almost a stranger, and I fear I was more ready to look for slights than to expect kindness. The very fact that my cousin Adelaide sought me out as she did, met me more than half-way in sympathy and friendship, and has continued ever since my affectionate relative, correspondent, and friend, proves that I was harsh in my judgment, and unnecessarily proud. My aunt was not kind, and I was very desolate; nevertheless, if I had to live over again those months at The Chase, I believe I should act very differently, and try more to merit and to win the love of those around me."
"All recent circumstances have been made to work together for my good in a manner that I neither hoped for nor deserved. I trust the memory of mercies received will make me more thankful, trustful, and humble in the future."
The letter contained allusions to old Welton friends, and other matters which need not be repeated.
Mrs. Caruth closed it with mingled feelings of pleasure and disappointment. She was glad of all the good that had come to Joyce, and of the glimpse of the girl's heart which it gave her. But she was honestly sorry that she could not come to Fernsclough, for, having made up her mind to ask Joyce, she really wanted her.
Mrs. Caruth told her son what she had done, and had her reward in seeing the lighting up of his face, and in feeling herself drawn to his side by an embracing arm.
"Thanks, little mother," said he, then bent down and kissed her. "You have carried out the thought that came into my own mind after we were talking of Joyce the other evening. It would have brought back old times most delightfully if she could have come to us, but seeing she is obliged to refuse, we must make all the more of each other. One thing, however, I should like to do. You know how Joyce thought of all the poor folk at Christmas time, and stirred up the richer ones to give of their abundance, so that there might be a cheery fireside and a well-spread table in every cottage. You can tell me just how she managed this, and whom she helped. We will do it this year, and tell the people that we act for their old friend and pastor, Mr. Mirlees, and for Joyce. They will miss her face as we shall, little mother, but they shall miss nothing else, and still, as in old times, many a voice will pray, 'May God bless Miss Joyce, and give her a happy Christmas, and many more to follow it!'"
"It is a good thought, Alec, and we will carry it out together. I will write and tell Joyce, and that it was your suggestion. Or would you like to write yourself?"
"Thanks, no; you shall write, and put in all the kind wishes you can think of on my behalf," which decision perplexed Mrs. Caruth not a little. She had quite expected an eager affirmative response when she proposed that Alec should write to Joyce, and was somewhat disappointed at his matter-of-fact refusal.