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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30147-h.zip b/30147-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4cb69f --- /dev/null +++ b/30147-h.zip diff --git a/30147-h/30147-h.htm b/30147-h/30147-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ed449a --- /dev/null +++ b/30147-h/30147-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13602 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Opportunities, by Susan Warner +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.transnote {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.intro {font-size: medium ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Opportunities, by Susan Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Opportunities + +Author: Susan Warner + +Release Date: October 1, 2009 [EBook #30147] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OPPORTUNITIES *** + + + + +Produced by Daniel Fromont. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="transnote"> +[Transcriber's note: This is the second of a series of four novels by +Susan Warner, all of which are in the Project Gutenberg collection: +<BR><BR> + 1. What She Could<BR> + 2. Opportunities<BR> + 3. The House in Town<BR> + 4. Trading]<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +OPPORTUNITIES, +</H1> + +<BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +A SEQUEL TO "WHAT SHE COULD." +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +BY THE AUTHOR OF +<BR> +"THE WIDE WIDE WORLD," &c. +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +LONDON: +<BR> +JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. +<BR> +MDCCCLXXI. +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it." Ecc. ix. 10. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="100%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap01">CHAPTER I</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap02">CHAPTER II</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap03">CHAPTER III</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap04">CHAPTER IV</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap05">CHAPTER V</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="17%"> +<A HREF="#chap06">CHAPTER VI</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">CHAPTER VII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">CHAPTER IX</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">CHAPTER X</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">CHAPTER XI</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">CHAPTER XII</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +OPPORTUNITIES. +</H2> + +<BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +It was the morning after that Sunday when Matilda had been baptized. +The girls came down to prepare breakfast as usual; Maria in a very +unsettled humour. She was cloudy and captious to a degree that Matilda +could not understand. The kitchen was hot; the butter was soft; the +milk was turned; the bread was dry. All things went wrong. +</P> + +<P> +"It is no wonder the bread is dry," said Matilda; "it has been baked +ever since last Friday." +</P> + +<P> +"Thursday. I didn't say it was a wonder. Aunt Candy <I>will</I> have the +bread dry. I hate it!" +</P> + +<P> +"And it is no wonder the butter is soft, if you keep it up here in the +kitchen. The kitchen must be hot, with this hot stove. But the milkman +will be along directly." +</P> + +<P> +"No, he won't. We always have to wait for him; or take the old milk. +And I can't be bothered to keep the butter down cellar and be running +for it fifty times in an hour. I have enough to do as it is. Whatever +possessed Aunt Erminia to want corn bread this morning!" +</P> + +<P> +"Does she want corn bread?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, corn bread is nice. I am glad of it." +</P> + +<P> +"You wouldn't be glad if you had to make it. There! I knew it would be +so. There isn't a speck of soda. Put on your bonnet, Matilda, and run +round to Mr. Sample's and get some soda, will you?—and be quick. We +shall be late, and then there will be a row." +</P> + +<P> +"There won't be a <I>row</I>, Maria. Aunt Candy is always quiet." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish she wouldn't, then. I hate people who are always quiet. I would +rather they would flare out now and then. It's safer." +</P> + +<P> +"For what? <I>Safer</I>, Maria?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do go along and get your soda!" exclaimed Maria. "Do you think it will +be safe to be late with breakfast?" +</P> + +<P> +Maria was so evidently out of order this morning, that her sister +thought the best way was to let her alone; only she asked, "Aren't you +well, Maria?" and got a sharp answer; then she went out. +</P> + +<P> +It was a delicious spring morning. The air stirred in her face its soft +and glad breaths of sweetness; the sunlight was the very essence of +promise; the village and the green trees, now out in leaf, shone and +basked in the fair day. It was better than breakfast, to be out in the +air. Matilda went round the corner, into Butternut Street, and made for +Mr. Sample's grocery store, every step being a delight. Why could not +the inside world be as pleasant as the outside? Matilda was musing and +wishing, when just before she reached Mr. Sample's door, she saw what +made her forget everything else; even the mischievous little boy who +belonged to Mrs. Dow. What was he doing here in Butternut Street? +Matilda's steps slackened. The boy knew her, for he looked and then +grinned, and then bringing a finger alongside of his nose in a peculiar +and mysterious expressiveness, he repeated his old words— +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't you green?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose so," said Matilda. "I dare say I am. What then? Green is not +the worst colour." +</P> + +<P> +The boy looked at her, a little confounded. +</P> + +<P> +"If you would come to Sunday-school," Matilda went on, "<I>you</I> would be +a better colour than you are—by and by." +</P> + +<P> +"What colour be I?" said the boy. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd be a better colour," said Matilda. "Just come and see." +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't green," the boy remonstrated. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda passed on, went into Mr. Sample's and got her soda. She had a +few cents of change. A thought came into her head. Peeping out, she saw +that Mrs. Dow's boy was still lingering where she had left him. +Immediately Matilda requested to have the worth of those cents in +sugared-almonds; and with her little packages went into the street +again. The boy eyed her. +</P> + +<P> +"What is your name?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Hain't got none." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you have. What does your mother call you at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"She calls me—the worst of all her plagues," said the fellow, grinning. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no; but when she calls you from somewhere—what does she call you?" +</P> + +<P> +"She calls me out of the garding and down from the attic." +</P> + +<P> +"Look here," said Matilda, showing a sugar-plum; "I'll give you that, +if you will tell me." +</P> + +<P> +The boy eyed it, and her, and finally said— +</P> + +<P> +"Lem." +</P> + +<P> +"Your name is Lem?" +</P> + +<P> +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"There, Lem, is a sugar-plum for you. Now if you'll come to +Sunday-school next Sunday, and stay and behave yourself, I'll give you +three more." +</P> + +<P> +"Three more?" said the boy. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Now come, and you'll like it." +</P> + +<P> +And Matilda sped home with her soda. +</P> + +<P> +"I should think you had been making the soda," said Maria; "you have +been long enough. What kept you?" +</P> + +<P> +"How <I>do</I> they make soda, I wonder?" said Matilda, looking at it. "Do +you know, Maria?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have enough to do to know how to get breakfast. Tilly, run and grind +the coffee and make it—quick, will you? now I am in a hurry." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda thought Maria might have done it herself, while she was waiting +for the soda. But she said nothing of that. In ten minutes more the +coffee was made, the corn bread was ready, and the ladies came down. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was in a mood as gentle as the morning, and almost as +cloudless. Her morning's work and walk and the meeting with Lem Dow had +given her an appetite; and the work of the night before had left a +harmony in her spirit, as if sweet music were sounding there. Her +little face was thus like the very morning itself, shining with the +fair shining of inward beauty; in contrast with all the other faces at +the table. For Clarissa's features were coldly handsome and calm; Mrs. +Candy's were set and purposeful; and poor Maria's were sadly clouded +and out of humour. Matilda took little heed of them all; she was +thinking of Lemuel Dow. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda," said her aunt, suddenly—"I wish you to come to me every +morning to read. A person who has taken the step you took last night, +is no longer a child, but deserves to be treated as a woman. It is +necessary that you should fit yourself for a woman's place. Come to me +at ten o'clock. I will have you read to me some books that will make +you better understand the things you have taken upon you, and the +things you have done." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I am a child yet, Aunt Candy," Matilda answered in some dismay. +</P> + +<P> +"You think so, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am,—I feel so; and I <I>am</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you considered yourself more than a child. But you have +assumed a woman's place, and it is now necessary that you should be +fitted for it. <I>I</I> think the best way is to get the preparation first; +but in your church, it seems, they prefer the other course. You are +under my care in the house, at any rate, and I shall do my duty by you." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not understand you, Aunt Candy," Matilda spoke, quite bewildered. +</P> + +<P> +"No, my dear, I suppose not. That is just what I think so +objectionable. But we will do what we can to remedy it." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want to prepare me for, Aunt Erminia?" +</P> + +<P> +"For your position, my dear, as a member of the Church. That is not a +child's position. You have placed yourself in it; and now the question +is how to enable you to maintain it properly. I cannot treat you as a +child any longer." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda wondered very much how she was to be treated. However, silence +seemed the wisest plan at present. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose <I>I</I> am a child still," remarked Maria. +</P> + +<P> +"I have never observed anything inconsistent with that supposition, my +dear," her aunt serenely answered. +</P> + +<P> +"And if I had been baptized last night, you would have more respect for +me," went on poor Maria. +</P> + +<P> +"My respect is not wholly dependent on forms, my dear. If it had been +done in a proper way, of course, things would be different from what +they are. I <I>should</I> have more respect for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Clarissa has done it in a proper way, I suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"When she was of a proper age—yes; certainly." +</P> + +<P> +"And then, what did she promise? All that they promised last night?" +</P> + +<P> +"The vows are much the same." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, people ought not to make vows till they are ready to keep +them—ought they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly they should not." +</P> + +<P> +"Well——" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, it is a very bad habit to begin every sentence with a 'well.' +You do it constantly." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Aunt Candy——" +</P> + +<P> +"There!" exclaimed Clarissa. "Again." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't care," said Maria. "I can't help it. I don't know when I +do it. I was going to ask—and you put everything out of my head.—Aunt +Candy, do you think Clarissa has given up, really, the pomps and +vanities and all that, you know? She spent twenty-four dollars, I heard +her say, on the trimming of that muslin dress; and she bought a parasol +the other day for ten dollars, when one for three would have done +perfectly well; and she pays always twelve dollars for her boots, +twelve and ten dollars; when she could get nice ones for four and five. +Now what's that?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's impertinence," said Clarissa. "And untruth; for the four and five +dollar boots hurt my feet." +</P> + +<P> +"They are <I>exactly</I> the same," said Maria; "except the kid and the +trimming and the beautiful making." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," said Clarissa, "I have a right to wear comfortable shoes, +if I can get them." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you have a right to pomps and vanities," returned Maria; "but I +say you <I>haven't</I> a right, after you have declared and sworn you would +have nothing to do with them." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma," said Clarissa, but with heightened colour, "Is this a child?" +</P> + +<P> +"After the Shadywalk pattern," Mrs. Candy answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Girls in Shadywalk have a <I>little</I> sense, when they get to be as old +as sixteen," Maria went on. "Where you have been, perhaps they do not +grow up so fast." +</P> + +<P> +"People would put weights on their heads if they did," said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't matter," said Maria. "You can imagine that I am as old as +you are; and I say that it is more respectable not to make promises and +vows than to make them and not keep them." +</P> + +<P> +"Do not answer her, my dear," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"And that is the reason why I have <I>not</I> been baptized, or whatever you +call it——" +</P> + +<P> +"I never said so, Maria," said her aunt. "The two things are not the +same." +</P> + +<P> +"Imagine it!" said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you said just now—I don't know what you said!—but you said at +any rate that if it had been done in a proper way, you would think more +of me; and <I>I</I> say, that it is better not to make vows till you are +ready to keep them. I am not ready to give up dancing; and I would have +expensive hats and dresses, and feathers, and watches, and chains, and +everything pretty that money can buy, if I had the money; and I like +them; and I want them." +</P> + +<P> +"I have not given up dancing," said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"Nor other things either," retorted Maria; "but they are pomps and +vanities. That is what I say. You promised you would have nothing to do +with them." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma!" said Clarissa, appealingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, my dear," said her mother. "The amount of ignorance in Maria's +words discourages me from trying to answer them." +</P> + +<P> +"Ignorance and superstition, mamma." +</P> + +<P> +"And superstition," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda thinks just the same way," Clarissa went on, meeting the broad +open astonished eyes of the little girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," said Mrs. Candy. "Matilda is too much a child to exercise +her own judgment on these matters. She just takes what has been told +her." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you given up dancing too, Tilly?" Clarissa went on. +</P> + +<P> +"I have never thought about it, Cousin Clarissa." +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda all over!" exclaimed the young lady. "She has not thought +about it, mamma. When she thinks about it, she will know what her part +is." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," said Mrs. Candy. "She might do worse." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you think I can't think," said poor Maria. +</P> + +<P> +"No, my dear; I only think you have not begun yet to use your power in +that direction. When you do, you will see things differently." +</P> + +<P> +"It would take a good deal of thinking, to make me see that giving up +the world and going into it were the same thing," said Maria. "And I +don't mean to promise to do it till I'm ready." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, this is not very pleasant," said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"No, my dear. We will leave the field to Maria. Come to me at ten +o'clock, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +The two ladies filed off up-stairs, and Maria sat down to cry. Matilda +began to clear the table, going softly back and forth between the +basement and the kitchen as if there were trouble in the house. Maria +sobbed. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't they mean?" she exclaimed, starting up at length. Matilda was +busy going in and out, and said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda! Why don't you speak? I say, ain't they mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"There's no use in talking so, Maria," said her little sister, looking +sorrowful. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, there is. People ought to hear the truth." +</P> + +<P> +"But if you know what is right, why don't you <I>do</I> it, Maria?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do—as well as I can." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Maria!—I mean, about what you were saying; giving up whatever is +not right." +</P> + +<P> +"Things are right for other people, that are not right for members of +the Church. That's why I want to wait awhile. I am not ready." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Maria, what makes them right for other people?" +</P> + +<P> +"They have not promised anything about them. Clarissa has <I>promised</I>, +and she don't do." +</P> + +<P> +"You have not promised." +</P> + +<P> +"No, of course I haven't." +</P> + +<P> +"But if they are right things, Maria, why <I>should</I> you, or anybody, +promise not to have anything to do with them?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you are too wise, Matilda!" her sister answered impatiently. +"There is no need for you to go to read with Aunt Candy; you know +everything already." +</P> + +<P> +The rest of the morning was very silent between the sisters, till it +came to the time for Matilda to present herself in her aunt's room. +There meanwhile a consultation had been held. +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, that girl is getting unendurable." +</P> + +<P> +"Must wait a little while, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +"What will you do with her then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Something. I can send her to school, at any rate." +</P> + +<P> +"But the expense, mamma?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is not much, at the district school. That is where she has been +going." +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda too?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose that will be the best place. I am not sure about sending +Matilda. She's a fine child." +</P> + +<P> +"She will be handsome, mamma." +</P> + +<P> +"She is very graceful now. She has a singular manner." +</P> + +<P> +"But she is spoiled, mamma!" +</P> + +<P> +"I shall unspoil her. Tilly is very young yet, and she has not had +enough to do. I shall give her something else to think of, and get +these absurdities out of her head. She just wants something to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, she is not an easy child to influence. She says so little and +keeps her own counsel. I think you don't know her." +</P> + +<P> +"I never saw the child yet that was a match for me," said Mrs. Candy, +complacently. "I like best one that has some stuff in her. Maria is a +wet sponge; you can squeeze her dry in a minute; no character, no +substance. Matilda is different. I should like to keep Tilly." +</P> + +<P> +"If you could keep her out of Mr. Richmond's influence, mamma, it would +be a help. That church ruins her. She will be fit for nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"I will take the nonsense out of her," said Mrs. Candy. "I cannot take +her out of the church, while we remain here, for that would raise a hue +and cry; but I will do as well. Here she comes." +</P> + +<P> +A little soft knock at the door was followed by the little girl +herself; looking demure and sweet, after her fashion lately. It used to +be arch and sweet. But Matilda had been very sober since her mother's +death. The room into which she came had an air now very unlike all the +rest of the house. Mrs. Englefield's modest preparations for the +comfort of her guests were quite overlaid and lost sight of. It was as +if some fairy had shaken her hand over the room, and let fall pleasant +things everywhere. On the Marseilles quilt a gorgeous silk coverlet lay +folded. On the dressing-table a confusion of vases and bottles, in +coloured glass and painted china, were mixed up with combs and brushes +and fans and watch pockets and taper stands. The table in the middle of +the floor was heaped with elegant books and trinkets and work-boxes and +writing implements; and book stands and book shelves were about, and +soft foot cushions were dropped on the carpet, and easy arm-chairs +stood conveniently, and some faint perfume breathed all through the +room. Mrs. Candy was in one arm-chair and Clarissa in another. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was bidden to take a cricket, which she privately resented, and +then her aunt placed in her hands a largish volume and pointed her to +the page where she was to begin. Glancing up and down, at the top of +the page and the beginning of the book, Matilda found it was a +treatise, or a collection of advices, for the instruction of persons +about to be received into the Church. Not a little dismayed by this +discovery, no less than by the heavy look of the pages, Matilda however +began her reading. It was dragging work, as she expected. Her thoughts +wandered. What could her aunt think she wanted with <I>this</I>, when she +had Mr. Richmond's instructions? What could these ponderous reasonings +be expected to add to his words? The immediate effect of them certainly +was not salutary to Matilda's mind. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, you do not read so well as usual," her aunt said at length. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda paused, glad to stop even for a little. +</P> + +<P> +"Your sentences come heavily from your tongue." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. They <I>are</I> heavy, aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear! Those are the words of the Rev. Benjamin Orderly—a very +famous writer, and loved by all good people. Those are excellent words +that you have been reading." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda said nothing further. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you understand them?" +</P> + +<P> +"They did not interest me, aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"My dear, they ought to interest one who has just taken such a step as +you have taken." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda wondered privately whether being baptized ought properly to +have any effect to change the natural taste and value of things; but +she did not answer. +</P> + +<P> +"You understood what you read, did you?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda coloured a little. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Candy, it was not interesting, and I did not think about it." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy drew the book severely from Matilda's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"After taking such a step as you took last night, you ought to try to +be interested, if it were only for consistency's sake. Do you see that +you were hasty? A person who does not care about the privileges and +duties of church membership most certainly ought not to be a church +member." +</P> + +<P> +"But, aunt Candy, I do care," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"So it seems." +</P> + +<P> +"I care about it as the Bible speaks of it; and as Mr. Richmond talks +about it." +</P> + +<P> +"You are very fond of Mr. Richmond, I know." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda added nothing to that, and there was a pause. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want anything more of me, Aunt Candy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I want to teach you something useful. Here are a quantity of +stockings of yours that need mending. I am going to show you how to +mend them. Go and get your work-box and bring it here." +</P> + +<P> +"Couldn't you tell me what you want me to do, Aunt Candy, and let me go +and do it where Maria is?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Maria is busy. And I have got to take a good deal of pains to +teach you, Tilly, what I want you to know. Go fetch your box and work +things." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda slowly went. It was so pleasant to be out of that perfumed room +and out of sight of the Rev. Mr. Orderly's writings. She lingered in +the passages; looked over the balusters and listened, hoping that by +some happy chance Maria might make some demand upon her. None came; the +house was still; and Matilda had to go back to her aunt. She felt like +a prisoner. +</P> + +<P> +"Now I suppose you have no darning cotton," said Mrs. Candy. "Here is a +needleful. Thread it, and then I will show you what next." +</P> + +<P> +"This is three or four needlefuls, aunt Candy. I will break it. I +cannot sew with such a thread." +</P> + +<P> +"Stop. Yes, you can. Don't break it. I will show you. Thread your +needle." +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't one big enough." +</P> + +<P> +That want was supplied. +</P> + +<P> +"Now you shall begin with running this heel," said Mrs. Candy. "See, +you shall put this marble egg into the stocking, to darn upon. Now look +here. You begin down here, at the middle, so—and take up only one +thread at a stitch, do you see? and skip so many threads each time——" +</P> + +<P> +"But there is no hole there, Aunt Erminia." +</P> + +<P> +"I know that. Heels should always be run before they come to holes. +There are half-a-dozen heels here, I should think, that require to be +run. Now, do you see how I do it? You may take the stocking, and when +you have darned a few rows, come and let me see how you get on." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda in a small fit of despair took the stocking to a little +distance and sat down to work. The marble egg was heavy to hold. It +took a long while to go up one side of the heel and down the other. She +was tired of sitting under constraint and so still. And her Aunt Candy +seemed like a jailer, and that perfumed room like a prison. The quicker +her work could be done, the better for her. So Matilda reflected, and +her needle went accordingly. +</P> + +<P> +"I have done it, Aunt Erminia," she proclaimed at last. +</P> + +<P> +"Done the heel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot possibly. Come here and let me look at it. Why, of course! +That is not done as I showed you, Tilly; these rows of darning should +be close together, one stitch just in the middle between two other +stitches; you have just gone straggling over the whole heel. That will +have to come all out." +</P> + +<P> +"But there is no hole in it," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Always darn <I>before</I> the holes come. That will not do. You must pick +it all out, Tilly." +</P> + +<P> +"Now?" said Matilda, despairingly. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly now. You make yourself trouble in that way. I am sorry. Pick +it all neatly out." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda went at it impatiently; tugged at the thread; pulled the heel +of her stocking into a very intricate drawn-up state; then had to +smooth it out again with difficulty. +</P> + +<P> +"This is very hard to come out," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is bad picking," said her aunt, composedly. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was very impatient and very weary besides. However, work did +it, in time. +</P> + +<P> +"Now see if you can do it better," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Now</I>, Aunt Erminia?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. It is your own fault that you have made such a business of +it. You should have done as I told you." +</P> + +<P> +"But I am <I>very</I> tired." +</P> + +<P> +"I dare say you are." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was very much in the mind to cry; but that would not have +mended matters, and would have hurt her pride besides. She went +earnestly to work with her darning needle instead. She could use it +nicely, she found, with giving pains and time enough. But it took a +great while to do a little. Up one side and down the other; then up +that side and down the first; threading long double needlefuls, and +having them used up with great rapidity; Matilda seemed to grow into a +darning machine. She was very still; only a deep-drawn long breath now +and then heaved her little breast. Impatience faded, however, and a +sort of dulness crept over her. At last she became very tired, so tired +that pride gave way, and she said so. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy remarked that she was sorry. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Candy, I think Maria may want me by this time." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. <I>That</I> is of no consequence." +</P> + +<P> +"Maria has got no one to help her." +</P> + +<P> +"She will not hurt herself," Clarissa observed. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Erminia, wouldn't you just as lieve I should finish this by and +by?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will think of that," said her aunt. "All you have to do, is to work +on." +</P> + +<P> +"I am very tired of it!" +</P> + +<P> +"That is not a reason for stopping, my dear. Rather the contrary. One +must learn to do things after one is tired. That is a lesson I learned +a great while ago." +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot work so well or so fast, when I am tired," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"And I cannot work at all while you are talking to me." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda's slow fingers drew the needle in and out for some time longer. +Then to her great joy, the dinner bell rang. +</P> + +<P> +"What does Maria mean?" said Mrs. Candy, looking at her watch. "It +wants an hour of dinner-time. Run and see what it is, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda ran down-stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think I have five pairs of hands?" inquired Maria, indignantly. +"It is nice for you to be playing up-stairs, and I working as hard as I +can in the kitchen! I won't stand this, I can tell you." +</P> + +<P> +"Playing!" echoed Matilda. "Well, Maria, what do you want done?" +</P> + +<P> +"Look and see. You have eyes. About everything is to be done. There's +the castors to put in order, and the lettuce to get ready—I wish +lettuce wouldn't grow!—and the table to set, and the sauce to make for +the pudding. Now hurry." +</P> + +<P> +It was absolutely better than play, to fly about and do all these +things, after the confinement of darning stockings. Matilda's glee +equalled Maria's discomfiture. Only, when it was all done and the +dinner ready, Matilda stood still to think. "I am sorry I was so +impatient this morning up-stairs," she said to herself. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +Matilda's spirits were not quite used up by the morning's experience, +for after dinner she put on her bonnet, and took her Bible, and set off +on an expedition, with out asking leave of anybody. She was bent upon +getting to Lilac Lane. "If I do not get there to-day, I don't know when +I shall," she said to herself. "There is no telling what Aunt Candy +will do." +</P> + +<P> +She got there without any difficulty. It was an overcast, Aprilish day, +with low clouds, and now and then a drop of rain falling. Matilda did +not care for that. It was all the pleasanter walking. Lilac Lane was at +some distance from home, and the sun had a good deal of power on sunny +days now. The mud was all gone by this time; in its place a thick +groundwork of dust. Winter frost was replaced by soft spring air; but +that gave a chance for the lane odours to come out—not the fragrance +of hawthorn and primrose, by any means. Nor any such pleasant sight to +be seen. Poor, straggling, forlorn houses; broken fences, or no +courtyards at all; thick dust, and no footway; garbage, and ashes, and +bones, but never even so much as a green potato patch to greet the eye, +much less a rose or a pink; an iron shop, and a livery stable at the +entrance of the lane, seeming dignified and elegant buildings by +comparison with what came afterwards. Few living things were abroad; a +boy or two, and two or three babies making discomposure in the dust, +were about all. Matilda wondered if every one of those houses did not +need to have the message carried to them? Where was she to begin? +</P> + +<P> +"Does Mrs. Eldridge live in this house, or in that?" Matilda asked a +boy in her way. +</P> + +<P> +"In nary one." +</P> + +<P> +"Where <I>does</I> she live?" +</P> + +<P> +"Old Sally Eldridge? Sam's grandmother?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know anything about Sam," said Matilda. "She lives alone." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, <I>she</I> lives alone. That's her door yonder—where the cat sits." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you." Matilda thought to ask if the boy went to Sunday-school; +but she felt as if all the force she had would be wanted to carry her +through the visit to Mrs. Eldridge. It was a forlorn-looking doorway; +the upper half of the door swinging partly open; the cottage dropping +down on one side, as if it was tired of the years when it had stood up; +not a speck of paint to be seen anywhere, and little, bare, broken +windows, not even patched with rags. Matilda walked up to the door and +knocked, sorely appalled at the view she got through the half-open +doorway. No answer. She knocked again. Then a weak, "Who is it?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda let herself in. There was a worn and torn rag carpet; an +unswept floor; boards and walls that had not known the touch of water +or soap in many, many months; a rusty little stove with no fire in it; +and a poor old woman, who looked in all respects like her surroundings; +worn and torn and dusty and unwashed and neglected. To her Matilda +turned, with a great sinking of heart. What could <I>she</I> do? +</P> + +<P> +"Who's here?" said the old woman, who did not seem to have her sight +clear. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda Englefield." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know no such a person." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe you would like to know me," said Matilda. "I am come to see you." +</P> + +<P> +"What fur? I hain't sent for nobody. Who told you to come?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I know you didn't. But I wanted to come and see you, Mrs. +Eldridge." +</P> + +<P> +"What fur? You're a little gal, bain't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am; and I thought maybe you would like to have me read a +chapter in the Bible to you." +</P> + +<P> +"A <I>what?</I>" said the old woman with strong emphasis. +</P> + +<P> +"A chapter in the Bible. I thought—perhaps you couldn't see to read it +yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Read?" said the old creature. "Never could. I never could see to read, +for I never knowed how. No, I never knowed how; I didn't." +</P> + +<P> +"You would like to hear reading, now, wouldn't you? I came to read to +you a chapter—if you'll let me—out of the Bible." +</P> + +<P> +"A chapter?" the old woman repeated—"what's a chapter now? It's no +odds; 'taint bread, nor 'taint 'baccy." +</P> + +<P> +"No, it is not tobacco," said Matilda; "but it is better than tobacco." +</P> + +<P> +"Couldn't ye get me some 'baccy, now?" said the old woman, as if with a +sudden thought. But Matilda did not see her way clear to that; and the +hope failing, the failure of everything seemed to be expressed in a +long-drawn "heigh-ho!" which ran wearily down all the notes of the +gamut. Matilda felt she was not getting on. The place and the woman +were inexpressibly forlorn to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Who sent ye fur to come here?" was next asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody sent me." +</P> + +<P> +"What fur did ye come?" +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you would like to hear a little reading." +</P> + +<P> +"'Taint a song, is it? I used fur to hear songs oncet; they don't sing +songs in this village. They sells good 'baccy, though. Heigh-ho!" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda grew desperate. She was not making any headway. As a last +expedient, she opened her book, plunged into the work, and gave in the +hearing of Mrs. Eldridge a few of its wonderful sentences. Maybe those +words would reach her, thought Matilda. She read slowly the +twenty-third psalm, and then went back to the opening verse and read it +again. +</P> + +<P> +"'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.'" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Eldridge had been very still. +</P> + +<P> +"A shepherd," she repeated, when Matilda had stopped;—"he used fur to +be a shepherd." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda wondered very much what the old lady was thinking of. Her next +words made it clearer. +</P> + +<P> +"He kept sheep fur Mr.—Mr.—him they called the Judge; I don't mind +who he was. He kept sheep for him, he did." +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Brockenhurst?" +</P> + +<P> +"That was it—I can't speak his name; he kept his sheep. It was a big +place." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know Judge Brockenhurst's place," said Matilda; "he has a great +many sheep. <I>Who</I> kept them?" +</P> + +<P> +"He did, dear. My old man. He kept 'em. It's long sen." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, didn't he take good care of them, the sheep?" +</P> + +<P> +"My old man? Ay, did he. There warn't no better a shepherd in the +country. He took care of 'em. The Judge sot a great deal by him." +</P> + +<P> +"How did he take care of them?" Matilda asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don' know. He watched 'em, and he took 'em round, and he didn't +let no harm happen to 'em. He didn't." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, this I read was about the Good Shepherd and <I>His</I> sheep. He +takes care of them, too. Don't you think the Lord Jesus takes care of +His sheep?" +</P> + +<P> +"He don't take no care o' me," said the poor old woman. "There ain't no +care took o' me anywheres—neither in heaven nor in earth. No, there +ain't." +</P> + +<P> +"But are you one of His sheep?" said Matilda, doubtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Eh?" said the woman, pricking up her ears, as it were. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you one of the Lord's sheep, Mrs. Eldridge?" +</P> + +<P> +"Am I one of 'em? I'm poor enough fur to be took care of; I am, and +there ain't no care took o' me. Neither in heaven nor on earth. No, +there ain't." +</P> + +<P> +"But are you one of His sheep?" Matilda persisted. "His sheep follow +Him. Did you ever do that, ma'am? Were you ever a servant of the Lord +Jesus?" +</P> + +<P> +"A servant? I warn't no servant, nowheres," was the answer. "I had no +need to do that. We was 'spectable folks, and we had our own home and +lived in it, we did. I warn't never no servant o' nobody." +</P> + +<P> +"But we all ought to be God's servants," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Eh?—I hain't done no harm, I hain't. Nobody never said as I done 'em +no harm." +</P> + +<P> +"But the servants of Jesus love Him, and obey Him, and do what He +says," Matilda repeated, growing eager. "They do just what He says, and +they love Him, and they love everybody, because He gives them new +hearts." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know as He never give me nothing," said Mrs. Eldridge. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ever ask Him for a new heart? and did you ever try to please +Him? Then you would be one of His sheep, and He would take care of you." +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody takes no care o' me," said the poor woman, stolidly. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen," said Matilda. "This is what he says— +</P> + +<P> +"'I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd giveth his life for the +sheep.' He cared so much for you as that. 'I am the good shepherd, and +know My sheep, and am known of Mine. As the Father knoweth Me, even so +know I the Father: and I lay down My life for the sheep.' +</P> + +<P> +"He cared so much for you as that. He died that you might be forgiven +and live. Don't say He didn't care?" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know as He'd never done nothing fur me," said Mrs. Eldridge. +</P> + +<P> +"He did that. Listen, now, please," +</P> + +<P> +"'My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me: and I +give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall +any pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them Me, is +greater than all; and none is able to pluck them out of My Father's +hand. I and My Father are one.'" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda lifted her head and sought, in the faded blue eye over against +her, if she could find any response to these words. She fancied there +was a quieter thoughtfulness in it. +</P> + +<P> +"That has a good sound," was the old woman's comment, uttered +presently. "But I'm old now, and I can't do nothing; and there ain't +nobody to take care o' me. There ain't." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda glanced over the desolate room. It was dusty, dirty, neglected, +and poverty stricken. What if <I>she</I> had been sent to "take care" of +Mrs. Eldridge? The thought was exceedingly disagreeable; but once come, +she could not get rid of it. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want, Mrs. Eldridge?" she asked at length. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want no more readin'. But it has a good sound—a good sound." +</P> + +<P> +"What would you like to have somebody do for you? not reading." +</P> + +<P> +"There was folks as cared fur me," said the old woman. "There ain't +none no more. No more. There ain't no one as cares." +</P> + +<P> +"But if there <I>was</I> some one—what would you tell her to do for +you?—now, to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"Any one as cared would know," said Mrs. Eldridge. "There's 'most all +to do. 'Spect I'd have a cup o' tea for my supper—'spect I would." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you have tea? Won't you have it to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +The feeble eye looked over at the little rusty stove. +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't no fire," she said; "nor nothing to make fire; it's cold; +and there ain't nobody to go out and get it fur me—I can't go pick up +sticks no more. An' if I had the fire, there ain't no tea. There ain't +no one as cares." +</P> + +<P> +"But what will you have then?" said Matilda. "What do you have for +supper?" +</P> + +<P> +"Go and look," said Mrs. Eldridge, turning her head towards a corner +cupboard, the doors of which stood a little open. "If there's anything, +it's there; if it ain't all eat up." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda hesitated; then thought she had better know the state of +things, since she had leave; and crossed to the cupboard door. It was a +problem with her how to open it; so long, long it was since anything +clean had touched the place; she made the end of her glove finger do +duty and pulled the cupboard leaves open. +</P> + +<P> +She never forgot what she saw there, nor the story of lonely and +desolate life which it told. Two cups and saucers, one standing in a +back corner, unused and full of cobwebs, the other cracked, soiled, +grimy, and full of flies. Something had been in it; what, Matilda could +not examine. On the bare shelf lay a half loaf of bread, pretty dry, +with a knife alongside. A plate of broken meat, also full of flies, and +looking, Matilda thought, fit for the flies alone, was there; a cup +half full of salt; an empty vinegar cruet, an old shawl, ditto hood; a +pitcher with no water; an old muslin cap, half soiled; a faded bit of +ribband, and a morsel of cheese flanked by a bitten piece of +gingerbread. Matilda came back sick at heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Where do you sleep, Mrs. Eldridge? and who makes your bed? Or can you +make it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sleep?" said the old woman. "Nobody cares. I sleep in yonder." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda looked, doubted, finally crossed the room again and pushed a +little inwards the door Mrs. Eldridge had looked at. She came back +quickly. So close, so ill-smelling, so miserable to her nice senses, +the room within was; with its huddled up bundle of dirty coverlets, and +the soiled bed under them on the floor. Not much of a bed either, and +not much else in the room. A great burden was gathering on Matilda's +heart and shoulders; the burden of the wants of her neighbour, and her +own responsibilities. +</P> + +<P> +The afternoon was now waning; what was to be done? Matilda tried to +think that somebody would come in and do what she herself was very +unwilling to do; but conscience reminded her that it was very unlikely. +Did that neglected cupboard give much promise of kind attendance or +faithful supply? or that rusty stove look like neighbourly care? But +then Matilda pleaded to herself that she had her own work, and not much +time; and that such a dirty place was very unfit for her nice little +hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Good-bye, Mrs. Eldridge," she said, lingering. "I'll come and see you +again." +</P> + +<P> +"'Taint a pleasant place to come to," said the old woman. "'Taint a +pleasant place fur nobody. And nobody comes to it. Nobody comes." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll come, though," said Matilda. She could do so much as that, she +thought. "Good-bye. I must go home." +</P> + +<P> +She left the old woman and the house, and began her walk. The lane, she +observed, looked as if other houses and other people in it might be as +ill off as those she had been visiting. "She is not worse than a number +of others, I dare say," thought Matilda. "I could not visit them all, +and I could not certainly take care of them all. It really makes little +difference on the whole, whether or no I kindle Mrs. Eldridge's fire. +It is delightful to get away from the place." +</P> + +<P> +And then Matilda tried to think that in making her visit and reading to +the old woman, she had really done a good deal; made a good afternoon's +work. Nobody else had done even so much as that; not even anybody in +all Shadywalk. The walk home was quite pleasant, under the soothing +influence of these thoughts. Nevertheless, a little secret point of +uneasiness remained at Matilda's heart. She did not stop to look at it, +until she and Maria went up to bed. Then, as usual, while Maria got +ready for sleep, Matilda knelt down before the table where her open +Bible lay under the lamp; and there conscience met her. +</P> + +<P> +And when conscience meets any one, it is the same thing as to say that +the Lord meets him. +</P> + +<P> +That was what Matilda felt this night. For her reading fell upon the +story of the woman who brought the precious ointment for the head of +Jesus, and poured it upon His feet also; whom the Lord, when she was +chidden, commended; saying, "Ye have the poor with you always, and +whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but Me ye have not always. She +hath done what she could." +</P> + +<P> +Had Matilda? And these poor whom we have always with us, she +recollected that in another place the Lord in a sort identifies Himself +with them, saying that what is done to His poor is done to Himself. +Mrs. Eldridge was not indeed one of the Lord's children, but that did +not help the matter. "For perhaps she will be," Matilda said to +herself. And what if the Lord had sent Matilda there now to be His +messenger? The success of the message might depend on the behaviour of +the messenger. But above all it pressed upon Matilda's heart that she +had not done what she <I>could;</I> and that in declining to make a fire in +Mrs. Eldridge's rusty little stove and in shrinking from waiting upon +her, she had lost a chance of waiting upon, perhaps, the Lord himself. +</P> + +<P> +"And it was such a good chance," thought Matilda; "such a good +afternoon; and there is no telling when I may get another. It was such +a good opportunity. And I lost it." +</P> + +<P> +The pain of a lost opportunity was something she had not counted upon. +It pressed hard, and was not easy to get rid of. The disagreeableness +of the place and the service faded into nothing before this pain. +Matilda went to bed with a sore heart, resolving to watch for the very +first chance to do what she had neglected to do this afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +But Lilac Lane looked very disagreeable to her thoughts the next day, +and the sharp effect of the Bible words had faded somewhat. +</P> + +<P> +"Maria," she said as they were washing up the dishes after +breakfast,—"I wish you would help me in something." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you call yourself a member of the Band yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course I do. What do you ask for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did not know," said Matilda, sighing. "You don't <I>do</I> the things +promised in the covenant. I didn't know but you had given it all up." +</P> + +<P> +"What don't I do?" inquired Maria, fiercely. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be angry, please, Maria. I do not mean to make you angry." +</P> + +<P> +"What don't I do, Matilda?" +</P> + +<P> +"You know, the covenant says, 'we stand ready to do His will.' He has +commanded that we should be baptized and join the Church, and that we +should follow Him—you know how, Maria. And you don't seem to like to +do it." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all?" +</P> + +<P> +"That is all about that." +</P> + +<P> +"Then, if you will mind your affairs, Matilda, I will try and mind +mine. And I will be much obliged to you." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you will not help me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Help in what?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is a poor woman, Maria," said her little sister, lowering her +voice, "a poor old woman, who has no one to take care of her, and +hardly anything to live upon. She lives—you can't think how she +lives!—in the most miserable little house, dirty and all; and without +fire or anybody to sweep her room, or make her bed, or make a cup of +tea for her. If you would help me, we might do something to make her +comfortable." +</P> + +<P> +"Where is she?" +</P> + +<P> +"In Lilac Lane." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you been to see her?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think Aunt Candy would say if she knew it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Will you help me, Maria?" +</P> + +<P> +"Help make her bed and sweep her room?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and get her a cup of tea sometimes, and a clean supper." +</P> + +<P> +"A clean supper!" exclaimed Maria. "Well! Yes, I guess I'll help you, +when I have nothing of my own to do. When the dinner gets itself, and +the house stays swept and dusted, and Aunt Candy lives without cakes +for breakfast." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"But I'll tell you what, Matilda," said her sister, "Aunt Candy will +never let you do this sort of work. You may as well give it up +peaceably, and not worry yourself nor anybody else. She'll never let +you go into Lilac Lane—not to speak of getting dirty people's dinners. +You may as well quit it." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell her, Maria." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll tell her yourself, first thing," said Maria, scornfully. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda had to go up-stairs soon to her reading in her aunt's room. It +was even more unintelligible, the reading, this time than before; +because Matilda's head was running so busily on something else. +</P> + +<P> +"You do not read well, child," said her aunt. +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am. I do not understand it." +</P> + +<P> +"But it is about what you have just done, Matilda. It is about the +ordinance of baptism, and the life proper to a person who has been +received into the Church. You ought to understand that." +</P> + +<P> +"I <I>do</I> understand it, in the Bible." +</P> + +<P> +"What does the Bible say about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"It says,—'My sheep hear My voice: and I know them, and they follow +Me.'" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean by 'following Him'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, living the sort of life He lived, and doing what He tells us to +do." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you propose to live the sort of life He lived? It's almost +blasphemy." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, no, aunt Candy; He tells us to do it." +</P> + +<P> +"Do what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Live the sort of life He lived. He says we must follow Him." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, how, for instance? In what?" +</P> + +<P> +"You know how <I>He</I> lived," said Matilda. "He helped people, and He +taught people, and He cured people; He was always doing good to people, +and trying to make them good. Especially poor, miserable people, that +nobody cared for." +</P> + +<P> +"Trying to make them good!" said Mrs. Candy. "As if His omnipotence +could not have made them good in a minute." +</P> + +<P> +"Then why didn't He?" said Matilda, simply. "It <I>sounds</I> as if He was +trying to make them good." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, child—it's no use talking; I wish I had had the training of you +earlier," said Mrs. Candy. "You are so prepossessed with ideas that +border on fanaticism, that it is a hard matter to get you into right +habits of thinking. Come here and take your darning." +</P> + +<P> +So Matilda did. The darning was not wearisome at all to-day, so busy +her thoughts were with the question of Mrs. Eldridge; how much or how +little Matilda ought to do for her, how much she <I>could</I>, and what were +the best arrangements to be set on foot. So intent she was on these +questions, that the darning was done with the greatest patience, and +therefore with the greatest success. Mrs. Candy and her daughter even +looked at each other and smiled over the demure, thoughtful little face +of the workwoman; and Matilda got praise for her work. +</P> + +<P> +She had made up her mind meanwhile that "she hath done what she +could"—should be her rule to go by. So as the after noon was fair, and +Mrs. Candy and her daughter both gone to make a visit at some miles' +distance, Matilda sallied forth. +</P> + +<P> +"Did she give you leave?" Maria asked, as she saw her sister getting +ready. +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"She wants you to ask leave always." +</P> + +<P> +"I never used to do that," said Matilda. Her voice choked before she +could finish her sentence. +</P> + +<P> +"You will get into trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"One trouble is better than another, though," said Matilda; and she +went. +</P> + +<P> +She went first to Mr. Sample's, and asked how much a pound of tea cost. +</P> + +<P> +"The last I sent your aunt," said Mr. Sample, "was one fifty a pound; +and worth it. Don't she approve the flavour?" +</P> + +<P> +"I believe so. But I want a little of another kind, Mr. Sample—if you +have any that is good, and not so high." +</P> + +<P> +"I have an excellent Oolong here for a dollar. Will you try that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Please give me a quarter of a pound." +</P> + +<P> +"She will like it," said Mr. Sample, weighing the quantity and putting +it up; "it really has as much body as the other sort, and I think it is +very nearly as good. The other is fifty cents a pound more. Tell Mrs. +Candy I can serve her with this if she prefers." +</P> + +<P> +"I want a loaf of bread too, if you please." +</P> + +<P> +"Baking failed?" said Mr. Sample. "Here, Jem, give this little girl a +loaf." +</P> + +<P> +He himself went to attend another customer, so Matilda paid for her +purchases without any more questions being asked her. She went to +another store for a little butter, and there also laid in a few +herrings; and then, with a full basket and a light heart, took the way +to Lilac Lane. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P> +Mrs. Eldridge was as she had left her yesterday; a trifle more forlorn, +perhaps. The afternoon being bright and sunny, made everything in the +house look more grimy and dusty for the contrast. Matilda shrank from +having anything to do with it. But yet, the consciousness that she +carried a basket of comfort on her arm was a great help. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, Mrs. Eldridge; how do you do?" she said, cheerily. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it that little gal?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is I, Mrs. Eldridge. I said I would come back. How do you do, +to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm most dead," said the poor woman. Matilda was startled; but looking +again, could not see that her face threatened anything like it. She +rather thought Mrs. Eldridge was tired of life; and she did not wonder. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't feel ill, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," the woman said, with a long drawn sigh. "There ain't no sickness +got hold o' me yet. There's no one as 'll care when it comes." +</P> + +<P> +"Would you like a cup of tea this afternoon?" +</P> + +<P> +"Tea?" said the poor woman, "I don't have no tea, child. Tea's for the +folks as has money, or somebody to care for 'em." +</P> + +<P> +"But I care for you," said Matilda, gently. "And the Lord Jesus cares. +And He gave me the money to get some tea, and I've got it. Now I'm +going to make a fire in the stove. Is there any wood anywhere?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fire?" said Mrs. Eldridge. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. To boil the kettle, you know. Is there any wood anywhere?" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got some tea?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and now I want to make the kettle boil. Where can I get some +wood?" +</P> + +<P> +"Kettle?" said the old woman. "I hain't no kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"No tea-kettle?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. It's gone. There ain't none." +</P> + +<P> +"What is there, then, that I can boil some water in?" +</P> + +<P> +"There's a skillet down in there," said Mrs. Eldridge, pointing to the +under part of the corner cupboard which Matilda had looked into the day +before. She went now to explore what remained. The lower part had once +been used, it seemed, for pots and kettles and stove furniture. At +least it looked black enough; and an old saucepan and a frying-pan, two +flat-irons very rusty, and a few other iron articles were there. But +both saucepan and frying-pan were in such a state that Matilda could +not think of using them. Days of purification would be needed first. So +she shut the cupboard door, and came back to the question of fire; for +difficulties were not going to overcome her now. And there were +difficulties. Mrs. Eldridge could not help her to any firing. She knew +nothing about it. None had been in the house for a long time. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda stood and looked at the stove. Then she emptied her basket; +laying her little packages carefully on a chair; and went off on a +foraging expedition. At a lumber yard or a carpenter's shop she could +pick up something; but neither was near. The houses in Lilac Lane were +too needy them selves to ask anything at them. Matilda went down the +lane, seeing no prospect of help, till she came to the iron shop and +the livery stable. She looked hard at both places. Nothing for her +purpose was to be seen; and she remembered that there were children +enough in the houses behind her to keep the neighbourhood picked clean +of chips and brushwood. What was to be done? She took a bold resolve, +and went into the iron shop, the master of which she knew slightly. He +was there, and looked at her as she came in. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Swain, have you any little bits of wood that you could let me +have? bits of wood to make a fire." +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda Englefield, ain't it?" said Mr. Swain. "Bits o' wood? bits of +iron are more in our way—could let ye have a heap o' <I>them</I>. Bits o' +wood to make a fire, did ye say? 'twon't be a big fire as 'll come out +o' that 'ere little basket." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not want a big fire—just some bits of wood to boil a kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"I want to know!" said Mr. Swain. "You hain't come all this way from +your house to get wood? What's happened to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, not for <I>our</I> fire! Oh no. I want it for a place here in the lane." +</P> + +<P> +"These folks picks up their own wood—you hadn't no need for to trouble +yourself about them." +</P> + +<P> +"No, but it is some one who cannot pick up her own wood, Mr. Swain, nor +get it any other way; it is an old woman, and she wants a little fire +to make a cup of tea." +</P> + +<P> +"I guess, if she can get the tea she can get the wood." +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody brought her the tea," said Matilda, who luckily was not in +one way a timid child. "I will pay for the wood if I can get some." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that's the game, eh?" said the man. "Well, as it's Mis' +Englefield's daughter—I guess we'll find you what will do you—how 'll +this suit, if I split it up for you, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +He handled an old box cover as he spoke. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda answered that it was the very thing; and a few easy blows of +Mr. Swain's hatchet broke it up into nice billets and splinters. Part +of these went into Matilda's basket, one end of them at least; the rest +she took with great difficulty in her apron; and so went back up the +lane again. +</P> + +<P> +It was good to see the glint of the old woman's eyes, when she saw the +wood flung down on the floor. Matilda went on to clear out the stove. +It had bits of coal and clinker in the bottom of it. But she had +furnished herself with a pair of old gloves, and her spirit was +thoroughly up to the work now. She picked out the coal and rubbish, +laid in paper and splinters and wood; now how to kindle it? Matilda had +no match. And she remembered suddenly that she had better have her +kettle ready first, lest the fire should burn out before its work was +done. So saying to Mrs. Eldridge that she was going after a match, she +went forth again. Where to ask? One house looked as forbidding as +another. Finally concluded to try the first. +</P> + +<P> +She knocked timidly and went in. A slatternly woman was giving supper +to a half dozen children who were making a great deal of noise over it. +The hurly-burly confused Matilda, and confused the poor woman too. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want?" she asked shortly. +</P> + +<P> +"I came to see if you could lend me a tea-kettle for half an hour." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want of my tea-kettle?" +</P> + +<P> +"I want only to boil some water." +</P> + +<P> +"Hush your noise, Sam Darcy!" said the woman to an urchin some ten +years old who was clamouring for the potatoes—"Who for?" +</P> + +<P> +"To boil some water for Mrs. Eldridge." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't live here?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, my tea-kettle's in use, you see. The cheapest way 'd be for Mrs. +Eldridge to get a tea-kettle for herself. Sam Darcy! if you lay a +finger on them 'taters till I give 'em to you——" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda closed the door and went over the way. Here she found a +somewhat tidy woman at work ironing. Nobody else in the room. She made +known her errand. The woman looked at her doubtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"If I let you take my kettle, I don't know when I'll see it agin. Mis' +Eldridge don't have the use of herself so 's she kin come over the +street to bring it back, ye see." +</P> + +<P> +"I will bring it back myself," said Matilda. "I only want it for a +little while." +</P> + +<P> +"Is Mis' Eldridge sick?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. I only want to make her a cup of tea." +</P> + +<P> +"I hadn't heerd nothin' of her bein' sick. Be you a friend o' hern?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"We've got sickness in <I>this</I> house," the woman went on. "And +everythin's wantin' where there's sickness; and hard to get it. It's my +old mother. She lies in there"—nodding towards an inner room—"night +and day, and day and night; and she'd like a bit o' comfort now and +then as well as another; and 'tain't often as I kin give it to her. +Life's hard to them as hain't got nothin' to live on. I hadn't ought to +complain, and I don't complain; but sometimes it comes over me that +life's hard." +</P> + +<P> +Here was another! +</P> + +<P> +"What does she want?" Matilda asked. "Is she very sick?" +</P> + +<P> +"She won't never be no better," her daughter answered; "and she lies +there and knows she won't never be no better; and she's all as full of +aches as she kin be, sometimes; and other times she's more easy like; +but she lies there and knows she can't never get up no more in this +world; and she wants 'most everythin'. I do what I kin." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think you can lend me your tea-kettle? I will be very much +obliged." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, if you'll bring it back yourself—I 'spose I will. It's all the +kettle I've got." +</P> + +<P> +She fetched it out of a receptacle behind the stove, brushed the soot +from its sides with a chicken's wing, and handed it to Matilda. It was +an iron tea-kettle, not very large to be sure, but very heavy to hold +at arm's length; and so Matilda was obliged to carry it, for fear of +smutching her frock. She begged a match too, and hastened back over the +street as well as she could. But Matilda's heart, though glad at the +comfort she was about to give, began to be wearily heavy on account of +the comfort she could not give; comfort that was lacking in so many +quarters where she could do nothing. She easily kindled her fire now; +filled the tea-kettle at the pump—this was very difficult, but without +more borrowing she could not help it—and at last got the kettle on, +and had the joy of hearing it begin to sing. The worst came now. For +that tea-cup and saucer and plate must be washed before they could be +used; and Matilda could not bear to touch them. She thought of taking +the unused cup at the back of the shelf; but conscience would not let +her. "You know those ought to be washed," said conscience; "and if you +do not do it, perhaps nobody else will." Matilda earnestly wished that +somebody else might. She had no bowl, either, to wash them in, and no +napkin to dry them. And here a dreadful thought suggested itself. Did +Mrs. Eldridge herself, too, do without washing? There were no towels to +be seen anywhere. Sick at heart, the little girl gathered up the soiled +pieces of crockery in her basket—the basket had a paper in it—and +went over the way again to Mrs. Rogers' cottage. As she went, it +crossed her mind, could Mrs. Rogers perhaps be the other one of those +two in Lilac Lane who needed to have the Bible read to them? Or were +there still others? And how many Christians there had need to be in the +world, to do all the work of it. Even in Shadywalk. And what earnest +Christians they had need to be. +</P> + +<P> +"Back again a'ready?" said the woman, as she let her in. Matilda showed +what she had in her basket, and asked for something to wash her dishes +in. She got more than she asked for; Sabrina Rogers took them from her +to wash them herself. +</P> + +<P> +"She has nobody to do anything for her," Matilda observed of the poor +old owner of the cup and saucer. +</P> + +<P> +"She ain't able to do for herself," remarked Sabrina; "that's where the +difference is. The folks as has somebody to do su'thin' for them, is +lucky folks. I never see none o' that luck myself." +</P> + +<P> +"But your mother has you," said Matilda, gently. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't do much for her, either," said Sabrina. "Poor folks must take +life as they find it. And they find it hard." +</P> + +<P> +"Can your mother read?" +</P> + +<P> +"She's enough to do to lie still and bear it, without readin'," said +the daughter. "Folks as has to get their livin' has to do without +readin'." +</P> + +<P> +"But would she like it?" Matilda asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder when these things <I>was</I> washed afore," said the woman, +scrubbing at them. "Like it? You kin go in and ask her." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda pushed open the inner door, and somewhat reluctantly went in. +It was decent, that room was; and this disabled old woman lay under a +patchwork quilt, on a bed that seemed comfortable. But the window was +shut, and the air was close. It was very disagreeable. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do to-day, Mrs. Rogers?" Matilda said, stepping nearer the +bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's that?" was the question. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda Englefield." +</P> + +<P> +"Who's 'Tilda Eggleford?" +</P> + +<P> +"I live in the village," said Matilda. "Are you much sick?" +</P> + +<P> +"Laws, I be!" said the poor woman. "It's like as if my bones was on +fire, some nights. Yes, I be sick. And I'll never be no better." +</P> + +<P> +"Does anybody ever come to read the Bible to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Read the Bible?" the sick woman repeated. Her face looked dull, as if +there had ceased to be any thoughts behind it. Matilda wondered if it +was because she had so little to think of. "What about reading the +Bible?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"You cannot read lying there, can you?" +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't a book nowheres in the house." +</P> + +<P> +"Not a Bible?" +</P> + +<P> +"A Bible? I hain't seen a Bible in five year." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember what is in the Bible?" said Matilda, greatly shocked. +This <I>was</I> living without air. +</P> + +<P> +"Remember?" said the woman. "I'm tired o' 'membering. I'd like to go to +sleep and remember no more. What's the use?" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you remember?" Matilda asked in some awe. +</P> + +<P> +"I remember 'most everything," said the woman, wearily. "Times when I +was well and strong—and young—and had my house comfor'ble and my +things respectable. Them times was once. And I had what I wanted, and +could do what I had a mind to. There ain't no use in remembering. I'd +like to forget. Now I lie here." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember nothing else?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"I remember it all," said the woman. "I've nothin' to do but think. +When I was first married, and just come home, and thought all the world +was"—she stopped to sigh—"a garden o' posies. 'Tain't much like +it—to poor folks. And I had my children around me—Sabriny's the last +on 'em. She's out there, ain't she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"What's she doin'?" +</P> + +<P> +"She is ironing." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; she takes in. Sabriny has it all to do. I can't do nothin'—this +five year." +</P> + +<P> +"May I come and see you again, Mrs. Rogers? I must go now." +</P> + +<P> +"You may come if you like," was the answer. "I don't know what you +should want to come for." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was afraid her fire of pine sticks would give out; and hurried +across the lane again with her basket of clean things. The stove had +fired up, to be sure; and Mrs. Eldridge was sitting crouched over it, +with an evident sense of enjoyment that went to Matilda's heart. If the +room now were but clean, she thought, and the other room; and the bed +made, and Mrs. Eldridge herself. There was too much to think of; +Matilda gave it up, and attended to the business in hand. The kettle +boiled. She made the tea in the tea-cup; laid a herring on the stove; +spread some bread and butter; and in a few minutes invited Mrs. +Eldridge's attention to her supper spread on a chair. The old woman +drank the tea as if it were the rarest of delicacies; Matilda filled up +her cup again; and then she fell to work on the fish and bread and +butter, tearing them to pieces with her fingers, and in great though +silent appreciation. Meanwhile Matilda brought the cupboard to a little +order; and then filling up Mrs. Eldridge's cup for the third time, +carried back the kettle to Sabrina Rogers and begged the loan of an old +broom. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want to do with it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Eldridge's room wants sweeping very much." +</P> + +<P> +"Likely it does! Who's a going to sweep it, though, if I lend you my +broom?" +</P> + +<P> +"There's nobody but me," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +The woman brought the broom, and, as she gave it, asked, "Who sent you +to do all this?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody." +</P> + +<P> +"What made you come, then? It's queer play for a child like you." +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody must do it, you know," said Matilda; and she ran away. +</P> + +<P> +But Sabrina's words recurred to her. It was queer play. But then, who +would do it? And it was not for Mrs. Eldridge alone. She brushed away +with a good heart, while the poor old woman was hovering over the chair +on which her supper was set, munching bread and herring with a +particularity of attention which shewed how good a good meal was to +her. Matilda did not disturb her, and she said never a word to Matilda; +till, just as the little girl had brought all the sweepings of the +floor to the threshold, where they lay in a heap, and another stroke of +the broom would have scattered them into the street, the space outside +the door was darkened by a figure, the sight of which nearly made the +broom fly out of Matilda's hand. Nobody but Mr. Richmond stood there. +The two faces looked mutual pleasure and surprise at each other. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond!" +</P> + +<P> +"What <I>are</I> you doing here, Tilly?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond, can you step over this muss? I will have it away +directly." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond stepped in, looked at the figure by the stove, and then +back at Matilda. The little girl finished her sweeping and came back, +to receive a warm grasp of the hand from her minister; one of the +things Matilda liked best to get. +</P> + +<P> +"Is all this your work, Tilly," he whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond, nobody has given her a cup of tea in a long while." +</P> + +<P> +The minister stepped softly to the figure still bending over the broken +herring; I think his blue eye had an unusual softness in it. The old +woman pushed her chair back, and looked up at him. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the minister agin," said she. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you glad to see me?" said Mr. Richmond, taking a chair that +Matilda had dusted for him. I am afraid she took off her apron to do it +with, but the occasion was pressing. There was no distinct answer to +the minister's question. +</P> + +<P> +"You seem to have had some supper here," he remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a good cup o' tea," said Mrs. Eldridge;—"a good cup o' tea. I +hain't seen such a good cup o' tea, not since ten year!" +</P> + +<P> +"I am very glad of that. And you feel better for it, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"A good cup o' tea makes one feel like folks," Mrs. Eldridge assented. +</P> + +<P> +"And it is pleasant to think that somebody cares for us," Mr. Richmond +went on. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't think as there warn't nobody," said Mrs. Eldridge, wiping her +lips. +</P> + +<P> +"You see you were mistaken. Here are two people that care for you." +</P> + +<P> +"She cares the most," said Mrs. Eldridge, with a little nod of her +head towards Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"I will not dispute that," said the minister, laughing. "She has cared +fire, and tea, and bread, and fish, hasn't she? and you think I have +only cared to come and see you. Don't you like that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I used fur to have visits," said the poor old woman, "when I had a +nice place and was fixed up respectable. I had visits. Yes, I had. +There don't no one come now. There won't no more on 'em come; no more." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you are mistaken, Mrs. Eldridge. Do you see how much you were +mistaken in thinking that no one cared for you? Do you know there is +more care for you than hers?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know why she cares," said Mrs. Eldridge. +</P> + +<P> +"Who do you think sent her, and told her to care for you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who sent her?" the woman repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, who sent her. Who do you think it was?" +</P> + +<P> +As he got but a lack-lustre look in reply, the minister went on. +</P> + +<P> +"This little girl is the servant of the Lord Jesus Christ; and He sent +her to come and see you, and care for you; and He did that because <I>He</I> +cares. He cares about you. He loves you, and sent His little servant to +be His messenger." +</P> + +<P> +"He didn't send no one afore," the old woman remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, He did," said Mr. Richmond, growing grave, "He sent others, but +they did not come. They did not do what He gave them to do. And now, +Mrs. Eldridge, we bring you a message from the Lord—this little girl +and I do,—that He loves you and wants you to love Him. You know you +never have loved, or trusted, or obeyed Him, in all your life. And now, +the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance." +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't much as a poor old thing like I can do," she said, after a +long pause. +</P> + +<P> +"You can trust the Lord that died for you, and love Him, and thank Him. +You can give yourself to the Lord Jesus to be made pure and good. Can't +you? Then He will fit you for His glorious place up yonder. You must be +fitted for it, you know. Nothing that defileth or is defiled can go in; +only those that havt washed their robes and made them white in the +blood of the Lamb. Listen, now, while I read about that." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond opened his Bible and read first the seventh chapter of the +Revelation, and then the twenty-second; and Matilda, standing and +leaning on the back of his chair, thought how wonderful the words were, +that even so poor an old helpless creature as the one opposite him +might come to have a share in them. Perhaps the wonder and the beauty +of them struck Mrs. Eldridge too, for she listened very silently. And +then Mr. Richmond knelt down and prayed. +</P> + +<P> +After that, he and Matilda together took the way home. +</P> + +<P> +The evening was falling, and soft and sweet the light and the air came +through the trees, and breathed even over Lilac Lane. The minister and +the little girl together drew fresh breaths. It was all so delicious +after the inside of the poor house where they had been. +</P> + +<P> +"Light is a pleasant thing!" said the minister, half to himself. "I +think, Matilda, heaven will seem something so, when we get there." +</P> + +<P> +"Like this evening, Mr. Richmond?" +</P> + +<P> +"Like this evening light and beauty, after coming out of Mrs. +Eldridge's house." +</P> + +<P> +"And then, will this world seem like Mrs. Eldridge's house?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think it will, in the contrast. Look at those dainty little flecks +of cloud yonder, low down in the sky, that seem to have caught the +light in their vaporous drapery and embodied it. See what brilliance of +colour is there, and upon what a pure sky beyond!" +</P> + +<P> +"Will <I>this</I> ever seem like Mrs. Eldridge's house?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"This is the world that God made," said the minister, smiling. "I was +thinking of the world that man has made." +</P> + +<P> +"Lilac Lane, Mr. Richmond?" said Matilda, glancing around her. They +were hardly out of it. +</P> + +<P> +"Lilac Lane is not such a bad specimen," said the minister, with a sigh +this time. "There is much worse than this, Matilda. And the worst of +Lilac Lane is what you do not see. You had to buy your opportunity, +then?" he added, with a smile again, looking down at Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose I had, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you pay?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond, it was not pleasant to think of touching Mrs. Eldridge's +things." +</P> + +<P> +"No. I should think not. But you are not sorry you came? Don't you +find, that as I said, it pays?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, sir! But——" +</P> + +<P> +"But what?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is so much to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" said the minister, thoughtfully. And it seemed to have stopped +his talk. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Mrs. Rogers the other one?" Matilda asked. +</P> + +<P> +"The other one?" repeated Mr. Richmond. +</P> + +<P> +"The other opportunity. You said there were two in Lilac Lane, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know Mrs. Rogers." +</P> + +<P> +"But she is another one that wants the Bible read to her, Mr. Richmond. +She lives just across the way; I found her out by going to borrow a +tea-kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"You borrowed your tea-kettle?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir. Mrs. Eldridge has none. She has almost nothing, and as she +says, there is nobody that cares." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that will not do," said the minister. "We must see about getting +a kettle for her." +</P> + +<P> +"Then, Mr. Richmond, Mrs. Rogers is a <I>third</I> opportunity. She has been +sick a-bed for five years, and there is not a Bible in the house." +</P> + +<P> +"There are opportunities starting up on every side, as soon as we are +ready for them," said the minister. +</P> + +<P> +"But Mr. Richmond—I am afraid,—I am not ready for them." +</P> + +<P> +"Why so, my dear child? I thought you <I>were</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid I was sorry when I found out about Mrs. Rogers." +</P> + +<P> +"Why were you sorry?" +</P> + +<P> +"There seemed so much to do, Mr. Richmond; so much disagreeable work. +Why, it would take every bit of time I have got, and more, to attend to +those two; every bit." +</P> + +<P> +There came a rush of something that for a moment dimmed Mr. Richmond's +blue eyes; for a moment he was silent. And for that moment, too, the +language of gold clouds and sky was a sharp answer—the answer of +Light—to the thoughts of earth. +</P> + +<P> +"It is very natural," Mr. Richmond said. "It is a natural feeling." +</P> + +<P> +"But it is not right, is it?" said Matilda, timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it like Jesus?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Then it cannot be right. 'Who being in the form of God, thought it not +robbery to be equal with God; but made Himself of no reputation, and +took upon Himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness +of men: and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself and +became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.' +</P> + +<P> +"Who 'pleased not Himself.' Who 'had not where to lay His head!' Who, +'though He was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor.' 'He laid down +His life for us, and we ought to lay our lives down for the brethren.'" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda listened, with a choking feeling coming in her throat. +</P> + +<P> +"But then what can I do, Mr. Richmond? how can I help feeling so?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is only one way, dear Matilda," said her friend. "The way is, to +love Jesus so much, that you like His will better than your own; so +much, that you would rather please Him than please yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"How can I get that, Mr. Richmond?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where we get all other good things. Ask the Lord to reveal Himself in +your heart, so that the love of Him may take full possession." +</P> + +<P> +The walk was silent for the greater part of the remaining way—silent +and pleasant. The colours of sunset faded away, but a cool, fair, clear +heaven carried on the beauty and the wordless speech of the earlier +evening. At Matilda's gate Mr. Richmond stopped, and holding her hand +still, spoke with a bright smile. +</P> + +<P> +"I will give you a text to think about and pray over, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"Keep it, and think of it, and pray about it, till you understand it, +and love it." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mr. Richmond. I will." +</P> + +<P> +"The words are these. You will find them in the fourth chapter of the +Second Epistle to the Corinthians." +</P> + +<P> +"In the fourth chapter of the Second Epistle to the Corinthians. Yes, +sir." +</P> + +<P> +"These are the words. 'Always bearing about in the body the dying of +the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in +our body.' Good night." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +Matilda thought so much over Lilac Lane and the words Mr. Richmond had +given her, that Maria charged her with being unsociable. Much Matilda +wished that she could have talked with her sister about those same +words; but Maria was in another line. +</P> + +<P> +"You are getting so wrapped up in yourself," she said, "there is no +comfort in you. I might as well have no sister; and I guess Aunt Candy +means I shan't. She gives you all the good times, up in her room, among +the pretty things; I am only fit for washing dishes. Well, it's her +opinion; it isn't mine." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't have a good time up there, Maria, indeed. I would a great deal +rather be down here washing dishes, or doing anything." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you go there for, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have to go." +</P> + +<P> +"We didn't use to <I>have</I> to do anything, when mamma was living. I +wouldn't do it, if I were you, if I didn't like it." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like it," said Matilda; "but I think I ought to do what Aunt +Candy wishes, as long as it is not something wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"She'll come to that," said Maria; "or it'll be something you will +think wrong; and then we shall have a time! I declare, I believe I +shall be glad!" +</P> + +<P> +"What for, Maria?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why! Then I shall have you again. You'll come on my side. It's lonely +to have the dirty work all to myself. I don't suppose you mind it." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, but I do," said Matilda. "I don't like to sit up-stairs +darning stockings." +</P> + +<P> +"And reading. And I don't know what." +</P> + +<P> +"The reading is worse," said Matilda, sighing. "It is something I do +not understand." +</P> + +<P> +"What does she make you do it for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda, with another sigh. "But I want to do +something else dreadfully, all the time." +</P> + +<P> +The darning was very tedious indeed the morning after this talk. +Matilda had got her head full of schemes and plans that looked +pleasant; and she was eager to turn her visions into reality. It was +stupid to sit in her aunt's room, taking up threads on her long needle +exactly and patiently, row after row. It had to be done exactly, or +Mrs. Candy would have made her pick it all out again. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that is very well; that is neat," said Mrs. Candy, when Matilda +brought her the stocking she had been at work on, with the heel +smoothly run. "That will do. Now you may begin upon another one. There +they are, in that basket." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Aunt Candy," said Matilda, in dismay, "don't you think I have +learned now how to do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, pretty well." +</P> + +<P> +"Then, need I do any more?" +</P> + +<P> +"A little further practice will not hurt you. Practice makes perfect, +you know." +</P> + +<P> +"But do you mean that I must darn all those stockings." +</P> + +<P> +"Aren't they yours?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am; I believe they are." +</P> + +<P> +"Who should darn them, then?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda very sorrowfully remembered the hand which did darn them once +and thought it no hardship. Her hand went swiftly up to her eyes before +she spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +"I think it is right I should do them, and I will. May I take them away +and do them in my own room?" +</P> + +<P> +"You may do exactly what I tell you, my dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Does it make any difference, Aunt Candy?" +</P> + +<P> +"That is something you need not consider. All you have to do is to obey +orders. The more promptly and quietly, the easier for you, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda coloured, bridled, kept down the wish to cry, and began upon +the second heel of her stockings. She was tired of that long needle and +its long needleful of double thread. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda," said her aunt, "put down your stocking and look at me." +</P> + +<P> +Which Matilda did, much surprised. +</P> + +<P> +"When you wish to answer any thing I say, I prefer always that you +should answer me in words." +</P> + +<P> +"Ma'am?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"You heard me." +</P> + +<P> +"But I did not understand you." +</P> + +<P> +"Again!" said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not like to be answered by gestures. Do you understand that?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am; I do not know what you mean by saying it." +</P> + +<P> +"You do not know that you answered me by a toss of your head just now?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am; certainly not." +</P> + +<P> +"I am very glad to hear it. Don't do it again." +</P> + +<P> +It would have been very like Matilda to do it again just there; but +bewilderment quite put down other emotions for the time, except the +sense of being wronged, and that is a feeling very hard to bear. +Matilda had scarcely known it before in her little life; the sensation +was as new as it was painful. She was utterly unconscious of having +done anything that ought to be found fault with. The darning needle +went very fast for the next half-hour; and Matilda's cheek was bright. +</P> + +<P> +"They haven't got a fire up-stairs, have they?" Maria questioned, when +her little sister rejoined her. +</P> + +<P> +"No, not to-day. Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"You look as if you had been somewhere where it was warm." +</P> + +<P> +But Matilda did not say what sort of fire had warmed her. +</P> + +<P> +She forgot all about it, and about all other grievances, as soon as she +was free to go out in the afternoon; for now some of her visions were +to be realised. Yesterday afternoon had been so pleasant, on the whole, +that Matilda determined to seek a renewal of the pleasure. And first +and foremost, she had determined to get Mrs. Eldridge a tea-kettle. She +had money enough yet; only her Bible and yesterday's purchases had come +out of her twenty-five dollars. "A tea-kettle—and what else?" thought +Matilda. "Some towels? She does dreadfully want some towels. But then, +I cannot get everything!" +</P> + +<P> +Slowly going towards the corner, with her eyes on the ground, her two +hands were suddenly seized by somebody, and she was brought to a +stand-still. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton!" cried Matilda, joyously. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. What has become of you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I have been so busy!" +</P> + +<P> +"School?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no! I don't go to school. I have things to do at home." +</P> + +<P> +"Things!" said Norton. "Why don't you speak straight? What things? your +lessons?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't have lessons, Norton," said the child, patiently, lifting her +eyes to Norton's face. "My aunt gives me other things to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you have lessons at all?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Not now. I wish I did." +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you going now, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pink!" echoed Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that's your name. Where are you going? Come home with me." +</P> + +<P> +"I have got business, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't got"—said Norton, peering round—"yes, I declare she +<I>has</I> got—that Bible tucked under her arm! Are you going to see nobody +again?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go too," said Norton, "and find out what it all means. Give me +the book, and I'll carry it." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Norton!" said Matilda, holding the Bible fast, "I would like to +have you, but I am afraid you wouldn't like it." +</P> + +<P> +"Like what, Pink? The Bible?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no. Oh <I>yes</I>, I wish you did like that; but I mean, where I am +going." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you like it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I like to go. I don't like the place, Norton, for the place is very +disagreeable." +</P> + +<P> +"So I should think. But I might like to go too, you know. I'm going to +try." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda stood still and looked very dubious. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going," Norton repeated, laughing. "You want me to go, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I would like it very much, if you would not"—— +</P> + +<P> +"What? No, I will not," said Norton, shaking his head. +</P> + +<P> +"But, Norton, I am going into Mr. Forshew's, first." +</P> + +<P> +"Well; I can go into Mr. Forshew's too. I've been <I>there</I> before." +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to buy a tea-kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not interfere with that," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"But I am going to get a tea-kettle and take it along with me—to Lilac +Lane." +</P> + +<P> +"What for? They'll send it if you want it." +</P> + +<P> +"I want it immediately, and Mr. Forshew's boy is never there when he is +wanted, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>You</I> want the tea-kettle immediately. You are not going to make tea +immediately, are you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly that, Norton. That is one of the things I am going to do. And +the poor old woman I am going to see has no tea-kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I don't believe she has tea." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, but I know she has tea, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"And bread and butter?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and bread and butter too," said Matilda, nodding her little head +positively. Norton looked at her with a perfectly grave face. +</P> + +<P> +"It must be a very odd house," said he, "I don't see how you can be so +sure of things." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda began to walk on towards the corner. +</P> + +<P> +"Who took her tea and bread and butter?" said Norton. "I suppose you +know, if you know the rest." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, somebody must have done it," said Matilda, hesitating. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if there was a Pink anywhere among the things," said Norton. +"Did you see anything of it?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda could not help laughing, and they both laughed; and so they +went into Mr. Forshew's shop. It was a little, low shop, just on the +corner; but, to be sure, there was a great variety, and a good +collection of things there. All sorts of iron things, and a great many +sorts of tin things; with iron dust, and street dust, plentifully +overlying the shop and everything in it. Stoves were there in variety; +chains, and brooms, and coal-skuttles; coffee-mills, and axes, and +lamps; tin pails, and earthen batter jars; screws, and nails, and +hinges, and locks; and a telegraph operator was at work in a corner. +Several customers were there too; Matilda had to wait. +</P> + +<P> +"It is odd now," said Norton. "I suppose, if I wanted to spend money +here, I should buy everything else in the world <I>but</I> a tea-kettle. +That's what it is to be a girl." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense!" said Matilda, and the set of her head was inimitable. +Norton laughed. +</P> + +<P> +"That's what it is to be a Pink," he said. "I forgot. I don't believe +there is another girl in town wants a tea-kettle but you. What else do +you want, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"A great deal," said Matilda; "but I can't get all I want." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't want an axe, for instance; nor a coffee-mill; nor a tin +pail, nor an iron chain, nor a dipper; nor screws, nor tacks; nor a +lamp, do you? nor a box of matches"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, Norton! Oh yes, that is just what I do want; a box of matches. +I never should have thought of it." +</P> + +<P> +"How about stoves, Pink? Here are plenty." +</P> + +<P> +"She has a stove. Don't be ridiculous, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +And Mr. Forshew being just then at leisure, Matilda purchased a little +tin tea-kettle, and came out with it in triumph. +</P> + +<P> +"Now is that all?" said Norton. "How about the bread and butter? +Perhaps it has given out." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I think not. I guess there is enough. Perhaps we had better take +another loaf of bread, though. We shall pass the baker's on our way." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got money enough for every thing you want, Pink? does your +aunt give you whatever you ask for?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I never ask her for anything," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Take it without asking?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not ask, and she does not give me, Norton. But once she did, when +she first came; she gave me, each of us, twenty-five dollars. I have +got that, all that is left of it." +</P> + +<P> +"How much is left of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I don't know exactly. I spent four dollars for something else; +then eighty-five cents yesterday; and a dollar just, to-day. That +makes"—— +</P> + +<P> +"Five eighty-five," said Norton. "And that out of twenty-five, leaves +nineteen fifteen." +</P> + +<P> +"I've got that, then," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"And no hope of more? That won't do, Pink. Nineteen dollars won't last +for ever at this rate. Here's the baker's." +</P> + +<P> +The bread Norton paid for and carried off, and the two stepped along +briskly to Lilac Lane. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was very glad privately that she had swept Mrs. Eldridge's +floor yesterday. The place looked so much the more decent; though as it +was, Norton cast his eyes around him whistling low, and Matilda knew +well enough that he regarded it as a very odd place for either himself +or Pink to find themselves in. +</P> + +<P> +"What's to be done now?" he inquired of her, as she was putting the +bread and matches on a shelf of the cupboard. +</P> + +<P> +"The first thing is to make a fire, Norton. I've got wood enough here. +And the matches." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>You</I> have got," said Norton, stooping to fetch out the sticks from +the lower cupboard where Matilda had stowed them. "Did you get it? +Where did you get it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Swain split it up for me,—at the iron shop, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you go to the iron shop for it? And bring it back yourself?" +</P> + +<P> +"There was nobody else to do it," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a brick!" said Norton. "That's what I said. But is this all, +Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is plenty, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Plenty for to-day. It won't last for any more. What then?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda. "O Norton, are <I>you</I> going to make the +fire?" +</P> + +<P> +Norton showed that such was his intention, and showed besides that he +knew very well what he was about. Matilda, after looking on admiringly, +ran off to the pump with her kettle. The pump was at some distance; +before she could fill her kettle and come back, Norton overtook her. He +quietly assumed the tea-kettle, as a matter of course. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, thank you, Norton! how good you are," Matilda exclaimed. "It was +heavy." +</P> + +<P> +"Look here. Do you come here to do this sort of thing all by yourself?" +said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot help that," said Matilda. "And I like to do it, too." +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Who will, then, Norton? And the poor old woman cannot do anything for +herself." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't there somebody in the world to take care of her?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; nobody." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a shame. And I don't believe it, either." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but there is nobody, Norton. She is quite alone. And if some one +will not help her, she must go without everything." +</P> + +<P> +Norton said no more, but he looked very much disgusted with this state +of society. He silently watched what Matilda was doing, without putting +in any hinderance or hinting at any annoyance further, which, she +thought, was very good of him. Instead of that, he looked after the +fire, and lifted the kettle when it was needful. Matilda, as yesterday, +made the tea, and spread bread and butter, and cooked a herring; and +then had the satisfaction of seeing the poor old woman luxuriating over +what was to her a delicious meal. She had said very little since their +coming in, but eyed all they did, with a gradual relaxing of the lines +of her face. Something like pleasure, something like comfort, was +stealing into her heart, and working to soften those hard lines. +Matilda waited now until the meal should be quite finished before she +brought forward anything of different interest. +</P> + +<P> +"That's a new kettle," was the first remark, made while Matilda was +clearing away the remains of the supper. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you like it?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +The old woman looked at him, she had done that a great deal already, +and answered, "Who be you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm the fellow that brought the kettle from the shop," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Whose kettle is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"It ought to be your's—it's on your stove." +</P> + +<P> +"It is your's, Mrs. Eldridge," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I hain't had a tea-kettle," said the old woman, meditatively, +"since—I declare, I don't know when 'twas. I hain't had a tea-kettle, +not since my old un fell down the well. I never could get it out. That +one hadn't no kiver." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't let this one get down in the well," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"I shan't go to the well no more," said Mrs. Eldridge. "When I had a +place, and a well, and a bucket, it was good times! That ain't my +kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mrs. Eldridge, it is," said Matilda. "It is your's; and it just +fits the stove hole." +</P> + +<P> +"A kettle's a good thing," said the old woman. "It looks good." +</P> + +<P> +"Now would you like to have a little reading again?" Matilda inquired, +bringing out her Bible. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got anything more about the—what was it? I don' know what +'twas." +</P> + +<P> +"About the shepherd? the Good Shepherd?" +</P> + +<P> +"You may read a bit about that," said the old woman. "There ain't no +shepherds now, is there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Plenty of 'em," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"It don't seem as if there was no place for 'em to keep the sheep. <I>I</I> +don't see none. But he used for to be a shepherd; and he took good care +of 'em, he did." +</P> + +<P> +"The Lord Jesus is the Good Shepherd; and He takes good care of His +sheep," said Matilda. "He cares for them always. He cares for you, Mrs. +Eldridge." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman made no answer to this; but instead, sat with so +meditative a look upon her face that Matilda, though she had her book +open to read, forbore, and waited. +</P> + +<P> +"Did He send you?" said Mrs. Eldridge. +</P> + +<P> +Norton glanced a quick look of amusement at Matilda, but Matilda simply +answered. "Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know as there was any one as cared," she said, slowly. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda began to read, upon that; giving her the twenty-third psalm +again; then the tenth chapter of John; finishing with one or two +passages in the Revelation. Norton stood in the doorway while she read, +looking out and looking in, very quiet; and Mrs. Eldridge sat and +listened and gave tremulous shakes of her old head, and was very quiet +too. +</P> + +<P> +"I must go now," said Matilda, when she had done and had paused a few +minutes. +</P> + +<P> +"It has a good sound," said the old woman. +</P> + +<P> +"It's true," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +And she and Norton took their leave. Then began a joyous walk home. +</P> + +<P> +"Pink," said Norton, when they were got a little way from the house, +"you made your tea in a tea-cup." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; there is only a wretched little tin tea-pot there, not fit to be +used; it is in such a state." +</P> + +<P> +"No spoons either?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, and no spoons. There is hardly anything there at all, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see how people come to be so poor," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"No, <I>I</I> don't," said Matilda. "But she is old, you see, and cannot +help herself, and has no one left that does care about her. Nobody in +the world, I mean." +</P> + +<P> +"That house is in a tremendous condition," said Norton. "For dirt I +mean." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know it." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see why somebody hasn't cleaned it before now." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Norton, who should do it? None of the neighbours care anything +about her." +</P> + +<P> +"Is she bad?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Norton, not bad at all; but they are poor too, and ill, some of +them, and they have their own work to do, and their own things to get, +and they haven't anything to spare for her." +</P> + +<P> +"She was glad of that tea-kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"Wasn't she! I could see that." +</P> + +<P> +"But I say, Pink! I don't see how people come to be so poor. There's +money enough." +</P> + +<P> +"For some people," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Money enough for everybody." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps, if it was divided," said Matilda. "But, Norton, it isn't. The +rich people have got it almost all." +</P> + +<P> +"Have they?" said Norton. "Then they ought to look out for such poor +chaps as this." +</P> + +<P> +"So I think, Norton," said Matilda, eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"But, Pink, <I>you</I> can't do it. You are only one, and you can't take +care of all Lilac Lane, to begin with. That's what I am thinking about." +</P> + +<P> +"No, not all the lane. But I can do something. I can read to Mrs. +Eldridge, and Mrs. Rogers." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't buy tea-kettles, though, for Mrs. Eldridge and Mrs. Rogers, +with the tea, and the sugar, and the bread and butter, and the fish, +and the mutton-chops they will all want. Your nineteen dollars will +soon be gone at that rate." +</P> + +<P> +"Mutton-chops!" echoed Matilda. "Norton, they do not see anything so +good as mutton-chops." +</P> + +<P> +"They ought to," said Norton. "They have as much right as other folks." +</P> + +<P> +"But they <I>can't</I>, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, they can, Pink. We'll take 'em some for once. They shall know how +mutton tastes." +</P> + +<P> +"O Norton!" said Matilda in a low voice of delight, "how good that +would be!" +</P> + +<P> +"But what I <I>say</I>," continued the boy, with emphasis,—"you cannot go +on doing this. Your money will not last." +</P> + +<P> +"I can do what I can," said Matilda, softly. +</P> + +<P> +"But what's the use, Pink? All you can do will just touch one old +woman, perhaps, a few times; and then Lilac Lane will not be any better +off than it was. And anyhow, you only touch one. What's the use?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why—the use of that one." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but it don't really make any difference to speak of, when you +think of all the people that you cannot help. The world won't be any +better; don't you see?" +</P> + +<P> +"If I was the one to be helped, I should think it made a great deal of +difference, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +Norton could not dispute that view of the case, though he whistled over +it. +</P> + +<P> +"Pink, will you come and play croquet to-morrow?" +</P> + +<P> +"To-morrow? I will see if I can," said Matilda, with a brightening face. +</P> + +<P> +"What's to hinder you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know that anything. If Aunt Candy will let me." +</P> + +<P> +"Does <I>she</I> hinder you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sometimes," Matilda said, hesitating. +</P> + +<P> +"What for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know. That puzzles me, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>How</I> does she hinder you?" said the boy, stopping short with a scowl +upon his brow. +</P> + +<P> +"She won't let me go out, sometimes; I don't know why. Then besides, I +have to spend a good deal of time reading to her, and darning +stockings; and I have a great many other things to do, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, come to-morrow, Pink; or I shall come after you. Hulloa! see +that squirrel"—— +</P> + +<P> +And Norton set off on such a race and chase after the squirrel, that +Matilda stopped to look on in sheer admiration. The race was not +fruitful of anything, however, but admiration, and the rest of the way +they hurried home. +</P> + +<P> +It was a trembling question with Matilda, could she go to play croquet +the next day? She could not go in her work dress; and she feared to +change her dress and so draw attention, lest her aunt should put a stop +to her going out at all. She debated the matter a good deal, and +finally concluded to make an open affair of it and ask leave. +</P> + +<P> +"To go to Mrs. Laval's," said Mrs. Candy, meditating. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is going to play croquet, besides you?" inquired Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"I do not think anybody is to be there besides me," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Mrs. Candy, "I suppose you had better go, with my +compliments and thanks to Mrs. Laval. Put on your white dress, Matilda, +and I will tie a ribband round your waist." +</P> + +<P> +The white dress and the black ribband were duly put on, and Matilda set +out, very happy indeed, only sorry that Maria was left behind. She got +a glad welcome from Norton, who was at the iron gate watching for her. +And when she came to the door of the house, Matilda was fain to stand +still and look, everything was so beautiful. It was very different from +last winter, when the snow covered all the world. Now the grass was +soft and green, cut short and rolled smooth, and the sunlight made it +seem almost golden. The rose-bushes were heavy and sweet with great +cabbage roses and delicate white roses, and gay yellow roses made an +elegant variety. Overhead, the golden clusters of a laburnum tree +dropped as if to meet them. Then there were pinks, and violets, and +daisies; and locust trees a little way off, standing between the house +and the sun, made the air sweet with their blossoms. Every breath was +charged with some delicious perfume or other. The house stood +hospitably and gaily open in summer dress; the farm country lay rich in +the sun towards the west; and the mountains beyond, having lost all +their white coating of snow long ago, were clothed in a kind of drapery +of purple mist. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"It's so beautiful!" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, is that all! Come in. Mamma wants to see you." +</P> + +<P> +In the house, over floors marble and matted, through rooms green with +the light that came through the blinds, cool in shadow, but from which +the world without looked like a glittering fairyland, so they went +passing from one to another, till they found the mistress of the house. +She was not in the house, but in a deep wicker chair on the shady side +of the verandah. +</P> + +<P> +"Here she is!" the lady exclaimed as she saw them, throwing aside the +book which had been in her hands, and drawing Matilda into her arms +instead. "My dear child—so you've come. Norton and I are very glad. +How do you do? You are thin." +</P> + +<P> +"Am I?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid you are. What are you going to do? play croquet? it's too +warm yet. Sit down here and have some strawberries first. Norton, you +get her some strawberries." +</P> + +<P> +She put Matilda affectionately into a chair and took off her hat. +</P> + +<P> +"And how do you like croquet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, very much! But I do not know how to play yet," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton will teach you." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am," Matilda said, with a happy look. +</P> + +<P> +"I think Norton is making a little sister of you," Mrs. Laval said +tenderly, drawing her hand down Matilda's cheek. "Do you know, Norton +once had a little sister as old as you?" +</P> + +<P> +The lady's tone had changed. Matilda only looked, she dared not speak +in answer to this. +</P> + +<P> +"I think he wants to make a sister of you," Mrs. Laval repeated +wistfully, her hand dropping to Matilda's hand and taking hold of that. +"How would you like to be Norton's sister?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I should like it very much!" Matilda answered, half eagerly, but +her answer touched with a soberness that belonged to the little sister +and daughter that Norton and Mrs. Laval had lost. There was a delicate, +sensitive manner about both her face and her voice as she spoke, +perfectly intelligible to the eyes that were watching her; and the +response to it was startling, for Mrs. Laval suddenly took the child in +her arms, upon her lap, though Matilda never knew how she got there, +and clasping her close, half smothered her with kisses, some of which +Matilda felt were wetted with tears. It was a passion of remembered +tenderness and unsatisfied longing. Matilda was astonished and passive +under caresses she could not return, so close was the clasp of the arms +that held her, so earnest the pressure of the lips that seemed to +devour every part of her face by turns. In the midst of this, Norton +came with the strawberries, and he too stood still and offered no +interruption. But when a pause in Mrs. Laval's ecstasy gave him a +chance, he said low,— +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Beechy, mamma, and Miss Beechys, are there." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Laval was quiet a moment, hiding her face in Matilda's neck; then +she put her gently down, rose up, and met some ladies who were coming +round the corner of the verandah, with a tone and bearing so cool, and +careless, and light, that Matilda asked her ears if it was possible. +The guests were carried off into the house; Matilda and Norton were +left alone. +</P> + +<P> +It was Matilda's turn then. She set down the plate of strawberries +Norton had given her, and hid her face in her hands. +</P> + +<P> +Norton bore this for a minute, and no more. Then one of his hands came +upon one of Matilda's, and the other upon the other, very gently but +decidedly suggesting that they should come down. +</P> + +<P> +"Pink!" said he, "this may do for mamma and you, but it is very poor +entertainment for me. Come! leave that, and eat your strawberries, and +let us go on the lawn. The sun will do now." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda felt that this was reasonable, and she put by her own +gratification. Nevertheless her eyes and eyelashes were all glittering +when she lifted them up. +</P> + +<P> +"What has mamma done to you?" said Norton, wondering. "Here, Pink, do +you like strawberries?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you please, Norton," said Matilda, "couldn't I have them another +time? I don't want them now." +</P> + +<P> +"Then they may wait till we have done playing," said Norton; "and then +I'll have some too. Now come." +</P> + +<P> +The great trees cast a flickering shadow on the grass before the house. +Norton planted his hoops and distributed colours, and presently +Matilda's sober thoughts were driven as many ways as the balls; and +<I>they</I> went very widely indeed. +</P> + +<P> +"You must take <I>aim</I>, Matilda?" Norton cried. +</P> + +<P> +"At what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you must learn at what; that's the game. You must fight; just as +I fight you. You ought to touch my ball now, if you can. I don't +believe you can. You might try." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda tried, and hit it. The game went on prosperously. The sun got +lower, and the sunbeams came more scattering, and the breeze just +stirred over the lawn, not enough to bend the little short blades of +grass. Mrs. Laval's visitors went away, and she came out on the +verandah to look at the children; they were too much engaged to look at +her. At last the hard-fought battle came to an end. Norton brought out +another plate of strawberries for himself along with Matilda's, and the +two sat down on the bank under the locust trees to eat them. The sun +was near going down beyond the mountains by this time, and his setting +rays changed the purple mist into a bath of golden haze. +</P> + +<P> +"How nice and cold these are," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"They have been in the ice. That makes things cold," observed Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"And being warm one's self makes them seem colder," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, are you warm, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, indeed. I have had to fight you so hard, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"You did very well," said Norton, in a satisfied tone. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton, how pretty it all is to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Norton ate strawberries. +</P> + +<P> +"Very different from Lilac Lane," said Matilda, looking at the china +plate in her hand, on which the painting was very fine and delicate. +</P> + +<P> +"Rather different," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton,—I was thinking of what you said yesterday; how odd it is that +some people should be rich and others poor." +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad I am one of the first sort," said Norton, disposing of a +very large strawberry. +</P> + +<P> +"But isn't it strange?" +</P> + +<P> +"That is what I said, Pink." +</P> + +<P> +"It don't seem right," said Matilda, thoughtfully +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it does." +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't to me." +</P> + +<P> +"How can you help it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why <I>I</I> cannot help it, Norton; but if everybody that is rich chose, +they could help it." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think they ought?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well how, Pink? If people were industrious and behaved right, they +wouldn't be poor, you see." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but, Norton, they would sometimes. There is Mrs. Eldridge, and +there are the poor women at Mrs. Rogers', and a great many more like +them." +</P> + +<P> +"Well if <I>somebody</I> hadn't behaved wrong," said Norton, "they wouldn't +be so hard up." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but that does not help them." +</P> + +<P> +"Not much." +</P> + +<P> +"And they ought to be helped," said Matilda, slowly examining the +painted flowers on the china in her hand, and remembering Mrs. +Eldridge's cracked delf tea-cup. +</P> + +<P> +"That plate would buy up the whole concern where we were yesterday, +wouldn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda looked up suddenly, at Norton's thus touching her thought; but +she did not like to pursue it. Norton, however, had no scruples. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; and these strawberries, I suppose, would feed her for a week—the +old woman, I mean. And one of our drawing-room chairs would furnish her +house, pretty near. Yes, I guess it would. And I really think one week +of the coal we burned a few months ago would keep her, and Mrs. Rogers +too, warm all winter. And I am certain one of mamma's dresses would +clothe her for a year. Seems queer, don't it." +</P> + +<P> +"And she is cold, and hungry, and uncomfortable," said Matilda. The two +looked at each other. +</P> + +<P> +"But then, you know, if mamma gave one of her dresses to clothe this +old woman, she would have to give another to clothe some other old +woman; and the end would be, she would have no dresses for herself. And +if she tried to warm all the cold houses, she wouldn't have firing to +cook her own dinner. You see it has to be so, Pink; some rich and some +poor. And suppose these strawberries had been changed into some poor +somebody's dinner, I couldn't have had them to give to you. Do you see, +Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"But, O Norton!" Matilda began, and stopped. "These strawberries are +very nice." +</P> + +<P> +"But you would rather turn them into mutton-chops and give them away?" +said Norton. "I dare say you would! Wouldn't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Norton," said Matilda, cautiously, "do you think anything I <I>could</I> +have bought with that dollar would have given me so much pleasure as +that tea-kettle yesterday?" +</P> + +<P> +"It was a good investment," said Norton. "But it is right to eat +strawberries, Pink. Where are you going to stop?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take Mrs. Eldridge some strawberries," said Matilda, smiling, +"when they get plenty." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, agreed," said Norton. "Let us take her some other things too. +I've got money. Stop—let me put these plates in the house and fetch a +piece of paper;—then we'll see what we'll take her." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda sat while he was gone, looking at the golden mist on the +mountains and dreaming. +</P> + +<P> +"Now," said Norton, throwing himself on the turf beside her, with his +piece of paper, and thrusting his hand deep down in his pocket to get +at his pencil, "Now, let us see what we will do." +</P> + +<P> +"Norton," said Matilda, joyously, "this is better than croquet." +</P> + +<P> +Norton looked up with those bright eyes of his, but his reply was to +proceed to business. +</P> + +<P> +"Now for it, Pink. What shall we do for the old lady? What does she +want? Pooh! she wants everything; but what to begin with?" +</P> + +<P> +"Strawberries, you said." +</P> + +<P> +"Strawberries! Not at all. That's the last thing. I mean we'll fix her +up, Pink. Now what does she want to be comfortable. It is only one old +woman; but we shall feel better if she is comfortable. Or you will." +</P> + +<P> +"But what do you mean, Norton? how much can we do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just as much as we've a mind to. I've got money, I tell you. Come; +begin. What goes down first?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Norton," said Matilda, in an ecstasy, "it is like a fairy story." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" +</P> + +<P> +"This, that we are doing. It is like a fairy story exactly." +</P> + +<P> +"How is it like fairy stories?" said Norton. "<I>I</I> don't know." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you never read fairy stories?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never. What are they like?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why some of them are just like this," said Matilda. "People are rich, +and can do what they please; and they set out to get things together +for a feast, or to prepare a palace for some princess; and first one +nice thing is got, and then another, and then some thing else; until by +and by you feel as if you had been at the feast, or seen the palace, or +had done the shopping. I do." +</P> + +<P> +"This isn't for a princess," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"No, nor a palace," said Matilda; "but it seems just as good." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on, Pink; let us quit princesses and get to the real business. What +do you want to get, first thing?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>First</I> thing," said Matilda, "I think would be to get somebody to +clean the house. There are only two little rooms. It wouldn't be much. +Don't you think so, Norton?" +</P> + +<P> +"As we cannot build a palace, and have it new, I should say the old one +had better be cleaned." +</P> + +<P> +"Sabrina Rogers would do it, I dare say," Matilda went on; "and maybe +that would be something good for her." +</P> + +<P> +"Teach her to clean her own?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Why no, Norton; her own is clean. I meant, maybe she would be glad of +the pay." +</P> + +<P> +"There's another princess, eh, that wants a palace?" said Norton. "If +we could, we would new build Lilac Lane, wouldn't we? But then, I +should want to make over the people that live in it." +</P> + +<P> +"So should I, and that is the hardest. But perhaps, don't you think the +people <I>would</I> be different, if they had things different?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm certain I should be different, if I lived where they do," said +Norton. "But go on, Pink; let us try it on—what's her name. We have +only cleaned her house yet." +</P> + +<P> +"The first thing, then, is a bedstead, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"A bedstead! What does she sleep on?" +</P> + +<P> +"On the floor; with rags and straw, and I think a miserable +make-believe of a bed. No sheets, no blankets, nor anything. It is +dreadful." +</P> + +<P> +"Rags and straw," said Norton. "Then a bedstead wants a bed on it, +Pink; and blankets or coverlets or something, and sheets, and all that." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda watched Norton's pencil as it noted the articles. +</P> + +<P> +"Then she wants some towels, and a basin of some sort to wash in." +</P> + +<P> +"H'm!" said Norton. "Herself, I hope?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I hope so. But she has nothing to make herself clean with." +</P> + +<P> +"Then a stand, and basin, and towels; and a pitcher, Pink, I suppose, +to hold water." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, a pitcher, or jug, or something. We want to get the cheapest +things we can. And soap." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's have plenty of that," said Norton, putting down soap. "Now +then—what next?" +</P> + +<P> +"A little wooden table, Norton; she has nothing but a chair to set her +tea on." +</P> + +<P> +"A table. And a carpet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, Norton; that's not necessary. It is warm weather now. She does +not want that. But she <I>does</I> want a pail for water. I have to take the +tea-kettle to the pump." +</P> + +<P> +Norton at this laughed, and rolled over on the grass in his amusement. +Having thus refreshed himself, he came back to business. +</P> + +<P> +"Has she got anything to go on her fire, except a tea-kettle?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not much. A saucepan would be a very useful thing, and not cost much. +I bought one the other day; so I know." +</P> + +<P> +"What's a saucepan?" said Norton. "A pan to make sauce in?" +</P> + +<P> +It was Matilda's turn to laugh. "Poor Mrs. Eldridge don't have many +puddings, I guess, to make sauce for," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Pink, now we come, don't we, to the eating line. We must stock +her up." +</P> + +<P> +"Put down a broom first, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"A broom! here goes." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you can't think how much I have wanted a broom there. And a +tea-pot. Oh yes, and a little milk pitcher, and sugar bowl. Can't we?" +</P> + +<P> +"I should think we could," said Norton. "Tea-cups?" +</P> + +<P> +"I guess not. She's got two; and three plates. Now, Norton—the +eatables. What did you think of?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose there isn't anything in the house," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing at all, except what we took there." +</P> + +<P> +"Then she wants everything." +</P> + +<P> +"But you see, Norton, she can't do any thing herself; she couldn't use +some things. There would be no use——" +</P> + +<P> +"No use in what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Flour, for instance. She couldn't make bread." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know anything about flour," said Norton. "But she can use +bread when she sees it, I will take my affidavit." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, bread, Norton. We will take her some bread, and a little +butter; and sugar; and tea. She has got some, but it won't last long." +</P> + +<P> +"And I said she should have a mutton-chop." +</P> + +<P> +"I dare say she would like it." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder if a bushel of potatoes wouldn't be the best thing of all." +</P> + +<P> +"Potatoes would be excellent," said Matilda, delightedly. "I suppose +she would be very glad of anything of that sort. Let's take her some +cheese, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Cheese. And strawberries. And cake, Pink." +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid we should be taking too much at once. We had better leave +the cake to another time." +</P> + +<P> +"There's something we forgot," said Norton. "Mr. What's-his-name will +not split up box covers for your fire every day; we must send in a load +of firing. Wood, I guess." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, how good!" said Matilda. "You see, Norton, she has had no wood to +make a fire even to boil her kettle." +</P> + +<P> +"And no kettle to boil," added Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"So that she went without even tea. I don't know how she lived. Did you +see how she enjoyed the tea yesterday?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pink," said Norton, "do you expect to go there to make her fire every +day?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Norton, I cannot every day; I cannot always get away from home. +But I was thinking—I know some other girls that I guess would help; +and if there were several of us, you know, it would be very easy." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Norton, "we have fixed up this palace and princess now. +What do you think of getting the princess a new dress or two?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it would be very nice, Norton. She wants it." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma will do that. Could <I>you</I> get it, Pink? would you know how? +supposing your purse was long enough." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, Norton. Of course I could!" +</P> + +<P> +"Then you shall do it. Who will see to all the rest?" +</P> + +<P> +"To buy the things, do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"To buy them, and to choose them, and to get them to their place, and +all that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you and I, Norton. Shan't we?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think that is a good arrangement. The next question is, when? When +shall we send the things there?" +</P> + +<P> +"We must get the rooms cleaned. I will see about that. Then, Norton, +the sooner the better; don't you think so?" +</P> + +<P> +"How is it in the fairy stories?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's all done with a breath there; that is one of the delightful +things about it. You speak, and the genie comes; and you tell him what +you want, and he goes and fetches it; there is no waiting. And yet, I +don't know," Matilda added; "I don't wish this could be done in a +breath." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said a voice close behind her. The two looked up, laughing, to +see Mrs. Laval. She was laughing too. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, that is not to be done in a breath?" +</P> + +<P> +"Furnishing a palace, mamma—(getting it cleaned first,) and setting up +a princess." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Laval wanted to hear about it, and gradually she slipped down on +the grass beside Matilda, and drew an arm round her, while she listened +to Norton's story. Norton made quite a story of it, and told his mother +what Matilda had been doing the day before in Lilac Lane, and what +schemes they had presently on hand. Mrs. Laval listened curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear, is it quite safe for you to go to such a place?" she asked +Matilda then. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"But it cannot be pleasant." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, ma'am!" Matilda answered, more earnestly. +</P> + +<P> +"How can it be?" +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it would not be pleasant, at first," said Matilda; "but I +found it was." +</P> + +<P> +"What made it pleasant, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you saw the poor old woman, Mrs. Laval, and how much she wanted +comfort, I think you would understand it." +</P> + +<P> +"Would you come and see <I>me</I>, if I wanted comfort?" the lady inquired. +Matilda smiled at the possibility. Then something in Mrs. Laval's face +reminded her that even with such a beautiful house and so rich +abundance of things that money can buy, there might be a sad want of +something that money cannot buy; and she grew grave again. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you?" Mrs. Laval repeated. +</P> + +<P> +And Matilda said "Yes." And Mrs. Laval again put her face down to +Matilda's face and pressed her lips upon hers, again and again, as if +she drew some sweetness from them. Not so passionately as the time +before; yet with quiet earnestness. Then with one hand she stroked the +hair from Matilda's forehead, and drew it forward, and passed her +fingers through it, caressing it in a tender, thoughtful way. Norton +knelt on the grass beside them and looked on, watching and satisfied. +Matilda was happy and passive. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got money enough, love, for all you want to do?" Mrs. Laval +asked at length. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>I</I> haven't much," said Matilda; "but Norton is going to help." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got enough, Norton?" +</P> + +<P> +"I guess so, mamma." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Laval put her hand in her pocket and drew out a little morocco +pocket-book. She put it in Matilda's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton shall not do it all," she said. "I don't know exactly how much +is in this; you can use what you choose on this fairy palace you and +Norton are building." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, ma'am!" Matilda began, flushing and delighted. Mrs. Laval stopped +her mouth with a kiss. +</P> + +<P> +"But, ma'am, won't you please take out what you wish I should spend for +Mrs. Eldridge." +</P> + +<P> +"Spend just what you like." +</P> + +<P> +"I might take too much," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"It is all your's. Do just what you like with it. Spend what you like +in Lilac Lane, and the rest for something else." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, ma'am!"—Matilda began again in utter bewildered delight. +</P> + +<P> +"No, darling, don't say anything about it," Mrs. Laval answered, +finding Matilda's pocket and slipping the pocket-book in. "You shall +talk to me about it another time. I wish you could give me your secret." +</P> + +<P> +"What secret, ma'am?" said Matilda, who for the very delight that +flushed her could hardly speak. +</P> + +<P> +"How to get so much satisfaction out of a little money." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda wished she could give Mrs. Laval anything that would do her a +pleasure, and she began to think, <I>could</I> she let her into this secret? +It seemed a simple secret enough to Matilda; but she had a certain +consciousness that for the great lady it might be more difficult to +understand than it was for her. Was it possible that elegant +pocket-book was in <I>her</I> pocket? +</P> + +<P> +But now came the summons to tea, and they got up off the grass and went +in. So beautiful a table Matilda had never seen, and more thorough +petting no little girl ever had. No one else was there but those three, +so she was quite at home. Such a pleasant home it was, too. The windows +all open, of the large, airy, pretty dining-room; the blue mountains +seen through the windows at one side; from the others, the green of the +trees and the gay colours of flowers; the evening air drew gently +through the room, and flowers and fruit and all sorts of delicacies and +all sorts of elegances on the table made Matilda feel she was in +fairyland. +</P> + +<P> +"When are you coming again?" said Mrs. Laval, taking her in her arms +when she was about going. +</P> + +<P> +"Whenever you will let me, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"Could you learn to love me a little bit, some day?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda did not know how to answer. She looked into the handsome dark +eyes that were watching her, and with the thought of the secret +sympathy between the lady and herself, her own watered. +</P> + +<P> +"I see you will," said Mrs. Laval, kissing her. "Now kiss me." +</P> + +<P> +She sat quite still while Matilda did so; then returned it warmly, and +bade Norton take care of her home. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<P> +Matilda found her aunt, cousin, and sister gathered in the parlour. +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" said Maria. "I suppose you have had a time." +</P> + +<P> +"A good time?" Mrs. Candy asked. Matilda replied "Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"You stayed late," observed Clarissa. This did not seem to need an +answer. +</P> + +<P> +"What have you been doing?" Maria asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Playing." +</P> + +<P> +"You sigh over it, as if there were some melancholy associations +connected with the fact," said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +So there were, taken with the contrast at home. Matilda could not +explain that. +</P> + +<P> +"Any company there?" inquired Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"You are wonderfully taciturn," said Clarissa. "Do tell us what you +have been about, and whether you have enjoyed yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"I enjoyed myself," said Matilda, repressing another sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you bring any message for me?" asked her aunt. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you deliver mine to Mrs. Laval?" +</P> + +<P> +"What, ma'am?" +</P> + +<P> +"My message. Did you deliver it?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you forget it, Matilda?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did not forget it." +</P> + +<P> +Both mother and daughter lifted up their heads at this. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you not give the message, then?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was in sore difficulty. There was nothing she could think of to +say. So she said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak, child!" said her aunt. "Why did you not give my message as I +charged you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did not like to do it, Aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"You did not like to do it! Please to say why you did not like to do +it." +</P> + +<P> +It was so impossible to answer, that Matilda took refuge in silence +again. +</P> + +<P> +"It would have been civil in Mrs. Laval to have sent her message, +whether or no," said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"Go up-stairs, Matilda," said her aunt; "and don't come down again +to-night. No, Maria," for Maria rose, muttering that she would go too, +"no, you do <I>not</I> go now. Sit down, till the usual time. Go to bed, +Matilda. I will talk to you to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +It was no punishment, the being sent off; though her aunt's words and +manner were. In all her little life, till now, Matilda had never known +any but gentle and tender treatment. She had not been a child to +require other; and though a more decided government might have been +good, perhaps, the soft and easy affection in the midst of which she +had grown up was far better for her than harshness, which indeed she +never deserved. As she went up the stairs to-night, she felt like a +person suddenly removed, in the space of an hour, from the atmosphere +of some balmy, tropical clime, to the sharp rigours of the north pole. +She shivered, mentally. +</P> + +<P> +But the effect of the tropics returned when she had closed the door of +her room. The treasures of comfort and pleasure stored up that +afternoon were not lost; and being a secret treasure, they were not +within anybody's power. Matilda kneeled down and gave thanks for it +all; then took out her pocket-book and admired it; she would not count +the money this evening, the outside was quite enough. She stowed it +away in a safe place, and slowly undressed; her heart so full of +pleasant things enjoyed and other pleasant things hoped for, that she +soon utterly forgot Mrs. Candy, message and all. Sweet visions of what +was to be done in Lilac Lane rose before her eyes; what might <I>not</I> be +done, between Norton and her, now? and with these came in other +visions—of those kisses of Mrs. Laval, which had been such mother's +kisses. Matilda stood still to remember and feel them over again. +Nobody had ever kissed her so, but her mother. And so, in a little warm +heart-glow of her own which enveloped everything, like the golden haze +on the mountains that evening, Matilda undressed leisurely, and read +her Bible, and prayed, and went to sleep. And her waking mood was like +the morning light upon the mountains, so clear and quiet. +</P> + +<P> +Maria, however, was in complete contrast. This was not very unusual. +She was crusty, and ironical, and disposed to find fault. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder how long this is going to last?" she said, in the interval +between complaining and fault-finding. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" Matilda asked. +</P> + +<P> +"This state of things. Not going to school, nor learning anything; +cooking and scrubbing for Aunt Candy; and you petted and taken +up-stairs to be taught, and asked out to tea, and made much of. Nobody +remembers that I am alive." +</P> + +<P> +"Dear Maria, I have been asked out to tea just once." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll be asked again." +</P> + +<P> +"And I am sure people come to see you. Frances Barth was here +yesterday; and Sarah Haight and Esther Trembleton two days ago; and +Esther asked you to tea too." +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't go." +</P> + +<P> +"But people remember you are alive. O Maria, they remember you too. Mr. +Richmond don't forget you; and Miss Benton asked you to come to tea +with her." +</P> + +<P> +"It is all very well talking," said Maria. "I know what I know; and I +am getting tired of it. You are the only one that has any really good +times." +</P> + +<P> +It soon appeared that one of Matilda's good times was not to be to-day. +Mrs. Candy and Clarissa looked on her coldly, spoke to her dryly, and +made her feel that she was not in favour. Matilda could bear this +down-stairs pretty well; but when she found her self in Mrs. Candy's +room for her morning hours of reading and darning, it became heavy. +Reading was not the first thing to-day. Mrs. Candy called Matilda to +stand before her, while she proceeded to give her a species of +correction in words. +</P> + +<P> +"You were baptized a few weeks ago, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"And by so being, you became a member of the Church;—of your church." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think are the duties of a member of the Church?" +</P> + +<P> +A comprehensive question, Matilda thought. She hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"I ask you, what do you think are the duties of a member of the Church? +in any branch of it." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose they are the same as anybody else's duties," Matilda +answered. +</P> + +<P> +"The same as anybody else's duties." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"You think it makes no change in one's duties?" +</P> + +<P> +"What change does it make, aunt Candy?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda spoke in all innocence; but Mrs. Candy flushed and frowned. It +did not sweeten her mood that she could not readily find an answer for +the child. +</P> + +<P> +"You allow, at least, that it is one of your duties to obey the fifth +commandment?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Aunt Candy. I try to do it." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you try last night?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"You made me guilty of rudeness by not delivering the message I had +charged you with; and you confessed it was not through forgetfulness. +Will you tell me now why it was?" +</P> + +<P> +It had been through a certain nice sense on Matilda's part that the +message was uncalled for, and even a little officious. She would have +been mortified to be obliged to repeat it to Mrs. Laval. There had +never been the least intercourse between the ladies, and Mrs. Laval had +sought none. If Mrs. Candy sought it, Matilda was unwilling it should +be through her means. But she could not explain this to her aunt. +</P> + +<P> +"You did not choose it," that lady said again, with kindling anger. +</P> + +<P> +"I did not mean to offend you, Aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"No, because you thought I would never hear of it. I have a great mind, +as ever I had to eat, to whip you, Matilda. You are not at all too old +for it, and I believe it would do you a great deal of good. You haven't +had quite enough of that sort of thing." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Whether Matilda had or had not had enough of that sort of thing, it +seemed to her that it was very far from Mrs. Candy's place to propose +or even hint at it. The indignity of the proposal flushed the child +with a sense of injury almost too strong to be borne. Mrs. Candy, in +all her years of life, had never known the sort of keen pain that her +words gave now to a sensitive nature, up to that time held in the most +dainty and tender consideration. Matilda did not speak nor stir; but +she grew pale. +</P> + +<P> +"The next time you shall have it," Mrs. Candy went on. "I should have +no hesitation at all, Matilda, about whipping you; and my hand is not a +light one. I advise you, as your friend, not to come under it. Your +present punishment shall be, that I shall refuse you permission to go +any more to Mrs. Laval's." +</P> + +<P> +The child was motionless and gave no sign, further than the paleness of +her cheeks; which indeed caught Clarissa's observant eye, and made her +uneasy. But she did not tremble nor weep. Probably the rush of feeling +made such a storm in her little breast that she could not accurately +measure the value of this new announcement, or know fairly what it +meant. Perhaps, too, it was like some other things to her limited +experience, too bad to be believed; and Matilda did not really receive +it as a fact, that her visits to Mrs. Laval had ceased. She realised +enough, however, poor child, to make it extremely difficult to bear up +and maintain her dignity; but she did that. Nothing but the paleness +told. Matilda was quite erect and steady before her aunt; and when she +was at last bidden to go to her seat and begin her reading, her +graceful little head took a set upon her shoulders which was very +incensing to Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"I advise you to take care!" she said, threateningly. +</P> + +<P> +But Matilda could not imagine what new cause of offence she had given. +It was very hard to read aloud. She made two or three efforts to get +voice, and then went stiffly on. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not reading well," her aunt broke in. "You are not thinking of +what you are reading." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you not speak? I say you do not read well. Why don't you attend +to your book?" +</P> + +<P> +"I never understand this book," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not, if you do not attend. Go on!" +</P> + +<P> +"She can't read, mamma," whispered Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"She shall read," Mrs. Candy returned, in an answering whisper. +</P> + +<P> +And recognising that necessity, Matilda put a force on herself and read +on, at the imminent peril of choking every now and then, as one thought +and another came up to grasp her. She put it by or put it down, and +went on; obliged herself to go on; wouldn't think, till the weary pages +were come to an end at last, and the hoarse voice had leave to be +still, and she took up her darning. Thoughts would have overcome her +self-control then, in all nature; but that, happily for Matilda's +dignity as she wished to maintain it, Mrs. Candy was pleased to +interrupt the darning of stockings to give Matilda a lesson in patching +linen—an entirely new thing to the child, requiring her best attention +and care; for Mrs. Candy insisted upon the patch being straight to a +thread, and even as a double web would have been. Matilda had to baste +and take out again, baste and take out again; she had enough to do +without going back upon her own grievances; it was extremely difficult +to make a large patch of linen lie straight on all sides and not pucker +itself or the cloth somewhere. Matilda pulled out her basting threads +the third time, with a sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"You will do it, when you come to taking pains enough," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +Now Matilda knew that she was taking the utmost pains possible. She +said nothing, but her hands grew more unsteady. +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, may I help her?" said Clarissa. +</P> + +<P> +"No. She can do it if she tries," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda queried within herself how it would do to throw up the work, +and declare open rebellion; how would the fight go? She was conscious +that to provoke a fight would be wrong; but passion just now had got +the upper hand of wisdom in the child. She concluded, however, that it +would not do; Mrs. Candy could hold out better than she could; but the +last atom of goodwill was gone out of her obedience. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"You have been an hour and a half trying to fix that patch." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't it long enough for one day?" said Matilda, wearily, sitting back +on her heels. +</P> + +<P> +She had got down on the floor the better to manage the work; a large +garment with a large patch to be laid. +</P> + +<P> +"Too long, by an hour; but not long enough, inasmuch as it is not yet +done." +</P> + +<P> +"I am too tired to do it." +</P> + +<P> +"We will see that." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda sat back on her heels, looking at the hopeless piece of linen. +She was flushed, and tired, and angry; but she only sat there looking +at the linen. +</P> + +<P> +"It has got to be done," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"I must get rested first," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not to say 'must' to me," said her aunt. "My dear, I shall +make you do whatever I order. You shall do exactly what I tell you in +everything. Your times of having your own way are ended. You will do my +way now. And you will put on that patch neatly before you eat." +</P> + +<P> +"Maria will want me." +</P> + +<P> +"Maria will do very well without." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda looked at her aunt in equal surprise and dismay. Mrs. Candy had +not seemed like this before. Nothing had prepared her for it. But Mrs. +Candy was a cold-natured woman, not the less fiery and proud when +roused. She could be pleasant enough on the surface, and in general +intercourse with people; she could have petted Matilda and made much of +her, and was, indeed, quite inclined that way. If only Mrs. Laval had +not taken her up, and if Matilda had not been so independent. The two +things together touched her on the wrong side. She was nettled that the +wish of Mrs. Laval was to see only Matilda, of the whole family; and +upon the back of that, she was displeased beyond endurance that Matilda +should withstand her authority and differ from her opinion. There was +no fine and delicate nature in her to read that of the child; only a +coarse pride that was bent upon having itself regarded. She thought +herself disregarded. She was determined to put that down with a high +hand. +</P> + +<P> +Seeing or feeling dimly somewhat of all this, Matilda sat on the floor +in a kind of despair, looking at her patch. +</P> + +<P> +"You had better not sit so, but go about it," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I am tired," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"You will not go down to dinner," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +Could she stand it? Matilda thought. Could she bear it, and not cry? +She was getting so tired and down-hearted. It was quite plain there +would be no going out this afternoon to buy things for Lilac Lane. That +delightful shopping must be postponed; that hope was put further in the +distance. She sat moodily still. She ceased to care when the patching +got done. +</P> + +<P> +"Losing time," said Mrs. Candy at length, getting up and putting by her +own basket. "The bell will ring in a few minutes, Matilda; and I shall +leave you here to do your work at your leisure." +</P> + +<P> +The child looked at her and looked down again, with what slight air of +her little head it is impossible to describe, though it undoubtedly and +unmistakably signified her disapproval. It was Matilda's habitual +gesture, but resented by Mrs. Candy. She stepped up to her and gave the +side of her head a smart stroke with the palm of her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not to answer me by gestures, you know I told you," she +exclaimed. And she and Clarissa quitting the room, the door was locked +on the outside. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda's condition at first was one of simple bewilderment. The +indignity, the injury, the wrong, were so unwonted and so +unintelligible, that the child felt as if she were in a dream. What did +it mean? and was it real? The locked door was a hard fact, that +constantly asserted itself; perhaps so did Matilda's want of dinner; +the linen patches on the floor were another tangible fact. And as +Matilda came to realise that she was alone and could indulge herself, +at last a flood of bitter tears came to wash, they could not wash away, +her hurt feeling and her despair. Every bond was broken, to Matilda's +thinking, between her and her aunt; all friendship was gone that had +been from one to the other; and she was in the power of one who would +use it. That was the hardest to realise; for if Matilda had been in her +mother's power once, it had also been power never exercised. The child +had been always practically her own mistress. Was that ended? Was Mrs. +Candy her mistress now? her freedom gone? and was there no escape? It +made Matilda almost wild to think these thoughts, wild and frightened +together; and with all that, very angry. Not passionately, which was +not her nature, but with a deep sense of displeasure and dislike. The +patch and the linen to be patched lay untouched on the floor, it is +need less to say, when Mrs. Candy came up from dinner. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy came up alone. She surveyed the state of things in silence. +Matilda had been crying, she saw. She left her time to recover from +that and take up her work. But Matilda sat despairing and careless, +looking at it and not thinking of it. +</P> + +<P> +"You do not mean to do that, do you?" she said at last. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, ma'am—sometime," Matilda answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Not now?" +</P> + +<P> +"When I get a little rested." +</P> + +<P> +"You want something," said Mrs. Candy, looking at her; "and I know what +it is. You want bringing down. You never were brought down in your +life, I believe, or you would not dare me so now!" +</P> + +<P> +"I did not mean to dare you, Aunt Candy," said Matilda, lifting her +head. +</P> + +<P> +"You will not do it after to-day," said Mrs. Candy. "I am not going to +give you what I threatened. I leave that for another time. I don't +believe we shall ever come to that. But you want bringing down, all the +same; and I know what will do it, too. Cold water will do it." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean, Aunt Candy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean cold water. I have heard you say you don't like it; but it +would be very good for you, in two ways. I am going to bathe you with +it from your head to your feet. Here is my bath-tub, and I'll have it +ready in a minute. Take off your clothes, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +It was with nothing less than horror that Matilda now earnestly +besought her aunt to think better of this determination. She did +dislike cold water, and after a child's luxurious fashion had always +been allowed to use warm water. But worse than cold water was the idea +of her aunt, or anybody, presuming to apply it in the capacity of +bather. Matilda refused and pleaded, alternately; pleaded very humbly +at last; but in vain. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought I knew something that would bring you down," Mrs. Candy said +composedly and pleased; and in the same manner proceeded to strip off +Matilda's clothes, put her in the bath-tub, and make thorough +application of the hated element as she had said, from head to foot; +scrubbing and dousing and sponging; till if Matilda had been in the sea +she would not better have known how cold water felt all over her. It +was done in five minutes, too; and then, after being well rubbed down, +Matilda was directed to put on her clothes again and finish her +patching. +</P> + +<P> +"I fancy you will feel refreshed for it now," said her aunt. "This will +be a good thing for you. I used to give it to Clarissa always when she +was a little thing; and now I will do the same by you, my love. Every +day, you shall come to me in the morning when you first get up." +</P> + +<P> +No announcement could have been more dismayful; but this time Matilda +said nothing. She bent herself to her patching, the one uppermost +desire being to finish it and get out of the room. The cold water <I>had</I> +refreshed and strengthened her, much as she disliked and hated it; at +the same time the sense of hunger, from the same cause, grew keener +than ever. Matilda tried her very best to lay the patch straight, and +get it basted so. And so keen the endeavour was, so earnest the +attention, that though laying a linen patch by the thread <I>is</I> a nice +piece of business, she succeeded at last. Mrs. Candy was content with +the work, satisfied with its being only basted for that time, and let +her go. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda slowly made her way down to the lower regions, where Maria was +still at work, and asked for something to eat. Maria looked very black, +and demanded explanations of what was going on up-stairs. Matilda would +say nothing, until she had found something to satisfy her hunger, and +had partially devoured a slice of bread and meat. In the midst of that +she broke off, and wrapping her arms round her sister in a clinging +way, exclaimed suddenly— +</P> + +<P> +"O Maria, keep me, keep me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Keep you! from what? What do you mean, Tilly?" said the astonished +Maria. +</P> + +<P> +"From Aunt Candy. <I>Can't</I> you keep me?" +</P> + +<P> +"What has she done?" Maria asked, growing very wrathful. +</P> + +<P> +"Can't you keep me from her, Maria?" +</P> + +<P> +"And I say, what has she done to you, Tilly? Do hold up and answer me. +How can I tell anything when you act like that? What has she done?" +</P> + +<P> +"She says she'll give me a cold bath every morning," Matilda said, +seeming to shrink and shiver as she said it. +</P> + +<P> +"A cold bath!" exclaimed Maria. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Oh, can't you keep me from it?" +</P> + +<P> +"What has put the notion in her head?" +</P> + +<P> +"She used to do it to Clarissa, she says; but I think she wants to do +it to me because I don't like it. Oh, I don't like it, Maria!" +</P> + +<P> +"She's too mean for anything," said Maria. "I never saw anything like +her. But maybe it won't be so bad as you think, Tilly. She and Clarissa +both take a cold bath every morning, you know; and they like it." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like it!" said Matilda, with the extremest accent of +repugnance. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe it won't seem so bad when you've tried." +</P> + +<P> +"I have tried," said Matilda, bursting into tears; "she gave me one +to-day, and I don't like it; and I can't <I>bear</I> to have her bathe me!" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda's tears came now in a shower, with sobs of the most heartfelt +trouble. Maria looked black as a thunder-cloud. +</P> + +<P> +"O Maria, can't you keep me from her?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not without killing her," said Maria. "I feel as if I would almost +like to do that sometimes." +</P> + +<P> +"O Maria, you mustn't speak so!" said Matilda, shocked even in the +midst of her grief. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, and I don't mean it," said Maria; "but what can I do, Tilly? If +she takes a notion in her head, she will follow it, you know; and it +would take more than ever I saw to turn her. And you see, she thinks +cold water is the best thing in the world." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but I <I>can't</I> bear to have her bathe me!" Matilda repeated. "And +I don't like cold water. She rubs, and she scrubs, and she throws the +water over me, and the soap-suds, and she don't care at all whether I +like it or not. I wish I could get away! I wish I could get away, +Maria! Oh, I wish I could get away!" +</P> + +<P> +"So do I wish I could," said Maria, gloomily eyeing her little sister's +sobs. "We've got to stand it, Tilly, for the present. I haven't +anywhere to go to, and you haven't. Come, don't cry. Eat your bread and +meat. I dare say you will get used to cold water." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not get used to <I>her</I>," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +However, a part of Maria's prediction did come true. Cold water is less +terrible, the more acquaintance one has with it; and probably Mrs. +Candy's assertion was also true, that it was capital for Matilda. And +Matilda would not have much minded it at last, if only the +administration could have been left to herself. But Mrs. Candy kept +that in her own hands, knowing, probably, that it was one effectual +means of keeping Matilda herself in her hands. Every morning, when Mrs. +Candy's bell rang, Matilda was obliged to run down-stairs and submit +herself to her aunt's manipulations, which were pretty much as she had +described them; and under those energetic unscrupulous hands, which +dealt with her as they listed, and regarded her wishes in no sort nor +respect, Matilda was quite helpless; and she was subdued. Mrs. Candy +had attained that end; she no longer thought of resisting her aunt in +any way. It was the first time in Matilda's life that she had been +obliged to obey another. Between her mother and herself the question +had hardly arisen, except upon isolated occasions. She dared not let +the question ever arise now with Mrs. Candy. She read, and darned, and +patched, and grew skilful in those latter arts; she never objected now. +She came to her bath, and never uttered now the vain pleadings which at +first even her dignity gave way to make. Mrs. Candy had quite put down +the question of dignity. Matilda did not venture to disobey her any +more in anything. She went no more to walk without asking leave; she +visited no more at Mrs. Laval's; Mrs. Candy even took Matilda in her +triumph to her own church in the morning. Matilda suffered, but +submitted without a word. +</P> + +<P> +How much the child suffered, nobody knew or guessed. She kept it to +herself. Mrs. Candy did not even suspect that there was much suffering +in the case, beyond a little enforced submission, and a little +disappointment now and then about going to see somebody. Mrs. Laval's +house was forbidden, that was all; and for a few days Matilda did not +get time, or leave, to go out to walk. +</P> + +<P> +She was kept very busy. And she was pleasant about her work with Maria, +and gentle and well-behaved when at her work with her aunt. Not gay, +certainly, as she had begun to be sometimes lately, before this time; +but Maria was so far from gaiety herself that she did not miss it in +her sister; and Mrs. Candy saw no change but the change she had wished +for. Nevertheless they did not see all. There were hours, when Matilda +could shut herself up in her room and be alone, and Maria was asleep in +her bed at night; when the little head bent over her Bible, and tears +fell like rain, and struggles that nobody dreamed of went on in the +child's heart. The thing she lived on, was the hope of getting out and +doing that beloved shopping; meeting Norton, somehow, somewhere, as one +does impossible things in a dream, and arranging with him to go to +Lilac Lane together. The little pocket-book lay all safe and ready +waiting for the time; and when Matilda could let herself think pleasant +thoughts, she went into rapturous fancies of the wonderful changes to +be wrought in Mrs. Eldridge's house. +</P> + +<P> +She saw nothing meanwhile of Lemuel Dow. The Sunday following her +afternoon at Mrs. Laval's had been a little rainy in the latter part of +it. Perhaps the little Dow boy, who minded rain no more than a duck on +other days, might be afraid of a wetting on Sunday. Other people often +are. But Matilda meant to look for him next time, and have her sugared +almonds in readiness. +</P> + +<P> +One of the days of that week, it happened that Mrs. Candy took Matilda +out with her for a walk. It was not at all agreeable to Matilda; but +she was learning to submit to what was not agreeable, and she made no +objection. On the way they stopped at Mr. Sample's store; Mrs. Candy +wanted to get some smoked salmon. Mr. Sample served her himself. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you like the tea I sent you?" he asked, while he was weighing +the fish. +</P> + +<P> +"Tea?" said Mrs. Candy. "You sent me no tea." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes I did, last week; it was Monday or Tuesday, I think. You +wanted to try another kind, I understood." +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted nothing of the sort. I have plenty of tea on hand, and am +perfectly suited with it. You have made some mistake." +</P> + +<P> +"I am glad you are suited," Mr. Sample rejoined; "but I have made no +mistake. This little girl came for it, and I weighed it out myself and +gave it to her. And a loaf of bread at the same time." +</P> + +<P> +"It was not for you, Aunt Candy; it was for myself," said Matilda. "I +paid for it, Mr. Sample; it was not charged." +</P> + +<P> +"You did not pay me, Miss Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mr. Sample; I paid Patrick." +</P> + +<P> +"What did you buy tea and bread for?" her aunt inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted it," Matilda answered. +</P> + +<P> +"What for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wanted it to give away," Matilda said, in a low voice, being obliged +to speak. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy waited till they were out of the shop, and then desired to +know particulars. For whom Matilda wanted it; where she took it; when +she went; who went with her. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it a clean place?" was her inquiry at last. Matilda was obliged to +confess it was not. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go there again without my knowledge, Matilda. Do you hear?" +</P> + +<P> +"I hear. But Aunt Candy," said Matilda, in great dismay, "it doesn't +hurt me." +</P> + +<P> +"No; I mean it shall not. Have you always gone wandering just where you +liked?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, always. Shadywalk is a perfectly safe place." +</P> + +<P> +"For common children, perhaps. Not for you. Do not go near Lilac Lane +again. It is a mercy you have escaped safe as it is." +</P> + +<P> +Escaped from what, Matilda wondered. Even a little soil to her clothes +might be washed off, and she did not think she had got so much harm as +that. If she could only meet Norton now, before reaching home; there +would never be another chance. Matilda longed to see him, with an +intensity which seemed almost as if it must bring him before her; but +it did not. In vain she watched every corner and every group of boys or +cluster of people they passed; Norton's trim figure was not to be seen; +and the house door shut upon Matilda in her despair. She went up to her +room, and kneeling down, laid her head on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"It's almost tea-time," said Maria. "What is the matter now?" +</P> + +<P> +But Matilda was not crying; she was in despair. +</P> + +<P> +"Come!" said Maria. "Come, what ails you? Tired?—It is time to get +tea, Matilda, and I want your help. What <I>is</I> the matter now?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda lifted a perfectly forlorn face to her sister. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't go anywhere!" she said. "I am in prison. I can't go to Lilac +Lane any more. I cannot do anything any more. And they want me so!" +</P> + +<P> +Down went Matilda's head. Maria stood, perhaps a little conscience +struck. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Who</I> wants you so much?" +</P> + +<P> +"The poor people there. Mrs. Eldridge and Mrs. Rogers. They want me so +much." +</P> + +<P> +"What for, Tilly?" said Maria, a little more gently than her wont. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, for a great many things," said Matilda, brushing away a tear or +two; "and now I can go no more—I cannot do anything—Oh dear!" +</P> + +<P> +The little girl broke down. +</P> + +<P> +"She's the most hateful, spiteful, masterful woman, that ever was!" +Maria exclaimed; "too mean to live, and too cunning to breathe. She's +an old witch!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh don't, Maria!" +</P> + +<P> +"I will," said Maria. "I will talk. It is the only comfort I have. What +is she up to now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just that," said Matilda. "She found I had been to Lilac Lane, and she +said I must not go again without her knowing; and she will never let me +go. I needn't ask her. She doesn't like me to go there. And I wanted to +do so much! If she could only have waited—only have waited——" +</P> + +<P> +"What made you let her know you had been there?" +</P> + +<P> +"She found out. I couldn't help it. Now she will not let me go ever +again. Never, never!" +</P> + +<P> +"What did you want to do in Lilac Lane, Tilly?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, things. I wanted to do a great deal. Things.—They'll never be +done!" cried Matilda, in bitter distress. "I cannot do them now. I +cannot do anything." +</P> + +<P> +"She is as mean as she can live!" said Maria again. "But Tilly, I don't +believe Lilac Lane is a good place for you, neither. What did you want +to do there? what <I>could</I> you do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Things," said Matilda, indefinitely. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not old enough to go poking about Lilac Lane by yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't go any way," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +She cried a long while to wash down this disappointment, and the +effects of it did not go off in the tears. The child became very silent +and sober. Her duties she did, as she had done them, about the house +and in Mrs. Candy's room; but the bright face and the glad ways were +gone. In the secret of her private hours Matilda had struggles to go +through that left her with the marks of care upon her all the rest of +the time. +</P> + +<P> +The next Sunday she was made to go to church with her aunt. She went to +her own Sunday-school in the afternoon; but she was not allowed to get +off early enough for the reading and talk with Mary and Ailie. Lem Dow, +however, was on hand; that was one single drop of comfort. He looked +for his sugared almonds and they were on hand too; and besides that, +Matilda was able to see that he was quite pleased with the place and +the singing and the doings in his class, and making friends with the +boys. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you come next Sunday?" Matilda asked him, as they were going out. +He nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Won't Jemima come too, if you ask her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I won't ask her." +</P> + +<P> +"No? why not?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want her to come." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't want her to come? Why it is a pleasant place, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's a heap more jolly if she ain't here," said Lem, knowingly. +</P> + +<P> +It was a difficult argument to answer, with one whose general +benevolence was not very full grown yet. Matilda went home thinking how +many people wanted something done for them, and how she could touch +nobody. She was not allowed to go to church in the evening. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<P> +The days seemed to move slowly. They were such troublesome days to +Matilda. From the morning bath, which was simply her detestation, all +through the long hours of reading, and patching, and darning in Mrs. +Candy's room, the time dragged; and no sooner was dinner over, than she +began to dread the next morning again. It was not so much for the cold +water as for the relentless hand that applied it. Matilda greatly +resented having it applied to her at all by any hand but her own; it +was an aggravation that her aunt minded that, and her, no more than if +she had been a baby. It was a daily trial, and daily trouble; for +Matilda was obliged to conquer herself, and be silent, and submit where +her whole soul rose and rebelled. She must not speak her anger, and +pleadings were entirely disregarded. So she ran down in the morning +when her aunt's bell rang, and was passive under all that Mrs. Candy +pleased to inflict; and commanded herself when she wanted to cry for +vexation, and was still when words of entreaty or defiance rose to her +lips. The sharp lesson of self-control Matilda was learning now. She +had to practise it again when she took her hours of needlework. Mrs. +Candy was teaching her now to knit, and now to mend lace, and then to +make buttonholes; and she required perfection; and Matilda was forced +to be very patient, and careful to the extreme of carefulness, and +docile when her work was pulled out, and persevering when she was quite +tired and longed to go down and help Maria in the kitchen. She was +learning useful arts, no doubt, but Matilda did not care for them; all +the while the most valuable thing she was learning was the lesson of +power over herself. Well if that were all. But there were some things +also down in the bottom of Matilda's heart which it was not good to +learn; and she knew it; but she did not know very well how to help it. +</P> + +<P> +Several weeks had gone by in this manner, and now June was about over. +Matilda had not gone to Lilac Lane again, nor seen Norton, nor made any +of her purchases for Mrs. Eldridge. She had almost given all that up. +She wondered that she saw nothing of Norton; but if he had ever come to +the house she had not heard of it. Matilda was not allowed to go out in +the evening now any more. No more Band meetings, or prayer meetings, or +church service in the evening for her. And in the morning of Sunday +Mrs. Candy was very apt to carry her off to her own church, which +Matilda disliked beyond all expression. But she went as quietly as if +she had liked it. +</P> + +<P> +Things were in this state, when one evening Maria came up to bed and +burst out as soon as she had got into the room,— +</P> + +<P> +"Think of it! They are going to New York to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was bewildered, and asked who was going to New York. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>They</I>. Aunt Erminia and Clarissa. To be gone all day! Hurrah! We'll +have just what we like for dinner, and I'll let the kitchen fire go +out." +</P> + +<P> +"Are they going down to New York to-morrow?" said Matilda, standing and +looking at her sister. +</P> + +<P> +"By the early train. Don't you hear me tell you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it was too good news to be true," said Matilda, drawing a +long breath. +</P> + +<P> +"It is, almost; but they are going. They are going to do shopping. +That's what it's for. And I say, Matilda, won't we have a great dinner +to get!" +</P> + +<P> +"They will want dinner after they get home." +</P> + +<P> +"No, they won't. They will take dinner somehow down there. Why they +will not be home, Tilly, till nine o'clock. They can't. The train don't +get up till a quarter-past eight, that train they are going to take; +and they will have to be an hour pretty near riding up from the +station. Hurrah! hurrah!" +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! don't make so much noise. They will hear you." +</P> + +<P> +"No, they won't. They have come up to bed. We are to have breakfast at +six o'clock. We shall have all the longer day." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I hope Aunt Candy will not have time to give me my bath." +</P> + +<P> +"No, she won't; she told me to tell you. You are to be ever so early, +and help me to get the breakfast. I shall not know what to do with the +day, though, I shall want to do so much. That is the worst of it." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda thought <I>she</I> would be under no such difficulty, if only her +way were not so hedged in. The things she would have liked to do were +forbidden things. She might not go to Lilac Lane; she might not go to +Mrs. Laval's. She half expected that her aunt would say she must not go +out of the house at all. That misfortune, however, did not happen. The +early breakfast and bustle and arrangements for getting off occupied +Mrs. Candy so completely that she gave no commands whatever. The +omnibus fairly drove away with her, and left Maria and Matilda +unrestricted by any new restrictions. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems," said Matilda, gravely, as they stood by the gate, "it seems +as if I could see the sky again. I haven't seen it this great while." +</P> + +<P> +"Seen the sky!" said Maria; "what has ailed you? You have gone out +often enough." +</P> + +<P> +"It didn't seem as if I could see the sky," said Matilda, gazing up +into the living blue depth above her. "I can see it now." +</P> + +<P> +"You are funny," said Maria. "It don't seem to me as if I had seen +anything, for weeks. Dear me! to-day will be only too short." +</P> + +<P> +"It is half-past six now," said Matilda. "Between now and nine o'clock +to-night there are—let me see; half-past twelve will be six hours, and +half-past six will be twelve hours; six, seven, eight, nine,—nine will +be two hours and a half more; that will be fourteen and a half hours." +</P> + +<P> +"Fourteen," said Maria, "That half we shall be expecting them." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we've got to go in and put the house in order, first thing," +said Matilda. "Let's make haste." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I'll let the kitchen fire go out," said Maria; "and we'll dine on +bread and butter, and cold potatoes. I like cold potatoes; don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Matilda; "but I don't care what we have. I'll have bread and +butter and cold coffee, Maria; let us save the coffee. That will do." +</P> + +<P> +With these arrangements made, the day began. The two girls flew round +in a kind of glee to put the rooms up and get all the work done out of +the way. Work was a kind of play that morning. Then they agreed to take +their dinner early and dress themselves. Maria was going out after that +to see some friends and have some fun, she said. Matilda on her part +had a sort of faint hope that to-day, when it would be so opportune, it +might happen that Norton Laval would come to see what had become of +her. She was almost afraid to go out and lose the chance; though, to be +sure, it was only the ghost of a chance. Yet for that ghost of a chance +she did linger and wait in the house for an hour or two after Maria had +gone out. Then it began to press upon her that her aunt had ordered her +to get some strawberries from Mr. Sample's for tea; she was uneasy till +it was done, and at last took her hat and her basket and resolved to +run round into Butternut Street and get that off her mind. +</P> + +<P> +She was standing in Mr. Sample's shop, patiently waiting until her turn +should come to be served, when a hand was laid upon her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do, Tilly? You are grown a stranger." +</P> + +<P> +"O Mr. Richmond!" was Matilda's startled response. And it was more +startled than glad. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter? you look as if I had frightened you,—almost," +said the minister, smiling. Matilda did not say what was the matter. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you been quite well?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes sir." +</P> + +<P> +"You were not in your place on Sunday." +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir." +</P> + +<P> +And Matilda's tone of voice gave an unconscious commentary upon her +very few words. +</P> + +<P> +"And you have not been to take tea with me in a great while." +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose you come to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I cannot, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not? I think you can." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whether my aunt would let me." +</P> + +<P> +"We will go and ask her." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, sir; she is not at home, Mr. Richmond. She has gone to New +York." +</P> + +<P> +"For how long?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only till nine o'clock to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"Then there can be no possible harm in your coming to take tea at the +parsonage." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know whether she would let me," said Matilda, with an evident +intimation that the doubt was barrier enough. +</P> + +<P> +"You think she would not like it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think—perhaps—she would not. Thank you, Mr. Richmond!" +</P> + +<P> +"But, Tilly, I want to talk to you. Have you nothing to say to me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir. A great deal," said the child, with the look of slow +meditation. The minister considered her for a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall take the decision of the question upon myself, Tilly, and I +will make it all right with your aunt. Come to the parsonage, or +rather, go to the parsonage; and I will join you there presently. I +have half an hour's business first to attend to. You must carry those +strawberries home? Very well; then go straight to the parsonage and +wait there for me." +</P> + +<P> +And with an encouraging nod and smile, Mr. Richmond walked off. Matilda +took her basket home; carried the key of the house door to Maria at +Mrs. Trembleton's; and set her face up Butternut Street. +</P> + +<P> +She was very glad; it seemed like getting out of prison; though she was +not altogether satisfied in her mind that Mr. Richmond might be able to +make it all right with Mrs. Candy. She was obliged to risk that, for +Mr. Richmond's invitation had had the force of an injunction. So she +took the good of the moment, and turned in at the gate of the parsonage +lane with something like a feeling of exultation and triumph. The +shadow of the elms was sweet on the road; the smooth quiet of the +grounds, railed off from worldly business and care, seemed proper only +to the houses of peace which stood upon them. The old creamy-brown +church on one side; on the other the pretty new Sunday-school house; in +front, at the end of the avenue of elms, the brown door of the +parsonage. Matilda felt as if her own life had got away from out of +peaceful enclosures; and she walked up the avenue slowly; too slowly +for such a young life-traveller. She had no need to knock this time, +but just opened the door and went straight to Mr. Richmond's study. +</P> + +<P> +That was peace itself. It was almost too pleasant, to Matilda's fancy. +A cool matting was on the floor; the light softened by green hanging +blinds; the soft gloom of books, as usual, all about; Mr. Richmond's +table, and work materials, and empty chair telling of his habitual +occupation; and on his table a jar of beautiful flowers, which some +parishioner's careful hand had brought for his pleasure. The room was +sweet with geranium and lily odours; and so still and pure-breathed, +that the flowers in their depth of colour and wealth of fragrance +seemed to speak through the stillness. Matilda did not ask what they +said, though maybe she heard. She came a little way into the room, +stood still and looked about her a while; and then the child flung +herself down on her knees beside a chair and burst into a passion of +weeping. +</P> + +<P> +It lasted so long and was so violent that she never heard Mr. Richmond +come in. And he on his part was astonished. At the first sound of his +voice Matilda stopped crying and let him raise her from the floor; but +he did not put her into a chair. Instead of that he sat down himself +and drew her to his side. Of course he asked what the matter was. Also, +of course, Matilda could not tell him. Mr. Richmond found that out, and +then took another road to his object. He let Matilda get quite quiet; +gave her a bunch of grapes to eat, while he seemed to busy himself +among his books and papers; at last put that down, and took Matilda's +plate from her. +</P> + +<P> +"You do not come to church in the evening lately, I observe, Tilly," he +remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. Aunt Candy does not like me to go." +</P> + +<P> +"And you have not been to the prayer meeting either, or to the meetings +of our Commission. The 'Band' is called our 'Christian Commission,' +now." +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir." And Matilda's eyes watered. +</P> + +<P> +"For the same reason?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Not because you have lost pleasure in such meetings?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, Mr. Richmond! Did you think I had?" she asked, timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"I could not <I>know</I>, you know," said Mr. Richmond, "and I wanted to ask +you. I am very glad to hear it is no bad reason that keeps you away." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't say <I>that</I>, Mr. Richmond," Matilda answered, slowly. "Could +it be a good reason?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, it might," said Mr. Richmond, cheerfully. "You might be not well +enough; or you might have more important duties to do at home; or you +might be unwilling to come alone; and all those might be good reasons +for staying away." +</P> + +<P> +"It was no such reason," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +There was silence. +</P> + +<P> +"You wanted to talk to me, you said," Mr. Richmond observed. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mr. Richmond, I do; if I only knew how." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it so difficult? It never used to be very difficult, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir; but things are—different." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>You</I> are not different, are you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda, slowly; "I am afraid so. I feel very +different." +</P> + +<P> +"In what way?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," she went on, still slowly, and as if she were +meditating her words,—"I don't see how I can do just right." +</P> + +<P> +"In what respect?" said the minister, very quietly. Again Matilda +paused. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond, is it always wrong to hate people?" +</P> + +<P> +"What things should make it right for us to hate people?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda in the same considering way, "when there +isn't the least thing you can love them for, or like them?" +</P> + +<P> +"What if the Lord had gone by that rule in dealing with us?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but He is so good." +</P> + +<P> +"And has commanded us to be just as good, has He not?" +</P> + +<P> +"But can we, Mr. Richmond?" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think, Tilly, the Lord meant when He gave us the order?" +</P> + +<P> +"He meant we should try." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think He meant that we should only <I>try?</I> do you think He did +not mean that we should be as He said?" +</P> + +<P> +"And love hateful people?" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think, Tilly?" +</P> + +<P> +"O Mr. Richmond, I think I'm not good." +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter, my dear child?" Mr. Richmond said tenderly, as +Matilda burst into quiet tears again. "What troubles you?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>That</I>, Mr. Richmond. I'm afraid I am not good, for I am not like +that; and I don't see how I can be." +</P> + +<P> +"What is the hindrance? or the difficulty?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because, Mr. Richmond, I am afraid I hate my Aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond was quite silent, and Matilda sobbed awhile. +</P> + +<P> +"Do I understand you aright?" he said, at last. "Do you say that you +hate your aunt?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Why should you hate her? Is she not very kind to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not call her kind," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"In what respect is she not kind?" +</P> + +<P> +The child sobbed again, with the unspoken difficulty; stifled sobs. +</P> + +<P> +"She is not cruel to you?" said Mr. Richmond. +</P> + +<P> +"I think she is cruel," said Matilda; "for she does not in the least +care about doing things that I do not like; she does not care at all +whether I like them or not. I think she likes it." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just to do things that I can't bear, Mr. Richmond; and she knows I +can't bear them." +</P> + +<P> +"What is her reason for doing these things?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think the greatest reason is because she knows I can't bear them. I +think I am growing wicked." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it because you displease her in any way, that she does it for a +punishment?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not displease her in any way," said poor Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"And yet she likes to grieve you?" +</P> + +<P> +"She said I wanted putting down. And now, I suppose I am put down. I am +just in prison. I can't do anything. I can't go to Mrs. Laval's house +any more. I must not go to Lilac Lane any more. She won't let me. And O +Mr. Richmond, we were going to do such nice things!" +</P> + +<P> +"Who were going to do such nice things?" +</P> + +<P> +"Norton Laval and I." +</P> + +<P> +"What things were they?" +</P> + +<P> +"We were going to do <I>such</I> nice things! Mrs. Laval gave me money for +them, and Norton, he has money always; and we were going to have Mrs. +Eldridge's house cleaned, and get a bedstead, and towels, and a table, +and ever so many things for her, to make her comfortable; and I thought +it would be so pleasant to get the things and take them to her. And +aunt Candy says I am not to go again." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you tell your aunt what you were going to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, sir; she thinks I have no business with such things; and she +does not like anybody to go into very poor houses." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you did not ask her leave?" +</P> + +<P> +"It never is any use to ask her anything. She won't let me go out to +church now, except in the morning, and then sometimes she makes me go +with her." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond was silent for some time. Matilda grew quiet, and they +both were still. +</P> + +<P> +"And the worst of it all is," resumed Matilda, at last, "that it makes +me hate her." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not like to hear you say that." +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, very sorrowfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think it is right?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think you cannot help doing what is wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think I can like Aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"We will pass that. But between not liking and hating, there is a wide +distance. Are you obliged to hate her?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda did not answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think anybody can be a child of God and have <I>hatred</I> in his +heart?" +</P> + +<P> +"How can I help it, Mr. Richmond?" said Matilda, piteously. +</P> + +<P> +"How can you help anything? The best way is to be so full of love to +Jesus that you love everybody for his sake." +</P> + +<P> +"But people that are not good," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"It is easy to love people that are good. The wonder of the love of the +Lord Jesus is, that it comes to people who are not good. And His +children are like Him. 'Be ye followers of God,' He tells them, 'as +dear children; and walk in love.'" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not like that, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said, sadly. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't you love little Lem Dow? I am sure he is not very good." +</P> + +<P> +"But he never troubled me, much," said Matilda. "He does not make me +miserable all the day long." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond paused again. +</P> + +<P> +"Our Master knew what it was to be ill-treated by bad people, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"How did he feel towards them?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, but I am not like that," said Matilda again. +</P> + +<P> +"You must be, if you are His child." +</P> + +<P> +"Must I?" said Matilda, the tears dropping from her eyes quietly. "How +can I? If you only knew, Mr. Richmond!" +</P> + +<P> +"No matter; the Lord knows. Tell Him all about it, and pray to be made +so like Him and to love Him so well that you may love even this unkind +friend." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think she is my friend," said Matilda; "but it don't make any +difference." +</P> + +<P> +"No, it does not make any difference." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, timidly, after a moment, "won't you pray +with me?" +</P> + +<P> +Which the minister instantly did. Matilda wept quietly all the time of +his prayer, and after they rose from their knees, leaning her head on +Mr. Richmond's shoulder, where she had poured out her troubles once +before. Her friend let her alone, keeping his arm round her kindly, +till the child raised her head and wiped her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you feel better?" he whispered then. Matilda answered "yes," in an +answering whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"But Mr. Richmond," she said, presently, "I am very sorry for Lilac +Lane." +</P> + +<P> +"I am very sorry," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"There is the money in my purse, all ready, and our list of things. It +would have been so pleasant." +</P> + +<P> +"Very pleasant," Mr. Richmond answered. +</P> + +<P> +"And now I can't do Band work any more," Matilda went on. "I have no +opportunities for anything any more. I cannot do anything at all." +</P> + +<P> +"There might be something to say about that," Mr. Richmond replied; +"but I think you have had enough talk just now. Is your sorrow on +account of Lilac Lane because you have lost the pleasure? or because +Mrs. Eldridge has lost it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, both," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose so. Would it be any comfort to you to know that the work was +done, even though you did not see it?" +</P> + +<P> +"What, you mean the house cleaned and the things got, and Mrs. Eldridge +fixed up as we meant to do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean that." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes," said Matilda. "If I could know it was done, I would not be +half so sorry about it. But Norton can't manage alone; and Maria has no +time." +</P> + +<P> +"No, but somebody else might. Now go off and talk to Miss Redwood; and +make some more gingerbread or something; and after tea we will see +about your lost opportunities if you like." +</P> + +<P> +"Would Miss Redwood do all that for me?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"You can consult her and find out." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII. +</H3> + +<P> +Miss Redwood was mopping up the yellow painted floor of her kitchen, as +Matilda softly pushed open the door and looked in. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's that?" said the housekeeper. "Floor's all wet; and I don't want +no company till there's a place for 'em to be. Stop! is that Tilly +Englefield? Why, I declare it is! Come right in, child. You're the +greatest stranger in town." +</P> + +<P> +"But I am afraid to come in, Miss Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you're easy scared. Come in, child. Step up on that cheer, and +sit down on my table. There! now I can look at you, and you can look at +me, if you want to. I'll be through directly, and it won't take this +paint no time to dry. How's all the folks at your house?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gone to New York for the day; Aunt Candy and Cousin Clarissa are." +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't ha' hurted 'em to have took you along. Why didn't they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh they were going shopping," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, had you any objections to go shopping?" said the housekeeper, +sitting back on her feet and wringing her cloth, as she looked at +Matilda perched up on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"I hadn't any shopping to do, you know," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"I hain't no shopping to do, nother," said Miss Redwood, resuming her +work vigorously; "but I always like to see other folks' goins on. It's +a play to me, jest to go in 'long o' somebody else and see 'em pull +down all the things, and turn over all the colours in the rainbow, and +suit themselves with purchases I wouldn't look at, and leave my gowns +and shawls high and dry on the shelf. And when I go out, I have bought +as many dresses as they have, and I have kept my money for all." +</P> + +<P> +"But sometimes people buy what you would like too, Miss Redwood, don't +they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, child, not often; 'cause, you see, folks's minds is sot on +different things; and somehow, folks's gowns have a way o' comin' out +o' their hearts. I kin tell, pretty well, what sort o' disposition +there is inside of a dress, or under a bonnet, without askin' nobody to +give me a character. What's be come o' you all these days? Ha' you made +any more gingerbread?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"I guess you've forgotten all about it, then. What's the reason, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have been too busy, Miss Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"Goin' to school again?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I've been busy at home." +</P> + +<P> +"But makin' gingerbread is play, child; <I>that</I> ain't work." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was silent; and the housekeeper presently came to a pause +again; sat back on her feet, wrung her mopping cloth, and considered +Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you want to make some this afternoon?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you please; yes, I should like it," said the little girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Humph!" said the housekeeper. "What have you been tiring yourself with +to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not tired," said Matilda. "Thank you, Miss Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"If I was to get a good bowl o' sour cream now, and shew you how to +toss up a short-cake—how would you like that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I would like it very much—if I could." +</P> + +<P> +"Sit still then," said the housekeeper, "till my floor's dry. Why +hain't you been to see me before, eh? Everybody else in creation has +been in at the parsonage door but you. You ain't beginnin' to take up +with that French minister, air you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, indeed, Miss Redwood! But he isn't a French minister." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care what he is," said the housekeeper; "he takes airs; and a +minister as takes airs had better be French, I think. What do you go to +hear him for, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Candy takes me." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you don't go because you want to? that's what I am drivin' at." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, indeed I don't, Miss Redwood. I would never go, if I could help +myself." +</P> + +<P> +"What harm would happen to you if you didn't?" asked the housekeeper, +dryly. But Matilda was distressed and could not tell. +</P> + +<P> +"There is ministers as takes airs," continued the housekeeper sitting +up and giving her mop a final wring, "but they can't kind o' help it; +it's born with 'em, you may say; it's their natur. It's a pity, but so +it is. That's one thing. I'm sorry for 'em, for I think they must have +a great load to carry. But when a man goes to bowin' and curchying, +outside o' society, and having a tailor of his own to make his coat +unlike all other folks, I think I don't want to have him learn <I>me</I> +manners. Folks always takes after their minister—more or less." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think so?" said Matilda, dubiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Why yes, child. I said <I>more</I> or <I>less;</I> with some of 'em it's a good +deal less. Don't you do what Mr. Richmond tells you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I try," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"So I try," said Miss Redwood, getting upon her feet. "La! we all do—a +little. It's natur. Don't your aunt, now, take after <I>her</I> minister?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose so," said Matilda, with a sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you go gettin' into that Frenchman's ways. Mr. Richmond's thumb +is worth all there is o' <I>him</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Redwood," said Matilda, "I want to ask you something." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, why don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I want to know if you won't do something for me." +</P> + +<P> +"Talk away," said the housekeeper. "I hear." She went meanwhile getting +out the flour and things wanted for the short-cake. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a poor old woman that lives in Lilac Lane; Mrs. Eldridge, her +name is." +</P> + +<P> +"Sally Eldridge," said Miss Redwood. "La! I know her. She's poor, as +you say." +</P> + +<P> +"You know where she lives?" +</P> + +<P> +"Course I do, child. I know where everybody lives." +</P> + +<P> +"You know she is very poor, and her house wants cleaning, and she +hasn't a great many things to be comfortable." +</P> + +<P> +"How come you to know it?" asked the housekeeper. +</P> + +<P> +"I have been there. I have seen her. I know her very well." +</P> + +<P> +"Who took you there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody took me there. I heard about her, and I went to see her." +</P> + +<P> +"You didn't learn that of the French minister." +</P> + +<P> +"But he is not French, Miss Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"I wisht he was," said the housekeeper. "I say nothin' agin other +country people, only to be sorry for 'em; but I get put out o' my +patience when I see one of the right stock makin' a fool of himself. +Well, honey, what about Mis' Eldridge?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've got some money, Miss Redwood,—somebody gave me some money, to +get things for her and do what I like; and Norton Laval and I were +going to have her made nice and comfortable. But now Aunt Candy will +not let me go there any more, and I can't do what I wanted to do; and I +thought—Mr. Richmond thought—maybe you would see to it for me." +</P> + +<P> +"What's to be done?" said the housekeeper. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, first of all, Miss Redwood, her house wants cleaning. It is not +fit to put anything nice into it." +</P> + +<P> +"All Lilac Lane wouldn't be the worse of a cleanin'," said the +housekeeper; "men and women and all; but I don't know who's to do the +cleanin'." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought maybe Sabrina Rogers would do it,—if she was paid, you +know. She lives just over the way, and she <I>is</I> pretty clean." +</P> + +<P> +"Kin try," said the housekeeper. "No harm in tryin'. I guess a dollar +would fetch her round. Supposin' it was cleaned; what's to do next?" +</P> + +<P> +"Get things, Miss Redwood," said Matilda, looking up at her eagerly. +"You know she wants so much. I want to get a bedstead for her, and a +decent bed; her bed isn't a bed, and it lies on the floor. And she has +no way to wash herself; I want to send her a little washstand, and +basin, and pitcher, and towels; and a table for the other room; and a +saucepan to cook things in; and some bread, and meat, and sugar, and +other things; for she hasn't comfortable things to eat. And one or two +calico dresses, you know; she wants them so much." +</P> + +<P> +The child's face grew excitedly eager. There came a glitter in the +housekeeper's faded blue eye as it looked down upon her. +</P> + +<P> +"But, honey, all these things'll cost a sight o' money." +</P> + +<P> +"I've got money." +</P> + +<P> +"It'll take all you've got." +</P> + +<P> +"But I want to do what I can, Miss Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"I kind o' don't think it's right," said the housekeeper. "Why should +you go a-spendin' all your little savin's upon Sally Eldridge? And it's +only one old woman helped, when all's done; there's lots more. It's +somebody else that ought to do it; 'tain't your work, child." +</P> + +<P> +"But I want to do it, Miss Redwood. And I've got the money." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder how much better she'll be at the end of six months," said the +housekeeper. "Well, you want me to take this job in hand, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you can; if you would be so very good." +</P> + +<P> +"You make me feel as mean as water," said the housekeeper. "It'll take +me a little while to get up any notion o' my goodness again. I suppose +it'll come, with the old pride o' me. I know what the Bible says, but I +kind o' didn't think it meant it; and I've been a makin' myself +comfortable all my days, or workin' for it, and consolin' my conscience +with thinkin' it was no use to help <I>one;</I> but now yours and mine would +make two; and somebody else's would ha' been three. La! child, you make +me ashamed o' myself." +</P> + +<P> +"But Miss Redwood," said Matilda, in much surprise, "you are always +doing something for somebody; I don't know what you mean." +</P> + +<P> +"Not this way, child," said the housekeeper. "I kind o' thought my +money was my own, after I had worked for it." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, so it is." +</P> + +<P> +"And so is your'n your'n; but it looks like as if what was your'n was +the Lord's. And to be sure, that's what the minister is always a +sayin'; but I kind o' thought it was because he was the minister, and +that Sarah Redwood hadn't no call to be just exactly as good as him." +</P> + +<P> +And to Matilda's bewilderment, she saw the corner of Miss Redwood's +apron lifted to wipe off a tear. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, child, make your short-cake!" she began with fresh vigour. +"There's water to wash your hands. Now we must be spry, or the minister +'ll be wanting his tea, and I should feel cheap if it warn't ready. +I've got my lesson, for to-day; and now you shall have your'n. I never +did want many blows of the hammer to drive a nail into me. Here's an +apron for you. Now sift your flour, just as you did for the +gingerbread; and we'll have it baking in no time. Short-cake must be +made in five minutes, or it'll be heavy; and it must bake almost as +quick. Turn it up, dear, with the ends o' your fingers, while I pour +the cream in—just toss it round—don't seem to take hold o' +nothing—kind o' play with it; and yet you must manage to throw the +mixin's together somehow. Yes, that'll do very well, that'll do very +well; you've got a real good hand, light and firm. Now bring it +together, dear, in one lump, and we'll cut it in two pieces and put it +in the pans." +</P> + +<P> +This was done satisfactorily, and the pans were slipped into the hot +oven. Matilda washed her hands, and the housekeeper made neat and swift +preparations for tea. Everything was so nice about her, her kitchen and +pantries were in such a state of order and propriety, and so well +supplied too; it was a pleasure to see her go from one to the other and +bring out what she wanted. Matilda was allowed to take cups, and +plates, and sugar, and butter from her hand, and found it a most +enlivening kind of amusement; especially the placing her own plate and +knife, and seeing it there on Mr. Richmond's tea-table. Then came the +excitement of taking out the short-cake, which had puffed itself up and +browned in the most pleasant manner; and then the minister was called +out to tea. It was an odd little room, between the study and the +kitchen, where they took tea; not big enough for anything but the table +and a convenient passage round it. Two little windows looked out over a +pleasant field, part of which was cultivated as the parsonage garden, +and beyond that, to white palings and neat houses, clustering loosely +in pretty village fashion. Among them, facing on the street which +bordered the parsonage and church grounds at the back, Matilda could +see the brown front of the Academy, where Norton Laval went to school; +and trees mingled their green tops with the house roofs everywhere. The +sun was going down in the bright western sky, which was still beyond +all this, and nothing disagreeable was within sight at all. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you thinking about, Tilly, that you look so hard out of my +windows?" the minister asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, Mr. Richmond. At least—I was thinking, whether you knew +Norton. Norton Laval." +</P> + +<P> +"He comes to the Sunday-school, I think. No, I do not know him very +well. Do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Is he a nice fellow?" +</P> + +<P> +"He is very nice, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"Does he love the Bible as well as you do?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think he knows much about it, Mr. Richmond," Matilda answered, +looking wistful. +</P> + +<P> +"If he is a friend of your's, cannot you help him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do try," said Matilda. "But, Mr. Richmond, you know a boy thinks he +knows about things better than I do, or than any girl does." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Besides, I can't see him now," Matilda added. "I have no chance." And +a cloud came over her face. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Redwood," said the minister, "do you think you can manage a +certain business in Lilac Lane which Matilda had a mind to entrust to +you? I suppose you have been consulting about it." +</P> + +<P> +"Does Mr. Richmond think it'll do much good?" was the housekeeper's +rejoinder. +</P> + +<P> +"Do I think what will do good?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gettin' a new bedstead and fixin's for Sally Eldridge." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know what 'fixin's' are, in this connection," said the +minister. "I have heard of 'light bread and chicken fixings,' at the +South." +</P> + +<P> +"The bread and the chickens are comin' too, for all I know," said the +housekeeper. "I mean sheets, and coverlets, and pillows, and decent +things. She hain't none now." +</P> + +<P> +"I should think she would sleep better," said the minister, gravely. +</P> + +<P> +"Had this child ought to spend her little treasures for to put that old +house in order? It's just sheddin' peas into a basket that has got no +bottom to it." +</P> + +<P> +"So bad as that?" said the minister. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Mr. Richmond knows," the housekeeper went on, "there ain't no +end o' the troubles there is in the world, nor yet o' the poverty; and +Sally Eldridge, she'll be the better maybe, as long as the things last; +but there's all the rest o' Lilac Lane, without speaking of what there +is beside in Shadywalk; and the chilld 'll be without her dollars, and +the world 'll be pretty much where it was." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see but that reasoning would stop my preaching, Miss Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't mean it, sir, I'm sure." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think you mean what you say. What is the use of giving me a +good cup of tea, when so many other people cannot have one at all?" +</P> + +<P> +"The minister knows a cup o' good tea when he sees it," answered the +housekeeper. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond laughed. "But don't you think Sally Eldridge, for +instance, would know a good bed?" +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't no possibilities o' makin' some o' them folks keerful and +thrivin'," said the housekeeper, firmly. "'Tain't in 'em; and what's +the use o' havin' things if folks ain't keerful? Sally Eldridge had her +house respectable once; I mind her very well, when she kept the gate at +Judge Brockenhurst's big place; and she had wages, and her man he had +good wages; and now the peas is all out o' the basket. And is there any +use, buyin' more to put in? The basket 'll never be mended. It'll let +out as fast as it takes in." +</P> + +<P> +"The basket, as you put it, is out of Sally's hands now," Miss Redwood. +"She is one of the helpless ones. Don't you think it would be a good +thing to make her life more comfortable? I think we had better take her +some of this short-cake, Matilda. Miss Redwood, as for you, I shall +expect to hear that you have lamed your arm doing something for her +comfort, or half broken your back carrying a heavy basket to Lilac +Lane, or something of that sort, judging by what I know of you already." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm willin'," said the housekeeper. "But it ain't this child's +business. She hain't no call to give all she's got to Sally Eldridge." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose," said the minister, with a look at Matilda, which both she +and the housekeeper read with their hearts,—"I suppose she is thinking +of the word that will be spoken one day, 'Inasmuch as ye did it unto +one of the least of these,'—'He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth +to the Lord; and that which he hath given will He pay him again'!" +</P> + +<P> +"Then Mr. Richmond thinks it would be a good use of her money?" +</P> + +<P> +"There might possibly be better; but if it is the best she knows, that +is all she can do. I have a great opinion of doing what our hands find +to do, Miss Redwood; if the Lord gives other work, He will send the +means too." +</P> + +<P> +"There's a frame bedstead lyin' up in the loft," said the housekeeper. +"'Tain't no good to any one, and it only wants a new rope to cord it +up; perhaps the minister would let Sally have that; and it would save +so much." +</P> + +<P> +"By all means, let her have that; and anything else we can spare. Now, +Matilda, you and I will go and attend to our other business." +</P> + +<P> +They went back to the study, where the light was growing soft. Mr. +Richmond drew up the blinds of the west window and let in the glow and +colour from a rich sunset sky. He stood looking at it, with the glow +upon his face; and standing so, spoke— +</P> + +<P> +"What was it, Matilda?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda on her part sat down in a chair, and with a face of childish +grave meditation, peered into the great bunch of asparagus with which +Miss Redwood had filled the minister's chimney. She sat in shadow all +over, and answered as if taking out the very secret burden of her heart +for her friend's inspection. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond, I can't do Band work any more. I can't do anything. I +can't do anything at all. You told us to buy up opportunities; but I +have no opportunities now even to buy." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," said the child, slowly. "I am quite sure. I cannot do any +work at all. And I would like it so much." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a bit," said the minister, still looking at the evening glow; +"maybe you are too hasty." +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. Aunt Candy will not let me go out, and I can see nobody." +</P> + +<P> +"Whose servant are you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am Christ's servant," said the child, softly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well. Being His servant, do you want to do His will, or your own?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why—I want to do His will," Matilda answered, speaking a little +slowly. +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't it His will just now that you should be without your old +liberty, and unable to do these things you want to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," Matilda said, rather unwillingly. "I suppose it is." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you willing His will should be done?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond had faced round from the window now, and Matilda met his +look, and did not answer for a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it His will, Mr. Richmond, that I should have no opportunity to do +anything?" +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think? If He had chosen to do it, He could have placed you +in the midst of the fullest opportunity. He <I>has</I> placed you under the +rule of your aunt. Are you willing His will should be done, and as long +as He pleases?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda looked in her friend's face, but it put the question steadily; +and she faltered and burst into tears. +</P> + +<P> +"That is a great question, Tilly," said the minister, kindly. "Is it +yourself you want to please? or the Lord Jesus? He can have these +outside things done by other people, even if you cannot help in them; +but of <I>you</I> the first thing He wants is an obedient child. Will you be +obedient? That is, will you agree to His will?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond—must I be <I>willing</I> to do nothing?" Matilda asked +without uncovering her face. +</P> + +<P> +"If the Lord bids you do nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"But I thought—He bade me—do so many things?" +</P> + +<P> +"So He does; and just now the very first and foremost of them is, that +you should be content with His will." +</P> + +<P> +The daylight had faded sensibly when the next words were spoken, so +many seconds went by before Matilda was ready to speak them. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," she said, after that pause of hidden struggle, "isn't +it very hard?" +</P> + +<P> +"It depends upon how much any one loves the Lord, my dear child. The +more you love Him, the less you want your own will. But you were never +more mistaken in your life, than just now, when you thought He had +taken all your opportunities away." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, what opportunities have I, Mr. Richmond?" said Matilda, lifting +up her face. +</P> + +<P> +"This, for one. Opportunity to be obedient. The Bible says that Christ, +coming here to stand in our place and save us, learned obedience by the +things which He <I>suffered;</I> and I don't know but we must, too." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda looked very hard at her adviser; it was not easy for her to get +at this new thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Cannot you as truly obey, when God says you must be still, as when He +says you must work?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"And in either case, obedience is in the heart—not in the fingers or +the tongue. Isn't it so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"You see one opportunity, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." The answers were very meek. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear child, is that the only one?" +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot go out, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I understand. But in the house. Have you no opportunities to be +patient, for instance?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir!" and a faint colour rose in Matilda's cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"My child, patience is something that, when God's children show, they +always honour Him." +</P> + +<P> +"How, Mr. Richmond?" +</P> + +<P> +"It shows His grace and power in them; for they cannot be truly patient +without His help. And then others see it and acknowledge that there is +reality in religion, and that God's will is beautiful." +</P> + +<P> +"I never thought of that," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you no opportunity to forgive injuries, or unkindness?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, Mr. Richmond!" The answer came from some deep place in +Matilda's heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you use that opportunity well?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think I have, Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, looking very +sorrowful. "I think, instead, I have been hating my——" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Shall that be at an end now?" +</P> + +<P> +"But how can it?" said Matilda. "I get so vexed"—and she wiped away a +tear. "I get <I>so</I> vexed, Mr. Richmond!" +</P> + +<P> +"I am very sorry you have occasion. But you cannot forgive people +<I>unless</I> you have occasion." +</P> + +<P> +"How can I then?" +</P> + +<P> +"By going to Jesus, just as the sick people went to Him in the old +time, and getting cured, as they did. 'If thou canst believe; all +things are possible to him that believeth.'" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda steadied her trembling little lips, and stood listening. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't you opportunities to do kindnesses?" Mr. Richmond then said, +softly. Matilda looked up and bowed her head a little. Perhaps lips +were not ready. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you use <I>them</I> well?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think not, Mr. Richmond—lately." +</P> + +<P> +"You know, you can do kindness indoors as well as out of doors, and to +disagreeable people as well as to nice people. We are commanded to be +followers of God, as dear children." +</P> + +<P> +The tears gathered again. +</P> + +<P> +"See how much kindness you can do. No matter whether it is deserved or +not. That is no part of the question. And have you not opportunity to +learn something?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not going to school," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Nor learning anything at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not much. Not much that is good for anything." +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind. You can do that for God." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, Mr. Richmond; it is not useful enough." +</P> + +<P> +"You do not know how useful it may be." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir, because it isn't that sort of thing. Aunt Candy is making me +learn to mend lace. It is no use at all." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll tell you a secret," said Mr. Richmond. Matilda looked up with +fresh eagerness into his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Whenever the Lord puts you in the way of learning anything, you may be +sure He means you to learn it. He knows the use; and if you neglect the +chance, the next thing will be, you will find He will give you work to +do which you cannot do, because you neglected to learn what He gave you +to learn." +</P> + +<P> +"But mending lace?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care what it is. Yes, mending lace. I don't know what use you +will find for that accomplishment, and you don't; all the same, you +<I>will</I> know, when the time comes; and then you will be very sorry and +mortified to find yourself unable for the work given you, if you +despised your opportunity of preparation. And then it will be too late +to mend that, as well as the lace." +</P> + +<P> +"And is that true of all sorts of things, Mr. Richmond?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of all sorts of things. Whenever the Lord puts a chance of learning +something in your way, you may be quite sure He has a use and a meaning +in it. He has given it to you to do." +</P> + +<P> +"Then all my learning to cook, and do things about the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Mr. Richmond, smiling. "It is not difficult to see a use +for that; is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir—I suppose not," the child said, thoughtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you not opportunities for being thankful too, in the midst of all +these other things?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +But the child stood looking at him with a wistful, intent face, and +wide-open, thoughtful eyes; so sober, and so eager, and so pitiful, +that it made an unconscious plea to the minister's heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," said he; "we have so much to say to our Lord, let us say it." +</P> + +<P> +And they kneeled down, and Mr. Richmond put all Matilda's heart into a +prayer for her, and some of his own. +</P> + +<P> +"I must go now, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said presently after. But she +said it with a much more cheerful tone. +</P> + +<P> +"I shall want to hear how you get on," said Mr. Richmond. "When will +you take tea with me again?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't know, sir. Aunt Candy is always at home." +</P> + +<P> +"And keeps you there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir. Lately. She didn't at first." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I must see about that. I think you must be allowed to come and +see me, at all events. Perhaps you do not know, Matilda, that your +mother in almost the last hour of her life asked me to take care of +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Did she?" Matilda exclaimed, with a wonderful change of voice and +manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. She did. In your aunt's presence." +</P> + +<P> +"And you will, Mr. Richmond?" said the child, a little timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"And I will—while I live myself." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I <I>can</I> come and see you, Mr. Richmond?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think you can. I will see about it." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda gave her friend a good night which was almost joyous, and then +ran out to the kitchen. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Redwood," she said, "did you change your mind again about Mrs. +Eldridge? I thought you agreed, and that you were going to do all that +for me." +</P> + +<P> +"No, child; I hain't changed my mind. I changed it oncet, you know, to +come over to you. I never did go both ways, like a crab." +</P> + +<P> +"But you said at tea——" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I wished the minister'd tell you to keep your money to hum. +'Tain't <I>your</I> work, as I can see, to fit out Sally Eldridge with +notions; it's like enough it's mine, and I'm willin' to take it, and do +it, and see to it. You put your money by, child, against a wet day. +Maybe you'll want it yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you remember, Miss Redwood, what Mr. Richmond repeated at +tea?—'the Lord will pay it again?'" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said the housekeeper, "let the pay come to me, then." +</P> + +<P> +"No," said Matilda, "that won't do. It's my business, Miss Redwood, and +I asked you to do it for me; and I'll give you the money. How much do +you want?" +</P> + +<P> +"I hain't bought the things yet; I don' know; and some of 'em won't +have to be bought, with a little contrivance. I'll spend the least I +kin; and then we'll talk about it." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda gave her an energetic kiss and hurried away. But I am afraid +the housekeeper's apron went up to her eyes again. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII. +</H3> + +<P> +Matilda went home with new strength, and full of the will to do the +very best she could in her hard circumstances. But the next morning's +dousing, and scrubbing, and rubbing down seemed more fierce than ever. +If Matilda ever ventured to say "Oh don't!"—Mrs. Candy was sure to +give her more of what she did not like. She had learned to keep her +tongue still between her teeth. She had learned to wince and be quiet. +But this morning she could hardly be quiet. "Can I help hating Aunt +Candy?" she thought to herself as she went down-stairs. Then she found +Maria full of work for which she wanted more fingers than her own; and +Matilda's were very busy till breakfast time, setting the table, +hulling strawberries, sweeping the hall, making coffee, baking the +biscuit. Both the girls busy, and Maria cross. Breakfast was not +sociable; and Matilda was summoned to go to her aunt's room as soon as +the dishes were put away. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I help it?" thought Matilda. And as she went up the stairs she +prayed for a loving heart, and that this feeling, which was like a +sickness, might be taken away from her. +</P> + +<P> +"What makes you look so meek?" exclaimed Clarissa, as she entered the +room. Mrs. Candy lifted her face to see. +</P> + +<P> +"I like to see children look meek," she said. "That's the way they +should look. Matilda's cold bath is doing her good." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, you are very severe with your cold baths!" said the young lady. +</P> + +<P> +"They did <I>you</I> good once," said her mother. "You need not speak +against them. Matilda is a different child since she has been in my +bath. Here is your lace, Matilda. I am too busy to hear you read this +morning. Take your seat over there, and see how well you can do this; +it's rather a difficult piece." +</P> + +<P> +It was a very difficult piece. Matilda's heart sank when she saw it; +besides that her aunt's words seemed to have taken away all the +meekness she had, and to have stirred up anew all her worst feelings. +She put her hand to her face to hide her eyes, while she prayed afresh +for help and a sweeter spirit. She seemed to be all on edge. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter?" said Mrs. Candy. "Begin your work, child; you'll +want all the time you have got, I warn you. Don't waste your time +idling." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda tried to remember what Mr. Richmond had said the night before, +of the uses of things; and tried to pray quietly while she was taking +up threads in her lace. But remembering and praying made the tears +come; and then she could not see the threads, and that would not do. +</P> + +<P> +By and by she became interested in what her aunt and cousin were saying. +</P> + +<P> +They were unfolding their yesterday's purchases, and talking about what +they were going to do with them. Gauzes, and muslins, and other stuffs +new to Matilda, were laid open on the bed and hung about over the backs +of chairs, and the room looked like a mercer's shop. Here was a +delicate embroidered white muslin; there a rosy gauze; there a black +tissue; here something else of elegant pattern; with ribbands, and +laces, and rufflings, and a great variety of pretty articles. Matilda +thought her aunt and cousin were having a great deal more amusing time +than she had. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you doing, Matilda?" Mrs. Candy's voice said again. +</P> + +<P> +"Looking at Cousin Issa's things, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"Mind your work, child. You will not have that done by dinner-time." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I <I>can't</I>, Aunt Candy." +</P> + +<P> +"You could if you had been industrious. You cannot now, very likely. +But you must finish it before you leave this room." +</P> + +<P> +"It is no use!" said Matilda, throwing the lace down; "I can't <I>near</I> +get it done for dinner. It is very hard, and it will take a great +while!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy waited a moment. +</P> + +<P> +"Pick up your work," she said, "and come here and stand before me, and +beg my pardon." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda felt as if it was impossible to do this. +</P> + +<P> +"Do it, and quickly," said Mrs. Candy; "or your punishment will come +to-morrow morning, child. Do not be foolish. I shall give you something +hot as well as cold, I warn you." +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to Matilda that she could not humble herself to do as she was +bidden; and the struggle was terrible for a minute or two. It shook the +child's whole nature. But the consciousness of the indignity awaiting +her in case of refusal fought with the keen sense of indignity now, and +conquered in time. Matilda picked up her work, came before Mrs. Candy, +and asked her pardon. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," said that lady, tapping her cheek carelessly; "now go and +sit down and behave yourself. The lace must be finished before you +leave my room." +</P> + +<P> +It was a day of sharp trial to Matilda, all the more, perhaps, that it +came after a time of so much relief, and hope, and help. Matilda was +disappointed. She was not a passionate child; but for some hours a +storm of passion filled her heart which she could not control. Her lace +needle went in and out, keeping time to the furious swayings of +indignation and resentment and mortified pride and restless despair. +She was in her aunt's hands; completely in her power; helpless to +change anything; obliged even to swallow her feelings and hide her +displeasure. For a while that morning, Matilda felt as if she would +have given almost anything for the freedom to show her aunt what she +thought of her. She dared not do it, even so much as by a look. She was +forced to keep a quiet face and sit obediently mending her difficult +piece of lace; and the child's heart was in great turmoil. With that, +by and by, there began to mingle whispers of conscience; little +whispers that anger and hatred and ill-will were not right, nor +becoming her profession, nor agreeing at all with that "walking in +love" which Mr. Richmond had spoken of the night before. And sorrow +took its part too among the feelings that were sweeping over and +through her heart; but Matilda could not manage them, nor rule herself, +and she at last longed for the dinner-bell to ring, when her aunt and +cousin would leave her and she would be alone. Lace-mending got on very +slowly; her eyes were often dim, and it hindered her; though she would +not let the tears fall. When the bell rang, and the door was locked +upon her, Matilda's work dropped, and she too herself almost fell upon +her knees in her eagerness to seek and get help. That was what she +prayed for; not that her aunt might grow kind, nor that she might be +somehow separated from her and taken from her rule; but that she might +have help to be right; a heart to love, and bear, and forgive, and be +gentle. Matilda prayed and prayed for that; while her lace lay on the +floor, and the dinner down-stairs was gloomily going on. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter with Matilda to-day?" Maria had inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Only a little impatience of her duties," Mrs. Candy had replied, +quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see what duties she can have, to keep her shut up in your +room," said Maria, hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"No. My dear, there are a great many things you cannot see yet. And +where you cannot see, it is rather wise not to give opinion." +</P> + +<P> +"I have a right to an opinion about my sister, though," said Maria; +"and she isn't getting any good with all your shutting her up." +</P> + +<P> +"There I think differently from you, Maria. Matilda can darn stockings +now in a way I am not ashamed of; much better than you can, I assure +you; and she is going on to learn lace-mending beautifully." +</P> + +<P> +"What use is that to her? I should like to know!" said Maria, +scornfully. +</P> + +<P> +"It may be some use to me," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"You are doing Matilda a great deal of mischief," said Maria. "She is +not the same child she was." +</P> + +<P> +"No, she is not," said Clarissa. "She is a great deal better behaved." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I have taught her to know her place," said Mrs. Candy. "It is a +pity that is what <I>you</I> never were taught, Maria. You are too old now. +I couldn't take a switch to you, and that's the only way." +</P> + +<P> +"You never did to her?" exclaimed Maria, blazing with fury. +</P> + +<P> +"I never did," said Mrs. Candy; "but Matilda knows I would, at a +moment's notice, if necessity came. I may do it yet, but I rather think +I shall have no occasion." +</P> + +<P> +"You are a horrid woman!" exclaimed Maria. "<I>Of use to you</I>. Yes, that +is just what you care about. You want Matilda for a little drudge, to +mend your stockings, I suppose, and darn your lace. You are too mean to +live. If mamma had only known——" +</P> + +<P> +When people get so far as this in a burst of helpless rage, the next +thing usually is tears; and Maria broke down accordingly. Mrs. Candy +and Clarissa finished their dinner and went away. +</P> + +<P> +"One cannot stand much of this sort of thing, mamma," said Clarissa, as +they mounted the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not going to stand much of it," replied Mrs. Candy. "I am rather +glad of this outburst. It gives me the opportunity I wanted." +</P> + +<P> +"What will you do, mamma?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have been thinking for some time what I would do. This just gives me +the opening. I will get rid of this girl." +</P> + +<P> +"And what will you do with her?" +</P> + +<P> +"Let her go learn her sisters' trade; or some other, if she likes. We +do not suit each other, and I am tired of it." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and mamma, though it is so good of you to keep her in this way, +do you know you get no thanks for it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I never looked for thanks," said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"No, but I mean, people do not give you credit for it, mamma. I know +they do not." +</P> + +<P> +"Like enough. Well—I won't ask them." +</P> + +<P> +"And you will keep the little one?" +</P> + +<P> +"She's manageable. Yes, I will keep her. I like the child. She's +pretty, and clever too; and she'll be very nice when she grows up. I'll +keep her. I shall want her some day, when you get married." +</P> + +<P> +"Besides, I suppose people would say ill-natured things if you did not +keep one of them," said Clarissa. "Matilda has a temper; but she minds +you, mamma." +</P> + +<P> +"I have got her in hand pretty well," said Mrs. Candy, as she unlocked +the door. "Well, is that lace done? Not? Let me see. You have not done +a dozen stitches while I have been away!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll do it now," said Matilda; so quietly and with a voice so cleared +of all roughness or ill-temper, that Mrs. Candy after looking at her, +passed on to her seat and said nothing further. +</P> + +<P> +But it cost Matilda some hours yet of patient diligence, before her +task was ended. Then she brought it to her aunt for approval. No fault +was found with it, and she was free to go down-stairs to Maria. Maria +had got out of the weeping mood into dry fury again. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not going to stand it!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you not going to stand?" +</P> + +<P> +"This way of going on. I will not put up with it any longer." +</P> + +<P> +"What can you do, Maria?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll go away. I will! I declare I will. I will not be Aunt Candy's +cook and waiter any longer. I am not going to stand it. She may get her +own dinners—or get a girl." +</P> + +<P> +"But where can we go, Maria? It is no use to talk so. We haven't any +place." +</P> + +<P> +"She may keep you," said Maria; "but I'll go. I can't stand it. I don't +know where. Somewhere! Anywhere would be better than this." +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't live here without you, Maria, you know," said the little +one. "Don't talk so. What has made you angry to-day?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, the way you are served; and the way I am talked to." +</P> + +<P> +"Me?" said Matilda. "Never mind. You and I have a good deal of time for +ourselves, Maria. I shall get along, and I shall not mind so much. +Don't you mind." +</P> + +<P> +"I won't stay and see it," said Maria, stoutly; "nor I won't stay and +bear my part of it." +</P> + +<P> +"I quite agree with you," said Mrs. Candy, walking in from the other +room. The girls were in the kitchen. "I quite agree with you, Maria. It +is as unpleasant for me as it is for you, and you are doing no good to +Matilda. It will be much better for us to separate. I have been +thinking so for some time. You may choose what you will do, and I will +make arrangements. Either you may join Anne and Letitia in town, and +learn the business they are learning; or if you like any other business +better, I will try and arrange it for you. Let me know to-morrow +morning what you decide upon, and I will finish up the matter at once. +I am quite tired of the present state of things, as you say." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy finished her harangue and swept out by the other door. +Nobody had interrupted her, and when she was gone nobody spoke. The two +girls looked at each other, Maria with a face of consternation, Matilda +white with despair. You might have heard a pin fall in the kitchen, +while Mrs. Candy's footsteps sounded in the hall and going up stair +after stair. Then Matilda's head went down on the table. She had no +words. +</P> + +<P> +"The old horrid old thing!" was Maria's exclamation. "She came and +listened in the other room!" +</P> + +<P> +But Matilda did not answer, and there was no relief in the explanation. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't go!" said Maria next. "I won't go, unless I'm a mind to. It's +my mother's house, not hers." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda had no heart to answer such vain words. She knew they were vain. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you speak!" said Maria, impatiently. "Why do you sit like +that?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's no use, Maria," said the little one, without raising her head. +</P> + +<P> +"What is no use? I said I wouldn't go; and I will not, unless I choose. +She can't make me." +</P> + +<P> +"She will!" said Matilda, in a burst of despairing tears. +</P> + +<P> +And she did. Before the week was over, Maria was relieved at her post +in the kitchen and established with a dressmaker, to learn her trade. +But not in Shadywalk. Mrs. Candy thought, she said, that Maria would +have a better chance in a larger town, where there was more work and a +larger connection; so she arranged that she should go to Poughkeepsie. +And thither Maria went, to live and learn, as her aunt remarked. +</P> + +<P> +The change in Matilda's life was almost as great. She had no more now +to do in the work of the house; Mrs. Candy had provided herself with a +servant; and instead of cooking, and washing dishes, and dusting, and +sweeping, Matilda had studies. But she was kept as close as ever. She +had now to write, and cipher, and study French verbs, and read pages of +history. Clarissa was her mistress in all these, and recitations went +on under the eye of Mrs. Candy. Matilda's life was even a more busy one +than it had been before. Her lessons were severe, and were required in +perfection; she was forced to give many hours a day to the preparing of +them; and these hours were always in the afternoon and evening. The +mornings were spent still in Mrs. Candy's room. When the art of darning +lace was mastered, her aunt decided that it was good for her to learn +all kinds of sewing. Clarissa and her mother were engaged in making up +a quantity of dresses out of the materials they had purchased in New +York; and Matilda was set to run up breadths of skirts, till she could +do that thoroughly; then she was made to cover cord, by the scores of +yards, and to hem ruffles, and to gather them, and to sew on bindings, +and then to sew on hooks and eyes; and then to make button-holes. The +child's whole morning now was spent in the needle part of +mantua-making. After dinner came arithmetic, and French exercises, and +reading history; and the evening was the time for reciting. Matilda was +too tired when she went up to bed to do more than look at a verse or +two in her Bible, and make a very short prayer; she almost dropped +asleep while she was doing that. However, in the morning she had a +little time now, not having to go down to get breakfast; but the long +lessons before her were a sore temptation to cut short her Bible +reading. Nevertheless Matilda would not cut it short. It was the +child's one happy time in all the day. The rest was very heavy, except +only as the sweetness of Bible words and thoughts abode with her and +came up to her, bringing comfort and giving energy. She was trying with +all her might to buy up her opportunities. She studied her lessons as +if that were the only thing in the world to do; and in the hours of +sewing, Mrs. Candy found her a most excellent help; quick, and neat, +and skilful, and very apt to learn. Matilda was learning fast many +things; but the most precious of all were, to be silent, to be patient, +to be kind, and to do everything with an endeavour to please God in it. +Her little face grew pale with confinement and steady work; it grew +fine also with love and truth. It grew gentle with the habit of +gentleness, and sweet with the habit of forgiving. But all the while it +grew pale. She was very lonely and unspeakably sad, for such a child. +Her aunt kept her too close; gave her no liberty at all; even on +Sundays she had put a stop to the little Bible readings in the +Sunday-school, by not letting Matilda go till the regular school time. +She never went to Lilac Lane; never to Mrs. Laval's. She did go +sometimes to the parsonage; for Mr. Richmond had managed it—Matilda +did not know how; and once she had met Norton in the street and told +him how things were with her, at which he was intensely and very +gratifyingly displeased. But his displeasure could not help. The weeks +went steadily on with a slow grinding power, as it felt to Matilda. +There seemed to be less and less of her every week, to judge by her own +sensations. Less spirit and spring; less hope and desire; less strength +and pleasure. Work was grinding her down, she thought—work and +discipline. She was getting to be a little machine that her aunt +managed at pleasure; and it did not seem to herself that it was really +Matilda Englefield any longer. She was a different somebody. And that +was in a measure true. Yet the work doing was more and better than she +knew. It was not all lace-mending, and mantua-making, and learning +rules of arithmetic and French verbs. The child was growing pale, it is +true; she was also growing strong-hearted in a new way. Not in the way +of passion, which is not strong; but in the way of patience. +Self-command was making her worth twice as much as she ever had been in +her life before. Matilda constantly did what she would rather not, and +did it well. She sewed when she would have liked to do something else; +she studied when she was tired; she obeyed commands that were hateful +to her; she endured from her aunt what her child's heart regarded as +unspeakable indignities and disagreeablenesses; and she bore them, she +was forced to bear them, without a murmur, without a sign of what she +felt. More than that. Since her last recorded talk with Mr. Richmond, +Matilda had been striving to bear and to do without anger or +impatience; she had prayed a great deal about it; and now it was +getting to be a matter of course to oppose gentleness and a meek heart +to all the trials that came upon her. In proportion as this was true, +they grew easier to bear; far less hard and heavy; the sting seemed to +be going out of them. Nevertheless the struggle and the sorrow and the +confinement made the child's face grow thin and pale. Mrs. Candy said +it was the hot weather. +</P> + +<P> +July and August passed in this manner; and then September. This last +month was the hardest of all; for Mr. Richmond was away from Shadywalk, +on some business which kept him nearly all the month. +</P> + +<P> +Towards the end of it, Matilda coming back one afternoon from doing an +errand, was met suddenly near the corner by Norton Laval. +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda!" he exclaimed, seizing both her hands. "Now I have got you. +Where have you been?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nowhere." +</P> + +<P> +"What have you been doing?" +</P> + +<P> +"A great many things, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"I should think you had! Why haven't you been to see mamma? She has +wanted to see you. Come now." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, I can't, Norton! I can't. I must go right home." +</P> + +<P> +"Come after you have gone home." +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't get leave," Matilda whispered. +</P> + +<P> +"Leave?" said Norton. "Whose leave can't you get? That——" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, never mind, Norton; I can't. I would come if I could." And +Matilda's eyes bore witness. +</P> + +<P> +"Who hinders?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Candy. Hush! don't tell I said so." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't tell!" said Norton, in a very incensed tone. "Why, are you +afraid of her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mustn't stop, Norton. I must go home." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you <I>afraid</I> of anybody, Pink?" he said, holding her fast. "Is +that why you can't get out?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda's face changed, and her lip quivered, and she did not answer. +</P> + +<P> +"And what has made you grow so thin? What ails you?" pursued the boy, +impetuously. "You are thin and blue." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda. "Aunt Candy says it is the hot weather. O +Norton, dear, don't keep me!" +</P> + +<P> +"What have you got there?" +</P> + +<P> +"Something Aunt Candy sent me to buy." +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't she send a cart to fetch it?" said the boy, taking the +bundle out of Matilda's hand. "Where have you been after this?" +</P> + +<P> +"To Mr. Chester's." +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't you tell Chester to send it home? He sends mamma's things. +He'd have sent it." +</P> + +<P> +"I couldn't, Norton. Aunt Candy told me to bring it myself." +</P> + +<P> +"What sort of a person is she? your aunt, who keeps you so close? She +ain't much count, is she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh hush, Norton!" said Matilda. "Don't, somebody will hear you." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you like her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not like to talk about her, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Is she good to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't ask me, Norton, please. Now we are almost there; please let me +have the bundle. I don't want you to come to the house." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda looked so earnest, Norton gave her bundle up without another +word, and stood looking after her till she had got into the house. Then +he turned and went straight to his mother and told her the whole story; +all he knew, and all he didn't know. +</P> + +<P> +The end of which was, that the next day Mrs. Laval called to see Mrs. +Candy. +</P> + +<P> +Now this was particularly what Mrs. Candy had wished to bring about, +and did not know how. She went to the parlour with secret exultation, +and an anxious care to make the visit worth all it could be. No doubt +Mrs. Laval had become convinced by what she had seen and heard, that +Mrs. Candy and her daughter were not just like everybody else, and +concluded them to be fit persons for her acquaintance. But yet the two +confronted each other on unequal ground. Mrs. Candy was handsomely +dressed, no doubt; from her cap to her shoe, everything had cost money +enough; "why can't I throw it on like that?" was her uneasy mental +reflection the minute after she was seated. She felt as if it clung +about her like armour; while her visitor's silks and laces fell about +her as carelessly as a butterfly's wings; as if they were part of +herself indeed. And her speech, when she spoke, it had the same easy +grace—or the carelessness of power; was it that? thought Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +She had come to ask a favour, Mrs. Laval said. Mrs. Candy had a little +niece, whom her boy Norton had become very fond of. Mrs. Laval had come +to beg for the possession of this little niece as long at least as a +good long visit might be made to extend. +</P> + +<P> +"Three or four days, for instance?" said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no! that would be nothing. Three or four weeks." +</P> + +<P> +She is very much at her ease! thought Mrs. Candy. Shall I let her have +her will? +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy was in a quandary. She did not like to refuse; she coveted +Mrs. Laval's notice; and this visit of Matilda's might be the means, +perhaps, of securing it. Then, also, she and her daughter had in +contemplation a journey to Philadelphia, and a visit there for their +own part; and it had been a question what they should do with Matilda. +To take her along would make necessary a good deal of fitting up, as a +preliminary; Matilda's wardrobe being in no readiness for such a +journey. Truth to tell, it was not very proper for a visit to Mrs. +Laval either; but Mrs. Candy reflected that it would cost much less on +the whole to leave her than to take her, and be really very much a +saving of trouble. Any loss of discipline, she remembered, could be +quickly made up; and the conclusion of the whole was that she accepted +Mrs. Laval's invitation, with no more than a few minutes of hesitation +during which all these thoughts passed through her mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you," said that lady. "May I have her to-morrow?" +</P> + +<P> +"To-morrow. H'm," said Mrs. Candy. "I am afraid not to-morrow. I should +wish to make a little preparation, before the child goes to make such a +visit. She has been nowhere but at home this summer." +</P> + +<P> +"Let me beg that you will not wait for any such matter," said Mrs. +Laval. "Send her to me just as she is. I have particular reasons for +liking her to come to me immediately. If she needs anything, trust me +to supply it. Shall she come to-morrow?" +</P> + +<P> +You <I>do</I> take a good deal for granted very easily! thought Mrs. Candy. +Then aloud— +</P> + +<P> +"I should like to fit her up a little first The child has not been away +from home, and in mourning——" +</P> + +<P> +"Won't you trust me to see that she does not want for anything? I +assure you, I will not neglect my charge." +</P> + +<P> +"You are very kind," said Mrs. Candy; while she thought in her heart, +You are very presuming! +</P> + +<P> +"Then you will indulge me?" said Mrs. Laval, graciously. +</P> + +<P> +"If it must be so," said Mrs. Candy, doubtful. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you!" said her visitor. "My errand is my excuse for troubling +you this morning—and so early!" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy felt a twinge. She had not thought it was early; she had not +thought about it. +</P> + +<P> +"Your place is looking beautiful," she said, as her visitor rose. "It +is the prettiest place in Shadywalk." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I am not in Shadywalk," said Mrs. Laval. "I am on the Millbrook. +Yes, it is pretty; but it is terribly hard to get servants. They won't +come from New York, and there are none here." +</P> + +<P> +"Not many good ones," Mrs. Candy assented. +</P> + +<P> +"None that will do for me. I am in despair. I have engaged a Swiss +family at last. I expect them to arrive very soon." +</P> + +<P> +"From New York?" +</P> + +<P> +"In New York. They are coming to me from Vevay. Father, mother, and two +daughters; and I believe a boy too. They will know nothing except +farmwork, when they come; but they do make excellent servants, and so +trustworthy." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you want so many?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will find use for them. To-morrow then. Thank you. Good morning." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Candy stood, looking after her visitor. She was so elegantly +dressed, and her veil was of such rich lace. She must want a goodly +number of women in her household, Mrs. Candy allowed to herself, if she +often indulged in dresses of fine muslin ruffled like that. And Mrs. +Candy sighed. One must have money for those things, she reflected; and +not a good deal of money, but a great deal. A good deal would not do. +Mrs. Candy sighed again and went in, thinking that Matilda's not going +this journey with her would save her quite a pretty penny. Matilda as +yet knew nothing of what had been in her aunt's mind respecting +Philadelphia, or Mrs. Laval either. It had all the force of a surprise +when Mrs. Candy called her and told her to pack up her clothes for +leaving home. +</P> + +<P> +"All my clothes, aunt Erminia?" +</P> + +<P> +"You will want them all. Issa and I are going on a journey that will +take us a little while—and I am going to leave you in somebody's care +here; so put out whatever you will want for a couple of weeks." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda wanted to ask with whom she was to be left; but that would come +in time. It would be somebody not her aunt, at any rate; and she went +to her room and began laying oat her clothes with fingers that trembled +with delight. Presently Mrs. Candy came in. She sat down and surveyed +Matilda's preparations. On one chair there was a neat little pile of +underclothes; on two others were similar neat little piles of frocks; +some things beside were spread over the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Those are all the dresses you have got, eh?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all, aunt Candy. Here are my calicoes for every day, and those +are the rest; my blue spot, and my black gingham and my white. They are +all clean." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Mrs. Candy. "Well—I guess you don't want to take these +calicoes; they are pretty well worn, and you haven't any work to do +now-a-days. The others won't be too nice to wear, till I come home." +</P> + +<P> +"Every day?" asked Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, every day. There are not quite enough; but you must be careful +and not soil them, and so make them do. There is not time to make any +now, or I would get you one or two. I meant to do it." +</P> + +<P> +"When are you going, aunt Candy?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>You</I> are going to-morrow. So make haste, and pack up everything you +want, Matilda. I do not know whether you can do with those three +frocks?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, I will keep them clean," said the child, in her joy. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I believe you can," said Mrs. Candy. "Now make haste, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +It was such glad work. Matilda made haste in her eagerness, and then +pulled out things and packed them over again because it was not well +done the first time. Where was she going, she wondered? Mr. Richmond +was away from home still, or she should have heard more about it. +Meanwhile her clothes went into the little trunk her aunt had made over +to her, and her Bible was packed in a secure corner; her best boots +were wrapped up and put in, and her brush and comb. Then Matilda +remembered she would want these yet, and took them out again. She +hesitated over her book of French verbs and her arithmetic, but finally +stuck them into the trunk. It was not near full when all was done; but +Matilda's heart had not a bit of spare room in it. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX. +</H3> + +<P> +The next day rose very bright and fair. Matilda had been sadly afraid +it would rain; but no such matter; the sun looked and smiled over the +world as if slyly wishing her joy on her good prospects. Matilda took +it so, and got ready for breakfast with a heart leaping with delight. +She had got no more news yet as to where she was going; but after +breakfast Mrs. Candy made her dress herself in the gingham and put on +her best boots, which made the little trunk all the emptier; and the +trunk itself was locked. Things were in this state, and Matilda mending +lace in her aunt's room; when Mrs. Candy's maid of all work put her +head in. +</P> + +<P> +"The carriage has come, mum," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"What carriage?" said Mrs. Candy. +</P> + +<P> +"Meself doesn't know, then. The bi says he's come fur to get the chilt." +</P> + +<P> +"What boy?" said Mrs. Candy, in growing astonishment. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, an' I haven't been here long enough fur to know all the bi's of +the village. He's the bi that come wid the carriage, anyhow, an' it's +the chilt he's wanting. An' it's the iligantest carriage you ever see +in your life; and two iligant grey horses, an' a driver." +</P> + +<P> +Mother and daughter looked at each other. The lace had fallen from +Matilda's hands to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he give no name?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's just what he didn't, then. Only he jumped down, and axed was the +chilt ready. I tould him sure I didn't know, and he said would I go +see. An' what 'll I say to him, thin? for he's waitin'." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll speak to him myself," said Mrs. Candy. "Go on with your work, +Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +But in a few minutes she came back, and bade the trembling child put up +her lace and put on her hat, and go. I am afraid the leave-taking was a +short affair; for two minutes had hardly passed when Matilda stood in +the hall, and Norton caught her by both hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I've come for you. Come, Matilda, your trunk's in." +</P> + +<P> +"Where are we going?" Matilda asked, as she let herself be led and +placed in the carriage, which was a low basket phaeton. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are we going!" echoed Norton. "Where is it likely we are going, +with you and your trunk? Where did you mean to go to-day, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. I didn't know anything about it. O Norton, are we going +to your house!" +</P> + +<P> +"If Tom knows the road," said Norton, coolly; "and I rather think the +ponies do, if he don't. Why, Pink! do you mean to tell me you didn't +know you were coming to us?" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know a word about it." +</P> + +<P> +"Nor how mamma went to ask for you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Aunt Candy didn't tell me." +</P> + +<P> +"Did she tell you you were going anywhere?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. She made me pack up my clothes, but that's all." +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't you ask her?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda shook her head. "I never do ask Aunt Candy anything." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" said Norton, curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like to—and she don't like to have me." +</P> + +<P> +"She must be a nice woman to live with," said Norton. "You'll miss her +badly, I should say. Aren't you sorry, Pink?" he asked, suddenly, +taking Matilda's chin in his hand to watch the answer she would give. +The answer, all smiling and blushing, contented Norton; and the next +instant the gray ponies swept in at the iron gate and brought them +before the house door. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda jumped out of the carriage with a feeling of being in an +impossible dream. But her boot felt the rough gravel of the roadway; +the sun was shining still and warm on the lawn and the trees; the +mid-country, rich-coloured with hues of autumn, lay glittering in +light; the blue hills were over against her sleeping in haze; the gray +ponies were trotting off round the sweep, and had left her and Norton +standing before the house. It was all real and not a dream; and she +turned to Norton who was watching her, with another smile so warm and +glad, that the boy's face grew bright to see it. And then there was +Mrs. Laval, coming out on the verandah. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear child!" she exclaimed, folding Matilda in her arms. "My dear +child! I have had hard work to get you; but here you are." +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, she did not know she was coming," said Norton, "till I came for +her." +</P> + +<P> +"Not know it?" said Mrs. Laval, holding her back to look at her. "Why, +child, you have grown thin!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's the hot weather, Aunt Candy says." +</P> + +<P> +"And pale!" said Mrs. Laval. "Yes, you have; pale and thin. Have you +been ill?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am," said Matilda; but her eyes were watering now in very +gladness and tenderness. +</P> + +<P> +"Not ill?" said the lady. "And yet you are changed,—I do not know how; +it isn't all thinness, or paleness. What is the matter with you, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing—only I am so glad," Matilda managed to say, as Mrs. Laval's +arms again came round her. The eyes of mother and son met expressively. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like to see people cry for gladness," whispered the lady. +"That is being entirely too glad. Let us go and see where you are to +live while you are with me. Norton, send York up with her box." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda shook herself mentally, and went up-stairs with Mrs. Laval. +Such easy, soft-going stairs! and then the wide light corridor with its +great end window; and then Mrs. Laval went into a room which Matilda +guessed was her own, and through that passed to another, smaller, but +large enough still, where she paused. +</P> + +<P> +"You shall be here," she said; "close by me; so that you cannot feel +lonely." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I could not feel lonely," cried Matilda. "I have a room by myself +at home." +</P> + +<P> +"But not far away from other people, I suppose. Your sister is near +you, is she not?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Maria is gone, long ago." +</P> + +<P> +"Gone? What, entirely? Not out of the village?" +</P> + +<P> +"She is in Poughkeepsie. I have not seen her in a great many weeks." +</P> + +<P> +"Was that her own wish?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, ma'am; she was very sorry to go." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you must have been very sorry too. Now, dear, here are drawers +for you; and see, here is a closet for hanging up things; and here is +your washing closet with hot and cold water; the hot is the right hand +one of these two faucets. And I hope you will be happy here, darling." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke very kindly; so kindly that Matilda did not know how to +answer. I suppose her face answered for her; for Mrs. Laval, instead of +presently leading the way down-stairs again, sat down in a chair by one +of the windows and drew Matilda into her arras. She took off her hat, +and smoothed away the hair from her forehead, and looked in her face, +with eyes that were curiously wistful and noteful of her. And Matilda's +eyes, wondering, went over the mid-country to the blue mountains, as +she thought what a new friend God had given her. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you well, dear?" said the lady's voice in her ear softly. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite well, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"What has changed you so since last June?" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't know that I was changed," Matilda said, wondering again. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you happy, my love?" +</P> + +<P> +The question was put very softly, and yet Matilda started and looked +into Mrs. Laval's eyes to see what her thought was. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said the lady, smiling; "I asked you if you were quite happy. +How is it?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda's eyes went back to the blue mountains. How much ought she to +tell? +</P> + +<P> +"I think—I suppose—I ought to be happy," she said at last. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you always try to do what you think you ought to do; isn't +that so?" +</P> + +<P> +"I <I>try</I>," said Matilda in a low voice. +</P> + +<P> +"How happens it, then, dear, that you do not succeed in being happy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda. "I suppose I should, if I were quite +good." +</P> + +<P> +"If you were quite good. Have you so many things to make you happy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think I have." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell them to me," said Mrs. Laval, pressing her cheek against +Matilda's hair in caressing fashion; "it is pleasant to talk of one's +pleasant things, and I should like to hear of yours. What are they, +love?" +</P> + +<P> +What did the lady mean? Matilda hesitated, but Mrs. Laval was quietly +waiting for her to speak. She had her arms wrapped round Matilda, and +her face rested against her hair, and so she was waiting. It was plain +that Matilda must speak. Still she waited, uncertain how to frame her +words, uncertain how they would be understood; till at last the +consciousness that she had waited a good while, drove her to speak +suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, ma'am," she said, "the first thing is, that I belong to the Lord +Jesus Christ." +</P> + +<P> +The lady paused now in her turn, and her voice when she spoke was +somewhat husky. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the next thing, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then, I know that God is my Father." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on," said the lady, as Matilda was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Well—that is it," said Matilda. "I belong to the Lord Jesus; and I +love Him, and I know He loves me; and He takes care of me, and will +take care of me; and whatever I want I ask Him for, and He hears me." +</P> + +<P> +"And does He give you whatever you ask for?" said the lady, in a tone +again changed. +</P> + +<P> +"If He don't, He will give me something better," was the answer. +</P> + +<P> +Maybe Mrs. Laval might have taken up the words from some lips. But the +child on her lap spoke them so quietly, her face was in such a sweet +rest of assurance, and one little hand rose and fell on the window-sill +with such an unconscious glad endorsement of what she said, that the +lady was mute. +</P> + +<P> +"And this makes you happy?" she said, at length. +</P> + +<P> +"Sometimes it does," answered Matilda. "I think it ought always." +</P> + +<P> +"But, my dear little creature, is there nothing else in all the world +to make you feel happy?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda's words were not ready. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," she said. "Sometimes I think there isn't. They're all +away." +</P> + +<P> +The last sentence was given with an unconscious forlornness of +intonation which went to her friend's heart. She clasped Matilda close +at that, and covered her with kisses. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't feel so here?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +But the child's answer was in pantomime. For she had clung to Mrs. +Laval as the lady had clasped her; and Matilda's head nestling in her +neck and softly returning a kiss or two, gave assurance enough. +</P> + +<P> +"All away?" said Mrs. Laval. "Well, I think that too sometimes. You and +I ought to belong to each other." +</P> + +<P> +And then presently, as if she were shaking off all these serious +reflections, she bade Matilda arrange her things comfortably in closet +and drawers; and then when she liked, come down to her. So she went +out, and the man with the little trunk came in and set it in a corner. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda felt in dreamland. It was only like dreamland, to take out her +things, which a few hours ago she had packed in the dismal precincts of +her aunt's house, and place them in such delightful circumstances as +her new quarters afforded. The drawers of her dressing-table were a +marvel of beauty, being of a pale sea-green colour, with rosebuds +painted in the corners. Her little bedstead was of the same colour and +likewise adorned; and so the chairs, and a small stand which held a +glass of flowers. The floor was covered with a pretty white mat, and +light muslin curtains lined with rose, hung before the windows. The +spread on her bed was a snow white Marseilles quilt, Matilda knew that; +and the washing closet was sumptuous in luxury, with its ample towels +and its pretty cake of sweet fragrant soap. Every one of these things +Matilda took note of, as she was obeying Mrs. Laval's advice to put her +things in some order before she came down-stairs. And she was thinking, +also, what 'opportunities' she could possibly have here. There would be +nothing to try her patience or her temper; nothing disagreeable, in +fact, except the thought of going away again. How could she ever bear +<I>that?</I> And then it occurred to Matilda that certainly she had +opportunity and occasion to give thanks; and she knelt down and did it +very heartily; concluding as she rose up, that she would leave the +question of going away till it came nearer the time. +</P> + +<P> +She went with a light heart downstairs then; how odd it was to be at +home in that house, going up and down with her hat off! She passed +through one or two rooms, and found Mrs. Laval at last in a group of +visitors, busy talking to half a dozen at once. Matilda stole out +again, wondering at the different Mrs. Laval down-stairs from the one +who had sat with her in her little room half an hour ago. On the +verandah she met Norton. He greeted her eagerly, and drew her round the +house to a shady angle where they sat down on two of the verandah +chairs. +</P> + +<P> +"Now what shall we do this afternoon?" said Norton. "What would you +like?" +</P> + +<P> +"I like everything. Oh, I like everything!" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but <I>this</I> is nothing," said Norton. "Shall we go take a long +drive?" +</P> + +<P> +"If Mrs. Laval goes—I should like it very much." +</P> + +<P> +"If she don't go, we will," said Norton. "The roads are in good order, +and the ponies want exercise. I don't believe mamma will go, for she is +expecting a whole shipload of servants, and Francis will have to go to +the station for them." +</P> + +<P> +"Then he will want the horses, won't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not the ponies. He will get somebody's great farm waggon, to bring up +all their goods and things. You and I will go driving, Pink." +</P> + +<P> +"Will <I>you</I> drive?" asked Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda thought more than ever that she was in fairyland. She sat +musing over her contentment, when Norton broke in again. +</P> + +<P> +"You are very fond of that aunt of yours, aren't you?" +</P> + +<P> +It was a point blank question. Matilda waited, and then softly said +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Not?" said Norton. "That's funny. Hasn't she done everything in the +world to make you love her?" +</P> + +<P> +"Please, Norton," said Matilda, "I would rather not talk about her." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not, Pink?" said Norton, showing his white teeth. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't enjoy it." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you?" said Norton. "That's funny again. I should think you +would." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" said Matilda, curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"There's so much to say, that's one thing. And then she's so good to +you." +</P> + +<P> +"Who told you she was so good to me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can see it in your face." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda sat silent, wondering what he meant. +</P> + +<P> +"You can always tell," said Norton. "People can't hide things. I can +see she has been doing no end of kindnesses to you all summer long. +That has made you so fond of her." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda was puzzled and sat silent, not knowing what it was best to +say; and Norton watching her stealthily saw a wistful little face, +tender and pure, and doubtful, that just provoked caresses. He dropped +what was in his hands and fairly took possession of Matilda, kissing +the pale cheeks, as if she were his own particular plaything. It was +unlike most boys, but Norton Laval was independent and manly above most +boys. Matilda was astonished. +</P> + +<P> +"Drive? to be sure we will drive," said Norton, as he let her go. "We +will drive all over creation." +</P> + +<P> +The visitors went away just at this juncture, and the children were +called in to dinner. And after dinner Norton made some of his words +good. Mrs. Laval was not going out; she gave leave to Norton to do what +he pleased, and he took Matilda to drive in the basket phaeton. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton," she said, as they were just setting forth. +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you would just as lieve, I wish you wouldn't, please, go past Aunt +Candy's." +</P> + +<P> +"Not go past?" said Norton. "Why, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you would just as lieve, I would rather not." +</P> + +<P> +Norton nodded, and they took another way. But now this was better than +fairyland. Fairyland never knew such a drive, surely. The afternoon was +just right, as Norton had said; there was no dust, and not too much +sun; the roads were in fine order; and they bowled along as if the +ponies had had nothing to do in a great while. Now it was hardly within +the memory of Matilda to have seen the country around Shadywalk as she +saw it this afternoon. Every house had the charm of a picture; every +tree by the roadside seemed to be planted for her pleasure. The meadows +and fields of stubble and patches of ploughed land, were like pieces of +a new world to the long housed child. Norton told her to whom these +fields belonged, which increased the effect, and gave bits of family +history, as he knew it, connected with the names. These meadows +belonged to such a gentleman; his acres counted so many; were good for +so much; taken capital care of. Here were the fields and woods of +such-a-one's farm; <I>he</I> kept cows and sent milk to New York. That house +among the trees was the homestead of one of the old county families; +the place was beautiful; Matilda would see it some day with Mrs. Laval; +that little cottage by the gate was only a lodge. Matilda desired to +know what a lodge was; and upon the explanation, and upon many more +details correlative and co-related, went into musings of her own. But +the sky was so fair and blue; the earth was so rich and sunny; the +touches of sear or yellow leaves here and there on a branch gave such +emphasis to the deep hues still lingering on the vegetation; the +phaeton wheels rolled so smoothly; that Matilda's musings did not know +very well what course to keep. +</P> + +<P> +"Well what are you thinking of?" said Norton after a silence of some +time. +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of Lilac Lane, just then." +</P> + +<P> +"Lilac Lane! Do you want to see it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Very much, Norton," said Matilda, gleefully; "but not this afternoon. +I haven't been there in a great, great while." +</P> + +<P> +"I should not think you would want to be ever there again. I can't see +why." +</P> + +<P> +"But then what would become of the poor people?" +</P> + +<P> +"They do not depend upon you," said Norton. "It is not <I>your</I> look-out." +</P> + +<P> +"But—I suppose," Matilda said, slowly, "I suppose, everybody depends +upon somebody." +</P> + +<P> +"Well?" said Norton, laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"You needn't laugh, though, Norton; because, if everybody depends upon +somebody, <I>then</I>, everybody has somebody depending upon him, I suppose." +</P> + +<P> +"Who depends upon you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda. "I wish I did." +</P> + +<P> +"Not Mrs. Old-thing there, at any rate. And how can anybody tell, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Matilda; "and so it seems to me the best way would +be to act as if everybody depended on you; and then you would be sure +and make no mistake." +</P> + +<P> +"You would be making mistakes the whole time," said Norton. "It would +be all one grand mistake." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but it cannot be a mistake, Norton,"—she stopped suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"What cannot be a mistake?" +</P> + +<P> +"It cannot be a mistake, to do anything that God has given you to do." +</P> + +<P> +"How can you tell?" said Norton. "It's all like a Chinese puzzle. How +can you tell which piece fits into which?" +</P> + +<P> +"But if every piece fitted, then the pattern would be all right," said +Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Norton, laughing; "but that is what I say! How can you +tell?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond says, that whenever we have an opportunity to do anything +or to learn anything, the Lord means that we should use it." +</P> + +<P> +"I have a nice opportunity to turn you over on these rocks and smash +the carriage to pieces; but I don't mean to do it." +</P> + +<P> +"You know what I mean, Norton; nobody has an opportunity to do wrong. I +mean, you know, an opportunity to do anything good." +</P> + +<P> +"Well now, Pink," said Norton, drawing the reins a little, and letting +the ponies come to an easy walk,—"see what that would end in. As long +as people have got money, they have got opportunities. I suppose that +is what you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Matilda. "That is part." +</P> + +<P> +"Well. We might go on and help all the people in Lilac Lane, mightn't +we? and then we could find plenty more to help somewhere else; and we +could go on, using our opportunities, till we had nothing to live upon +our selves. That is what it must come to, if you don't stop somewhere. +We should have to sell the carriages and the ponies, and keep two or +three servants instead of eight; and mamma would have to stop wearing +what she wears now; and by and by we should want help ourselves. How +would you like that? Don't you see one must stop somewhere?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said Matilda. "But what puzzles me is, where ought one to stop? +Mr. Richmond says we ought to use all our opportunities." +</P> + +<P> +"If we can," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"But, Norton, what we <I>can't</I>, is not an opportunity." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a fact!" said Norton, laughing. "I didn't know you were so +sharp, Pink." +</P> + +<P> +"I should like to ask Mr. Richmond more about it," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Ask common sense!" said Norton. "Well, you don't want to go to Lilac +Lane to-day. Is there anywhere you do want to go?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Oh yes, Norton. I <I>should</I> like to stop and see if Mr. Richmond +has got home, and to ask Miss Redwood a question. If you would just as +lieve." +</P> + +<P> +"Where does Miss Redwood live?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she is Mr. Richmond's housekeeper." +</P> + +<P> +"All right," said Norton. And then the gray ponies trotted merrily on, +crossed a pretty bridge over a stream, and turned their faces westward. +By and by the houses of the village began scatteringly to appear; then +the road grew into a well-built up street; the old cream-coloured +church with its deep porch hove in sight; and the ponies turned just +short of it and trotted up the lane to the parsonage door. Norton +jumped down and tied the horses, and helped Matilda out of the carriage. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going in?" she asked. But it appeared that Norton was going +in. So he pulled the iron knocker, and presently Miss Redwood came to +the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he's home," she said, almost before they could ask her; "but he +ain't at home. I 'spect he'll take his meals now standin' or runnin' +for the next six weeks. That's the way he has to pay for rest, when he +gets it, which ain't often neither. It tires me, just to see him go; +I'll tell him you called." +</P> + +<P> +"But mayn't we come in, Miss Redwood? just for a minute?" +</P> + +<P> +"La, yes, child," said the housekeeper, making way for them; "come in, +both on ye. I didn't s'pose you was wantin' me; I've got out o' the way +of it since the minister's been away; my callers has fell off somehow. +It's odd, there don't one in twenty want to see me when I'm alone in +the house, and could have time in fact to speak to 'em. That's the way +things is in the world; there don't nothin' go together that's well +matched, 'cept folks' horses; and they 're out o' my line. Come in, and +tell me what you want to say. Where have ye come from?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have been having a delightful ride, Miss Redwood, ever so far, +farther than ever I went before." +</P> + +<P> +"Down by Mr. James's place and the mill, and round by Hillside," Norton +explained. +</P> + +<P> +The housekeeper opened her pantry and brought out a loaf of rich +gingerbread, yet warm from the oven, which she broke up and offered to +the children. +</P> + +<P> +"It's new times, I 'spect, ain't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's new times to have such good gingerbread," said Norton. "This is +prime." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you ever made it since I showed ye?" Miss Redwood asked Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"No—only once—I hadn't time." +</P> + +<P> +"When a child like you says she hain't time to play, somebody has got +something that don't belong to him," said the housekeeper. +</P> + +<P> +"O Miss Redwood, I wanted to know, what about Lilac Lane?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Did you do as you said you would? you know, last time I asked you, you +hadn't got the things together." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I know," said the housekeeper. "Well, I've fixed it." +</P> + +<P> +"You did all as we said we would have it?" exclaimed Matilda, eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"As you said <I>you</I> would have it. 'Twarn't much of it my doing, child. +Yes; Sally Eldridge don't know herself." +</P> + +<P> +"Was she pleased?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, 'pleased' ain't to say much. I got Sabriny Rogers to clean the +house first. They thought I was crazy, I do believe. '<I>Clean</I> that 'ere +old place?' says she. 'Why, yes,' says I; 'don't it want cleanin'?' +'But what on airth's the use?' says she. 'Well,' says I, 'I don't know; +but we'll try.' So she went at it; and the first day she didn't do no +more than to fling her file round, and you could see a spot where it +had lighted; that's all. 'Sabriny,' says I, 'that ain't what we call +cleanin' in <I>my</I> country; and if I pay you for cleanin' it's all I'll +do; but I'll not pay nobody for just lookin' at it.' So next time it +was a little better; and then I made her go over the missed places, and +we got it real nice by the time I had done. And then Sally looked like +somethin' that didn't belong there, and we began upon <I>her</I>. She was +wonderful taken up with seein' Sabriny and the scrubbin' brush go +round; and then she begun to cast eyes down on herself, as if she +wished it could reform her. Well, I did it all in one day. I had in the +bedstead, and put it up, and had a comfortable bed fetched and laid on +it; and I made it up with the new sheets. 'Who's goin' to sleep there?' +says Sally Eldridge, at last. 'You,' says I. '<I>Me?</I>' says she; and she +cast one o' them doubtful looks down at herself; doubtful, and kind o' +pitiful; and I knew she'd make no objection to whatever I'd please to +do with her, and she didn't. I got her into a tub o' water, and washed +her and dressed her; and while I was doin' that, the folks in the other +room had put in the table and the other things, and brought the flour +and cheese, and that; and laid a little rag carpet on the floor, and +when Sally was ready I marched her out. And she sat down and looked +round her, and looked round her; and I watched to see what was comin'. +And then she begun to cry." +</P> + +<P> +"To cry!" Matilda echoed. +</P> + +<P> +"The tears come drop, drop, down on her new calico; it fitted nice and +looked real smart; and then, the first word she said was, 'I ain't a +good woman.' 'I know you ain't,' says I; 'but you kin be.' So she +looked round and round her at everything; and then, the next word she +said was, 'The dominie kin come now.' Well! I thought that was good +enough for one day; so I give her her tea and come home to my own an +ashamed woman." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Miss Redwood?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Cause I hadn't done it ages ago, dear, but it was left for you to +show me how." +</P> + +<P> +"And is Mrs. Eldridge really better?" +</P> + +<P> +"Has twice as much sense as ever she showed when she was in all that +muss. I am sure, come to think of it, I don't wonder. Things outside +works in, somehow. I believe, if I didn't keep my window panes clear, I +should begin to grow deceitful—or melancholy. And folks can't have +clean hands and a dirty house." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Miss Redwood," said Matilda, rising. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you ain't goin' now? The minister 'll be in directly." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll come another time," said Matilda. "I'm afraid Mrs. Laval would be +anxious." +</P> + +<P> +"La, she don't mind when her horses come home, I'll engage." +</P> + +<P> +"But she might mind when <I>we</I> come home," said Matilda. "We have been +out a great while." +</P> + +<P> +"Out? why, you don't never mean <I>you</I> come from Mrs. Laval's'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, she does," said Norton. "We've got her." +</P> + +<P> +"Hm! Well, I just wish you'd keep her," said the housekeeper. "She's as +poor as a peascod in a drouth." +</P> + +<P> +At which similitude Norton laughed all the way home. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X. +</H3> + +<P> +It is impossible to tell how pleasant Matilda's room was to her that +night. She had a beautiful white candle burning in a painted +candlestick, and it shed light on the soft green furniture, and the +mat, and the white quilt, and the pictures on the walls, till it all +looked more fairylandish than ever; and Matilda could hardly believe +her own senses that it was real. And when the candle was covered with +its painted extinguisher, and the moonlight streamed in through the +muslin curtains, it was lovelier yet. Matilda went to the window and +gazed out. The fields and copses lay all crisp and bright in the cool +moonbeams; and over beyond lay the blue mountains, in a misty +indistinctness that was even more ensnaring than their midday beauty. +And no bell of Mrs. Candy's could sound in that fairy chamber to summon +Matilda to what she didn't like. She was almost too happy; only there +came the thought, how she would ever bear to go away again. +</P> + +<P> +That thought came in the morning too. But pleasure soon swept it away +out of sight. She had a charming hour with Mrs. Laval in the +greenhouse; after which they went up to Matilda's room; and Mrs. Laval +made some little examination into the state of that small wardrobe +which had been packed up the day before, and now lay in the drawers of +the green dressing-table. Following which, Mrs. Laval carried Matilda +off into another room where a young woman sat sewing; and her she +directed to take Matilda's measure, and fit her with a dress from a +piece of white cambrick which lay on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"It's getting pretty cool, ma'am, for this sort of thing," said the +seamstress. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but it will be wanted, and it is all I have got in the house just +now. I will get something warmer to-day or to-morrow, or whenever I go +out. And Belinda, you may make a little sacque to wear with this; there +is enough of that red cashmere left for it. That will do." +</P> + +<P> +Two or three days saw the white frock done and the sacque. Mrs. Laval +provided Matilda with pretty slippers and a black sash; and +furthermore, desired that she would put these things on and wear them +at once. Matilda did not know herself, in such new circumstances, but +obeyed, and went down-stairs very happy. Norton cast an approving +glance at her as she met him. +</P> + +<P> +"Come here," said he, stretching out his hand to her; "mamma's busy +with her new people, and we will have another drive presently. Come and +sit down till it is time to go." +</P> + +<P> +They went on the verandah, where it was warm and yet shady; the October +sun was so genial, and the winds were so still. +</P> + +<P> +"So they have come?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, a lot of them. Look as if they had come from the other end of +creation. Pink, I think I'll cover all that bank with bulbs." +</P> + +<P> +"What are bulbs?" +</P> + +<P> +"You don't know much, if you <I>are</I> a brick," said Norton. "I mean +tulips, and hyacinths, and crocuses, and ranunculuses, and—well, I +don't know all, but those specially. Wouldn't it be fine?" +</P> + +<P> +Norton was a great gardener. +</P> + +<P> +"I know tulips," said Matilda. "We have a bunch of red tulips in our +garden. I think they are beautiful." +</P> + +<P> +"I do not mean red tulips. Did you never see any but those?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you do not know what I mean by tulips. They are everything else +except plain red; I shall not have one of those." +</P> + +<P> +"Yellow?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well perhaps I may have two or three yellow ones. They are +pretty;—clear lemon colour, you know; the colour of evening primroses." +</P> + +<P> +"Are there blue tulips too?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not that ever I heard," said Norton. "No, there are red, and yellow, +and yellow striped with red, and white striped with red, and white +blotched with carmine, and yellow edged with brown or purple, and a +thousand sorts; but never a blue." +</P> + +<P> +"That's odd, isn't it?" said Matilda. "And nobody ever heard of a blue +rose." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps they will, though." said Norton. "There are black roses, and +green roses. But I don't believe either there <I>can</I> be a blue rose; it +is against nature." +</P> + +<P> +"But how many tulips will you have, Norton? you said <I>two or three</I> +yellow ones; and there are a thousand sorts." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I will not have all the sorts," said Norton; "but I tell you +what I will do. I will fill all that bank with them and hyacinths, I +shall want a hundred or so." +</P> + +<P> +"Do they cost much?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty well," said Norton; "if you get the costly sorts. They are a +dollar a-piece, some of them. But plenty are nice for fifty cents, and +thirty cents." +</P> + +<P> +"Your tulip bed will cost—a great deal, Norton!" +</P> + +<P> +"And that bed over there," Norton went on, pointing, "shall be your +bed; and I will fill it with hyacinths for you. You shall choose what +colours, Pink. They will be beautiful in May. Those shall be yours." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, thank you! But do <I>they</I> cost much?" +</P> + +<P> +"You always ask that," said Norton, laughing. "Yes, some of them do. I +will tell you what I will do, Pink—and then you will be easy. I will +spend twenty-five dollars on my tulip bed, and you shall spend +twenty-five dollars on your hyacinth bed; and you shall say now what +sorts you will have." +</P> + +<P> +"Twenty-five dollars!" said Matilda. "O Norton, thank you. How nice! +And I never saw a hyacinth in my life. What are they like?" +</P> + +<P> +Norton was endeavouring to tell, when Mrs. Laval came upon the +verandah. She came with business upon her lips, but stopped and her +face changed when she saw Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear child!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma," said Norton, "isn't she a brick?" +</P> + +<P> +"A brick?" said Mrs. Laval, taking Matilda in her arms, and sitting +down with her. "A brick! this soft, sweet, fresh delight of mine!" And +as she spoke she emphasised her words with kisses. "My darling! There +is nothing rough, or harsh, or stiff about you, nor anything angular, +nor anything coarse; and he calls you a brick!" +</P> + +<P> +"I think he means something good by it, ma'am," Matilda said, laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know about the angles," said Norton. "Pink has a stiff corner +now and then that I haven't been able to break off yet." +</P> + +<P> +"Break off!" said Mrs. Laval, sitting with her arms round Matilda. And +then they all went off into a laugh together. +</P> + +<P> +"I had forgotten what I was going to say," Mrs. Laval resumed. "When +you are out, Norton, I wish you would stop and send the doctor here." +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know; but those poor people are in a state under the bank, and +maybe the doctor could best tell what they want." +</P> + +<P> +"Ill?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"No, not ill, but dull and spiritless. I don't know what is the matter. +They are tired with their journey perhaps, and forlorn in a strange +place. Maybe they would feel better if they saw the doctor. I think +such people often do." +</P> + +<P> +And then Norton and Matilda had another ride in the basket waggon. +</P> + +<P> +On their return, Norton proposed that they should go down under the +bank and see the new-comers. Matilda was ready for anything. Under the +bank was the place for Mrs. Laval's farm-house, and dairy house, and +barn, and stables; a neat little settlement it looked like. A pretty +little herd of cows had come home to be milked, and a woman in a +strange costume, never before known at Shadywalk, had come out with a +milking pail. To her Norton marched up, and addressed her in French; +Matilda could not understand a word of it; but presently Norton went +off into the farm-house. Here, in the kitchen, they found the rest of +the family. A pleasant-faced, middle-aged woman was busy with supper; a +young pretty girl was helping her; and two men, travel-worn and bearing +the marks of poverty, sat over the fire holding their heads. Norton +entered into conversation here again. It was very amusing to Matilda, +the play of face and interchange of lively words between him and these +people, while yet she could not understand a word. Even the men lifted +up what seemed to be heavy heads to glance at the young master of the +place; and the women looked at him and spoke with unbent brows and +pleasant and pleased countenances. But the elder woman had a good deal +to say; and Norton looked rather thoughtful as he came out. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it all, Norton?" Matilda asked. "Is all right?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, not exactly," said Norton. "Those two men are ill." +</P> + +<P> +"Hasn't the doctor come yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and he says they want a few days of rest; but <I>I</I> say they are +ill." +</P> + +<P> +"But the doctor must know?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps," said Norton. "Perhaps he don't." +</P> + +<P> +The people under the bank were forgotten soon, in the warm luxury of +the drawing-room and the bright tea-table, and the comfort of sugared +peaches. And then Matilda and Norton played chess all the evening, +talking to Mrs. Laval at intervals. The tulip bed and the hyacinth bed +were proposed, and approved; a trip to Poughkeepsie was arranged, to +see Maria; and Norton told of Miss Redwood's doings in Lilac Lane. Mrs. +Laval was much amused. +</P> + +<P> +"And you two children have done that!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"You gave me the money for it, ma'am," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"It was yours after I had given it," said the lady. "I wonder how much +good <I>really</I> now, all that will amount to? or whether it is just a +flash in the pan? That is the question that always comes to me." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda looked up from the chess men, wondering what she could mean. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a real good to have the house cleaned; you would never doubt +that, mamma, if you had seen it," Norton remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"And it is a real good that the poor woman is ready to have Mr. +Richmond come to see her now," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," repeated Mrs. Laval. "That's your minister. You think a +great deal of Mr. Richmond, don't you, Matilda?" +</P> + +<P> +"Everybody does," said Matilda. Mrs. Laval smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know him, you know. But about your doings in the lane—there +is no end to that sort of work. You might keep on for ever, and be no +nearer the end. That is what always discourages me. There are always +new old women to comfort, and fresh poor people to help. There is no +end." +</P> + +<P> +"But then," said Matilda. She began timidly, and stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"What then?" said Mrs. Laval, smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, just hear Pink, mamma," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"What then, Matilda?" said Mrs. Laval, still looking at her as at +something pleasant to the eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I was going to say," Matilda began again, with a blush, "isn't it +meant that we <I>should</I> 'keep on for ever'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Doing good to the poor? But then one would soon have nothing to do +good with. One must stop somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +Clearly, one must stop somewhere. A line must be found; inside or +outside of her bed of hyacinths, Matilda wondered? She did not press +her doubts, though she did not forget them; and the talk passed on to +other things. Nothing could be more delightful than that evening, she +thought. +</P> + +<P> +The next day there was charming work to be done. Norton was to take her +by the early train the morning after to go to Poughkeepsie; and Matilda +was to prepare to-day a basket of fruit, and get ready some little +presents to take to her sister. The day was swallowed up in these +delights; and the next day, the day of the journey, was one long dream +of pleasure. The ride to the station, the hour in the cars, or less +than an hour; but the variety of new sights and sensations made it seem +long; the view of a new place; the joyful visit to Maria, and the +uncommonly jolly dinner the three had together at a good restaurant, +made a time of unequalled delight. Only Maria looked gloomy, Matilda +thought; even a little discomposed at so much pleasure coming to her +little sister and missing <I>her</I>. And in this feeling, Matilda feared, +Maria lost half the good of the play-day that had come to her. However, +nothing could spoil it for the other two; and Matilda came home in the +cars towards nightfall again with a heart full of content. Only a pang +darted through her, as they were driving home under the stars, at the +thought how many days of her fortnight were already gone. Matilda did +not know it was to be a month. +</P> + +<P> +They found Mrs. Laval in perplexity. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish, Norton," she said, "that you would go and bring the doctor +here immediately. The two women are ailing now, and the men are quite +ill. I don't know what to do. York is gone to town, you know, to look +after the interest on his bonds; and Francis demanded permission this +afternoon to go and see his father who is dying. I have no one to send +for anything. I could not keep Francis, and I do not believe he would +have been kept." +</P> + +<P> +"Who's to look after the horses, mamma?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. You must find some one, for a day or so. You must do +that too, to-night." +</P> + +<P> +Norton went and came back, and the evening passed as gayly as ever; +York's absence being made up by the services of the children, which, +Mrs. Laval said, were much better. Matilda made toast at the fire, and +poured out tea; and Norton managed the tea-kettle and buttered the +toast, and fetched and carried generally; and they had a merry time. +But the next morning showed a change in the social atmosphere. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda came down-stairs, as she always did, the earliest of the +family. In the hall she encountered the housemaid, not broom in hand as +usual, but with her bonnet and shawl on. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going out this way, Miss, ye see, becaase it's shorter," she said +with a certain smothered mystery of tone. +</P> + +<P> +"What is shorter? and where are you going, Jane?" Matilda asked, struck +by something in the girl's air. +</P> + +<P> +"Och, it's no lady wouldn't expict one to stop, whin it's <I>that's</I> the +matter." +</P> + +<P> +"When what is the matter? what do you mean? Are you going away?" +</P> + +<P> +"Faith, it's glad I be, to be off; and none too soon. I'd show 'em the +back of me head, you, dear, if it was me, goin' out at the front door. +The likes o' you isn't obleeged to stop no more nor meself." This +advice was given in the same mysterious undertone, and puzzled Matilda +exceedingly. +</P> + +<P> +"But, Jane," she said, catching the woman's shawl as she would have +left her, "you know York is away; and there is nobody to do things. +Mrs. Laval will want you." +</P> + +<P> +"She's welcome to want me," said the girl. "I didn't engage fur to +serve in an hospital, and I won't do it. Me life is as good to me, +sure, as her own, or anybody's." +</P> + +<P> +"But what shall I tell Mrs. Laval? Aren't you coming back?" +</P> + +<P> +"Niver a bit, till the sickness is gone." And with that the girl would +not be kept, but got away. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda stood bewildered. Yes, she saw the broom and duster had been +nowhere that morning. Everything was left. It was early yet. The +sunbeams came slant and cool upon the white frost outside, as Jane +opened the door; and so when the door was shut they stole in upon the +undusted hall and rooms. Matilda softly made her way to the kitchen +stairs and went down, fearing lest there might be more defaulters in +the house hold. To her relief, she found the cook moving about +preparing for some distant breakfast. But breakfast was never an early +meal. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, Mrs. Mattison," said the child. "I came down to see if +there was anybody here. I met Jane just now, going out." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm here yet," said Mattison. "I'll get your breakfast, before I'm +off." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going too?" +</P> + +<P> +"Take my advice, and don't <I>you</I> stop," said the woman. "You ain't a +fixture so you can't get away. I'd go, fust thing, if I was you." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" said Matilda; "and what for are you all going like this? It is +using Mrs. Laval very badly, I think." +</P> + +<P> +"Folks must take care of their own flesh and blood," said the woman. +"Wages don't pay for life, do they? I'm off as soon as I've got the +breakfast. I'll do that, and give Mrs. Laval that much chance. She +ain't a bad woman." +</P> + +<P> +"Is the laundry-maid going too?" +</P> + +<P> +"O' course. She had her warning, weeks ago, and so had I mine. Mrs. +Laval sent for them furriners to fill her house with them; and now she +must make the best of 'em she can. It ain't my fault if they're no use +to her." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda went up-stairs again, pondering what was to be done. She went +softly up to Norton's door and knocked. It was not easy to rouse him; +nothing stirred; and Matilda was afraid of awaking his mother, whose +door was not far off. At last she opened Norton's door a bit and called +to him. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" cried Norton, as soon as the noise found a way to his +brain. "Is it you, Pink? Hold on,—I'll be there in less than no time! +What's to pay?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda waited, till in another minute Norton presented himself, half +dressed, and with his hair all shaggy, outside his door. +</P> + +<P> +"O Norton, can you be dressed very quickly?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. What's the matter? I am going down to see to the horses. What do +you want, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"O Norton—speak softly!—everybody's going away; and I thought, maybe +you would come down and help me get things in order." +</P> + +<P> +"What <I>do</I> you mean, Pink?" said Norton, opening his eyes at her. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! They are all going away." +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" +</P> + +<P> +"The servants. All of them. Jane is off, and the cook will only stay +till after breakfast. The laundry woman is going too. Francis is away, +you know, and York. There is nobody but you and me in the house—to +stay. I don't know what has got into all their heads." +</P> + +<P> +"You and me!" said Norton. "The unconscionable fools! what are they +afraid of?" +</P> + +<P> +"Afraid of trouble, I suppose," said Matilda. "Afraid they will have +nursing to do. I don't know what else." +</P> + +<P> +"They ought to be put into the penitentiary!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; but Norton, can you come down presently and help?" +</P> + +<P> +"Help what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Me. I want to set the table for breakfast, and I don't know where +things are, you know. I am going to set the table, if you'll show me." +</P> + +<P> +"I should think you didn't know where things are! Stop—I'll be there +directly." +</P> + +<P> +Norton disappeared, but Matilda had no idea of stopping. She went +down-stairs softly again, and opened the windows, such of them as she +could manage; applied to the powers below-stairs for broom and duster, +and went at her old work of putting rooms in order. But it seemed like +play now, and here. She was almost glad the servants were going away, +to give her the chance. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you <I>are</I> a brick!" was Norton's remark, when he came in. "I +suppose you know what it means by this time?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd open those two windows for me, Norton; I can't undo the +fastenings. Then perhaps you'd be a brick too?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Norton, laughing. "Well—there, Pink. What now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Show me, Norton, where the things are." +</P> + +<P> +"All at once, is rather too much," said Norton, as he and Matilda went +into York's pantry. "All for nothing, too. Nursing! nonsense! they +wouldn't have to nurse those people. It's jealousy." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I think they are jealous," said Matilda, "from something the cook +said." +</P> + +<P> +Norton stood and looked on admiringly, while Matilda found the +tablecloth, and arranged cups and saucers, and plates, and spoons, and +mats, and all the belongings of the breakfast-table. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got to go to the stables, Norton?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, won't you go and get back, then? The breakfast will be ready, +you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Forgot all about that," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +While he was gone Matilda finished her arrangements; and was watching +for him from the verandah when Mrs. Laval came behind her. +</P> + +<P> +Of course it had become necessary to tell her the state of affairs. +Mrs. Laval set down in one of the verandah chairs as soon as Matilda +began to speak, and drew the child to her arms; wrapping them all round +her, she sat thoughtfully caressing her, kissing her brow, and cheeks, +and lips, and smoothing her hair, in a sort of fond reverie; so fond, +that Matilda did not stir to interrupt her, while she was so +thoughtful, that Matilda was sure she was pondering all the while on +what was best to do. +</P> + +<P> +"Who set the table?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did, ma'am. Norton showed me where things were." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Ma'am</I>," repeated Mrs. Laval, drawing the child closer. "Would it be +very hard to call me 'mamma'—some time—when you know me better? I +can't let you go." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda flushed and trembled; and then Norton came running up the bank. +He smiled at the sight of his mother, with Matilda in her arms and her +face resting upon Matilda's forehead. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the word down there this morning, Norton?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, mamma; I've only been to see the horses. <I>They</I> are +well." +</P> + +<P> +"To the stables, have you been? Then do run and change your dress, +Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and breakfast's ready, Norton," Matilda called after him. She +slid off Mrs. Laval's lap and rang for it, and when it came up on the +dumb waiter, she did York's work in setting it on the table with a +particular pleasure. She began to have a curious feeling of being at +home in the house. +</P> + +<P> +"There is but one thing for me to do," said Mrs. Laval, as they sat at +breakfast. "I must go down to the city and get a new houseful of +servants, to do till these are well. But I'm in a great puzzle how to +leave you two children. There will be nobody here; and I may very +possibly be obliged to stay a night in town. It is not at all likely +that I can do what I have to do, in time to take an evening train." +</P> + +<P> +"I can take care of Pink, mamma." +</P> + +<P> +"Who will take care of you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll try," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"What can <I>you</I> do, to take care of <I>me?</I>" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"You will want something to eat," said Matilda. "I think you +will—before to-morrow night." +</P> + +<P> +"If I do, I can get it," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"He thinks dinner grows, like a cabbage," said Mrs. Laval; "or like a +tulip, rather. His head is full of tulips. But I cannot go to-day to +New York; I could not catch the train. I'll go down-stairs and see +these people after breakfast, and make them stay." +</P> + +<P> +But when Mrs. Laval descended half an hour later to the regions of the +kitchen, she found them deserted. Nobody was there. The fire, in a +sullen state of half life, seemed to bear witness to the fact; the +gridiron stood by the side of the hearth with bits of fish sticking to +it; the saucepan which had held the eggs was still half full of water +on the hob; the floor was unswept, the tray of eggs stood on one table, +a quantity of unwashed dishes on another, but silence everywhere +announced that the hands which should have been busy with all these +matters were no longer within reach of them. Mrs. Laval went up-stairs +again. +</P> + +<P> +"Every creature is gone," she said. "I am sure I do not know what we +are to do. <I>Jealousy</I>, Norton, did you say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because you have sent for these Swiss people, mamma." +</P> + +<P> +"Is it possible? Well—I don't know what we are to do, as I said. We +shall have no dinner." +</P> + +<P> +"I can get the dinner," said Matilda. At which there was some laughing; +and then Mrs. Laval said she must go and see how the poor people were. +Norton was despatched to find some oysters if he could; and Matilda +quietly went down-stairs again, with her little head full. She was +there still an hour later, when Mrs. Laval came home and called for +her. Matilda came running up, with red cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, there you are! What are you doing, Matilda? you have got your face +all flushed." +</P> + +<P> +"It's just the fire," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Fire? What are you doing, child?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, much. Only trying to put things a little in order." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>You</I>," said Mrs. Laval. "Leave that, my darling. You cannot. There +will be somebody to do it by and by. But I wish I had somebody here +now, to make gruel, or porridge, or something, for those poor people. +They are without any comforts." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Laval looked puzzled. +</P> + +<P> +"Are they better?" Matilda asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Two of them are unwell; indeed they are all ill, more or less; but the +men are really bad, I think." +</P> + +<P> +"If I had some meal, I could make gruel," said Matilda. "I know how. I +have made it for—I have made it at home, often." +</P> + +<P> +"Could you?" said Mrs. Laval. "There must be some meal here somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +She went down to search for it. But it was found presently that she did +not know meal when she saw it; and Matilda's help was needed to decide +which barrel held the article. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a useless creature," Mrs. Laval said, as she watched Matilda +getting some meal out. "If you can manage that, darling, I will be for +ever obliged to you, and so will those poor people. It is really good +to know how to do things. Why, what have you done with all the dishes +and irons that were standing about here? You have got the place in +order, I declare! What have you done with them, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"They are put away. Shall I put on a pot and boil some potatoes, Mrs. +Laval? I can; and there is a great piece of cold beef in the pantry." +</P> + +<P> +"Boil potatoes? no, indeed!" said Mrs. Laval. "Norton will get us some +oysters, and some bread and some cake at the baker's. No, dear, do not +touch the horrid things; keep your hands away from them. We'll fast for +a day or two, and enjoy eating all the better afterwards." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda made her gruel, nicely; and Mrs. Laval carried it herself down +to the farmhouse. She came back looking troubled. They could not touch +it, she said, after all; not one of them but the young girl; they were +really a sick house down there; and she would go to New York and get +help to-morrow. So by the early morning train she went. +</P> + +<P> +It was rather a day of amusement to the two children left alone at +home. They had a great sense of importance upon them, and some sense of +business. Matilda, at least, found a good deal for herself to do, +up-stairs and down-stairs; then she and Norton sat down on the verandah +in the soft October light, and consulted over all the details of the +tulip and hyacinth beds. +</P> + +<P> +"Fifty dollars!" said Matilda, at last. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes?" said Norton. "Well?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing. Only—did you ever think, Norton, how many other things one +could do with fifty dollars? I wonder if it is right to spend so much +just on a flower-bed?" +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't. It's on two flower-beds," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, on two. It is the same thing." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a very loose way of talking," said Norton. "Two and one are not +at all the same thing. They are three." +</P> + +<P> +"O Norton! but you are twisting things all round, now. I didn't say +anything ridiculous." +</P> + +<P> +"I am not so sure of that. Pink, one would never spend money any way, +if one stopped because one could spend it some other way." +</P> + +<P> +"But it ought to be always the best way." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't tell what the best way is," said Norton. "I can't think of +anything so good to do with this fifty dollars, as to make those two +beds of bulbous roots." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda sat thinking, not convinced, but longing very much to see the +hyacinths and tulips, when a voice at the glass door behind her made +her start. It was the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning. Is nobody at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody but us," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Laval gone out, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gone to New York, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"To New York, eh? Ah! Well! Unfortunate!" +</P> + +<P> +"What shall I tell her, sir, when she comes back?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is there anybody in the house that can make beef tea?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"If you will tell me how, Dr. Bird, I will have some," Matilda said. +</P> + +<P> +"You, eh? Well, you do know something more than most girls. You can +remember and follow directions, if I tell you, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir, I think I can." +</P> + +<P> +"Then I'll tell you. You take a piece of juicy beef—he can see to +that—juicy beef; not a poor cut, mind, nor fat; mustn't be any fat; +and you cut it into dice; and when you have cut it all up fine, you put +it in a bottle, and cork it up. Understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir. But I don't know what dice are." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't, eh? well, little bits as big as the end of my finger, will do +as well as dice. Then when you have got your bottle corked, set it in a +pot of water, and put the pot on the fire, and let it boil, till the +juice of the beef comes out. Then strain that juice. That's beef tea." +</P> + +<P> +"I mustn't put any water in with the beef, sir?—in the bottle?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a drop. Keep the water all in the pot." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is to have the beef tea, doctor, when it is made?" +</P> + +<P> +"Those two Frenchmen at the farmhouse. I told the women. They ought to +have it now. And a nurse, too; the women are ill themselves." +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Bird went his way, and Matilda persuaded Norton to go at once in +quest of some juicy beef. It would be a difficult job, he said, for the +butchers' shops were shut up; but he would go and try. While he was +gone Matilda amused herself with getting a dinner for him and herself +down in the kitchen; and there, when he came back, the two went, to eat +their dinner and to set the beef tea a-going. They had rather a jolly +time of it, to tell the truth; and were so very social, and discussed +so many things besides their beef and bread, that the beef tea was +ready to strain by the time Matilda had cleared the things away. And +then she and Norton went down to the farmhouse to carry it. +</P> + +<P> +They could get nobody to come to the door, so they opened it for +themselves. It was a sad house to see. In two rooms all the family were +gathered; the men lying on beds in the inner room, one woman on the +floor of the other, and one on a cot. All ill. The girl alone held her +head up, and she complained it was hard to do even that. Matilda and +Norton went from one room to another. The men lay like logs, stupid +with fever; one of the women was light-headed; not any of them would +touch what Matilda had brought. The poor girl who was still on her feet +was crying. There was no fire, no friend, no comfort or help of any +sort. Nor ton and his little companion made the rounds helplessly, and +then went out to consult together. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton, they are dreadfully ill," whispered Matilda. "I know they are." +</P> + +<P> +"I guess you are right," said Norton. "But you and I can't do anything." +</P> + +<P> +"I can," said Matilda. "I can give them water, and I can give them beef +tea. And you, Norton, I will tell you what you can do. Go for Miss +Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Redwood? who's she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you remember? Mr. Richmond's housekeeper. She'll come, I know." +</P> + +<P> +"She'll be very good if she does," said Norton. "But I'll tell her you +said so. Do you think she would come?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm certain of it." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI. +</H3> + +<P> +Norton made his way to the brown door of the parsonage, and knocked; +but the person that opened it was the minister himself. Norton was a +little confused now, remembering what his errand meant there. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton Laval, isn't it?" said Mr. Richmond. "You are very welcome, +Norton, at my house. Will you come in?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. If you please——" +</P> + +<P> +"What is it? Something you would rather say to me here?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir. I was coming——" +</P> + +<P> +"To see me, I hope?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir," said Norton, growing desperate and colouring, which he was +very unapt to do. "If you please, Mr. Richmond, I was sent to speak +to—I forget what her name is—the woman who lives here." +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Redwood?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Who sent you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda Englefield." +</P> + +<P> +"Did she? Pray why did not Matilda come with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"She could not, sir; she was very busy. She asked me to come." +</P> + +<P> +"You can see Miss Redwood," said Mr. Richmond, smiling. "I believe she +is always ready to receive visitors; at least I never saw a time when +she was not. You have only to walk right in and knock at her door +there. When are you coming to see <I>me</I>, Norton? You and I ought to be +better friends." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, sir," said Norton. "I would not intrude." +</P> + +<P> +"Ask your friend Matilda if I do not like such intrusions. I shall have +to invite you specially, I see. Well, go in and find Miss Redwood. I +will not detain you now." +</P> + +<P> +Norton went in, glad to be released, for he did not exactly want to +tell his errand to the minister, knocked at the kitchen door and was +bade to enter. It was full, the kitchen was, of the sweet smell of +baking bread; and Miss Redwood was busily peering into her stove oven. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's there?" she asked, too much engaged in turning her loaves to +give her eyes to anything else, even a visitor. Norton told his name, +and waited till the oven doors shut to with a clang; and then Miss +Redwood, very pink in the face, rose up to look at him. +</P> + +<P> +"I've seen you before," was her remark. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I brought Matilda Englefield here one day," Norton answered. +</P> + +<P> +"H'm. I thought she brought you. What brings you now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda wanted me to come with a message to you." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you can sit down and tell it, if you're a mind to. Why didn't +the child come herself? that's the first idee that comes to me." +</P> + +<P> +"She is busy trying to nurse some sick folks, and they are more than +she can manage, and she wants your help. At least, she sent me to ask +you if you wouldn't come." +</P> + +<P> +"Who's ill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Some people just come from Switzerland to be my mother's servants." +</P> + +<P> +"Switzerland," repeated Miss Redwood. "I have heard o' Switzerland, +more than once in my life. I should like to know whereabouts it is. I +never knew any one yet that could tell me." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond knows, I suppose," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose he knows Greek," said Miss Redwood, "and ever so many other +queer tongues too, I've no doubt; but I should like to see myself +askin' him to learn me. No, I mean, as I never knew nobody that I'd +ask. La! there's folks enough that knows. Only I never had no chances +for them things." +</P> + +<P> +"I could shew you where Switzerland is, if you had a map," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess I know as much as that myself," said the housekeeper quietly, +opening the stove door again for a peep at the oven. "But what does +<I>that</I> tell me? I see a little spot o' paper painted green, and a big +spot along side of it painted some other colour; and the map is all +spots; and somebody tells me that little green spot is Switzerland. And +I should like to know, how much wiser am I for that? That's paper and +green paint; but what I want to know is, where is the <I>place</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"It's hard to tell," said Norton, so much amused that he forgot his +commission. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, these folks come from Switzerland, you say. How did they come?" +</P> + +<P> +"They came in a ship—part of the way." +</P> + +<P> +"How fur in a ship?" +</P> + +<P> +"Three thousand miles." +</P> + +<P> +"Three thousand," repeated Miss Red wood. "When you get up there, I +don't know what miles mean, no more than if you spoke another language. +I understand a hundred miles. It's nigh that to New York." +</P> + +<P> +"They came that hundred miles, over and above," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, how long now, does it take a ship to go that fur? Three thousand +miles." +</P> + +<P> +"It depends on how fast the wind blows." +</P> + +<P> +"The wind goes awful fast sometimes," said Miss Redwood. "When it goes +at that rate as will carry a chimney off a house, and pick up a tree by +the roots as I would a baby under my arm, seems to me a ship would +travel at a powerful speed." +</P> + +<P> +"It would certainly, if there was nothing to hinder," said Norton; "but +at those times, you see, the wind picks up the water, and sends such +huge waves rolling about that it is not very safe to be where they can +give you a slap. Ships don't get along best at such times." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm thankful I'm not a sailor," said Miss Redwood. "I'd rather +stay home and know less. How many o' these folks o' yourn is ill?" +</P> + +<P> +"All of them, pretty much," said Norton. "Two men and two women." +</P> + +<P> +"Fever nagur?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, 'tisn't that. I don't know what it is. The doctor is attending +them. He ordered beef tea to-day; and Matilda made some; but they seem +too ill to take it now they've got it." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Redwood dropped her towel, with which she was just going to open +the oven again, and stood upright. +</P> + +<P> +"Beef tea?" she echoed. "How long have these folks been ill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ever since they came ashore almost. They came straight up here, and +began to be ill immediately. That was a few days ago; not a week." +</P> + +<P> +"Beef tea!" said Miss Redwood again. "And just come to shore. How do +they look? Did you see them?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I saw them," said Norton. "I went with Matilda when she took the +beef tea to them. How did they look? I can't tell; they looked bad. The +men were mahogany colour, and one of the women was out of her head, I +think." +</P> + +<P> +"And you two children going to see them!" exclaimed Miss Redwood, in a +tone that savoured of strong disapprobation, not to say dismay. +</P> + +<P> +"Because there was no one else," said Norton. "Mamma has gone to New +York to get more people; for all ours went off when they knew of the +sickness at the farmhouse." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" said Miss Redwood, sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. I suppose they were jealous of these strangers." +</P> + +<P> +"H'm," said Miss Redwood, beginning now to take her bread out of the +oven with a very hurried hand; "there's jealousy enough in the world, +no doubt, and unreason enough; but it don't usually come like an +epidemic neither. You go home, and tell Matilda I'm a comin' as fast as +ever I kin get my chores done and my hood and shawl on. And you tell +her—will she do what you tell her?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," said Norton. "What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Where</I> is it these folks are ill? Not to your house?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no. Down at the farmhouse—you know our farmhouse—under the bank." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you leave the child there?" +</P> + +<P> +"She was there when I came away." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you run home as fast as your legs can carry you, and fetch her +out of that. Bring her home, and don't you nor she go down there again. +Maybe it's no harm, but it's safe to do as I tell you. Now go, and I'll +come. Don't let the grass grow under your feet." +</P> + +<P> +Norton was not used to be ordered about quite so decidedly; it struck +him as an amusing variety in his life. However he divined that Miss +Redwood might have some deep reason for being so energetic, and he was +not slow in getting back to Briery Bank; so his mother's place was +called. The house was shut up, as he and Matilda had left it, and he +went on down to the home of the sick people. There he found Matilda as +he had left her. Norton only put his head into the sick-room and called +her out. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Redwood is coming," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm so glad! I knew she would," said Matilda. "She will know what to +do. They all seem stupid, Norton, except the woman who is out of her +head." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, she will know what to do," said Norton; "and you had better come +away now. You don't." +</P> + +<P> +"I can do something, though," said Matilda. "I can give the medicine +and the beef tea. Why, there was nobody even to give the medicine, +Norton. I found it here with the doctor's directions; and nobody had +taken it till I came, not one of these poor people. But oh, the rooms +are so disagreeable with so many invalids in them! you can't think." +</P> + +<P> +"I can, for I've been in them," said Norton. "And once is enough. They +have got the medicine now, Pink; you needn't stay any longer." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, but I must. I must till Miss Redwood comes. The medicine will +have to be taken again in a little while." +</P> + +<P> +"It can wait till she gets here. You come away, Pink. Miss Redwood said +you should." +</P> + +<P> +"She didn't know what there was for me to do, or she wouldn't have said +it. I can't go, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"But you <I>must</I>, Pink. She said so. Suppose these people should be ill +with something dreadful? you can't tell." +</P> + +<P> +"I am sure they would want a nurse then." +</P> + +<P> +"But <I>you</I> might get ill, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Norton, I'm not afraid." +</P> + +<P> +"You might get sick, all the same, if you're <I>not</I> afraid," said +Norton, impatiently. "Come, Pink, you must come." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't, Norton. I must go in and give them some more beef tea now, in +a minute. They can't take but ever so little at a time. It would be +very wrong to leave them as they are." +</P> + +<P> +"You might get ill, and die," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Norton," said Matilda, slowly, "I don't think I am afraid of +that. I belong to Jesus. He will take care of me." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think you know what you are talking of!" said Norton, very +impatient, and very much at a loss how to manage Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, I do!" she said, smiling. "Now I must go in. <I>You</I> needn't +come, for there wouldn't be anything for you to do." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda disappeared; and Norton, wishing very much that he could lay +hold of her and carry her away by force, did not, however, feel that it +would exactly do. He sat down on the door stone of the house, he would +not go further, and waited. There was a delicious calm sunlight over +all the world that October afternoon; it puzzled Norton how there could +be a sick-house anywhere under such a sky. He heard the ponies stamping +their idle hoofs against the barn floor; they were spoiling for +exercise; why were he and Matilda not out driving, instead of having +this state of things? Then some gaily disposed crows went flying +overhead, calling a cheery reminder to each other as they went along; +<I>they</I> were having a good time. Norton chafed against the barriers that +hindered him. Suddenly a swift footstep came over the grass, and Mr. +Richmond stood before him. +</P> + +<P> +"Is this the house?" he asked. "Is Matilda here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir; and I've tried to get her out. And I can't." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond went in without more words. A moment after Matilda opened +the door he had shut. +</P> + +<P> +"Well! will you go now?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"I must. Mr. Richmond will not let me stay." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Richmond himself came again to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Norton," said he, "I am going to ask you to take Matilda to the +parsonage. The best thing will be for you and her to make your home +there, until Mrs. Laval gives further orders. You will both be heartily +welcome. Will you take her there and take care of her until I come +home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, sir," said Norton, "it is not necessary——" +</P> + +<P> +"You must let my word go for that," said the minister, smiling. "If not +necessary, I think it prudent. I wish it; and I invite both of you. It +would be treating me very ill to refuse me, and I am sure you will not +do that. I trust you to take care of Matilda until I get home. The +house will be quite alone when Miss Redwood leaves it. Is anybody in +the house on the bank?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir; nobody." +</P> + +<P> +"I will lock it up, then, and bring the key. Go in and put up anything +you will want for a day or two, and I will send it after you." +</P> + +<P> +With a nod and a smile at them Mr. Richmond went in again. The two +children looked at each other, and then began to mount the bank. +</P> + +<P> +"You do what Mr. Richmond tells you," remarked Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," said Matilda. "So do you." +</P> + +<P> +"It wouldn't be civil to do anything else," said Norton. "But isn't it +jolly, that you and I should go to make a visit at the parsonage! What +is a parsonage like? It isn't like other houses, I suppose." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes, it is," said Matilda; "just like; only a minister lives in +it." +</P> + +<P> +"That makes the difference," said Norton. "Don't you feel as if you +were in church all the time? I shall, I know." +</P> + +<P> +"Why, no, Norton! what an idea. Mr. Richmond's house is not like a +church." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't he like a minister?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes, of course!" said Matilda, with some indignation. "He isn't +like <I>your</I> minister, Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" said Norton, laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. He isn't stiff. He don't dress unlike other people. He +is just as pleasant as anybody else can be; and a <I>great</I> deal +pleasanter, I think." +</P> + +<P> +"What you call good people, generally are stiff," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no, Norton, they are not. What makes you think so?" +</P> + +<P> +"You were very stiff just now," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, do you mean <I>that</I> sort of stiffness? But, Norton, I thought there +was something I could do there, you know, and I didn't think I ought to +come away." +</P> + +<P> +Getting to the top of the bank broke off the discussion. Matilda and +Norton each had things to get together to go to the parsonage; and it +was necessary to change their dress. The sun was well on his westing +way when they left the iron gate of Briery Bank, bag in hand; and in +the little lane of the parsonage the elm trees cast broad and long +shadows. As they came up on the piazza, Miss Redwood opened the door. +Her hood and shawl were on, and she had a basket in her hand. She +stopped suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it now?" she said. "What's wanting?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing," said Matilda; "only Mr. Richmond has sent us here." +</P> + +<P> +"He has!" said the housekeeper. "You've come to stop?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond says so. He wished it." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what'll you do?" said Miss Redwood, coming to a sort of pause. +"There ain't a living soul in the house, and there won't be, 'cept the +minister himself; and how he'll get along I don't know. I can't be in +two places at once." +</P> + +<P> +"Can't I get the tea, Miss Redwood?" +</P> + +<P> +"La, I don't know but what you kin. Come along in, and let me tell you. +There's bread all baked, this afternoon—it ain't cold yet—enough to +last a siege; it's in that pantry, Matilda, in the bread box. You know +there's all the cups; and saucers; and tea things, for you've seen me +get 'em out; and the tea canister, and the sugar. And the milk is down +cellar, in a pan, and there's cream onto it. Can you skim it off and +keep it cream yet, for the minister's tea?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes; I can do that, Miss Redwood." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you'll get along for to-night; and I'll try and be round in the +morning, if I kin. But you'll want sheets—There's the bed in the spare +room off the hall; that's all ready for one of ye; I got it fixed up +Saturday for somebody that never come; 'tain't everybody as sticks to +his word like the minister. La, I get weary with the folks that are +like Job's brooks; they say and don't do; and when you expect 'em they +ain't there. I was put out, o' Saturday, when I found out that was how +it was with this man; but there's good in everything, if you can keep +your patience; now the room's ready, and it wouldn't ha' been ready; +for I had a lot o' apples there dryin', and a board full o' fresh +turnpikes was on the bed; <I>they</I> was gettin' finished; and I had a +quilt in a corner that I had sot up on the sticks and it was a'most +done quiltin'; and all them things I had to fly round and get rid of; +and I've no time for anything now. So, dear, that room'll do for one of +ye, and the other—you can put the sheets on the bed, can't ye? for the +minister'll be playin' nurse till I come, and I wish I had Jack's +seven-mile boots to get to Briery Bank with." +</P> + +<P> +While this talk was going on, Miss Redwood had brought Matilda +up-stairs, and was taking out linen and coverlets from a press in one +of the rooms. Matilda said she could manage everything, with Norton's +help. +</P> + +<P> +"Then I'll go," said Miss Redwood. "But if I shouldn't be able fur to +run away in the morning and see to the breakfast!——" +</P> + +<P> +She stopped, thinking. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear Miss Redwood, won't you trust me to do it? I think I can." +</P> + +<P> +"What sort of a breakfast will it be?" said the housekeeper, +meditatively. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll <I>try</I> to have it right." +</P> + +<P> +"La, yes, if it depended on your tryin'," said the housekeeper; "your +will is as good as gold; but <I>will</I> won't cook a beefsteak." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll try," said Matilda again. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said Miss Redwood, "we must walk till we get out o' the woods, +and then we'll run. The minister ain't accustomed to have his steak any +way, but as he likes it; maybe it'll do him no harm. Everything's down +cellar, Matilda, 'cept the things in the kitchen pantry; and you'll +find out which is which. And I'll go." +</P> + +<P> +So she did. And as the door closed after her, the two children in the +hall looked at each other. +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody in the house?" said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody but ourselves." +</P> + +<P> +"That's jolly," said Norton. "Pink, I have got that catalogue in my +pocket; let us sit down somewhere and make out a list of those +hyacinths." +</P> + +<P> +"O Norton!—Yes, I will in a little while. I must go get the table +ready for tea; and I had better do it now before Mr. Richmond comes +home." +</P> + +<P> +"You and I seem to have a great deal of getting tea to do," said +Norton, as he followed Matilda into the little dining-room. "What do +you want <I>me</I> to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"O Norton! if you would just look and see if the tea-kettle is on, and +if not, put it on. Will you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where, Pink?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just open that door. There is the kitchen." +</P> + +<P> +"I remember," said Norton. "No, the kettle isn't on. Here goes." +</P> + +<P> +There was a little busy, pleasant bustle, for a time; and then Matilda, +with Norton's help, had got everything in order for the evening meal. +The sun was near setting, and threw bright lines of light in at the two +little west windows, filling the small dining-room with pure gold; then +it went down, and the gold was gone, and only in the low western sky +the brightness remained. +</P> + +<P> +"It's time for the minister to be at home," Norton said. +</P> + +<P> +"He has a great deal to do," Matilda answered. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" said Norton. "I always thought the parsons had an easy time of +it. I could write two themes a week, I think, if I tried hard." +</P> + +<P> +"Norton!" Matilda exclaimed, "it isn't that; and Mr. Richmond doesn't +write themes, as you call it, to begin with." +</P> + +<P> +"That must be harder then," said Norton; "to stand up and speak to +people without anything to say." +</P> + +<P> +"Why he doesn't!" said Matilda. "Mr. Richmond always has plenty to say. +I suppose he could talk all day, if he didn't get tired." +</P> + +<P> +"I mean preaching," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and I mean preaching," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is it to come from?" said the boy, pursing his lips ready for a +whistle. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, out of his head, and out of his heart," said Matilda. "Where +should it come from?" +</P> + +<P> +"I say, Pink," said Norton, "it's very funny for me to be here. I don't +think I can stand it long." +</P> + +<P> +"Stand what?" +</P> + +<P> +"This. Being at the parsonage and getting talked to. I suppose I shall." +</P> + +<P> +"Norton," said Matilda, confidently, "you'll like it. It's just nice." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know about that," said Norton. "It feels queer. I believe I am +afraid." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda laughed at his very un-fear-like face; and then the front door +opened and shut. Mr. Richmond had come. +</P> + +<P> +It was a jolly tea they had, Norton confessed afterwards. Mr. Richmond +went rummaging among Miss Redwood's stores and brought out a jar of +sweetmeats; in honour, he said, of his guests. The sweetmeats were +good, and so was Miss Redwood's fresh bread. And there was indeed +plenty of talk at the table; but it was not in the least like +preaching. From the sick Swiss, and their voyage, Mr. Richmond and +Norton somehow got upon the subject of navigation and commerce, with +ships ancient and modern, and a little touch here and there showing how +much these things have had to do with the history of the world and the +life of nations. Mr. Richmond and Norton talked and talked; and Matilda +listened, and made the tea, and enjoyed it all very much, seeing too +what a good time Norton was having. +</P> + +<P> +After tea, they removed into the study. Mr. Richmond asked them to come +there, saying he was going to play this evening. He built up a +beautiful fire, and gave Norton a book to look at; while he himself sat +for awhile quite silent, looking into the blaze, and only moving now +and then to take care that it was kept up. So Matilda found the two, +when she had put the tea things away and followed them to the study. +The red curtains were drawn across the windows; the red light of the +fire leaped and shone all through the room; in the glow of it Norton +sat brooding over his book, and before it Mr. Richmond sat thinking. +But he held out his hand as Matilda came in, and asked if his little +housekeeper had got all things straight. Matilda came to his +outstretched hand, which drew her to his side; and the room was still +again. Matilda stood motionless. By and by Norton glanced up at her +from his book, and covertly smiled. It started Matilda's thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you not going to be busy, Mr. Richmond?" she ventured, gently. +</P> + +<P> +"Not doing anything at all," said Mr. Richmond, rousing himself. "I +have been busy all day, Matilda. I am going to do nothing to-night. +What is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Will it be doing anything to talk to Norton and me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't say," Mr. Richmond replied, laughing a little. "Perhaps you +will find me work to do, but I'll risk it. What do you want to talk +about?" +</P> + +<P> +"There was a question—Norton and I could not tell what the answer +ought to be. I believe he thought one way, and I thought another." +</P> + +<P> +"What was the question?" said Mr. Richmond; while Norton's face looked +up from his book, bright with the same query. +</P> + +<P> +"We were talking—it was about opportunities, you know, Mr. Richmond; +the opportunities that having money gives people; and we couldn't tell, +Norton and I, how far one ought to go. Norton said people must stop +somewhere; and I suppose they must. Where ought they to stop?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda's face looked very earnest. Norton's, comical. +</P> + +<P> +"Where ought they to stop in giving money, you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir. For doing good, you know, and making other people +comfortable." +</P> + +<P> +"It is rather a large question. Were you afraid of giving too much, or +of giving too little?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think one of us was afraid of giving too much, and the other of +giving too little." +</P> + +<P> +"The best way is to go to the Bible and see what that says. May I +trouble one of you to open it at the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, +and read what you find in the seventh verse of the ninth chapter?" +</P> + +<P> +Norton dropped his book and sprang to do the service asked for. He read +the words— +</P> + +<P> +"'Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; +not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God loveth a cheerful giver.'" +</P> + +<P> +Norton read, and looked up, as much as to say, What now? how does this +help? +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see how that tells, Mr. Richmond," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"It tells one or two things. You are to give out of your heart; not +because somebody else asks you, or some other body says you ought. +<I>That</I> would not please God. You are to do what you <I>like</I> to do; much +or little, as you feel." +</P> + +<P> +"But ought it to be much or little?" +</P> + +<P> +"As you feel. As your heart says." +</P> + +<P> +"But then, Mr. Richmond, will the Lord be just as well pleased whether +it is much or little?" +</P> + +<P> +"Norton will please read the sixth verse." +</P> + +<P> +"'But this I say, He which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; +and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully.'" +</P> + +<P> +"But that don't tell either," said Norton, when he had read. +</P> + +<P> +"I think it does," said Matilda, slowly. "It tells one thing. Mr. +Richmond, it doesn't tell <I>how much</I> one ought to like to give. That +was the very question between Norton and me; and we could not settle +it." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you see, Matilda, that everybody's heart would give its own +answer to that question?" +</P> + +<P> +"But, Mr. Richmond, surely there is a right and a wrong answer?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid a good many wrong answers," said Mr. Richmond. +</P> + +<P> +Norton looked as if he would like to say something, but modestly kept +back before the minister. Mr. Richmond caught the look. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak out, Norton," said he, smiling. "Truth will always bear to be +looked at." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know much about it, sir," said Norton. "Only it seems to me, +that if one begins to help other people all one can, one will soon want +helping himself." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" said Mr. Richmond. "Read the next verse now." +</P> + +<P> +"The next to the seventh, sir?—'And God is able to make all grace +abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all +things, may abound to every good work.'" +</P> + +<P> +"That does not sound as if Matilda were in any danger of growing poor +through helping Mrs. Eldridge, does it?" +</P> + +<P> +"But, sir!" said Norton, "the more one gives away, the less one has for +one's self?" +</P> + +<P> +"It does not always work so," said Mr. Richmond. "The Bible says, +'There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth.'" +</P> + +<P> +Norton did not know exactly how to fight for his opinions, and so was +silent, like a well-bred boy as he was; but Matilda's feeling was +different. +</P> + +<P> +"I understand," she said; "at least I think I do; but, Mr. Richmond, +this does not get Norton and me out of our puzzle. You don't mean that +people ought to keep nothing for themselves?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Every man according as he purposeth in his heart,'" Mr. Richmond +repeated. "That is the order. There have been people, Matilda, who have +given their all for the sake of the Lord Jesus, and kept, as you say, +nothing for themselves. It was in their heart. I cannot blame them, for +one. He did not." +</P> + +<P> +"But ought every one to do so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Matilda, I dare not set any rule but the rule my Master has set. <I>He</I> +said, 'He that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my +disciple.'" +</P> + +<P> +"People don't do that, sir," said Norton, eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Ought</I> they to do it, sir?" said Matilda, timidly. "To give away all +they have got?" +</P> + +<P> +"He did not say, 'give away,' but 'forsake.' The word means literally +'to take leave of.' They give up thinking that what they have is their +own; and from that time stand ready to give it away entirely, if the +Master says so." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that religion, sir?" Norton asked. +</P> + +<P> +"But, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said, in another tone, "that is the very +thing. How are they to know when He does tell them to give these things +away?" +</P> + +<P> +"We are coming to it now," said Mr. Richmond. "You want to know what +religion is, Norton. Please turn to the fifth chapter of that same +epistle to the Corinthians, and read aloud the—let me see—I think it +is the fourteenth and fifteenth verses." +</P> + +<P> +Norton obeyed. +</P> + +<P> +"'For the love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that +if one died for all, then were all dead: and that He died for all, that +they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto +Him which died for them and rose again.'" +</P> + +<P> +"That is your answer," said Mr. Richmond; "that is religion. Now for +Matilda's answer—Norton, turn to the Epistle to the Colossians, and +the third chapter, and read the seventeenth verse." +</P> + +<P> +"'And whatsoever ye do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord +Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father, by Him.'" +</P> + +<P> +"There is your rule, Matilda. It is carrying out the former words. You +have only to apply that to everything you do." +</P> + +<P> +"What is doing all <I>in the name</I> of the Lord?" Norton asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Not in your own name; not as though you were your own master; not as +seeking first your own pleasure or advancement; not as using your own +things. Correlatively, for the Lord; for His pleasure, for His service, +as belonging to Him." +</P> + +<P> +"'In word or deed,'" said Matilda. "That means giving and everything." +</P> + +<P> +"But then, in religion one would never be free," said Norton. +</P> + +<P> +"How, never be free?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, one must act as if one never be longed to one's self." +</P> + +<P> +"We don't," said Mr. Richmond. "We are <I>not</I> our own; we are bought +with a price. And we never were free till now." +</P> + +<P> +"But, if I go to buy a coat——" said Norton; and he stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, if you go to buy a coat, you will remember that you and the coat +are the Lord's together; and you will buy that coat which you think is +the one He would like you to wear, and in which you can best work for +Him; and not use His money for any other." +</P> + +<P> +Norton was silent, not because he had no thoughts to speak. Matilda was +silent, but with a very different face. It was serious, sweet, +meditative, and content. +</P> + +<P> +"I see how it is, Mr. Richmond," she said, at last, looking up to his +face. "Thank you, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"It is very nice to have people apply sermons for themselves, Matilda," +said the minister. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XII. +</H3> + +<P> +Miss Redwood did not come back the next morning to get breakfast. No +sign of her. Mr. Richmond and Matilda managed it, between them. Norton, +I am afraid, was not up till Matilda called him, and that was when the +coffee was nearly ready. +</P> + +<P> +Matilda learned how to get breakfast at the parsonage, and Norton +learned to be up and help her; for they made a long stay at the old +brown house. Mrs. Laval's Swiss servants were all down with ship fever; +and the two children were forbidden to come even near the house. Mrs. +Laval herself staid at home and did what she could for the sufferers; +but she and Miss Redwood kept house alone together. Not a servant would +be hired to come within reach of the dreadful contagion; and not a +friend thought it was any use to go there just then to see anybody. +Mrs. Laval and Miss Redwood had it all to themselves, with no one to +look at besides but Mr. Richmond and the doctor. Mr. Richmond came to +them constantly. +</P> + +<P> +The flow of human sympathy went all to the house with the brown door. +It was remarkable how many friends were eager to know how the children +got on; and how many more were anxious to be allowed to come in to help +Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"What shall I do, Mr. Richmond?" she would say. "There have been three +this morning." +</P> + +<P> +"Who were they, Tilly?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Barth, and Miss Van Dyke, and Miss Spenser—oh, there were +four!—and Ailie Swan." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you want Ailie to help you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mr. Richmond; I don't want anybody but Norton." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't. You may tell them that we do not want anybody, Matilda. +I have seen Mrs. Pottenburg; she will come in to scrub floors and do +the hard work." +</P> + +<P> +So for several weeks the two children and the minister kept house +together; in a way highly enjoyed by Matilda, and I think by Mr. +Richmond too. Even Norton found it oddly pleasant, and got very fond of +Mr. Richmond, who, he declared privately to Matilda, was a brick of the +right sort. All the while the poor Swiss people at Mrs. Laval's +farmhouse were struggling for life, and their two nurses led a weary, +lonely existence. Norton sometimes wished he and Matilda could get at +the gray ponies and have a good drive; but Matilda did not care about +it. She would rather not be seen out of doors. As the weeks went on, +she was greatly afraid that her aunt would come back and reclaim her. +</P> + +<P> +And Mrs. Candy did come back; and meeting Mr. Richmond a day or two +after her return, she desired that he would send Matilda home to her. +She had just learned where she was, she said. +</P> + +<P> +"You know that Matilda has been exposed to ship fever?" said Mr. +Richmond. +</P> + +<P> +"No. I heard she was at your house." +</P> + +<P> +"But not until she had been in the house with the fever patients, and +nursing them, before any one knew what was the matter. Had she not +better stay where she is, at least until we can be certain that she has +got no harm?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, perhaps," said Mrs. Candy, looking confused; "it is very +perplexing; I cannot expose my daughter——" +</P> + +<P> +"She will stay where she is," said Mr. Richmond, "for the present. Good +morning." +</P> + +<P> +He never told Matilda of this encounter. And before another week had +gone, Mrs. Candy and Clarissa had again left Shadywalk. +</P> + +<P> +So week after week went by peacefully. The beautiful days of October +were all past; November winds came, and the trees were bare, and the +frosts at night began to be severe. The sick people were getting +better, and terrible qualms of fear and sorrow now and then swept over +Matilda's heart. Her aunt would surely want her back now, and she +should never finish her visit at Mrs. Laval's! +</P> + +<P> +One day she was in Mr. Richmond's study, all alone, thinking so. There +was a flurry of snow in the air, the first snow of the season, falling +thickly on the grass, and eddying in windy circles through the pine +trees. Matilda had knelt in a chair at the window to watch it, with +that spasm of fear at her heart. Now it is winter! she thought. Aunt +Candy <I>must</I> be home soon. Yet the whirling great flakes of snow were +so lovely, that in a few minutes they half distracted her from her fear. +</P> + +<P> +It came back again when she saw Mr. Richmond appear from the end of the +church porch and make his way across the snow towards the parsonage +door. Matilda watched him lovingly; then was possessed with a sudden +notion that he was bringing her news. He walks as if he had something +to say, she said to herself; and he will come in and say it. +</P> + +<P> +He came in and warmed his hands at the fire, without sitting down; +certainly there <I>was</I> an air of business about him, as she had thought. +Matilda stood watching and waiting; that fear at her heart. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Norton?" said Mr. Richmond. +</P> + +<P> +"He went out a good while ago. I don't know, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you have expected to hear of your aunt's coming home, before +now, Matilda?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," said the child. He watched her furtively. No curiosity, no +question; her face settled rather into a non-expectant state, as if all +were fixed for her for ever—a look Mr. Richmond did not like to see. +</P> + +<P> +"She has come home." +</P> + +<P> +He saw the colour flit on Matilda's cheek; her mouth had quitted its +lines of peace and gaiety and become firm; she said nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not glad to hear of it, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"It is no pleasure to tell you of it; but it is necessary. How do you +feel towards her now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I think I don't hate her any +more." +</P> + +<P> +"But you would like to be excused from living with her?" +</P> + +<P> +Matilda did not reply; no answer was necessary to so self-evident a +proposition; the child seemed to be gathering her forces, somehow, +mentally. +</P> + +<P> +"Take courage," said her friend. "I have concluded that you never shall +live with her any more. That is at an end." +</P> + +<P> +He saw the lightning flash of delight come into Matilda's eyes; a +streak of red showed itself on her cheek; but she was breathless, +waiting for more words to make her understand how this could be, or +that she had heard right. +</P> + +<P> +"It's true," said Mr. Richmond. +</P> + +<P> +"But—how then?" said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Laval wants you." +</P> + +<P> +"Wants me?" Matilda repeated, anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"She wants you, to keep you for her own child. She lost a little +daughter once. She wants you to be in that little daughter's place, and +to live with her always." +</P> + +<P> +"But, aunt Candy will not," said Matilda, "she will not——" +</P> + +<P> +"Your aunt Candy has consented. I have arranged that. It is safely +done, Matilda. You are to live with Mrs. Laval, and be her child from +henceforth." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda still looked at Mr. Richmond for a minute or two, as if there +must be words to follow that would undo the wonderful tale of these; +but seeing that Mr. Richmond only smiled, there came a great change +over the child's face. The fixedness broke up. Yet she did not smile; +she seemed for the instant to grow grave and old; and clasping her +little hands, she turned away from Mr. Richmond and walked the breadth +of the room and back. Then she stood still again beside the table, +sober and pale. She looked at Mr. Richmond, waiting to hear more. +</P> + +<P> +"It is all true," said her friend. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it for <I>always?</I>" Matilda asked, in a low voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Even so. Mrs. Laval was very earnest in wishing it. I judged you +would not be unwilling, Matilda." +</P> + +<P> +The child said nothing, but the streak of colour began again to come +into her cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"You are now to be Mrs. Laval's child. She adopts you for her own. In +all respects, except that of memory, you are to be as if you had been +born hers." +</P> + +<P> +"Does Norton know?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have not spoken to him. I really cannot tell." +</P> + +<P> +Again silence fell. Matilda stood with her eyes downcast, the colour +deepening in each cheek. Mr. Richmond watched her. +</P> + +<P> +"Have I done right?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"You, sir?" said Matilda, looking up. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Have I done right? I have made no mistake for your happiness?" +</P> + +<P> +"Did <I>you</I> do it, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, in one way. Mrs. Laval wished it; I arranged it. You know your +mother left me the power. Have I done right?" +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I am afraid to think." +</P> + +<P> +Her friend smiled again, and waited till the power of speech should +come back. +</P> + +<P> +"Was aunt Candy willing?" she said then. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I do not think she was willing. I think the plan was not agreeable +to her. But she gave her consent to it. The reasons in favour of the +plan were so strong that she could not help that." +</P> + +<P> +Matilda privately wondered that any reasons could have had so much +weight; and rather fancied that Mr. Richmond had been the strongest +reason of them all. +</P> + +<P> +"And it is <I>all done?</I>" she said, lifting up her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"All done. Arranged and finished. But Mrs. Laval is afraid to have you +come home before next week." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," said the child, coming close, and stealing her hand +into his, "I am very much obliged to you!" +</P> + +<P> +Her friend sat down and drew his arm around her; and Matilda's other +hand on his shoulder, they were both still, thinking, for some little +time. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Richmond," Matilda whispered, "I think I am somebody else." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope not, Tilly." +</P> + +<P> +"Everything in the world seems different." +</P> + +<P> +"Very naturally; but you can keep your self yet, I trust. If I thought +not, I should wish the whole thing undone." +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to be better," said Matilda. +</P> + +<P> +"We ought always to be better. Circumstances cannot change that. +<I>Nothing</I> happens that the Lord does not mean shall help us to be +better. And yet, sometimes circumstances seem to make it more +difficult." +</P> + +<P> +"These don't, Mr. Richmond; do they?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, Tilly. They may." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will not forestall them, Tilly. If you watch, you will soon find +out, whether they do or not." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you afraid I shall be different, Mr. Richmond? <I>not</I> growing +better, I mean." +</P> + +<P> +"I have not seen you tried, except in one way, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall have more opportunities; shall I not, Mr. Richmond?" +</P> + +<P> +"Different opportunities. You have had no lack of them so far, have +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of one sort, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, but remember, my child, we are never without opportunities to do +the Lord's will; plenty of opportunities. What you are thinking of now, +is opportunity to do your own will; isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was thinking of helping people, and doing things for those who have +no money." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. And is not that a pleasure?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"When the Lord puts it out of our power to have this pleasure, it shows +that those things are not His will for us just then, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"What is our opportunity then?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know what you mean, Mr. Richmond. You mean, that then we can be +patient." +</P> + +<P> +"And content." +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Content?</I>" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; if it is God's will. We must be content always to do that." +</P> + +<P> +"But I suppose," said Matilda, "I <I>shall</I>, maybe, have more chance to +do those things, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"If so, I hope you will do them. But I want you to be always ready to +do all the will of God. It is easy to pick out a pleasant duty here and +there, or an unpleasant duty even; and stand ready to be faithful in +that. But I want you to watch and be faithful in all things, that you +may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." +</P> + +<P> +"I will try, Mr. Richmond." +</P> + +<P> +"In every change of circumstances, Matilda, we find both new +opportunities and new difficulties. God has something new for us in +every change. The thing is, to be ready for it." +</P> + +<P> +"How can one always find out, Mr. Richmond, what it is?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you watch, and are obedient, the Lord will show it to you." +</P> + +<P> +Norton's step sounded on the piazza. Mr. Richmond loosened the hold of +his arm, and Matilda rushed off. Not so fast but that she stopped +midway between him and the door and said, soberly— +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Mr. Richmond. I think I understand. I will try." +</P> + +<BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +PRINTED BY BALLANTINE AND COMPANY +<BR> +EDINBURGH AND LONDON +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Typographical errors silently corrected: +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 2: =Oh, I don't know= replaced by =Oh, I don' know= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 2: =Am I one of em= replaced by =Am I one of 'em= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 2: =giveth His life for= replaced by =giveth his life for= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 2: =intelligible the reading this time= replaced by +=intelligible, the reading, this time= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 2: =following him?'"= replaced by =following him'?"= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 3: =she wants most= replaced by =she wants 'most= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 4: =I don't know what 'twas= replaced by =I don' know what +'twas= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 4: =begin with. "That's= replaced by =begin with. That= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 5: =only a course pride= replaced by =only a coarse pride= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 6: =Well we've got to go= replaced by =Well, we've got to go= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 6: =Because Mr. Richmond= replaced by =Because, Mr. Richmond= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 7: ='cause you see= replaced by ='cause, you see= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 7: =where everybody lives?= replaced by =where everybody +lives.= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 7: =making a fool of himself= replaced by =makin' a fool of +himself= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 7: =sight of money= replaced by =sight o' money= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 7: =Taint in 'em= replaced by ='Taint in 'em= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 7: =She is one= replaced by ="She is one= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 8: =you are very presuming= replaced by =You are very +presuming= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 9: =go on using= replaced by =go on, using= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 10: ="Two or three= replaced by =Two or three= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 10: =went on pointing= replaced by =went on, pointing= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 10: =at Shadywalk had= replaced by =at Shadywalk, had= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 10: =because it is shorter= replaced by =becaase it is shorter= +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +Chapter 10: =gruel nicely= replaced by =gruel, nicely= +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Opportunities, by Susan Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OPPORTUNITIES *** + +***** This file should be named 30147-h.htm or 30147-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/1/4/30147/ + +Produced by Daniel Fromont. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Opportunities + +Author: Susan Warner + +Release Date: October 1, 2009 [EBook #30147] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OPPORTUNITIES *** + + + + +Produced by Daniel Fromont. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + +[Transcriber's note: This is the second of a series of four novels by +Susan Warner, all of which are in the Project Gutenberg collection: + + 1. What She Could + 2. Opportunities + 3. The House in Town + 4. Trading] + + + + +OPPORTUNITIES, + + + +A SEQUEL TO "WHAT SHE COULD." + + + + + +BY THE AUTHOR OF + +"THE WIDE WIDE WORLD," &c. + + + +LONDON: + +JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. + +MDCCCLXXI. + + + + + +"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it." Ecc. ix. 10. + + + + + + +OPPORTUNITIES. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +It was the morning after that Sunday when Matilda had been baptized. +The girls came down to prepare breakfast as usual; Maria in a very +unsettled humour. She was cloudy and captious to a degree that Matilda +could not understand. The kitchen was hot; the butter was soft; the +milk was turned; the bread was dry. All things went wrong. + +"It is no wonder the bread is dry," said Matilda; "it has been baked +ever since last Friday." + +"Thursday. I didn't say it was a wonder. Aunt Candy _will_ have the +bread dry. I hate it!" + +"And it is no wonder the butter is soft, if you keep it up here in the +kitchen. The kitchen must be hot, with this hot stove. But the milkman +will be along directly." + +"No, he won't. We always have to wait for him; or take the old milk. +And I can't be bothered to keep the butter down cellar and be running +for it fifty times in an hour. I have enough to do as it is. Whatever +possessed Aunt Erminia to want corn bread this morning!" + +"Does she want corn bread?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, corn bread is nice. I am glad of it." + +"You wouldn't be glad if you had to make it. There! I knew it would be +so. There isn't a speck of soda. Put on your bonnet, Matilda, and run +round to Mr. Sample's and get some soda, will you?--and be quick. We +shall be late, and then there will be a row." + +"There won't be a _row_, Maria. Aunt Candy is always quiet." + +"I wish she wouldn't, then. I hate people who are always quiet. I would +rather they would flare out now and then. It's safer." + +"For what? _Safer_, Maria?" + +"Do go along and get your soda!" exclaimed Maria. "Do you think it will +be safe to be late with breakfast?" + +Maria was so evidently out of order this morning, that her sister +thought the best way was to let her alone; only she asked, "Aren't you +well, Maria?" and got a sharp answer; then she went out. + +It was a delicious spring morning. The air stirred in her face its soft +and glad breaths of sweetness; the sunlight was the very essence of +promise; the village and the green trees, now out in leaf, shone and +basked in the fair day. It was better than breakfast, to be out in the +air. Matilda went round the corner, into Butternut Street, and made for +Mr. Sample's grocery store, every step being a delight. Why could not +the inside world be as pleasant as the outside? Matilda was musing and +wishing, when just before she reached Mr. Sample's door, she saw what +made her forget everything else; even the mischievous little boy who +belonged to Mrs. Dow. What was he doing here in Butternut Street? +Matilda's steps slackened. The boy knew her, for he looked and then +grinned, and then bringing a finger alongside of his nose in a peculiar +and mysterious expressiveness, he repeated his old words-- + +"Ain't you green?" + +"I suppose so," said Matilda. "I dare say I am. What then? Green is not +the worst colour." + +The boy looked at her, a little confounded. + +"If you would come to Sunday-school," Matilda went on, "_you_ would be +a better colour than you are--by and by." + +"What colour be I?" said the boy. + +"You'd be a better colour," said Matilda. "Just come and see." + +"I ain't green," the boy remonstrated. + +Matilda passed on, went into Mr. Sample's and got her soda. She had a +few cents of change. A thought came into her head. Peeping out, she saw +that Mrs. Dow's boy was still lingering where she had left him. +Immediately Matilda requested to have the worth of those cents in +sugared-almonds; and with her little packages went into the street +again. The boy eyed her. + +"What is your name?" said Matilda. + +"Hain't got none." + +"Yes, you have. What does your mother call you at home?" + +"She calls me--the worst of all her plagues," said the fellow, grinning. + +"No, no; but when she calls you from somewhere--what does she call you?" + +"She calls me out of the garding and down from the attic." + +"Look here," said Matilda, showing a sugar-plum; "I'll give you that, +if you will tell me." + +The boy eyed it, and her, and finally said-- + +"Lem." + +"Your name is Lem?" + +He nodded. + +"There, Lem, is a sugar-plum for you. Now if you'll come to +Sunday-school next Sunday, and stay and behave yourself, I'll give you +three more." + +"Three more?" said the boy. + +"Yes. Now come, and you'll like it." + +And Matilda sped home with her soda. + +"I should think you had been making the soda," said Maria; "you have +been long enough. What kept you?" + +"How _do_ they make soda, I wonder?" said Matilda, looking at it. "Do +you know, Maria?" + +"I have enough to do to know how to get breakfast. Tilly, run and grind +the coffee and make it--quick, will you? now I am in a hurry." + +Matilda thought Maria might have done it herself, while she was waiting +for the soda. But she said nothing of that. In ten minutes more the +coffee was made, the corn bread was ready, and the ladies came down. + +Matilda was in a mood as gentle as the morning, and almost as +cloudless. Her morning's work and walk and the meeting with Lem Dow had +given her an appetite; and the work of the night before had left a +harmony in her spirit, as if sweet music were sounding there. Her +little face was thus like the very morning itself, shining with the +fair shining of inward beauty; in contrast with all the other faces at +the table. For Clarissa's features were coldly handsome and calm; Mrs. +Candy's were set and purposeful; and poor Maria's were sadly clouded +and out of humour. Matilda took little heed of them all; she was +thinking of Lemuel Dow. + +"Matilda," said her aunt, suddenly--"I wish you to come to me every +morning to read. A person who has taken the step you took last night, +is no longer a child, but deserves to be treated as a woman. It is +necessary that you should fit yourself for a woman's place. Come to me +at ten o'clock. I will have you read to me some books that will make +you better understand the things you have taken upon you, and the +things you have done." + +"Why, I am a child yet, Aunt Candy," Matilda answered in some dismay. + +"You think so, do you?" + +"Yes, ma'am,--I feel so; and I _am_." + +"I thought you considered yourself more than a child. But you have +assumed a woman's place, and it is now necessary that you should be +fitted for it. _I_ think the best way is to get the preparation first; +but in your church, it seems, they prefer the other course. You are +under my care in the house, at any rate, and I shall do my duty by you." + +"I do not understand you, Aunt Candy," Matilda spoke, quite bewildered. + +"No, my dear, I suppose not. That is just what I think so +objectionable. But we will do what we can to remedy it." + +"What do you want to prepare me for, Aunt Erminia?" + +"For your position, my dear, as a member of the Church. That is not a +child's position. You have placed yourself in it; and now the question +is how to enable you to maintain it properly. I cannot treat you as a +child any longer." + +Matilda wondered very much how she was to be treated. However, silence +seemed the wisest plan at present. + +"I suppose _I_ am a child still," remarked Maria. + +"I have never observed anything inconsistent with that supposition, my +dear," her aunt serenely answered. + +"And if I had been baptized last night, you would have more respect for +me," went on poor Maria. + +"My respect is not wholly dependent on forms, my dear. If it had been +done in a proper way, of course, things would be different from what +they are. I _should_ have more respect for you." + +"Clarissa has done it in a proper way, I suppose?" + +"When she was of a proper age--yes; certainly." + +"And then, what did she promise? All that they promised last night?" + +"The vows are much the same." + +"Well, people ought not to make vows till they are ready to keep +them--ought they?" + +"Certainly they should not." + +"Well----" + +"My dear, it is a very bad habit to begin every sentence with a 'well.' +You do it constantly." + +"Well, Aunt Candy----" + +"There!" exclaimed Clarissa. "Again." + +"Well, I don't care," said Maria. "I can't help it. I don't know when I +do it. I was going to ask--and you put everything out of my head.--Aunt +Candy, do you think Clarissa has given up, really, the pomps and +vanities and all that, you know? She spent twenty-four dollars, I heard +her say, on the trimming of that muslin dress; and she bought a parasol +the other day for ten dollars, when one for three would have done +perfectly well; and she pays always twelve dollars for her boots, +twelve and ten dollars; when she could get nice ones for four and five. +Now what's that?" + +"It's impertinence," said Clarissa. "And untruth; for the four and five +dollar boots hurt my feet." + +"They are _exactly_ the same," said Maria; "except the kid and the +trimming and the beautiful making." + +"Very well," said Clarissa, "I have a right to wear comfortable shoes, +if I can get them." + +"Then you have a right to pomps and vanities," returned Maria; "but I +say you _haven't_ a right, after you have declared and sworn you would +have nothing to do with them." + +"Mamma," said Clarissa, but with heightened colour, "Is this a child?" + +"After the Shadywalk pattern," Mrs. Candy answered. + +"Girls in Shadywalk have a _little_ sense, when they get to be as old +as sixteen," Maria went on. "Where you have been, perhaps they do not +grow up so fast." + +"People would put weights on their heads if they did," said Clarissa. + +"It doesn't matter," said Maria. "You can imagine that I am as old as +you are; and I say that it is more respectable not to make promises and +vows than to make them and not keep them." + +"Do not answer her, my dear," said Mrs. Candy. + +"And that is the reason why I have _not_ been baptized, or whatever you +call it----" + +"I never said so, Maria," said her aunt. "The two things are not the +same." + +"Imagine it!" said Clarissa. + +"Well, you said just now--I don't know what you said!--but you said at +any rate that if it had been done in a proper way, you would think more +of me; and _I_ say, that it is better not to make vows till you are +ready to keep them. I am not ready to give up dancing; and I would have +expensive hats and dresses, and feathers, and watches, and chains, and +everything pretty that money can buy, if I had the money; and I like +them; and I want them." + +"I have not given up dancing," said Clarissa. + +"Nor other things either," retorted Maria; "but they are pomps and +vanities. That is what I say. You promised you would have nothing to do +with them." + +"Mamma!" said Clarissa, appealingly. + +"Yes, my dear," said her mother. "The amount of ignorance in Maria's +words discourages me from trying to answer them." + +"Ignorance and superstition, mamma." + +"And superstition," said Mrs. Candy. + +"Matilda thinks just the same way," Clarissa went on, meeting the broad +open astonished eyes of the little girl. + +"Of course," said Mrs. Candy. "Matilda is too much a child to exercise +her own judgment on these matters. She just takes what has been told +her." + +"Have you given up dancing too, Tilly?" Clarissa went on. + +"I have never thought about it, Cousin Clarissa." + +"Matilda all over!" exclaimed the young lady. "She has not thought +about it, mamma. When she thinks about it, she will know what her part +is." + +"Very well," said Mrs. Candy. "She might do worse." + +"I suppose you think I can't think," said poor Maria. + +"No, my dear; I only think you have not begun yet to use your power in +that direction. When you do, you will see things differently." + +"It would take a good deal of thinking, to make me see that giving up +the world and going into it were the same thing," said Maria. "And I +don't mean to promise to do it till I'm ready." + +"Mamma, this is not very pleasant," said Clarissa. + +"No, my dear. We will leave the field to Maria. Come to me at ten +o'clock, Matilda." + +The two ladies filed off up-stairs, and Maria sat down to cry. Matilda +began to clear the table, going softly back and forth between the +basement and the kitchen as if there were trouble in the house. Maria +sobbed. + +"Ain't they mean?" she exclaimed, starting up at length. Matilda was +busy going in and out, and said nothing. + +"Matilda! Why don't you speak? I say, ain't they mean?" + +"There's no use in talking so, Maria," said her little sister, looking +sorrowful. + +"Yes, there is. People ought to hear the truth." + +"But if you know what is right, why don't you _do_ it, Maria?" + +"I do--as well as I can." + +"But, Maria!--I mean, about what you were saying; giving up whatever is +not right." + +"Things are right for other people, that are not right for members of +the Church. That's why I want to wait awhile. I am not ready." + +"But, Maria, what makes them right for other people?" + +"They have not promised anything about them. Clarissa has _promised_, +and she don't do." + +"You have not promised." + +"No, of course I haven't." + +"But if they are right things, Maria, why _should_ you, or anybody, +promise not to have anything to do with them?" + +"Oh, you are too wise, Matilda!" her sister answered impatiently. +"There is no need for you to go to read with Aunt Candy; you know +everything already." + +The rest of the morning was very silent between the sisters, till it +came to the time for Matilda to present herself in her aunt's room. +There meanwhile a consultation had been held. + +"Mamma, that girl is getting unendurable." + +"Must wait a little while, my dear." + +"What will you do with her then?" + +"Something. I can send her to school, at any rate." + +"But the expense, mamma?" + +"It is not much, at the district school. That is where she has been +going." + +"Matilda too?" + +"I suppose that will be the best place. I am not sure about sending +Matilda. She's a fine child." + +"She will be handsome, mamma." + +"She is very graceful now. She has a singular manner." + +"But she is spoiled, mamma!" + +"I shall unspoil her. Tilly is very young yet, and she has not had +enough to do. I shall give her something else to think of, and get +these absurdities out of her head. She just wants something to do." + +"Mamma, she is not an easy child to influence. She says so little and +keeps her own counsel. I think you don't know her." + +"I never saw the child yet that was a match for me," said Mrs. Candy, +complacently. "I like best one that has some stuff in her. Maria is a +wet sponge; you can squeeze her dry in a minute; no character, no +substance. Matilda is different. I should like to keep Tilly." + +"If you could keep her out of Mr. Richmond's influence, mamma, it would +be a help. That church ruins her. She will be fit for nothing." + +"I will take the nonsense out of her," said Mrs. Candy. "I cannot take +her out of the church, while we remain here, for that would raise a hue +and cry; but I will do as well. Here she comes." + +A little soft knock at the door was followed by the little girl +herself; looking demure and sweet, after her fashion lately. It used to +be arch and sweet. But Matilda had been very sober since her mother's +death. The room into which she came had an air now very unlike all the +rest of the house. Mrs. Englefield's modest preparations for the +comfort of her guests were quite overlaid and lost sight of. It was as +if some fairy had shaken her hand over the room, and let fall pleasant +things everywhere. On the Marseilles quilt a gorgeous silk coverlet lay +folded. On the dressing-table a confusion of vases and bottles, in +coloured glass and painted china, were mixed up with combs and brushes +and fans and watch pockets and taper stands. The table in the middle of +the floor was heaped with elegant books and trinkets and work-boxes and +writing implements; and book stands and book shelves were about, and +soft foot cushions were dropped on the carpet, and easy arm-chairs +stood conveniently, and some faint perfume breathed all through the +room. Mrs. Candy was in one arm-chair and Clarissa in another. + +Matilda was bidden to take a cricket, which she privately resented, and +then her aunt placed in her hands a largish volume and pointed her to +the page where she was to begin. Glancing up and down, at the top of +the page and the beginning of the book, Matilda found it was a +treatise, or a collection of advices, for the instruction of persons +about to be received into the Church. Not a little dismayed by this +discovery, no less than by the heavy look of the pages, Matilda however +began her reading. It was dragging work, as she expected. Her thoughts +wandered. What could her aunt think she wanted with _this_, when she +had Mr. Richmond's instructions? What could these ponderous reasonings +be expected to add to his words? The immediate effect of them certainly +was not salutary to Matilda's mind. + +"My dear, you do not read so well as usual," her aunt said at length. + +Matilda paused, glad to stop even for a little. + +"Your sentences come heavily from your tongue." + +"Yes. They _are_ heavy, aunt Candy." + +"My dear! Those are the words of the Rev. Benjamin Orderly--a very +famous writer, and loved by all good people. Those are excellent words +that you have been reading." + +Matilda said nothing further. + +"Did you understand them?" + +"They did not interest me, aunt Candy." + +"My dear, they ought to interest one who has just taken such a step as +you have taken." + +Matilda wondered privately whether being baptized ought properly to +have any effect to change the natural taste and value of things; but +she did not answer. + +"You understood what you read, did you?" + +Matilda coloured a little. + +"Aunt Candy, it was not interesting, and I did not think about it." + +Mrs. Candy drew the book severely from Matilda's hand. + +"After taking such a step as you took last night, you ought to try to +be interested, if it were only for consistency's sake. Do you see that +you were hasty? A person who does not care about the privileges and +duties of church membership most certainly ought not to be a church +member." + +"But, aunt Candy, I do care," said Matilda. + +"So it seems." + +"I care about it as the Bible speaks of it; and as Mr. Richmond talks +about it." + +"You are very fond of Mr. Richmond, I know." + +Matilda added nothing to that, and there was a pause. + +"Do you want anything more of me, Aunt Candy?" + +"Yes. I want to teach you something useful. Here are a quantity of +stockings of yours that need mending. I am going to show you how to +mend them. Go and get your work-box and bring it here." + +"Couldn't you tell me what you want me to do, Aunt Candy, and let me go +and do it where Maria is?" + +"No. Maria is busy. And I have got to take a good deal of pains to +teach you, Tilly, what I want you to know. Go fetch your box and work +things." + +Matilda slowly went. It was so pleasant to be out of that perfumed room +and out of sight of the Rev. Mr. Orderly's writings. She lingered in +the passages; looked over the balusters and listened, hoping that by +some happy chance Maria might make some demand upon her. None came; the +house was still; and Matilda had to go back to her aunt. She felt like +a prisoner. + +"Now I suppose you have no darning cotton," said Mrs. Candy. "Here is a +needleful. Thread it, and then I will show you what next." + +"This is three or four needlefuls, aunt Candy. I will break it. I +cannot sew with such a thread." + +"Stop. Yes, you can. Don't break it. I will show you. Thread your +needle." + +"I haven't one big enough." + +That want was supplied. + +"Now you shall begin with running this heel," said Mrs. Candy. "See, +you shall put this marble egg into the stocking, to darn upon. Now look +here. You begin down here, at the middle, so--and take up only one +thread at a stitch, do you see? and skip so many threads each time----" + +"But there is no hole there, Aunt Erminia." + +"I know that. Heels should always be run before they come to holes. +There are half-a-dozen heels here, I should think, that require to be +run. Now, do you see how I do it? You may take the stocking, and when +you have darned a few rows, come and let me see how you get on." + +Matilda in a small fit of despair took the stocking to a little +distance and sat down to work. The marble egg was heavy to hold. It +took a long while to go up one side of the heel and down the other. She +was tired of sitting under constraint and so still. And her Aunt Candy +seemed like a jailer, and that perfumed room like a prison. The quicker +her work could be done, the better for her. So Matilda reflected, and +her needle went accordingly. + +"I have done it, Aunt Erminia," she proclaimed at last. + +"Done the heel?" + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"You cannot possibly. Come here and let me look at it. Why, of course! +That is not done as I showed you, Tilly; these rows of darning should +be close together, one stitch just in the middle between two other +stitches; you have just gone straggling over the whole heel. That will +have to come all out." + +"But there is no hole in it," said Matilda. + +"Always darn _before_ the holes come. That will not do. You must pick +it all out, Tilly." + +"Now?" said Matilda, despairingly. + +"Certainly now. You make yourself trouble in that way. I am sorry. Pick +it all neatly out." + +Matilda went at it impatiently; tugged at the thread; pulled the heel +of her stocking into a very intricate drawn-up state; then had to +smooth it out again with difficulty. + +"This is very hard to come out," she said. + +"Yes, it is bad picking," said her aunt, composedly. + +Matilda was very impatient and very weary besides. However, work did +it, in time. + +"Now see if you can do it better," said Mrs. Candy. + +"_Now_, Aunt Erminia?" + +"Certainly. It is your own fault that you have made such a business of +it. You should have done as I told you." + +"But I am _very_ tired." + +"I dare say you are." + +Matilda was very much in the mind to cry; but that would not have +mended matters, and would have hurt her pride besides. She went +earnestly to work with her darning needle instead. She could use it +nicely, she found, with giving pains and time enough. But it took a +great while to do a little. Up one side and down the other; then up +that side and down the first; threading long double needlefuls, and +having them used up with great rapidity; Matilda seemed to grow into a +darning machine. She was very still; only a deep-drawn long breath now +and then heaved her little breast. Impatience faded, however, and a +sort of dulness crept over her. At last she became very tired, so tired +that pride gave way, and she said so. + +Mrs. Candy remarked that she was sorry. + +"Aunt Candy, I think Maria may want me by this time." + +"Yes. _That_ is of no consequence." + +"Maria has got no one to help her." + +"She will not hurt herself," Clarissa observed. + +"Aunt Erminia, wouldn't you just as lieve I should finish this by and +by?" + +"I will think of that," said her aunt. "All you have to do, is to work +on." + +"I am very tired of it!" + +"That is not a reason for stopping, my dear. Rather the contrary. One +must learn to do things after one is tired. That is a lesson I learned +a great while ago." + +"I cannot work so well or so fast, when I am tired," said Matilda. + +"And I cannot work at all while you are talking to me." + +Matilda's slow fingers drew the needle in and out for some time longer. +Then to her great joy, the dinner bell rang. + +"What does Maria mean?" said Mrs. Candy, looking at her watch. "It +wants an hour of dinner-time. Run and see what it is, Matilda." + +Matilda ran down-stairs. + +"Do you think I have five pairs of hands?" inquired Maria, indignantly. +"It is nice for you to be playing up-stairs, and I working as hard as I +can in the kitchen! I won't stand this, I can tell you." + +"Playing!" echoed Matilda. "Well, Maria, what do you want done?" + +"Look and see. You have eyes. About everything is to be done. There's +the castors to put in order, and the lettuce to get ready--I wish +lettuce wouldn't grow!--and the table to set, and the sauce to make for +the pudding. Now hurry." + +It was absolutely better than play, to fly about and do all these +things, after the confinement of darning stockings. Matilda's glee +equalled Maria's discomfiture. Only, when it was all done and the +dinner ready, Matilda stood still to think. "I am sorry I was so +impatient this morning up-stairs," she said to herself. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Matilda's spirits were not quite used up by the morning's experience, +for after dinner she put on her bonnet, and took her Bible, and set off +on an expedition, with out asking leave of anybody. She was bent upon +getting to Lilac Lane. "If I do not get there to-day, I don't know when +I shall," she said to herself. "There is no telling what Aunt Candy +will do." + +She got there without any difficulty. It was an overcast, Aprilish day, +with low clouds, and now and then a drop of rain falling. Matilda did +not care for that. It was all the pleasanter walking. Lilac Lane was at +some distance from home, and the sun had a good deal of power on sunny +days now. The mud was all gone by this time; in its place a thick +groundwork of dust. Winter frost was replaced by soft spring air; but +that gave a chance for the lane odours to come out--not the fragrance +of hawthorn and primrose, by any means. Nor any such pleasant sight to +be seen. Poor, straggling, forlorn houses; broken fences, or no +courtyards at all; thick dust, and no footway; garbage, and ashes, and +bones, but never even so much as a green potato patch to greet the eye, +much less a rose or a pink; an iron shop, and a livery stable at the +entrance of the lane, seeming dignified and elegant buildings by +comparison with what came afterwards. Few living things were abroad; a +boy or two, and two or three babies making discomposure in the dust, +were about all. Matilda wondered if every one of those houses did not +need to have the message carried to them? Where was she to begin? + +"Does Mrs. Eldridge live in this house, or in that?" Matilda asked a +boy in her way. + +"In nary one." + +"Where _does_ she live?" + +"Old Sally Eldridge? Sam's grandmother?" + +"I don't know anything about Sam," said Matilda. "She lives alone." + +"Well, _she_ lives alone. That's her door yonder--where the cat sits." + +"Thank you." Matilda thought to ask if the boy went to Sunday-school; +but she felt as if all the force she had would be wanted to carry her +through the visit to Mrs. Eldridge. It was a forlorn-looking doorway; +the upper half of the door swinging partly open; the cottage dropping +down on one side, as if it was tired of the years when it had stood up; +not a speck of paint to be seen anywhere, and little, bare, broken +windows, not even patched with rags. Matilda walked up to the door and +knocked, sorely appalled at the view she got through the half-open +doorway. No answer. She knocked again. Then a weak, "Who is it?" + +Matilda let herself in. There was a worn and torn rag carpet; an +unswept floor; boards and walls that had not known the touch of water +or soap in many, many months; a rusty little stove with no fire in it; +and a poor old woman, who looked in all respects like her surroundings; +worn and torn and dusty and unwashed and neglected. To her Matilda +turned, with a great sinking of heart. What could _she_ do? + +"Who's here?" said the old woman, who did not seem to have her sight +clear. + +"Matilda Englefield." + +"I don't know no such a person." + +"Maybe you would like to know me," said Matilda. "I am come to see you." + +"What fur? I hain't sent for nobody. Who told you to come?" + +"No, I know you didn't. But I wanted to come and see you, Mrs. +Eldridge." + +"What fur? You're a little gal, bain't you?" + +"Yes, ma'am; and I thought maybe you would like to have me read a +chapter in the Bible to you." + +"A _what?_" said the old woman with strong emphasis. + +"A chapter in the Bible. I thought--perhaps you couldn't see to read it +yourself." + +"Read?" said the old creature. "Never could. I never could see to read, +for I never knowed how. No, I never knowed how; I didn't." + +"You would like to hear reading, now, wouldn't you? I came to read to +you a chapter--if you'll let me--out of the Bible." + +"A chapter?" the old woman repeated--"what's a chapter now? It's no +odds; 'taint bread, nor 'taint 'baccy." + +"No, it is not tobacco," said Matilda; "but it is better than tobacco." + +"Couldn't ye get me some 'baccy, now?" said the old woman, as if with a +sudden thought. But Matilda did not see her way clear to that; and the +hope failing, the failure of everything seemed to be expressed in a +long-drawn "heigh-ho!" which ran wearily down all the notes of the +gamut. Matilda felt she was not getting on. The place and the woman +were inexpressibly forlorn to her. + +"Who sent ye fur to come here?" was next asked. + +"Nobody sent me." + +"What fur did ye come?" + +"I thought you would like to hear a little reading." + +"'Taint a song, is it? I used fur to hear songs oncet; they don't sing +songs in this village. They sells good 'baccy, though. Heigh-ho!" + +Matilda grew desperate. She was not making any headway. As a last +expedient, she opened her book, plunged into the work, and gave in the +hearing of Mrs. Eldridge a few of its wonderful sentences. Maybe those +words would reach her, thought Matilda. She read slowly the +twenty-third psalm, and then went back to the opening verse and read it +again. + +"'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.'" + +Mrs. Eldridge had been very still. + +"A shepherd," she repeated, when Matilda had stopped;--"he used fur to +be a shepherd." + +Matilda wondered very much what the old lady was thinking of. Her next +words made it clearer. + +"He kept sheep fur Mr.--Mr.--him they called the Judge; I don't mind +who he was. He kept sheep for him, he did." + +"Judge Brockenhurst?" + +"That was it--I can't speak his name; he kept his sheep. It was a big +place." + +"Yes, I know Judge Brockenhurst's place," said Matilda; "he has a great +many sheep. _Who_ kept them?" + +"He did, dear. My old man. He kept 'em. It's long sen." + +"Well, didn't he take good care of them, the sheep?" + +"My old man? Ay, did he. There warn't no better a shepherd in the +country. He took care of 'em. The Judge sot a great deal by him." + +"How did he take care of them?" Matilda asked. + +"Oh, I don' know. He watched 'em, and he took 'em round, and he didn't +let no harm happen to 'em. He didn't." + +"Well, this I read was about the Good Shepherd and _His_ sheep. He +takes care of them, too. Don't you think the Lord Jesus takes care of +His sheep?" + +"He don't take no care o' me," said the poor old woman. "There ain't no +care took o' me anywheres--neither in heaven nor in earth. No, there +ain't." + +"But are you one of His sheep?" said Matilda, doubtfully. + +"Eh?" said the woman, pricking up her ears, as it were. + +"Are you one of the Lord's sheep, Mrs. Eldridge?" + +"Am I one of 'em? I'm poor enough fur to be took care of; I am, and +there ain't no care took o' me. Neither in heaven nor on earth. No, +there ain't." + +"But are you one of His sheep?" Matilda persisted. "His sheep follow +Him. Did you ever do that, ma'am? Were you ever a servant of the Lord +Jesus?" + +"A servant? I warn't no servant, nowheres," was the answer. "I had no +need to do that. We was 'spectable folks, and we had our own home and +lived in it, we did. I warn't never no servant o' nobody." + +"But we all ought to be God's servants," said Matilda. + +"Eh?--I hain't done no harm, I hain't. Nobody never said as I done 'em +no harm." + +"But the servants of Jesus love Him, and obey Him, and do what He +says," Matilda repeated, growing eager. "They do just what He says, and +they love Him, and they love everybody, because He gives them new +hearts." + +"I don't know as He never give me nothing," said Mrs. Eldridge. + +"Did you ever ask Him for a new heart? and did you ever try to please +Him? Then you would be one of His sheep, and He would take care of you." + +"Nobody takes no care o' me," said the poor woman, stolidly. + +"Listen," said Matilda. "This is what he says-- + +"'I am the good shepherd; the good shepherd giveth his life for the +sheep.' He cared so much for you as that. 'I am the good shepherd, and +know My sheep, and am known of Mine. As the Father knoweth Me, even so +know I the Father: and I lay down My life for the sheep.' + +"He cared so much for you as that. He died that you might be forgiven +and live. Don't say He didn't care?" + +"I didn't know as He'd never done nothing fur me," said Mrs. Eldridge. + +"He did that. Listen, now, please," + +"'My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me: and I +give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall +any pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them Me, is +greater than all; and none is able to pluck them out of My Father's +hand. I and My Father are one.'" + +Matilda lifted her head and sought, in the faded blue eye over against +her, if she could find any response to these words. She fancied there +was a quieter thoughtfulness in it. + +"That has a good sound," was the old woman's comment, uttered +presently. "But I'm old now, and I can't do nothing; and there ain't +nobody to take care o' me. There ain't." + +Matilda glanced over the desolate room. It was dusty, dirty, neglected, +and poverty stricken. What if _she_ had been sent to "take care" of +Mrs. Eldridge? The thought was exceedingly disagreeable; but once come, +she could not get rid of it. + +"What do you want, Mrs. Eldridge?" she asked at length. + +"I don't want no more readin'. But it has a good sound--a good sound." + +"What would you like to have somebody do for you? not reading." + +"There was folks as cared fur me," said the old woman. "There ain't +none no more. No more. There ain't no one as cares." + +"But if there _was_ some one--what would you tell her to do for +you?--now, to-day?" + +"Any one as cared would know," said Mrs. Eldridge. "There's 'most all +to do. 'Spect I'd have a cup o' tea for my supper--'spect I would." + +"Don't you have tea? Won't you have it to-night?" + +The feeble eye looked over at the little rusty stove. + +"There ain't no fire," she said; "nor nothing to make fire; it's cold; +and there ain't nobody to go out and get it fur me--I can't go pick up +sticks no more. An' if I had the fire, there ain't no tea. There ain't +no one as cares." + +"But what will you have then?" said Matilda. "What do you have for +supper?" + +"Go and look," said Mrs. Eldridge, turning her head towards a corner +cupboard, the doors of which stood a little open. "If there's anything, +it's there; if it ain't all eat up." + +Matilda hesitated; then thought she had better know the state of +things, since she had leave; and crossed to the cupboard door. It was a +problem with her how to open it; so long, long it was since anything +clean had touched the place; she made the end of her glove finger do +duty and pulled the cupboard leaves open. + +She never forgot what she saw there, nor the story of lonely and +desolate life which it told. Two cups and saucers, one standing in a +back corner, unused and full of cobwebs, the other cracked, soiled, +grimy, and full of flies. Something had been in it; what, Matilda could +not examine. On the bare shelf lay a half loaf of bread, pretty dry, +with a knife alongside. A plate of broken meat, also full of flies, and +looking, Matilda thought, fit for the flies alone, was there; a cup +half full of salt; an empty vinegar cruet, an old shawl, ditto hood; a +pitcher with no water; an old muslin cap, half soiled; a faded bit of +ribband, and a morsel of cheese flanked by a bitten piece of +gingerbread. Matilda came back sick at heart. + +"Where do you sleep, Mrs. Eldridge? and who makes your bed? Or can you +make it?" + +"Sleep?" said the old woman. "Nobody cares. I sleep in yonder." + +Matilda looked, doubted, finally crossed the room again and pushed a +little inwards the door Mrs. Eldridge had looked at. She came back +quickly. So close, so ill-smelling, so miserable to her nice senses, +the room within was; with its huddled up bundle of dirty coverlets, and +the soiled bed under them on the floor. Not much of a bed either, and +not much else in the room. A great burden was gathering on Matilda's +heart and shoulders; the burden of the wants of her neighbour, and her +own responsibilities. + +The afternoon was now waning; what was to be done? Matilda tried to +think that somebody would come in and do what she herself was very +unwilling to do; but conscience reminded her that it was very unlikely. +Did that neglected cupboard give much promise of kind attendance or +faithful supply? or that rusty stove look like neighbourly care? But +then Matilda pleaded to herself that she had her own work, and not much +time; and that such a dirty place was very unfit for her nice little +hands. + +"Good-bye, Mrs. Eldridge," she said, lingering. "I'll come and see you +again." + +"'Taint a pleasant place to come to," said the old woman. "'Taint a +pleasant place fur nobody. And nobody comes to it. Nobody comes." + +"I'll come, though," said Matilda. She could do so much as that, she +thought. "Good-bye. I must go home." + +She left the old woman and the house, and began her walk. The lane, she +observed, looked as if other houses and other people in it might be as +ill off as those she had been visiting. "She is not worse than a number +of others, I dare say," thought Matilda. "I could not visit them all, +and I could not certainly take care of them all. It really makes little +difference on the whole, whether or no I kindle Mrs. Eldridge's fire. +It is delightful to get away from the place." + +And then Matilda tried to think that in making her visit and reading to +the old woman, she had really done a good deal; made a good afternoon's +work. Nobody else had done even so much as that; not even anybody in +all Shadywalk. The walk home was quite pleasant, under the soothing +influence of these thoughts. Nevertheless, a little secret point of +uneasiness remained at Matilda's heart. She did not stop to look at it, +until she and Maria went up to bed. Then, as usual, while Maria got +ready for sleep, Matilda knelt down before the table where her open +Bible lay under the lamp; and there conscience met her. + +And when conscience meets any one, it is the same thing as to say that +the Lord meets him. + +That was what Matilda felt this night. For her reading fell upon the +story of the woman who brought the precious ointment for the head of +Jesus, and poured it upon His feet also; whom the Lord, when she was +chidden, commended; saying, "Ye have the poor with you always, and +whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but Me ye have not always. She +hath done what she could." + +Had Matilda? And these poor whom we have always with us, she +recollected that in another place the Lord in a sort identifies Himself +with them, saying that what is done to His poor is done to Himself. +Mrs. Eldridge was not indeed one of the Lord's children, but that did +not help the matter. "For perhaps she will be," Matilda said to +herself. And what if the Lord had sent Matilda there now to be His +messenger? The success of the message might depend on the behaviour of +the messenger. But above all it pressed upon Matilda's heart that she +had not done what she _could;_ and that in declining to make a fire in +Mrs. Eldridge's rusty little stove and in shrinking from waiting upon +her, she had lost a chance of waiting upon, perhaps, the Lord himself. + +"And it was such a good chance," thought Matilda; "such a good +afternoon; and there is no telling when I may get another. It was such +a good opportunity. And I lost it." + +The pain of a lost opportunity was something she had not counted upon. +It pressed hard, and was not easy to get rid of. The disagreeableness +of the place and the service faded into nothing before this pain. +Matilda went to bed with a sore heart, resolving to watch for the very +first chance to do what she had neglected to do this afternoon. + +But Lilac Lane looked very disagreeable to her thoughts the next day, +and the sharp effect of the Bible words had faded somewhat. + +"Maria," she said as they were washing up the dishes after +breakfast,--"I wish you would help me in something." + +"What?" + +"Do you call yourself a member of the Band yet?" + +"Of course I do. What do you ask for?" + +"I did not know," said Matilda, sighing. "You don't _do_ the things +promised in the covenant. I didn't know but you had given it all up." + +"What don't I do?" inquired Maria, fiercely. + +"Don't be angry, please, Maria. I do not mean to make you angry." + +"What don't I do, Matilda?" + +"You know, the covenant says, 'we stand ready to do His will.' He has +commanded that we should be baptized and join the Church, and that we +should follow Him--you know how, Maria. And you don't seem to like to +do it." + +"Is that all?" + +"That is all about that." + +"Then, if you will mind your affairs, Matilda, I will try and mind +mine. And I will be much obliged to you." + +"Then you will not help me?" + +"Help in what?" + +"There is a poor woman, Maria," said her little sister, lowering her +voice, "a poor old woman, who has no one to take care of her, and +hardly anything to live upon. She lives--you can't think how she +lives!--in the most miserable little house, dirty and all; and without +fire or anybody to sweep her room, or make her bed, or make a cup of +tea for her. If you would help me, we might do something to make her +comfortable." + +"Where is she?" + +"In Lilac Lane." + +"Have you been to see her?" + +"Yes." + +"What do you think Aunt Candy would say if she knew it?" + +"Will you help me, Maria?" + +"Help make her bed and sweep her room?" + +"Yes, and get her a cup of tea sometimes, and a clean supper." + +"A clean supper!" exclaimed Maria. "Well! Yes, I guess I'll help you, +when I have nothing of my own to do. When the dinner gets itself, and +the house stays swept and dusted, and Aunt Candy lives without cakes +for breakfast." + +Matilda was silent. + +"But I'll tell you what, Matilda," said her sister, "Aunt Candy will +never let you do this sort of work. You may as well give it up +peaceably, and not worry yourself nor anybody else. She'll never let +you go into Lilac Lane--not to speak of getting dirty people's dinners. +You may as well quit it." + +"Don't tell her, Maria." + +"You'll tell her yourself, first thing," said Maria, scornfully. + +Matilda had to go up-stairs soon to her reading in her aunt's room. It +was even more unintelligible, the reading, this time than before; +because Matilda's head was running so busily on something else. + +"You do not read well, child," said her aunt. + +"No, ma'am. I do not understand it." + +"But it is about what you have just done, Matilda. It is about the +ordinance of baptism, and the life proper to a person who has been +received into the Church. You ought to understand that." + +"I _do_ understand it, in the Bible." + +"What does the Bible say about it?" + +"It says,--'My sheep hear My voice: and I know them, and they follow +Me.'" + +"What do you mean by 'following Him'?" + +"Why, living the sort of life He lived, and doing what He tells us to +do." + +"How do you propose to live the sort of life He lived? It's almost +blasphemy." + +"Why, no, aunt Candy; He tells us to do it." + +"Do what?" + +"Live the sort of life He lived. He says we must follow Him." + +"Well, how, for instance? In what?" + +"You know how _He_ lived," said Matilda. "He helped people, and He +taught people, and He cured people; He was always doing good to people, +and trying to make them good. Especially poor, miserable people, that +nobody cared for." + +"Trying to make them good!" said Mrs. Candy. "As if His omnipotence +could not have made them good in a minute." + +"Then why didn't He?" said Matilda, simply. "It _sounds_ as if He was +trying to make them good." + +"Well, child--it's no use talking; I wish I had had the training of you +earlier," said Mrs. Candy. "You are so prepossessed with ideas that +border on fanaticism, that it is a hard matter to get you into right +habits of thinking. Come here and take your darning." + +So Matilda did. The darning was not wearisome at all to-day, so busy +her thoughts were with the question of Mrs. Eldridge; how much or how +little Matilda ought to do for her, how much she _could_, and what were +the best arrangements to be set on foot. So intent she was on these +questions, that the darning was done with the greatest patience, and +therefore with the greatest success. Mrs. Candy and her daughter even +looked at each other and smiled over the demure, thoughtful little face +of the workwoman; and Matilda got praise for her work. + +She had made up her mind meanwhile that "she hath done what she +could"--should be her rule to go by. So as the after noon was fair, and +Mrs. Candy and her daughter both gone to make a visit at some miles' +distance, Matilda sallied forth. + +"Did she give you leave?" Maria asked, as she saw her sister getting +ready. + +"No." + +"She wants you to ask leave always." + +"I never used to do that," said Matilda. Her voice choked before she +could finish her sentence. + +"You will get into trouble." + +"One trouble is better than another, though," said Matilda; and she +went. + +She went first to Mr. Sample's, and asked how much a pound of tea cost. + +"The last I sent your aunt," said Mr. Sample, "was one fifty a pound; +and worth it. Don't she approve the flavour?" + +"I believe so. But I want a little of another kind, Mr. Sample--if you +have any that is good, and not so high." + +"I have an excellent Oolong here for a dollar. Will you try that?" + +"Please give me a quarter of a pound." + +"She will like it," said Mr. Sample, weighing the quantity and putting +it up; "it really has as much body as the other sort, and I think it is +very nearly as good. The other is fifty cents a pound more. Tell Mrs. +Candy I can serve her with this if she prefers." + +"I want a loaf of bread too, if you please." + +"Baking failed?" said Mr. Sample. "Here, Jem, give this little girl a +loaf." + +He himself went to attend another customer, so Matilda paid for her +purchases without any more questions being asked her. She went to +another store for a little butter, and there also laid in a few +herrings; and then, with a full basket and a light heart, took the way +to Lilac Lane. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Mrs. Eldridge was as she had left her yesterday; a trifle more forlorn, +perhaps. The afternoon being bright and sunny, made everything in the +house look more grimy and dusty for the contrast. Matilda shrank from +having anything to do with it. But yet, the consciousness that she +carried a basket of comfort on her arm was a great help. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Eldridge; how do you do?" she said, cheerily. + +"Is it that little gal?" + +"Yes, it is I, Mrs. Eldridge. I said I would come back. How do you do, +to-day?" + +"I'm most dead," said the poor woman. Matilda was startled; but looking +again, could not see that her face threatened anything like it. She +rather thought Mrs. Eldridge was tired of life; and she did not wonder. + +"You don't feel ill, do you?" + +"No," the woman said, with a long drawn sigh. "There ain't no sickness +got hold o' me yet. There's no one as 'll care when it comes." + +"Would you like a cup of tea this afternoon?" + +"Tea?" said the poor woman, "I don't have no tea, child. Tea's for the +folks as has money, or somebody to care for 'em." + +"But I care for you," said Matilda, gently. "And the Lord Jesus cares. +And He gave me the money to get some tea, and I've got it. Now I'm +going to make a fire in the stove. Is there any wood anywhere?" + +"Fire?" said Mrs. Eldridge. + +"Yes. To boil the kettle, you know. Is there any wood anywhere?" + +"Have you got some tea?" + +"Yes, and now I want to make the kettle boil. Where can I get some +wood?" + +"Kettle?" said the old woman. "I hain't no kettle." + +"No tea-kettle?" + +"No. It's gone. There ain't none." + +"What is there, then, that I can boil some water in?" + +"There's a skillet down in there," said Mrs. Eldridge, pointing to the +under part of the corner cupboard which Matilda had looked into the day +before. She went now to explore what remained. The lower part had once +been used, it seemed, for pots and kettles and stove furniture. At +least it looked black enough; and an old saucepan and a frying-pan, two +flat-irons very rusty, and a few other iron articles were there. But +both saucepan and frying-pan were in such a state that Matilda could +not think of using them. Days of purification would be needed first. So +she shut the cupboard door, and came back to the question of fire; for +difficulties were not going to overcome her now. And there were +difficulties. Mrs. Eldridge could not help her to any firing. She knew +nothing about it. None had been in the house for a long time. + +Matilda stood and looked at the stove. Then she emptied her basket; +laying her little packages carefully on a chair; and went off on a +foraging expedition. At a lumber yard or a carpenter's shop she could +pick up something; but neither was near. The houses in Lilac Lane were +too needy them selves to ask anything at them. Matilda went down the +lane, seeing no prospect of help, till she came to the iron shop and +the livery stable. She looked hard at both places. Nothing for her +purpose was to be seen; and she remembered that there were children +enough in the houses behind her to keep the neighbourhood picked clean +of chips and brushwood. What was to be done? She took a bold resolve, +and went into the iron shop, the master of which she knew slightly. He +was there, and looked at her as she came in. + +"Mr. Swain, have you any little bits of wood that you could let me +have? bits of wood to make a fire." + +"Matilda Englefield, ain't it?" said Mr. Swain. "Bits o' wood? bits of +iron are more in our way--could let ye have a heap o' _them_. Bits o' +wood to make a fire, did ye say? 'twon't be a big fire as 'll come out +o' that 'ere little basket." + +"I do not want a big fire--just some bits of wood to boil a kettle." + +"I want to know!" said Mr. Swain. "You hain't come all this way from +your house to get wood? What's happened to you?" + +"Oh, not for _our_ fire! Oh no. I want it for a place here in the lane." + +"These folks picks up their own wood--you hadn't no need for to trouble +yourself about them." + +"No, but it is some one who cannot pick up her own wood, Mr. Swain, nor +get it any other way; it is an old woman, and she wants a little fire +to make a cup of tea." + +"I guess, if she can get the tea she can get the wood." + +"Somebody brought her the tea," said Matilda, who luckily was not in +one way a timid child. "I will pay for the wood if I can get some." + +"Oh, that's the game, eh?" said the man. "Well, as it's Mis' +Englefield's daughter--I guess we'll find you what will do you--how 'll +this suit, if I split it up for you, eh?" + +He handled an old box cover as he spoke. + +Matilda answered that it was the very thing; and a few easy blows of +Mr. Swain's hatchet broke it up into nice billets and splinters. Part +of these went into Matilda's basket, one end of them at least; the rest +she took with great difficulty in her apron; and so went back up the +lane again. + +It was good to see the glint of the old woman's eyes, when she saw the +wood flung down on the floor. Matilda went on to clear out the stove. +It had bits of coal and clinker in the bottom of it. But she had +furnished herself with a pair of old gloves, and her spirit was +thoroughly up to the work now. She picked out the coal and rubbish, +laid in paper and splinters and wood; now how to kindle it? Matilda had +no match. And she remembered suddenly that she had better have her +kettle ready first, lest the fire should burn out before its work was +done. So saying to Mrs. Eldridge that she was going after a match, she +went forth again. Where to ask? One house looked as forbidding as +another. Finally concluded to try the first. + +She knocked timidly and went in. A slatternly woman was giving supper +to a half dozen children who were making a great deal of noise over it. +The hurly-burly confused Matilda, and confused the poor woman too. + +"What do you want?" she asked shortly. + +"I came to see if you could lend me a tea-kettle for half an hour." + +"What do you want of my tea-kettle?" + +"I want only to boil some water." + +"Hush your noise, Sam Darcy!" said the woman to an urchin some ten +years old who was clamouring for the potatoes--"Who for?" + +"To boil some water for Mrs. Eldridge." + +"You don't live here?" + +"No." + +"Well, my tea-kettle's in use, you see. The cheapest way 'd be for Mrs. +Eldridge to get a tea-kettle for herself. Sam Darcy! if you lay a +finger on them 'taters till I give 'em to you----" + +Matilda closed the door and went over the way. Here she found a +somewhat tidy woman at work ironing. Nobody else in the room. She made +known her errand. The woman looked at her doubtfully. + +"If I let you take my kettle, I don't know when I'll see it agin. Mis' +Eldridge don't have the use of herself so 's she kin come over the +street to bring it back, ye see." + +"I will bring it back myself," said Matilda. "I only want it for a +little while." + +"Is Mis' Eldridge sick?" + +"No. I only want to make her a cup of tea." + +"I hadn't heerd nothin' of her bein' sick. Be you a friend o' hern?" + +"Yes." + +"We've got sickness in _this_ house," the woman went on. "And +everythin's wantin' where there's sickness; and hard to get it. It's my +old mother. She lies in there"--nodding towards an inner room--"night +and day, and day and night; and she'd like a bit o' comfort now and +then as well as another; and 'tain't often as I kin give it to her. +Life's hard to them as hain't got nothin' to live on. I hadn't ought to +complain, and I don't complain; but sometimes it comes over me that +life's hard." + +Here was another! + +"What does she want?" Matilda asked. "Is she very sick?" + +"She won't never be no better," her daughter answered; "and she lies +there and knows she won't never be no better; and she's all as full of +aches as she kin be, sometimes; and other times she's more easy like; +but she lies there and knows she can't never get up no more in this +world; and she wants 'most everythin'. I do what I kin." + +"Do you think you can lend me your tea-kettle? I will be very much +obliged." + +"Well, if you'll bring it back yourself--I 'spose I will. It's all the +kettle I've got." + +She fetched it out of a receptacle behind the stove, brushed the soot +from its sides with a chicken's wing, and handed it to Matilda. It was +an iron tea-kettle, not very large to be sure, but very heavy to hold +at arm's length; and so Matilda was obliged to carry it, for fear of +smutching her frock. She begged a match too, and hastened back over the +street as well as she could. But Matilda's heart, though glad at the +comfort she was about to give, began to be wearily heavy on account of +the comfort she could not give; comfort that was lacking in so many +quarters where she could do nothing. She easily kindled her fire now; +filled the tea-kettle at the pump--this was very difficult, but without +more borrowing she could not help it--and at last got the kettle on, +and had the joy of hearing it begin to sing. The worst came now. For +that tea-cup and saucer and plate must be washed before they could be +used; and Matilda could not bear to touch them. She thought of taking +the unused cup at the back of the shelf; but conscience would not let +her. "You know those ought to be washed," said conscience; "and if you +do not do it, perhaps nobody else will." Matilda earnestly wished that +somebody else might. She had no bowl, either, to wash them in, and no +napkin to dry them. And here a dreadful thought suggested itself. Did +Mrs. Eldridge herself, too, do without washing? There were no towels to +be seen anywhere. Sick at heart, the little girl gathered up the soiled +pieces of crockery in her basket--the basket had a paper in it--and +went over the way again to Mrs. Rogers' cottage. As she went, it +crossed her mind, could Mrs. Rogers perhaps be the other one of those +two in Lilac Lane who needed to have the Bible read to them? Or were +there still others? And how many Christians there had need to be in the +world, to do all the work of it. Even in Shadywalk. And what earnest +Christians they had need to be. + +"Back again a'ready?" said the woman, as she let her in. Matilda showed +what she had in her basket, and asked for something to wash her dishes +in. She got more than she asked for; Sabrina Rogers took them from her +to wash them herself. + +"She has nobody to do anything for her," Matilda observed of the poor +old owner of the cup and saucer. + +"She ain't able to do for herself," remarked Sabrina; "that's where the +difference is. The folks as has somebody to do su'thin' for them, is +lucky folks. I never see none o' that luck myself." + +"But your mother has you," said Matilda, gently. + +"I can't do much for her, either," said Sabrina. "Poor folks must take +life as they find it. And they find it hard." + +"Can your mother read?" + +"She's enough to do to lie still and bear it, without readin'," said +the daughter. "Folks as has to get their livin' has to do without +readin'." + +"But would she like it?" Matilda asked. + +"I wonder when these things _was_ washed afore," said the woman, +scrubbing at them. "Like it? You kin go in and ask her." + +Matilda pushed open the inner door, and somewhat reluctantly went in. +It was decent, that room was; and this disabled old woman lay under a +patchwork quilt, on a bed that seemed comfortable. But the window was +shut, and the air was close. It was very disagreeable. + +"How do you do to-day, Mrs. Rogers?" Matilda said, stepping nearer the +bed. + +"Who's that?" was the question. + +"Matilda Englefield." + +"Who's 'Tilda Eggleford?" + +"I live in the village," said Matilda. "Are you much sick?" + +"Laws, I be!" said the poor woman. "It's like as if my bones was on +fire, some nights. Yes, I be sick. And I'll never be no better." + +"Does anybody ever come to read the Bible to you?" + +"Read the Bible?" the sick woman repeated. Her face looked dull, as if +there had ceased to be any thoughts behind it. Matilda wondered if it +was because she had so little to think of. "What about reading the +Bible?" she said. + +"You cannot read lying there, can you?" + +"There ain't a book nowheres in the house." + +"Not a Bible?" + +"A Bible? I hain't seen a Bible in five year." + +"Do you remember what is in the Bible?" said Matilda, greatly shocked. +This _was_ living without air. + +"Remember?" said the woman. "I'm tired o' 'membering. I'd like to go to +sleep and remember no more. What's the use?" + +"What do you remember?" Matilda asked in some awe. + +"I remember 'most everything," said the woman, wearily. "Times when I +was well and strong--and young--and had my house comfor'ble and my +things respectable. Them times was once. And I had what I wanted, and +could do what I had a mind to. There ain't no use in remembering. I'd +like to forget. Now I lie here." + +"Do you remember nothing else?" said Matilda. + +"I remember it all," said the woman. "I've nothin' to do but think. +When I was first married, and just come home, and thought all the world +was"--she stopped to sigh--"a garden o' posies. 'Tain't much like +it--to poor folks. And I had my children around me--Sabriny's the last +on 'em. She's out there, ain't she?" + +"Yes." + +"What's she doin'?" + +"She is ironing." + +"Yes; she takes in. Sabriny has it all to do. I can't do nothin'--this +five year." + +"May I come and see you again, Mrs. Rogers? I must go now." + +"You may come if you like," was the answer. "I don't know what you +should want to come for." + +Matilda was afraid her fire of pine sticks would give out; and hurried +across the lane again with her basket of clean things. The stove had +fired up, to be sure; and Mrs. Eldridge was sitting crouched over it, +with an evident sense of enjoyment that went to Matilda's heart. If the +room now were but clean, she thought, and the other room; and the bed +made, and Mrs. Eldridge herself. There was too much to think of; +Matilda gave it up, and attended to the business in hand. The kettle +boiled. She made the tea in the tea-cup; laid a herring on the stove; +spread some bread and butter; and in a few minutes invited Mrs. +Eldridge's attention to her supper spread on a chair. The old woman +drank the tea as if it were the rarest of delicacies; Matilda filled up +her cup again; and then she fell to work on the fish and bread and +butter, tearing them to pieces with her fingers, and in great though +silent appreciation. Meanwhile Matilda brought the cupboard to a little +order; and then filling up Mrs. Eldridge's cup for the third time, +carried back the kettle to Sabrina Rogers and begged the loan of an old +broom. + +"What do you want to do with it?" + +"Mrs. Eldridge's room wants sweeping very much." + +"Likely it does! Who's a going to sweep it, though, if I lend you my +broom?" + +"There's nobody but me," said Matilda. + +The woman brought the broom, and, as she gave it, asked, "Who sent you +to do all this?" + +"Nobody." + +"What made you come, then? It's queer play for a child like you." + +"Somebody must do it, you know," said Matilda; and she ran away. + +But Sabrina's words recurred to her. It was queer play. But then, who +would do it? And it was not for Mrs. Eldridge alone. She brushed away +with a good heart, while the poor old woman was hovering over the chair +on which her supper was set, munching bread and herring with a +particularity of attention which shewed how good a good meal was to +her. Matilda did not disturb her, and she said never a word to Matilda; +till, just as the little girl had brought all the sweepings of the +floor to the threshold, where they lay in a heap, and another stroke of +the broom would have scattered them into the street, the space outside +the door was darkened by a figure, the sight of which nearly made the +broom fly out of Matilda's hand. Nobody but Mr. Richmond stood there. +The two faces looked mutual pleasure and surprise at each other. + +"Mr. Richmond!" + +"What _are_ you doing here, Tilly?" + +"Mr. Richmond, can you step over this muss? I will have it away +directly." + +Mr. Richmond stepped in, looked at the figure by the stove, and then +back at Matilda. The little girl finished her sweeping and came back, +to receive a warm grasp of the hand from her minister; one of the +things Matilda liked best to get. + +"Is all this your work, Tilly," he whispered. + +"Mr. Richmond, nobody has given her a cup of tea in a long while." + +The minister stepped softly to the figure still bending over the broken +herring; I think his blue eye had an unusual softness in it. The old +woman pushed her chair back, and looked up at him. + +"It's the minister agin," said she. + +"Are you glad to see me?" said Mr. Richmond, taking a chair that +Matilda had dusted for him. I am afraid she took off her apron to do it +with, but the occasion was pressing. There was no distinct answer to +the minister's question. + +"You seem to have had some supper here," he remarked. + +"It's a good cup o' tea," said Mrs. Eldridge;--"a good cup o' tea. I +hain't seen such a good cup o' tea, not since ten year!" + +"I am very glad of that. And you feel better for it, don't you?" + +"A good cup o' tea makes one feel like folks," Mrs. Eldridge assented. + +"And it is pleasant to think that somebody cares for us," Mr. Richmond +went on. + +"I didn't think as there warn't nobody," said Mrs. Eldridge, wiping her +lips. + +"You see you were mistaken. Here are two people that care for you." + +"She cares the most," said Mrs. Eldridge, with a little nod of her +head towards Matilda. + +"I will not dispute that," said the minister, laughing. "She has cared +fire, and tea, and bread, and fish, hasn't she? and you think I have +only cared to come and see you. Don't you like that?" + +"I used fur to have visits," said the poor old woman, "when I had a +nice place and was fixed up respectable. I had visits. Yes, I had. +There don't no one come now. There won't no more on 'em come; no more." + +"Perhaps you are mistaken, Mrs. Eldridge. Do you see how much you were +mistaken in thinking that no one cared for you? Do you know there is +more care for you than hers?" + +"I don't know why she cares," said Mrs. Eldridge. + +"Who do you think sent her, and told her to care for you?" + +"Who sent her?" the woman repeated. + +"Yes, who sent her. Who do you think it was?" + +As he got but a lack-lustre look in reply, the minister went on. + +"This little girl is the servant of the Lord Jesus Christ; and He sent +her to come and see you, and care for you; and He did that because _He_ +cares. He cares about you. He loves you, and sent His little servant to +be His messenger." + +"He didn't send no one afore," the old woman remarked. + +"Yes, He did," said Mr. Richmond, growing grave, "He sent others, but +they did not come. They did not do what He gave them to do. And now, +Mrs. Eldridge, we bring you a message from the Lord--this little girl +and I do,--that He loves you and wants you to love Him. You know you +never have loved, or trusted, or obeyed Him, in all your life. And now, +the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance." + +"There ain't much as a poor old thing like I can do," she said, after a +long pause. + +"You can trust the Lord that died for you, and love Him, and thank Him. +You can give yourself to the Lord Jesus to be made pure and good. Can't +you? Then He will fit you for His glorious place up yonder. You must be +fitted for it, you know. Nothing that defileth or is defiled can go in; +only those that havt washed their robes and made them white in the +blood of the Lamb. Listen, now, while I read about that." + +Mr. Richmond opened his Bible and read first the seventh chapter of the +Revelation, and then the twenty-second; and Matilda, standing and +leaning on the back of his chair, thought how wonderful the words were, +that even so poor an old helpless creature as the one opposite him +might come to have a share in them. Perhaps the wonder and the beauty +of them struck Mrs. Eldridge too, for she listened very silently. And +then Mr. Richmond knelt down and prayed. + +After that, he and Matilda together took the way home. + +The evening was falling, and soft and sweet the light and the air came +through the trees, and breathed even over Lilac Lane. The minister and +the little girl together drew fresh breaths. It was all so delicious +after the inside of the poor house where they had been. + +"Light is a pleasant thing!" said the minister, half to himself. "I +think, Matilda, heaven will seem something so, when we get there." + +"Like this evening, Mr. Richmond?" + +"Like this evening light and beauty, after coming out of Mrs. +Eldridge's house." + +"And then, will this world seem like Mrs. Eldridge's house?" + +"I think it will, in the contrast. Look at those dainty little flecks +of cloud yonder, low down in the sky, that seem to have caught the +light in their vaporous drapery and embodied it. See what brilliance of +colour is there, and upon what a pure sky beyond!" + +"Will _this_ ever seem like Mrs. Eldridge's house?" said Matilda. + +"This is the world that God made," said the minister, smiling. "I was +thinking of the world that man has made." + +"Lilac Lane, Mr. Richmond?" said Matilda, glancing around her. They +were hardly out of it. + +"Lilac Lane is not such a bad specimen," said the minister, with a sigh +this time. "There is much worse than this, Matilda. And the worst of +Lilac Lane is what you do not see. You had to buy your opportunity, +then?" he added, with a smile again, looking down at Matilda. + +"I suppose I had, Mr. Richmond." + +"What did you pay?" + +"Mr. Richmond, it was not pleasant to think of touching Mrs. Eldridge's +things." + +"No. I should think not. But you are not sorry you came? Don't you +find, that as I said, it pays?" + +"Oh yes, sir! But----" + +"But what?" + +"There is so much to do." + +"Yes!" said the minister, thoughtfully. And it seemed to have stopped +his talk. + +"Is Mrs. Rogers the other one?" Matilda asked. + +"The other one?" repeated Mr. Richmond. + +"The other opportunity. You said there were two in Lilac Lane, sir." + +"I do not know Mrs. Rogers." + +"But she is another one that wants the Bible read to her, Mr. Richmond. +She lives just across the way; I found her out by going to borrow a +tea-kettle." + +"You borrowed your tea-kettle?" + +"Yes, sir. Mrs. Eldridge has none. She has almost nothing, and as she +says, there is nobody that cares." + +"Well, that will not do," said the minister. "We must see about getting +a kettle for her." + +"Then, Mr. Richmond, Mrs. Rogers is a _third_ opportunity. She has been +sick a-bed for five years, and there is not a Bible in the house." + +"There are opportunities starting up on every side, as soon as we are +ready for them," said the minister. + +"But Mr. Richmond--I am afraid,--I am not ready for them." + +"Why so, my dear child? I thought you _were_." + +"I am afraid I was sorry when I found out about Mrs. Rogers." + +"Why were you sorry?" + +"There seemed so much to do, Mr. Richmond; so much disagreeable work. +Why, it would take every bit of time I have got, and more, to attend to +those two; every bit." + +There came a rush of something that for a moment dimmed Mr. Richmond's +blue eyes; for a moment he was silent. And for that moment, too, the +language of gold clouds and sky was a sharp answer--the answer of +Light--to the thoughts of earth. + +"It is very natural," Mr. Richmond said. "It is a natural feeling." + +"But it is not right, is it?" said Matilda, timidly. + +"Is it like Jesus?" + +"No, sir." + +"Then it cannot be right. 'Who being in the form of God, thought it not +robbery to be equal with God; but made Himself of no reputation, and +took upon Himself the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness +of men: and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself and +became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.' + +"Who 'pleased not Himself.' Who 'had not where to lay His head!' Who, +'though He was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor.' 'He laid down +His life for us, and we ought to lay our lives down for the brethren.'" + +Matilda listened, with a choking feeling coming in her throat. + +"But then what can I do, Mr. Richmond? how can I help feeling so?" + +"There is only one way, dear Matilda," said her friend. "The way is, to +love Jesus so much, that you like His will better than your own; so +much, that you would rather please Him than please yourself." + +"How can I get that, Mr. Richmond?" + +"Where we get all other good things. Ask the Lord to reveal Himself in +your heart, so that the love of Him may take full possession." + +The walk was silent for the greater part of the remaining way--silent +and pleasant. The colours of sunset faded away, but a cool, fair, clear +heaven carried on the beauty and the wordless speech of the earlier +evening. At Matilda's gate Mr. Richmond stopped, and holding her hand +still, spoke with a bright smile. + +"I will give you a text to think about and pray over, Matilda." + +"Yes, Mr. Richmond." + +"Keep it, and think of it, and pray about it, till you understand it, +and love it." + +"Yes, Mr. Richmond. I will." + +"The words are these. You will find them in the fourth chapter of the +Second Epistle to the Corinthians." + +"In the fourth chapter of the Second Epistle to the Corinthians. Yes, +sir." + +"These are the words. 'Always bearing about in the body the dying of +the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in +our body.' Good night." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Matilda thought so much over Lilac Lane and the words Mr. Richmond had +given her, that Maria charged her with being unsociable. Much Matilda +wished that she could have talked with her sister about those same +words; but Maria was in another line. + +"You are getting so wrapped up in yourself," she said, "there is no +comfort in you. I might as well have no sister; and I guess Aunt Candy +means I shan't. She gives you all the good times, up in her room, among +the pretty things; I am only fit for washing dishes. Well, it's her +opinion; it isn't mine." + +"I don't have a good time up there, Maria, indeed. I would a great deal +rather be down here washing dishes, or doing anything." + +"What do you go there for, then?" + +"I have to go." + +"We didn't use to _have_ to do anything, when mamma was living. I +wouldn't do it, if I were you, if I didn't like it." + +"I don't like it," said Matilda; "but I think I ought to do what Aunt +Candy wishes, as long as it is not something wrong." + +"She'll come to that," said Maria; "or it'll be something you will +think wrong; and then we shall have a time! I declare, I believe I +shall be glad!" + +"What for, Maria?" + +"Why! Then I shall have you again. You'll come on my side. It's lonely +to have the dirty work all to myself. I don't suppose you mind it." + +"Indeed, but I do," said Matilda. "I don't like to sit up-stairs +darning stockings." + +"And reading. And I don't know what." + +"The reading is worse," said Matilda, sighing. "It is something I do +not understand." + +"What does she make you do it for?" + +"I don't know," said Matilda, with another sigh. "But I want to do +something else dreadfully, all the time." + +The darning was very tedious indeed the morning after this talk. +Matilda had got her head full of schemes and plans that looked +pleasant; and she was eager to turn her visions into reality. It was +stupid to sit in her aunt's room, taking up threads on her long needle +exactly and patiently, row after row. It had to be done exactly, or +Mrs. Candy would have made her pick it all out again. + +"Yes, that is very well; that is neat," said Mrs. Candy, when Matilda +brought her the stocking she had been at work on, with the heel +smoothly run. "That will do. Now you may begin upon another one. There +they are, in that basket." + +"But, Aunt Candy," said Matilda, in dismay, "don't you think I have +learned now how to do it?" + +"Yes, pretty well." + +"Then, need I do any more?" + +"A little further practice will not hurt you. Practice makes perfect, +you know." + +"But do you mean that I must darn all those stockings." + +"Aren't they yours?" + +"Yes, ma'am; I believe they are." + +"Who should darn them, then?" + +Matilda very sorrowfully remembered the hand which did darn them once +and thought it no hardship. Her hand went swiftly up to her eyes before +she spoke again. + +"I think it is right I should do them, and I will. May I take them away +and do them in my own room?" + +"You may do exactly what I tell you, my dear." + +"Does it make any difference, Aunt Candy?" + +"That is something you need not consider. All you have to do is to obey +orders. The more promptly and quietly, the easier for you, Matilda." + +Matilda coloured, bridled, kept down the wish to cry, and began upon +the second heel of her stockings. She was tired of that long needle and +its long needleful of double thread. + +"Matilda," said her aunt, "put down your stocking and look at me." + +Which Matilda did, much surprised. + +"When you wish to answer any thing I say, I prefer always that you +should answer me in words." + +"Ma'am?" said Matilda. + +"You heard me." + +"But I did not understand you." + +"Again!" said Clarissa. + +"I do not like to be answered by gestures. Do you understand that?" + +"No, ma'am; I do not know what you mean by saying it." + +"You do not know that you answered me by a toss of your head just now?" + +"No, ma'am; certainly not." + +"I am very glad to hear it. Don't do it again." + +It would have been very like Matilda to do it again just there; but +bewilderment quite put down other emotions for the time, except the +sense of being wronged, and that is a feeling very hard to bear. +Matilda had scarcely known it before in her little life; the sensation +was as new as it was painful. She was utterly unconscious of having +done anything that ought to be found fault with. The darning needle +went very fast for the next half-hour; and Matilda's cheek was bright. + +"They haven't got a fire up-stairs, have they?" Maria questioned, when +her little sister rejoined her. + +"No, not to-day. Why?" + +"You look as if you had been somewhere where it was warm." + +But Matilda did not say what sort of fire had warmed her. + +She forgot all about it, and about all other grievances, as soon as she +was free to go out in the afternoon; for now some of her visions were +to be realised. Yesterday afternoon had been so pleasant, on the whole, +that Matilda determined to seek a renewal of the pleasure. And first +and foremost, she had determined to get Mrs. Eldridge a tea-kettle. She +had money enough yet; only her Bible and yesterday's purchases had come +out of her twenty-five dollars. "A tea-kettle--and what else?" thought +Matilda. "Some towels? She does dreadfully want some towels. But then, +I cannot get everything!" + +Slowly going towards the corner, with her eyes on the ground, her two +hands were suddenly seized by somebody, and she was brought to a +stand-still. + +"Norton!" cried Matilda, joyously. + +"Yes. What has become of you?" + +"Oh, I have been so busy!" + +"School?" said Norton. + +"Oh no! I don't go to school. I have things to do at home." + +"Things!" said Norton. "Why don't you speak straight? What things? your +lessons?" + +"I don't have lessons, Norton," said the child, patiently, lifting her +eyes to Norton's face. "My aunt gives me other things to do." + +"Don't you have lessons at all?" said Norton. + +"Not now. I wish I did." + +"Where are you going now, Pink?" + +"Pink!" echoed Matilda. + +"Yes, that's your name. Where are you going? Come home with me." + +"I have got business, Norton." + +"You haven't got"--said Norton, peering round--"yes, I declare she +_has_ got--that Bible tucked under her arm! Are you going to see nobody +again?" + +Matilda nodded. + +"I'll go too," said Norton, "and find out what it all means. Give me +the book, and I'll carry it." + +"But, Norton!" said Matilda, holding the Bible fast, "I would like to +have you, but I am afraid you wouldn't like it." + +"Like what, Pink? The Bible?" + +"Oh no. Oh _yes_, I wish you did like that; but I mean, where I am +going." + +"Do you like it?" + +"I like to go. I don't like the place, Norton, for the place is very +disagreeable." + +"So I should think. But I might like to go too, you know. I'm going to +try." + +Matilda stood still and looked very dubious. + +"I'm going," Norton repeated, laughing. "You want me to go, don't you?" + +"Why, I would like it very much, if you would not"---- + +"What? No, I will not," said Norton, shaking his head. + +"But, Norton, I am going into Mr. Forshew's, first." + +"Well; I can go into Mr. Forshew's too. I've been _there_ before." + +"I am going to buy a tea-kettle." + +"I shall not interfere with that," said Norton. + +"But I am going to get a tea-kettle and take it along with me--to Lilac +Lane." + +"What for? They'll send it if you want it." + +"I want it immediately, and Mr. Forshew's boy is never there when he is +wanted, you know." + +"_You_ want the tea-kettle immediately. You are not going to make tea +immediately, are you?" + +"Exactly that, Norton. That is one of the things I am going to do. And +the poor old woman I am going to see has no tea-kettle." + +"Then I don't believe she has tea." + +"Oh yes, but I know she has tea, Norton." + +"And bread and butter?" + +"Yes, and bread and butter too," said Matilda, nodding her little head +positively. Norton looked at her with a perfectly grave face. + +"It must be a very odd house," said he, "I don't see how you can be so +sure of things." + +Matilda began to walk on towards the corner. + +"Who took her tea and bread and butter?" said Norton. "I suppose you +know, if you know the rest." + +"Of course, somebody must have done it," said Matilda, hesitating. + +"I wonder if there was a Pink anywhere among the things," said Norton. +"Did you see anything of it?" + +Matilda could not help laughing, and they both laughed; and so they +went into Mr. Forshew's shop. It was a little, low shop, just on the +corner; but, to be sure, there was a great variety, and a good +collection of things there. All sorts of iron things, and a great many +sorts of tin things; with iron dust, and street dust, plentifully +overlying the shop and everything in it. Stoves were there in variety; +chains, and brooms, and coal-skuttles; coffee-mills, and axes, and +lamps; tin pails, and earthen batter jars; screws, and nails, and +hinges, and locks; and a telegraph operator was at work in a corner. +Several customers were there too; Matilda had to wait. + +"It is odd now," said Norton. "I suppose, if I wanted to spend money +here, I should buy everything else in the world _but_ a tea-kettle. +That's what it is to be a girl." + +"Nonsense!" said Matilda, and the set of her head was inimitable. +Norton laughed. + +"That's what it is to be a Pink," he said. "I forgot. I don't believe +there is another girl in town wants a tea-kettle but you. What else do +you want, Pink?" + +"A great deal," said Matilda; "but I can't get all I want." + +"You don't want an axe, for instance; nor a coffee-mill; nor a tin +pail, nor an iron chain, nor a dipper; nor screws, nor tacks; nor a +lamp, do you? nor a box of matches"---- + +"Oh yes, Norton! Oh yes, that is just what I do want; a box of matches. +I never should have thought of it." + +"How about stoves, Pink? Here are plenty." + +"She has a stove. Don't be ridiculous, Norton." + +And Mr. Forshew being just then at leisure, Matilda purchased a little +tin tea-kettle, and came out with it in triumph. + +"Now is that all?" said Norton. "How about the bread and butter? +Perhaps it has given out." + +"No, I think not. I guess there is enough. Perhaps we had better take +another loaf of bread, though. We shall pass the baker's on our way." + +"Have you got money enough for every thing you want, Pink? does your +aunt give you whatever you ask for?" + +"Oh, I never ask her for anything," said Matilda. + +"Take it without asking?" + +"I do not ask, and she does not give me, Norton. But once she did, when +she first came; she gave me, each of us, twenty-five dollars. I have +got that, all that is left of it." + +"How much is left of it?" + +"Why, I don't know exactly. I spent four dollars for something else; +then eighty-five cents yesterday; and a dollar just, to-day. That +makes"---- + +"Five eighty-five," said Norton. "And that out of twenty-five, leaves +nineteen fifteen." + +"I've got that, then," said Matilda. + +"And no hope of more? That won't do, Pink. Nineteen dollars won't last +for ever at this rate. Here's the baker's." + +The bread Norton paid for and carried off, and the two stepped along +briskly to Lilac Lane. + +Matilda was very glad privately that she had swept Mrs. Eldridge's +floor yesterday. The place looked so much the more decent; though as it +was, Norton cast his eyes around him whistling low, and Matilda knew +well enough that he regarded it as a very odd place for either himself +or Pink to find themselves in. + +"What's to be done now?" he inquired of her, as she was putting the +bread and matches on a shelf of the cupboard. + +"The first thing is to make a fire, Norton. I've got wood enough here. +And the matches." + +"_You_ have got," said Norton, stooping to fetch out the sticks from +the lower cupboard where Matilda had stowed them. "Did you get it? +Where did you get it?" + +"Mr. Swain split it up for me,--at the iron shop, you know." + +"Did you go to the iron shop for it? And bring it back yourself?" + +"There was nobody else to do it," said Matilda. + +"You're a brick!" said Norton. "That's what I said. But is this all, +Pink?" + +"It is plenty, Norton." + +"Plenty for to-day. It won't last for any more. What then?" + +"I don't know," said Matilda. "O Norton, are _you_ going to make the +fire?" + +Norton showed that such was his intention, and showed besides that he +knew very well what he was about. Matilda, after looking on admiringly, +ran off to the pump with her kettle. The pump was at some distance; +before she could fill her kettle and come back, Norton overtook her. He +quietly assumed the tea-kettle, as a matter of course. + +"Oh, thank you, Norton! how good you are," Matilda exclaimed. "It was +heavy." + +"Look here. Do you come here to do this sort of thing all by yourself?" +said Norton. + +"I cannot help that," said Matilda. "And I like to do it, too." + +"You mustn't," said Norton. + +"Who will, then, Norton? And the poor old woman cannot do anything for +herself." + +"Isn't there somebody in the world to take care of her?" + +"No; nobody." + +"That's a shame. And I don't believe it, either." + +"Oh, but there is nobody, Norton. She is quite alone. And if some one +will not help her, she must go without everything." + +Norton said no more, but he looked very much disgusted with this state +of society. He silently watched what Matilda was doing, without putting +in any hinderance or hinting at any annoyance further, which, she +thought, was very good of him. Instead of that, he looked after the +fire, and lifted the kettle when it was needful. Matilda, as yesterday, +made the tea, and spread bread and butter, and cooked a herring; and +then had the satisfaction of seeing the poor old woman luxuriating over +what was to her a delicious meal. She had said very little since their +coming in, but eyed all they did, with a gradual relaxing of the lines +of her face. Something like pleasure, something like comfort, was +stealing into her heart, and working to soften those hard lines. +Matilda waited now until the meal should be quite finished before she +brought forward anything of different interest. + +"That's a new kettle," was the first remark, made while Matilda was +clearing away the remains of the supper. + +"How do you like it?" said Norton. + +The old woman looked at him, she had done that a great deal already, +and answered, "Who be you?" + +"I'm the fellow that brought the kettle from the shop," said Norton. + +"Whose kettle is it?" + +"It ought to be your's--it's on your stove." + +"It is your's, Mrs. Eldridge," said Matilda. + +"Well, I hain't had a tea-kettle," said the old woman, meditatively, +"since--I declare, I don't know when 'twas. I hain't had a tea-kettle, +not since my old un fell down the well. I never could get it out. That +one hadn't no kiver." + +"Don't let this one get down in the well," said Norton. + +"I shan't go to the well no more," said Mrs. Eldridge. "When I had a +place, and a well, and a bucket, it was good times! That ain't my +kettle." + +"Yes, Mrs. Eldridge, it is," said Matilda. "It is your's; and it just +fits the stove hole." + +"A kettle's a good thing," said the old woman. "It looks good." + +"Now would you like to have a little reading again?" Matilda inquired, +bringing out her Bible. + +"Have you got anything more about the--what was it? I don' know what +'twas." + +"About the shepherd? the Good Shepherd?" + +"You may read a bit about that," said the old woman. "There ain't no +shepherds now, is there?" + +"Plenty of 'em," said Norton. + +"It don't seem as if there was no place for 'em to keep the sheep. _I_ +don't see none. But he used for to be a shepherd; and he took good care +of 'em, he did." + +"The Lord Jesus is the Good Shepherd; and He takes good care of His +sheep," said Matilda. "He cares for them always. He cares for you, Mrs. +Eldridge." + +The old woman made no answer to this; but instead, sat with so +meditative a look upon her face that Matilda, though she had her book +open to read, forbore, and waited. + +"Did He send you?" said Mrs. Eldridge. + +Norton glanced a quick look of amusement at Matilda, but Matilda simply +answered. "Yes." + +"I didn't know as there was any one as cared," she said, slowly. + +Matilda began to read, upon that; giving her the twenty-third psalm +again; then the tenth chapter of John; finishing with one or two +passages in the Revelation. Norton stood in the doorway while she read, +looking out and looking in, very quiet; and Mrs. Eldridge sat and +listened and gave tremulous shakes of her old head, and was very quiet +too. + +"I must go now," said Matilda, when she had done and had paused a few +minutes. + +"It has a good sound," said the old woman. + +"It's true," said Matilda. + +And she and Norton took their leave. Then began a joyous walk home. + +"Pink," said Norton, when they were got a little way from the house, +"you made your tea in a tea-cup." + +"Yes; there is only a wretched little tin tea-pot there, not fit to be +used; it is in such a state." + +"No spoons either?" + +"No, and no spoons. There is hardly anything there at all, Norton." + +"I don't see how people come to be so poor," said Norton. + +"No, _I_ don't," said Matilda. "But she is old, you see, and cannot +help herself, and has no one left that does care about her. Nobody in +the world, I mean." + +"That house is in a tremendous condition," said Norton. "For dirt I +mean." + +"Yes, I know it." + +"I don't see why somebody hasn't cleaned it before now." + +"Why, Norton, who should do it? None of the neighbours care anything +about her." + +"Is she bad?" + +"No, Norton, not bad at all; but they are poor too, and ill, some of +them, and they have their own work to do, and their own things to get, +and they haven't anything to spare for her." + +"She was glad of that tea-kettle." + +"Wasn't she! I could see that." + +"But I say, Pink! I don't see how people come to be so poor. There's +money enough." + +"For some people," said Matilda. + +"Money enough for everybody." + +"Perhaps, if it was divided," said Matilda. "But, Norton, it isn't. The +rich people have got it almost all." + +"Have they?" said Norton. "Then they ought to look out for such poor +chaps as this." + +"So I think, Norton," said Matilda, eagerly. + +"But, Pink, _you_ can't do it. You are only one, and you can't take +care of all Lilac Lane, to begin with. That's what I am thinking about." + +"No, not all the lane. But I can do something. I can read to Mrs. +Eldridge, and Mrs. Rogers." + +"You can't buy tea-kettles, though, for Mrs. Eldridge and Mrs. Rogers, +with the tea, and the sugar, and the bread and butter, and the fish, +and the mutton-chops they will all want. Your nineteen dollars will +soon be gone at that rate." + +"Mutton-chops!" echoed Matilda. "Norton, they do not see anything so +good as mutton-chops." + +"They ought to," said Norton. "They have as much right as other folks." + +"But they _can't_, Norton." + +"Yes, they can, Pink. We'll take 'em some for once. They shall know how +mutton tastes." + +"O Norton!" said Matilda in a low voice of delight, "how good that +would be!" + +"But what I _say_," continued the boy, with emphasis,--"you cannot go +on doing this. Your money will not last." + +"I can do what I can," said Matilda, softly. + +"But what's the use, Pink? All you can do will just touch one old +woman, perhaps, a few times; and then Lilac Lane will not be any better +off than it was. And anyhow, you only touch one. What's the use?" + +"Why--the use of that one." + +"Yes, but it don't really make any difference to speak of, when you +think of all the people that you cannot help. The world won't be any +better; don't you see?" + +"If I was the one to be helped, I should think it made a great deal of +difference, Norton." + +Norton could not dispute that view of the case, though he whistled over +it. + +"Pink, will you come and play croquet to-morrow?" + +"To-morrow? I will see if I can," said Matilda, with a brightening face. + +"What's to hinder you?" + +"I don't know that anything. If Aunt Candy will let me." + +"Does _she_ hinder you?" + +"Sometimes," Matilda said, hesitating. + +"What for?" + +"I do not know. That puzzles me, Norton." + +"_How_ does she hinder you?" said the boy, stopping short with a scowl +upon his brow. + +"She won't let me go out, sometimes; I don't know why. Then besides, I +have to spend a good deal of time reading to her, and darning +stockings; and I have a great many other things to do, Norton." + +"Well, come to-morrow, Pink; or I shall come after you. Hulloa! see +that squirrel"---- + +And Norton set off on such a race and chase after the squirrel, that +Matilda stopped to look on in sheer admiration. The race was not +fruitful of anything, however, but admiration, and the rest of the way +they hurried home. + +It was a trembling question with Matilda, could she go to play croquet +the next day? She could not go in her work dress; and she feared to +change her dress and so draw attention, lest her aunt should put a stop +to her going out at all. She debated the matter a good deal, and +finally concluded to make an open affair of it and ask leave. + +"To go to Mrs. Laval's," said Mrs. Candy, meditating. + +"Who is going to play croquet, besides you?" inquired Clarissa. + +"I do not think anybody is to be there besides me," said Matilda. + +"Well," said Mrs. Candy, "I suppose you had better go, with my +compliments and thanks to Mrs. Laval. Put on your white dress, Matilda, +and I will tie a ribband round your waist." + +The white dress and the black ribband were duly put on, and Matilda set +out, very happy indeed, only sorry that Maria was left behind. She got +a glad welcome from Norton, who was at the iron gate watching for her. +And when she came to the door of the house, Matilda was fain to stand +still and look, everything was so beautiful. It was very different from +last winter, when the snow covered all the world. Now the grass was +soft and green, cut short and rolled smooth, and the sunlight made it +seem almost golden. The rose-bushes were heavy and sweet with great +cabbage roses and delicate white roses, and gay yellow roses made an +elegant variety. Overhead, the golden clusters of a laburnum tree +dropped as if to meet them. Then there were pinks, and violets, and +daisies; and locust trees a little way off, standing between the house +and the sun, made the air sweet with their blossoms. Every breath was +charged with some delicious perfume or other. The house stood +hospitably and gaily open in summer dress; the farm country lay rich in +the sun towards the west; and the mountains beyond, having lost all +their white coating of snow long ago, were clothed in a kind of drapery +of purple mist. + +"What's the matter?" said Norton. + +"It's so beautiful!" said Matilda. + +"Oh, is that all! Come in. Mamma wants to see you." + +In the house, over floors marble and matted, through rooms green with +the light that came through the blinds, cool in shadow, but from which +the world without looked like a glittering fairyland, so they went +passing from one to another, till they found the mistress of the house. +She was not in the house, but in a deep wicker chair on the shady side +of the verandah. + +"Here she is!" the lady exclaimed as she saw them, throwing aside the +book which had been in her hands, and drawing Matilda into her arms +instead. "My dear child--so you've come. Norton and I are very glad. +How do you do? You are thin." + +"Am I?" said Matilda. + +"I am afraid you are. What are you going to do? play croquet? it's too +warm yet. Sit down here and have some strawberries first. Norton, you +get her some strawberries." + +She put Matilda affectionately into a chair and took off her hat. + +"And how do you like croquet?" + +"Oh, very much! But I do not know how to play yet," said Matilda. + +"Norton will teach you." + +"Yes, ma'am," Matilda said, with a happy look. + +"I think Norton is making a little sister of you," Mrs. Laval said +tenderly, drawing her hand down Matilda's cheek. "Do you know, Norton +once had a little sister as old as you?" + +The lady's tone had changed. Matilda only looked, she dared not speak +in answer to this. + +"I think he wants to make a sister of you," Mrs. Laval repeated +wistfully, her hand dropping to Matilda's hand and taking hold of that. +"How would you like to be Norton's sister?" + +"Oh, I should like it very much!" Matilda answered, half eagerly, but +her answer touched with a soberness that belonged to the little sister +and daughter that Norton and Mrs. Laval had lost. There was a delicate, +sensitive manner about both her face and her voice as she spoke, +perfectly intelligible to the eyes that were watching her; and the +response to it was startling, for Mrs. Laval suddenly took the child in +her arms, upon her lap, though Matilda never knew how she got there, +and clasping her close, half smothered her with kisses, some of which +Matilda felt were wetted with tears. It was a passion of remembered +tenderness and unsatisfied longing. Matilda was astonished and passive +under caresses she could not return, so close was the clasp of the arms +that held her, so earnest the pressure of the lips that seemed to +devour every part of her face by turns. In the midst of this, Norton +came with the strawberries, and he too stood still and offered no +interruption. But when a pause in Mrs. Laval's ecstasy gave him a +chance, he said low,-- + +"Mrs. Beechy, mamma, and Miss Beechys, are there." + +Mrs. Laval was quiet a moment, hiding her face in Matilda's neck; then +she put her gently down, rose up, and met some ladies who were coming +round the corner of the verandah, with a tone and bearing so cool, and +careless, and light, that Matilda asked her ears if it was possible. +The guests were carried off into the house; Matilda and Norton were +left alone. + +It was Matilda's turn then. She set down the plate of strawberries +Norton had given her, and hid her face in her hands. + +Norton bore this for a minute, and no more. Then one of his hands came +upon one of Matilda's, and the other upon the other, very gently but +decidedly suggesting that they should come down. + +"Pink!" said he, "this may do for mamma and you, but it is very poor +entertainment for me. Come! leave that, and eat your strawberries, and +let us go on the lawn. The sun will do now." + +Matilda felt that this was reasonable, and she put by her own +gratification. Nevertheless her eyes and eyelashes were all glittering +when she lifted them up. + +"What has mamma done to you?" said Norton, wondering. "Here, Pink, do +you like strawberries?" + +"If you please, Norton," said Matilda, "couldn't I have them another +time? I don't want them now." + +"Then they may wait till we have done playing," said Norton; "and then +I'll have some too. Now come." + +The great trees cast a flickering shadow on the grass before the house. +Norton planted his hoops and distributed colours, and presently +Matilda's sober thoughts were driven as many ways as the balls; and +_they_ went very widely indeed. + +"You must take _aim_, Matilda?" Norton cried. + +"At what?" + +"Why, you must learn at what; that's the game. You must fight; just as +I fight you. You ought to touch my ball now, if you can. I don't +believe you can. You might try." + +Matilda tried, and hit it. The game went on prosperously. The sun got +lower, and the sunbeams came more scattering, and the breeze just +stirred over the lawn, not enough to bend the little short blades of +grass. Mrs. Laval's visitors went away, and she came out on the +verandah to look at the children; they were too much engaged to look at +her. At last the hard-fought battle came to an end. Norton brought out +another plate of strawberries for himself along with Matilda's, and the +two sat down on the bank under the locust trees to eat them. The sun +was near going down beyond the mountains by this time, and his setting +rays changed the purple mist into a bath of golden haze. + +"How nice and cold these are," said Matilda. + +"They have been in the ice. That makes things cold," observed Norton. + +"And being warm one's self makes them seem colder," said Matilda. + +"Why, are you warm, Pink?" + +"Yes, indeed. I have had to fight you so hard, you know." + +"You did very well," said Norton, in a satisfied tone. + +"Norton, how pretty it all is to-night." + +Norton ate strawberries. + +"Very different from Lilac Lane," said Matilda, looking at the china +plate in her hand, on which the painting was very fine and delicate. + +"Rather different," said Norton. + +"Norton,--I was thinking of what you said yesterday; how odd it is that +some people should be rich and others poor." + +"I am glad I am one of the first sort," said Norton, disposing of a +very large strawberry. + +"But isn't it strange?" + +"That is what I said, Pink." + +"It don't seem right," said Matilda, thoughtfully + +"Yes, it does." + +"It doesn't to me." + +"How can you help it?" + +"Why _I_ cannot help it, Norton; but if everybody that is rich chose, +they could help it." + +"How?" + +"Don't you think they ought?" + +"Well how, Pink? If people were industrious and behaved right, they +wouldn't be poor, you see." + +"Oh, but, Norton, they would sometimes. There is Mrs. Eldridge, and +there are the poor women at Mrs. Rogers', and a great many more like +them." + +"Well if _somebody_ hadn't behaved wrong," said Norton, "they wouldn't +be so hard up." + +"Oh, but that does not help them." + +"Not much." + +"And they ought to be helped," said Matilda, slowly examining the +painted flowers on the china in her hand, and remembering Mrs. +Eldridge's cracked delf tea-cup. + +"That plate would buy up the whole concern where we were yesterday, +wouldn't it?" + +Matilda looked up suddenly, at Norton's thus touching her thought; but +she did not like to pursue it. Norton, however, had no scruples. + +"Yes; and these strawberries, I suppose, would feed her for a week--the +old woman, I mean. And one of our drawing-room chairs would furnish her +house, pretty near. Yes, I guess it would. And I really think one week +of the coal we burned a few months ago would keep her, and Mrs. Rogers +too, warm all winter. And I am certain one of mamma's dresses would +clothe her for a year. Seems queer, don't it." + +"And she is cold, and hungry, and uncomfortable," said Matilda. The two +looked at each other. + +"But then, you know, if mamma gave one of her dresses to clothe this +old woman, she would have to give another to clothe some other old +woman; and the end would be, she would have no dresses for herself. And +if she tried to warm all the cold houses, she wouldn't have firing to +cook her own dinner. You see it has to be so, Pink; some rich and some +poor. And suppose these strawberries had been changed into some poor +somebody's dinner, I couldn't have had them to give to you. Do you see, +Pink?" + +"But, O Norton!" Matilda began, and stopped. "These strawberries are +very nice." + +"But you would rather turn them into mutton-chops and give them away?" +said Norton. "I dare say you would! Wouldn't you?" + +"Norton," said Matilda, cautiously, "do you think anything I _could_ +have bought with that dollar would have given me so much pleasure as +that tea-kettle yesterday?" + +"It was a good investment," said Norton. "But it is right to eat +strawberries, Pink. Where are you going to stop?" + +"I'll take Mrs. Eldridge some strawberries," said Matilda, smiling, +"when they get plenty." + +"Well, agreed," said Norton. "Let us take her some other things too. +I've got money. Stop--let me put these plates in the house and fetch a +piece of paper;--then we'll see what we'll take her." + +Matilda sat while he was gone, looking at the golden mist on the +mountains and dreaming. + +"Now," said Norton, throwing himself on the turf beside her, with his +piece of paper, and thrusting his hand deep down in his pocket to get +at his pencil, "Now, let us see what we will do." + +"Norton," said Matilda, joyously, "this is better than croquet." + +Norton looked up with those bright eyes of his, but his reply was to +proceed to business. + +"Now for it, Pink. What shall we do for the old lady? What does she +want? Pooh! she wants everything; but what to begin with?" + +"Strawberries, you said." + +"Strawberries! Not at all. That's the last thing. I mean we'll fix her +up, Pink. Now what does she want to be comfortable. It is only one old +woman; but we shall feel better if she is comfortable. Or you will." + +"But what do you mean, Norton? how much can we do?" + +"Just as much as we've a mind to. I've got money, I tell you. Come; +begin. What goes down first?" + +"Why, Norton," said Matilda, in an ecstasy, "it is like a fairy story." + +"What?" + +"This, that we are doing. It is like a fairy story exactly." + +"How is it like fairy stories?" said Norton. "_I_ don't know." + +"Did you never read fairy stories?" + +"Never. What are they like?" + +"Why some of them are just like this," said Matilda. "People are rich, +and can do what they please; and they set out to get things together +for a feast, or to prepare a palace for some princess; and first one +nice thing is got, and then another, and then some thing else; until by +and by you feel as if you had been at the feast, or seen the palace, or +had done the shopping. I do." + +"This isn't for a princess," said Norton. + +"No, nor a palace," said Matilda; "but it seems just as good." + +"Go on, Pink; let us quit princesses and get to the real business. What +do you want to get, first thing?" + +"_First_ thing," said Matilda, "I think would be to get somebody to +clean the house. There are only two little rooms. It wouldn't be much. +Don't you think so, Norton?" + +"As we cannot build a palace, and have it new, I should say the old one +had better be cleaned." + +"Sabrina Rogers would do it, I dare say," Matilda went on; "and maybe +that would be something good for her." + +"Teach her to clean her own?" said Norton. + +"Why no, Norton; her own is clean. I meant, maybe she would be glad of +the pay." + +"There's another princess, eh, that wants a palace?" said Norton. "If +we could, we would new build Lilac Lane, wouldn't we? But then, I +should want to make over the people that live in it." + +"So should I, and that is the hardest. But perhaps, don't you think the +people _would_ be different, if they had things different?" + +"I'm certain I should be different, if I lived where they do," said +Norton. "But go on, Pink; let us try it on--what's her name. We have +only cleaned her house yet." + +"The first thing, then, is a bedstead, Norton." + +"A bedstead! What does she sleep on?" + +"On the floor; with rags and straw, and I think a miserable +make-believe of a bed. No sheets, no blankets, nor anything. It is +dreadful." + +"Rags and straw," said Norton. "Then a bedstead wants a bed on it, +Pink; and blankets or coverlets or something, and sheets, and all that." + +Matilda watched Norton's pencil as it noted the articles. + +"Then she wants some towels, and a basin of some sort to wash in." + +"H'm!" said Norton. "Herself, I hope?" + +"Yes, I hope so. But she has nothing to make herself clean with." + +"Then a stand, and basin, and towels; and a pitcher, Pink, I suppose, +to hold water." + +"Yes, a pitcher, or jug, or something. We want to get the cheapest +things we can. And soap." + +"Let's have plenty of that," said Norton, putting down soap. "Now +then--what next?" + +"A little wooden table, Norton; she has nothing but a chair to set her +tea on." + +"A table. And a carpet?" + +"Oh, no, Norton; that's not necessary. It is warm weather now. She does +not want that. But she _does_ want a pail for water. I have to take the +tea-kettle to the pump." + +Norton at this laughed, and rolled over on the grass in his amusement. +Having thus refreshed himself, he came back to business. + +"Has she got anything to go on her fire, except a tea-kettle?" + +"Not much. A saucepan would be a very useful thing, and not cost much. +I bought one the other day; so I know." + +"What's a saucepan?" said Norton. "A pan to make sauce in?" + +It was Matilda's turn to laugh. "Poor Mrs. Eldridge don't have many +puddings, I guess, to make sauce for," she said. + +"Well, Pink, now we come, don't we, to the eating line. We must stock +her up." + +"Put down a broom first, Norton." + +"A broom! here goes." + +"Yes, you can't think how much I have wanted a broom there. And a +tea-pot. Oh yes, and a little milk pitcher, and sugar bowl. Can't we?" + +"I should think we could," said Norton. "Tea-cups?" + +"I guess not. She's got two; and three plates. Now, Norton--the +eatables. What did you think of?" + +"I suppose there isn't anything in the house," said Norton. + +"Nothing at all, except what we took there." + +"Then she wants everything." + +"But you see, Norton, she can't do any thing herself; she couldn't use +some things. There would be no use----" + +"No use in what?" + +"Flour, for instance. She couldn't make bread." + +"I don't know anything about flour," said Norton. "But she can use +bread when she sees it, I will take my affidavit." + +"Oh yes, bread, Norton. We will take her some bread, and a little +butter; and sugar; and tea. She has got some, but it won't last long." + +"And I said she should have a mutton-chop." + +"I dare say she would like it." + +"I wonder if a bushel of potatoes wouldn't be the best thing of all." + +"Potatoes would be excellent," said Matilda, delightedly. "I suppose +she would be very glad of anything of that sort. Let's take her some +cheese, Norton." + +"Cheese. And strawberries. And cake, Pink." + +"I am afraid we should be taking too much at once. We had better leave +the cake to another time." + +"There's something we forgot," said Norton. "Mr. What's-his-name will +not split up box covers for your fire every day; we must send in a load +of firing. Wood, I guess." + +"Oh, how good!" said Matilda. "You see, Norton, she has had no wood to +make a fire even to boil her kettle." + +"And no kettle to boil," added Norton. + +"So that she went without even tea. I don't know how she lived. Did you +see how she enjoyed the tea yesterday?" + +"Pink," said Norton, "do you expect to go there to make her fire every +day?" + +"No, Norton, I cannot every day; I cannot always get away from home. +But I was thinking--I know some other girls that I guess would help; +and if there were several of us, you know, it would be very easy." + +"Well," said Norton, "we have fixed up this palace and princess now. +What do you think of getting the princess a new dress or two?" + +"Oh, it would be very nice, Norton. She wants it." + +"Mamma will do that. Could _you_ get it, Pink? would you know how? +supposing your purse was long enough." + +"Oh yes, Norton. Of course I could!" + +"Then you shall do it. Who will see to all the rest?" + +"To buy the things, do you mean?" + +"To buy them, and to choose them, and to get them to their place, and +all that?" + +"Why, you and I, Norton. Shan't we?" + +"I think that is a good arrangement. The next question is, when? When +shall we send the things there?" + +"We must get the rooms cleaned. I will see about that. Then, Norton, +the sooner the better; don't you think so?" + +"How is it in the fairy stories?" + +"Oh, it's all done with a breath there; that is one of the delightful +things about it. You speak, and the genie comes; and you tell him what +you want, and he goes and fetches it; there is no waiting. And yet, I +don't know," Matilda added; "I don't wish this could be done in a +breath." + +"What?" said a voice close behind her. The two looked up, laughing, to +see Mrs. Laval. She was laughing too. + +"What is it, that is not to be done in a breath?" + +"Furnishing a palace, mamma--(getting it cleaned first,) and setting up +a princess." + +Mrs. Laval wanted to hear about it, and gradually she slipped down on +the grass beside Matilda, and drew an arm round her, while she listened +to Norton's story. Norton made quite a story of it, and told his mother +what Matilda had been doing the day before in Lilac Lane, and what +schemes they had presently on hand. Mrs. Laval listened curiously. + +"Dear, is it quite safe for you to go to such a place?" she asked +Matilda then. + +"Oh yes, ma'am." + +"But it cannot be pleasant." + +"Oh yes, ma'am!" Matilda answered, more earnestly. + +"How can it be?" + +"I thought it would not be pleasant, at first," said Matilda; "but I +found it was." + +"What made it pleasant, dear?" + +"If you saw the poor old woman, Mrs. Laval, and how much she wanted +comfort, I think you would understand it." + +"Would you come and see _me_, if I wanted comfort?" the lady inquired. +Matilda smiled at the possibility. Then something in Mrs. Laval's face +reminded her that even with such a beautiful house and so rich +abundance of things that money can buy, there might be a sad want of +something that money cannot buy; and she grew grave again. + +"Would you?" Mrs. Laval repeated. + +And Matilda said "Yes." And Mrs. Laval again put her face down to +Matilda's face and pressed her lips upon hers, again and again, as if +she drew some sweetness from them. Not so passionately as the time +before; yet with quiet earnestness. Then with one hand she stroked the +hair from Matilda's forehead, and drew it forward, and passed her +fingers through it, caressing it in a tender, thoughtful way. Norton +knelt on the grass beside them and looked on, watching and satisfied. +Matilda was happy and passive. + +"Have you got money enough, love, for all you want to do?" Mrs. Laval +asked at length. + +"_I_ haven't much," said Matilda; "but Norton is going to help." + +"Have you got enough, Norton?" + +"I guess so, mamma." + +Mrs. Laval put her hand in her pocket and drew out a little morocco +pocket-book. She put it in Matilda's hand. + +"Norton shall not do it all," she said. "I don't know exactly how much +is in this; you can use what you choose on this fairy palace you and +Norton are building." + +"Oh, ma'am!" Matilda began, flushing and delighted. Mrs. Laval stopped +her mouth with a kiss. + +"But, ma'am, won't you please take out what you wish I should spend for +Mrs. Eldridge." + +"Spend just what you like." + +"I might take too much," said Matilda. + +"It is all your's. Do just what you like with it. Spend what you like +in Lilac Lane, and the rest for something else." + +"Oh, ma'am!"--Matilda began again in utter bewildered delight. + +"No, darling, don't say anything about it," Mrs. Laval answered, +finding Matilda's pocket and slipping the pocket-book in. "You shall +talk to me about it another time. I wish you could give me your secret." + +"What secret, ma'am?" said Matilda, who for the very delight that +flushed her could hardly speak. + +"How to get so much satisfaction out of a little money." + +Matilda wished she could give Mrs. Laval anything that would do her a +pleasure, and she began to think, _could_ she let her into this secret? +It seemed a simple secret enough to Matilda; but she had a certain +consciousness that for the great lady it might be more difficult to +understand than it was for her. Was it possible that elegant +pocket-book was in _her_ pocket? + +But now came the summons to tea, and they got up off the grass and went +in. So beautiful a table Matilda had never seen, and more thorough +petting no little girl ever had. No one else was there but those three, +so she was quite at home. Such a pleasant home it was, too. The windows +all open, of the large, airy, pretty dining-room; the blue mountains +seen through the windows at one side; from the others, the green of the +trees and the gay colours of flowers; the evening air drew gently +through the room, and flowers and fruit and all sorts of delicacies and +all sorts of elegances on the table made Matilda feel she was in +fairyland. + +"When are you coming again?" said Mrs. Laval, taking her in her arms +when she was about going. + +"Whenever you will let me, ma'am." + +"Could you learn to love me a little bit, some day?" + +Matilda did not know how to answer. She looked into the handsome dark +eyes that were watching her, and with the thought of the secret +sympathy between the lady and herself, her own watered. + +"I see you will," said Mrs. Laval, kissing her. "Now kiss me." + +She sat quite still while Matilda did so; then returned it warmly, and +bade Norton take care of her home. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Matilda found her aunt, cousin, and sister gathered in the parlour. + +"Well!" said Maria. "I suppose you have had a time." + +"A good time?" Mrs. Candy asked. Matilda replied "Yes." + +"You stayed late," observed Clarissa. This did not seem to need an +answer. + +"What have you been doing?" Maria asked. + +"Playing." + +"You sigh over it, as if there were some melancholy associations +connected with the fact," said Clarissa. + +So there were, taken with the contrast at home. Matilda could not +explain that. + +"Any company there?" inquired Mrs. Candy. + +"No, ma'am." + +"You are wonderfully taciturn," said Clarissa. "Do tell us what you +have been about, and whether you have enjoyed yourself." + +"I enjoyed myself," said Matilda, repressing another sigh. + +"Did you bring any message for me?" asked her aunt. + +"No, Aunt Candy." + +"Did you deliver mine to Mrs. Laval?" + +"What, ma'am?" + +"My message. Did you deliver it?" + +"No, aunt Candy." + +"Did you forget it, Matilda?" + +"I did not forget it." + +Both mother and daughter lifted up their heads at this. + +"Why did you not give the message, then?" + +Matilda was in sore difficulty. There was nothing she could think of to +say. So she said nothing. + +"Speak, child!" said her aunt. "Why did you not give my message as I +charged you?" + +"I did not like to do it, Aunt Candy." + +"You did not like to do it! Please to say why you did not like to do +it." + +It was so impossible to answer, that Matilda took refuge in silence +again. + +"It would have been civil in Mrs. Laval to have sent her message, +whether or no," said Clarissa. + +"Go up-stairs, Matilda," said her aunt; "and don't come down again +to-night. No, Maria," for Maria rose, muttering that she would go too, +"no, you do _not_ go now. Sit down, till the usual time. Go to bed, +Matilda. I will talk to you to-morrow." + +It was no punishment, the being sent off; though her aunt's words and +manner were. In all her little life, till now, Matilda had never known +any but gentle and tender treatment. She had not been a child to +require other; and though a more decided government might have been +good, perhaps, the soft and easy affection in the midst of which she +had grown up was far better for her than harshness, which indeed she +never deserved. As she went up the stairs to-night, she felt like a +person suddenly removed, in the space of an hour, from the atmosphere +of some balmy, tropical clime, to the sharp rigours of the north pole. +She shivered, mentally. + +But the effect of the tropics returned when she had closed the door of +her room. The treasures of comfort and pleasure stored up that +afternoon were not lost; and being a secret treasure, they were not +within anybody's power. Matilda kneeled down and gave thanks for it +all; then took out her pocket-book and admired it; she would not count +the money this evening, the outside was quite enough. She stowed it +away in a safe place, and slowly undressed; her heart so full of +pleasant things enjoyed and other pleasant things hoped for, that she +soon utterly forgot Mrs. Candy, message and all. Sweet visions of what +was to be done in Lilac Lane rose before her eyes; what might _not_ be +done, between Norton and her, now? and with these came in other +visions--of those kisses of Mrs. Laval, which had been such mother's +kisses. Matilda stood still to remember and feel them over again. +Nobody had ever kissed her so, but her mother. And so, in a little warm +heart-glow of her own which enveloped everything, like the golden haze +on the mountains that evening, Matilda undressed leisurely, and read +her Bible, and prayed, and went to sleep. And her waking mood was like +the morning light upon the mountains, so clear and quiet. + +Maria, however, was in complete contrast. This was not very unusual. +She was crusty, and ironical, and disposed to find fault. + +"I wonder how long this is going to last?" she said, in the interval +between complaining and fault-finding. + +"What?" Matilda asked. + +"This state of things. Not going to school, nor learning anything; +cooking and scrubbing for Aunt Candy; and you petted and taken +up-stairs to be taught, and asked out to tea, and made much of. Nobody +remembers that I am alive." + +"Dear Maria, I have been asked out to tea just once." + +"You'll be asked again." + +"And I am sure people come to see you. Frances Barth was here +yesterday; and Sarah Haight and Esther Trembleton two days ago; and +Esther asked you to tea too." + +"I couldn't go." + +"But people remember you are alive. O Maria, they remember you too. Mr. +Richmond don't forget you; and Miss Benton asked you to come to tea +with her." + +"It is all very well talking," said Maria. "I know what I know; and I +am getting tired of it. You are the only one that has any really good +times." + +It soon appeared that one of Matilda's good times was not to be to-day. +Mrs. Candy and Clarissa looked on her coldly, spoke to her dryly, and +made her feel that she was not in favour. Matilda could bear this +down-stairs pretty well; but when she found her self in Mrs. Candy's +room for her morning hours of reading and darning, it became heavy. +Reading was not the first thing to-day. Mrs. Candy called Matilda to +stand before her, while she proceeded to give her a species of +correction in words. + +"You were baptized a few weeks ago, Matilda." + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"And by so being, you became a member of the Church;--of your church." + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"What do you think are the duties of a member of the Church?" + +A comprehensive question, Matilda thought. She hesitated. + +"I ask you, what do you think are the duties of a member of the Church? +in any branch of it." + +"I suppose they are the same as anybody else's duties," Matilda +answered. + +"The same as anybody else's duties." + +"Yes, Aunt Candy." + +"You think it makes no change in one's duties?" + +"What change does it make, aunt Candy?" + +Matilda spoke in all innocence; but Mrs. Candy flushed and frowned. It +did not sweeten her mood that she could not readily find an answer for +the child. + +"You allow, at least, that it is one of your duties to obey the fifth +commandment?" + +"Yes, Aunt Candy. I try to do it." + +"Did you try last night?" + +Matilda was silent. + +"You made me guilty of rudeness by not delivering the message I had +charged you with; and you confessed it was not through forgetfulness. +Will you tell me now why it was?" + +It had been through a certain nice sense on Matilda's part that the +message was uncalled for, and even a little officious. She would have +been mortified to be obliged to repeat it to Mrs. Laval. There had +never been the least intercourse between the ladies, and Mrs. Laval had +sought none. If Mrs. Candy sought it, Matilda was unwilling it should +be through her means. But she could not explain this to her aunt. + +"You did not choose it," that lady said again, with kindling anger. + +"I did not mean to offend you, Aunt Candy." + +"No, because you thought I would never hear of it. I have a great mind, +as ever I had to eat, to whip you, Matilda. You are not at all too old +for it, and I believe it would do you a great deal of good. You haven't +had quite enough of that sort of thing." + + +Whether Matilda had or had not had enough of that sort of thing, it +seemed to her that it was very far from Mrs. Candy's place to propose +or even hint at it. The indignity of the proposal flushed the child +with a sense of injury almost too strong to be borne. Mrs. Candy, in +all her years of life, had never known the sort of keen pain that her +words gave now to a sensitive nature, up to that time held in the most +dainty and tender consideration. Matilda did not speak nor stir; but +she grew pale. + +"The next time you shall have it," Mrs. Candy went on. "I should have +no hesitation at all, Matilda, about whipping you; and my hand is not a +light one. I advise you, as your friend, not to come under it. Your +present punishment shall be, that I shall refuse you permission to go +any more to Mrs. Laval's." + +The child was motionless and gave no sign, further than the paleness of +her cheeks; which indeed caught Clarissa's observant eye, and made her +uneasy. But she did not tremble nor weep. Probably the rush of feeling +made such a storm in her little breast that she could not accurately +measure the value of this new announcement, or know fairly what it +meant. Perhaps, too, it was like some other things to her limited +experience, too bad to be believed; and Matilda did not really receive +it as a fact, that her visits to Mrs. Laval had ceased. She realised +enough, however, poor child, to make it extremely difficult to bear up +and maintain her dignity; but she did that. Nothing but the paleness +told. Matilda was quite erect and steady before her aunt; and when she +was at last bidden to go to her seat and begin her reading, her +graceful little head took a set upon her shoulders which was very +incensing to Mrs. Candy. + +"I advise you to take care!" she said, threateningly. + +But Matilda could not imagine what new cause of offence she had given. +It was very hard to read aloud. She made two or three efforts to get +voice, and then went stiffly on. + +"You are not reading well," her aunt broke in. "You are not thinking of +what you are reading." + +Matilda was silent. + +"Why do you not speak? I say you do not read well. Why don't you attend +to your book?" + +"I never understand this book," said Matilda. + +"Of course not, if you do not attend. Go on!" + +"She can't read, mamma," whispered Clarissa. + +"She shall read," Mrs. Candy returned, in an answering whisper. + +And recognising that necessity, Matilda put a force on herself and read +on, at the imminent peril of choking every now and then, as one thought +and another came up to grasp her. She put it by or put it down, and +went on; obliged herself to go on; wouldn't think, till the weary pages +were come to an end at last, and the hoarse voice had leave to be +still, and she took up her darning. Thoughts would have overcome her +self-control then, in all nature; but that, happily for Matilda's +dignity as she wished to maintain it, Mrs. Candy was pleased to +interrupt the darning of stockings to give Matilda a lesson in patching +linen--an entirely new thing to the child, requiring her best attention +and care; for Mrs. Candy insisted upon the patch being straight to a +thread, and even as a double web would have been. Matilda had to baste +and take out again, baste and take out again; she had enough to do +without going back upon her own grievances; it was extremely difficult +to make a large patch of linen lie straight on all sides and not pucker +itself or the cloth somewhere. Matilda pulled out her basting threads +the third time, with a sigh. + +"You will do it, when you come to taking pains enough," said Mrs. Candy. + +Now Matilda knew that she was taking the utmost pains possible. She +said nothing, but her hands grew more unsteady. + +"Mamma, may I help her?" said Clarissa. + +"No. She can do it if she tries," said Mrs. Candy. + +Matilda queried within herself how it would do to throw up the work, +and declare open rebellion; how would the fight go? She was conscious +that to provoke a fight would be wrong; but passion just now had got +the upper hand of wisdom in the child. She concluded, however, that it +would not do; Mrs. Candy could hold out better than she could; but the +last atom of goodwill was gone out of her obedience. + +"Matilda," said Mrs. Candy. + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"You have been an hour and a half trying to fix that patch." + +"Isn't it long enough for one day?" said Matilda, wearily, sitting back +on her heels. + +She had got down on the floor the better to manage the work; a large +garment with a large patch to be laid. + +"Too long, by an hour; but not long enough, inasmuch as it is not yet +done." + +"I am too tired to do it." + +"We will see that." + +Matilda sat back on her heels, looking at the hopeless piece of linen. +She was flushed, and tired, and angry; but she only sat there looking +at the linen. + +"It has got to be done," said Mrs. Candy. + +"I must get rested first," said Matilda. + +"You are not to say 'must' to me," said her aunt. "My dear, I shall +make you do whatever I order. You shall do exactly what I tell you in +everything. Your times of having your own way are ended. You will do my +way now. And you will put on that patch neatly before you eat." + +"Maria will want me." + +"Maria will do very well without." + +Matilda looked at her aunt in equal surprise and dismay. Mrs. Candy had +not seemed like this before. Nothing had prepared her for it. But Mrs. +Candy was a cold-natured woman, not the less fiery and proud when +roused. She could be pleasant enough on the surface, and in general +intercourse with people; she could have petted Matilda and made much of +her, and was, indeed, quite inclined that way. If only Mrs. Laval had +not taken her up, and if Matilda had not been so independent. The two +things together touched her on the wrong side. She was nettled that the +wish of Mrs. Laval was to see only Matilda, of the whole family; and +upon the back of that, she was displeased beyond endurance that Matilda +should withstand her authority and differ from her opinion. There was +no fine and delicate nature in her to read that of the child; only a +coarse pride that was bent upon having itself regarded. She thought +herself disregarded. She was determined to put that down with a high +hand. + +Seeing or feeling dimly somewhat of all this, Matilda sat on the floor +in a kind of despair, looking at her patch. + +"You had better not sit so, but go about it," said Mrs. Candy. + +"Yes. I am tired," said Matilda. + +"You will not go down to dinner," said Mrs. Candy. + +Could she stand it? Matilda thought. Could she bear it, and not cry? +She was getting so tired and down-hearted. It was quite plain there +would be no going out this afternoon to buy things for Lilac Lane. That +delightful shopping must be postponed; that hope was put further in the +distance. She sat moodily still. She ceased to care when the patching +got done. + +"Losing time," said Mrs. Candy at length, getting up and putting by her +own basket. "The bell will ring in a few minutes, Matilda; and I shall +leave you here to do your work at your leisure." + +The child looked at her and looked down again, with what slight air of +her little head it is impossible to describe, though it undoubtedly and +unmistakably signified her disapproval. It was Matilda's habitual +gesture, but resented by Mrs. Candy. She stepped up to her and gave the +side of her head a smart stroke with the palm of her hand. + +"You are not to answer me by gestures, you know I told you," she +exclaimed. And she and Clarissa quitting the room, the door was locked +on the outside. + +Matilda's condition at first was one of simple bewilderment. The +indignity, the injury, the wrong, were so unwonted and so +unintelligible, that the child felt as if she were in a dream. What did +it mean? and was it real? The locked door was a hard fact, that +constantly asserted itself; perhaps so did Matilda's want of dinner; +the linen patches on the floor were another tangible fact. And as +Matilda came to realise that she was alone and could indulge herself, +at last a flood of bitter tears came to wash, they could not wash away, +her hurt feeling and her despair. Every bond was broken, to Matilda's +thinking, between her and her aunt; all friendship was gone that had +been from one to the other; and she was in the power of one who would +use it. That was the hardest to realise; for if Matilda had been in her +mother's power once, it had also been power never exercised. The child +had been always practically her own mistress. Was that ended? Was Mrs. +Candy her mistress now? her freedom gone? and was there no escape? It +made Matilda almost wild to think these thoughts, wild and frightened +together; and with all that, very angry. Not passionately, which was +not her nature, but with a deep sense of displeasure and dislike. The +patch and the linen to be patched lay untouched on the floor, it is +need less to say, when Mrs. Candy came up from dinner. + +Mrs. Candy came up alone. She surveyed the state of things in silence. +Matilda had been crying, she saw. She left her time to recover from +that and take up her work. But Matilda sat despairing and careless, +looking at it and not thinking of it. + +"You do not mean to do that, do you?" she said at last. + +"Yes, ma'am--sometime," Matilda answered. + +"Not now?" + +"When I get a little rested." + +"You want something," said Mrs. Candy, looking at her; "and I know what +it is. You want bringing down. You never were brought down in your +life, I believe, or you would not dare me so now!" + +"I did not mean to dare you, Aunt Candy," said Matilda, lifting her +head. + +"You will not do it after to-day," said Mrs. Candy. "I am not going to +give you what I threatened. I leave that for another time. I don't +believe we shall ever come to that. But you want bringing down, all the +same; and I know what will do it, too. Cold water will do it." + +"What do you mean, Aunt Candy?" + +"I mean cold water. I have heard you say you don't like it; but it +would be very good for you, in two ways. I am going to bathe you with +it from your head to your feet. Here is my bath-tub, and I'll have it +ready in a minute. Take off your clothes, Matilda." + +It was with nothing less than horror that Matilda now earnestly +besought her aunt to think better of this determination. She did +dislike cold water, and after a child's luxurious fashion had always +been allowed to use warm water. But worse than cold water was the idea +of her aunt, or anybody, presuming to apply it in the capacity of +bather. Matilda refused and pleaded, alternately; pleaded very humbly +at last; but in vain. + +"I thought I knew something that would bring you down," Mrs. Candy said +composedly and pleased; and in the same manner proceeded to strip off +Matilda's clothes, put her in the bath-tub, and make thorough +application of the hated element as she had said, from head to foot; +scrubbing and dousing and sponging; till if Matilda had been in the sea +she would not better have known how cold water felt all over her. It +was done in five minutes, too; and then, after being well rubbed down, +Matilda was directed to put on her clothes again and finish her +patching. + +"I fancy you will feel refreshed for it now," said her aunt. "This will +be a good thing for you. I used to give it to Clarissa always when she +was a little thing; and now I will do the same by you, my love. Every +day, you shall come to me in the morning when you first get up." + +No announcement could have been more dismayful; but this time Matilda +said nothing. She bent herself to her patching, the one uppermost +desire being to finish it and get out of the room. The cold water _had_ +refreshed and strengthened her, much as she disliked and hated it; at +the same time the sense of hunger, from the same cause, grew keener +than ever. Matilda tried her very best to lay the patch straight, and +get it basted so. And so keen the endeavour was, so earnest the +attention, that though laying a linen patch by the thread _is_ a nice +piece of business, she succeeded at last. Mrs. Candy was content with +the work, satisfied with its being only basted for that time, and let +her go. + +Matilda slowly made her way down to the lower regions, where Maria was +still at work, and asked for something to eat. Maria looked very black, +and demanded explanations of what was going on up-stairs. Matilda would +say nothing, until she had found something to satisfy her hunger, and +had partially devoured a slice of bread and meat. In the midst of that +she broke off, and wrapping her arms round her sister in a clinging +way, exclaimed suddenly-- + +"O Maria, keep me, keep me!" + +"Keep you! from what? What do you mean, Tilly?" said the astonished +Maria. + +"From Aunt Candy. _Can't_ you keep me?" + +"What has she done?" Maria asked, growing very wrathful. + +"Can't you keep me from her, Maria?" + +"And I say, what has she done to you, Tilly? Do hold up and answer me. +How can I tell anything when you act like that? What has she done?" + +"She says she'll give me a cold bath every morning," Matilda said, +seeming to shrink and shiver as she said it. + +"A cold bath!" exclaimed Maria. + +"Yes. Oh, can't you keep me from it?" + +"What has put the notion in her head?" + +"She used to do it to Clarissa, she says; but I think she wants to do +it to me because I don't like it. Oh, I don't like it, Maria!" + +"She's too mean for anything," said Maria. "I never saw anything like +her. But maybe it won't be so bad as you think, Tilly. She and Clarissa +both take a cold bath every morning, you know; and they like it." + +"I don't like it!" said Matilda, with the extremest accent of +repugnance. + +"Maybe it won't seem so bad when you've tried." + +"I have tried," said Matilda, bursting into tears; "she gave me one +to-day, and I don't like it; and I can't _bear_ to have her bathe me!" + +Matilda's tears came now in a shower, with sobs of the most heartfelt +trouble. Maria looked black as a thunder-cloud. + +"O Maria, can't you keep me from her?" + +"Not without killing her," said Maria. "I feel as if I would almost +like to do that sometimes." + +"O Maria, you mustn't speak so!" said Matilda, shocked even in the +midst of her grief. + +"Well, and I don't mean it," said Maria; "but what can I do, Tilly? If +she takes a notion in her head, she will follow it, you know; and it +would take more than ever I saw to turn her. And you see, she thinks +cold water is the best thing in the world." + +"Yes, but I _can't_ bear to have her bathe me!" Matilda repeated. "And +I don't like cold water. She rubs, and she scrubs, and she throws the +water over me, and the soap-suds, and she don't care at all whether I +like it or not. I wish I could get away! I wish I could get away, +Maria! Oh, I wish I could get away!" + +"So do I wish I could," said Maria, gloomily eyeing her little sister's +sobs. "We've got to stand it, Tilly, for the present. I haven't +anywhere to go to, and you haven't. Come, don't cry. Eat your bread and +meat. I dare say you will get used to cold water." + +"I shall not get used to _her_," said Matilda. + +However, a part of Maria's prediction did come true. Cold water is less +terrible, the more acquaintance one has with it; and probably Mrs. +Candy's assertion was also true, that it was capital for Matilda. And +Matilda would not have much minded it at last, if only the +administration could have been left to herself. But Mrs. Candy kept +that in her own hands, knowing, probably, that it was one effectual +means of keeping Matilda herself in her hands. Every morning, when Mrs. +Candy's bell rang, Matilda was obliged to run down-stairs and submit +herself to her aunt's manipulations, which were pretty much as she had +described them; and under those energetic unscrupulous hands, which +dealt with her as they listed, and regarded her wishes in no sort nor +respect, Matilda was quite helpless; and she was subdued. Mrs. Candy +had attained that end; she no longer thought of resisting her aunt in +any way. It was the first time in Matilda's life that she had been +obliged to obey another. Between her mother and herself the question +had hardly arisen, except upon isolated occasions. She dared not let +the question ever arise now with Mrs. Candy. She read, and darned, and +patched, and grew skilful in those latter arts; she never objected now. +She came to her bath, and never uttered now the vain pleadings which at +first even her dignity gave way to make. Mrs. Candy had quite put down +the question of dignity. Matilda did not venture to disobey her any +more in anything. She went no more to walk without asking leave; she +visited no more at Mrs. Laval's; Mrs. Candy even took Matilda in her +triumph to her own church in the morning. Matilda suffered, but +submitted without a word. + +How much the child suffered, nobody knew or guessed. She kept it to +herself. Mrs. Candy did not even suspect that there was much suffering +in the case, beyond a little enforced submission, and a little +disappointment now and then about going to see somebody. Mrs. Laval's +house was forbidden, that was all; and for a few days Matilda did not +get time, or leave, to go out to walk. + +She was kept very busy. And she was pleasant about her work with Maria, +and gentle and well-behaved when at her work with her aunt. Not gay, +certainly, as she had begun to be sometimes lately, before this time; +but Maria was so far from gaiety herself that she did not miss it in +her sister; and Mrs. Candy saw no change but the change she had wished +for. Nevertheless they did not see all. There were hours, when Matilda +could shut herself up in her room and be alone, and Maria was asleep in +her bed at night; when the little head bent over her Bible, and tears +fell like rain, and struggles that nobody dreamed of went on in the +child's heart. The thing she lived on, was the hope of getting out and +doing that beloved shopping; meeting Norton, somehow, somewhere, as one +does impossible things in a dream, and arranging with him to go to +Lilac Lane together. The little pocket-book lay all safe and ready +waiting for the time; and when Matilda could let herself think pleasant +thoughts, she went into rapturous fancies of the wonderful changes to +be wrought in Mrs. Eldridge's house. + +She saw nothing meanwhile of Lemuel Dow. The Sunday following her +afternoon at Mrs. Laval's had been a little rainy in the latter part of +it. Perhaps the little Dow boy, who minded rain no more than a duck on +other days, might be afraid of a wetting on Sunday. Other people often +are. But Matilda meant to look for him next time, and have her sugared +almonds in readiness. + +One of the days of that week, it happened that Mrs. Candy took Matilda +out with her for a walk. It was not at all agreeable to Matilda; but +she was learning to submit to what was not agreeable, and she made no +objection. On the way they stopped at Mr. Sample's store; Mrs. Candy +wanted to get some smoked salmon. Mr. Sample served her himself. + +"How did you like the tea I sent you?" he asked, while he was weighing +the fish. + +"Tea?" said Mrs. Candy. "You sent me no tea." + +"Why, yes I did, last week; it was Monday or Tuesday, I think. You +wanted to try another kind, I understood." + +"I wanted nothing of the sort. I have plenty of tea on hand, and am +perfectly suited with it. You have made some mistake." + +"I am glad you are suited," Mr. Sample rejoined; "but I have made no +mistake. This little girl came for it, and I weighed it out myself and +gave it to her. And a loaf of bread at the same time." + +"It was not for you, Aunt Candy; it was for myself," said Matilda. "I +paid for it, Mr. Sample; it was not charged." + +"You did not pay me, Miss Matilda." + +"No, Mr. Sample; I paid Patrick." + +"What did you buy tea and bread for?" her aunt inquired. + +"I wanted it," Matilda answered. + +"What for?" + +"I wanted it to give away," Matilda said, in a low voice, being obliged +to speak. + +Mrs. Candy waited till they were out of the shop, and then desired to +know particulars. For whom Matilda wanted it; where she took it; when +she went; who went with her. + +"Is it a clean place?" was her inquiry at last. Matilda was obliged to +confess it was not. + +"Don't go there again without my knowledge, Matilda. Do you hear?" + +"I hear. But Aunt Candy," said Matilda, in great dismay, "it doesn't +hurt me." + +"No; I mean it shall not. Have you always gone wandering just where you +liked?" + +"Yes, always. Shadywalk is a perfectly safe place." + +"For common children, perhaps. Not for you. Do not go near Lilac Lane +again. It is a mercy you have escaped safe as it is." + +Escaped from what, Matilda wondered. Even a little soil to her clothes +might be washed off, and she did not think she had got so much harm as +that. If she could only meet Norton now, before reaching home; there +would never be another chance. Matilda longed to see him, with an +intensity which seemed almost as if it must bring him before her; but +it did not. In vain she watched every corner and every group of boys or +cluster of people they passed; Norton's trim figure was not to be seen; +and the house door shut upon Matilda in her despair. She went up to her +room, and kneeling down, laid her head on the table. + +"It's almost tea-time," said Maria. "What is the matter now?" + +But Matilda was not crying; she was in despair. + +"Come!" said Maria. "Come, what ails you? Tired?--It is time to get +tea, Matilda, and I want your help. What _is_ the matter now?" + +Matilda lifted a perfectly forlorn face to her sister. + +"I can't go anywhere!" she said. "I am in prison. I can't go to Lilac +Lane any more. I cannot do anything any more. And they want me so!" + +Down went Matilda's head. Maria stood, perhaps a little conscience +struck. + +"_Who_ wants you so much?" + +"The poor people there. Mrs. Eldridge and Mrs. Rogers. They want me so +much." + +"What for, Tilly?" said Maria, a little more gently than her wont. + +"Oh, for a great many things," said Matilda, brushing away a tear or +two; "and now I can go no more--I cannot do anything--Oh dear!" + +The little girl broke down. + +"She's the most hateful, spiteful, masterful woman, that ever was!" +Maria exclaimed; "too mean to live, and too cunning to breathe. She's +an old witch!" + +"Oh don't, Maria!" + +"I will," said Maria. "I will talk. It is the only comfort I have. What +is she up to now?" + +"Just that," said Matilda. "She found I had been to Lilac Lane, and she +said I must not go again without her knowing; and she will never let me +go. I needn't ask her. She doesn't like me to go there. And I wanted to +do so much! If she could only have waited--only have waited----" + +"What made you let her know you had been there?" + +"She found out. I couldn't help it. Now she will not let me go ever +again. Never, never!" + +"What did you want to do in Lilac Lane, Tilly?" + +"Oh, things. I wanted to do a great deal. Things.--They'll never be +done!" cried Matilda, in bitter distress. "I cannot do them now. I +cannot do anything." + +"She is as mean as she can live!" said Maria again. "But Tilly, I don't +believe Lilac Lane is a good place for you, neither. What did you want +to do there? what _could_ you do?" + +"Things," said Matilda, indefinitely. + +"You are not old enough to go poking about Lilac Lane by yourself." + +"I can't go any way," said Matilda. + +She cried a long while to wash down this disappointment, and the +effects of it did not go off in the tears. The child became very silent +and sober. Her duties she did, as she had done them, about the house +and in Mrs. Candy's room; but the bright face and the glad ways were +gone. In the secret of her private hours Matilda had struggles to go +through that left her with the marks of care upon her all the rest of +the time. + +The next Sunday she was made to go to church with her aunt. She went to +her own Sunday-school in the afternoon; but she was not allowed to get +off early enough for the reading and talk with Mary and Ailie. Lem Dow, +however, was on hand; that was one single drop of comfort. He looked +for his sugared almonds and they were on hand too; and besides that, +Matilda was able to see that he was quite pleased with the place and +the singing and the doings in his class, and making friends with the +boys. + +"Will you come next Sunday?" Matilda asked him, as they were going out. +He nodded. + +"Won't Jemima come too, if you ask her?" + +"I won't ask her." + +"No? why not?" + +"I don't want her to come." + +"You don't want her to come? Why it is a pleasant place, isn't it?" + +"It's a heap more jolly if she ain't here," said Lem, knowingly. + +It was a difficult argument to answer, with one whose general +benevolence was not very full grown yet. Matilda went home thinking how +many people wanted something done for them, and how she could touch +nobody. She was not allowed to go to church in the evening. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +The days seemed to move slowly. They were such troublesome days to +Matilda. From the morning bath, which was simply her detestation, all +through the long hours of reading, and patching, and darning in Mrs. +Candy's room, the time dragged; and no sooner was dinner over, than she +began to dread the next morning again. It was not so much for the cold +water as for the relentless hand that applied it. Matilda greatly +resented having it applied to her at all by any hand but her own; it +was an aggravation that her aunt minded that, and her, no more than if +she had been a baby. It was a daily trial, and daily trouble; for +Matilda was obliged to conquer herself, and be silent, and submit where +her whole soul rose and rebelled. She must not speak her anger, and +pleadings were entirely disregarded. So she ran down in the morning +when her aunt's bell rang, and was passive under all that Mrs. Candy +pleased to inflict; and commanded herself when she wanted to cry for +vexation, and was still when words of entreaty or defiance rose to her +lips. The sharp lesson of self-control Matilda was learning now. She +had to practise it again when she took her hours of needlework. Mrs. +Candy was teaching her now to knit, and now to mend lace, and then to +make buttonholes; and she required perfection; and Matilda was forced +to be very patient, and careful to the extreme of carefulness, and +docile when her work was pulled out, and persevering when she was quite +tired and longed to go down and help Maria in the kitchen. She was +learning useful arts, no doubt, but Matilda did not care for them; all +the while the most valuable thing she was learning was the lesson of +power over herself. Well if that were all. But there were some things +also down in the bottom of Matilda's heart which it was not good to +learn; and she knew it; but she did not know very well how to help it. + +Several weeks had gone by in this manner, and now June was about over. +Matilda had not gone to Lilac Lane again, nor seen Norton, nor made any +of her purchases for Mrs. Eldridge. She had almost given all that up. +She wondered that she saw nothing of Norton; but if he had ever come to +the house she had not heard of it. Matilda was not allowed to go out in +the evening now any more. No more Band meetings, or prayer meetings, or +church service in the evening for her. And in the morning of Sunday +Mrs. Candy was very apt to carry her off to her own church, which +Matilda disliked beyond all expression. But she went as quietly as if +she had liked it. + +Things were in this state, when one evening Maria came up to bed and +burst out as soon as she had got into the room,-- + +"Think of it! They are going to New York to-morrow." + +Matilda was bewildered, and asked who was going to New York. + +"_They_. Aunt Erminia and Clarissa. To be gone all day! Hurrah! We'll +have just what we like for dinner, and I'll let the kitchen fire go +out." + +"Are they going down to New York to-morrow?" said Matilda, standing and +looking at her sister. + +"By the early train. Don't you hear me tell you?" + +"I thought it was too good news to be true," said Matilda, drawing a +long breath. + +"It is, almost; but they are going. They are going to do shopping. +That's what it's for. And I say, Matilda, won't we have a great dinner +to get!" + +"They will want dinner after they get home." + +"No, they won't. They will take dinner somehow down there. Why they +will not be home, Tilly, till nine o'clock. They can't. The train don't +get up till a quarter-past eight, that train they are going to take; +and they will have to be an hour pretty near riding up from the +station. Hurrah! hurrah!" + +"Hush! don't make so much noise. They will hear you." + +"No, they won't. They have come up to bed. We are to have breakfast at +six o'clock. We shall have all the longer day." + +"Then I hope Aunt Candy will not have time to give me my bath." + +"No, she won't; she told me to tell you. You are to be ever so early, +and help me to get the breakfast. I shall not know what to do with the +day, though, I shall want to do so much. That is the worst of it." + +Matilda thought _she_ would be under no such difficulty, if only her +way were not so hedged in. The things she would have liked to do were +forbidden things. She might not go to Lilac Lane; she might not go to +Mrs. Laval's. She half expected that her aunt would say she must not go +out of the house at all. That misfortune, however, did not happen. The +early breakfast and bustle and arrangements for getting off occupied +Mrs. Candy so completely that she gave no commands whatever. The +omnibus fairly drove away with her, and left Maria and Matilda +unrestricted by any new restrictions. + +"It seems," said Matilda, gravely, as they stood by the gate, "it seems +as if I could see the sky again. I haven't seen it this great while." + +"Seen the sky!" said Maria; "what has ailed you? You have gone out +often enough." + +"It didn't seem as if I could see the sky," said Matilda, gazing up +into the living blue depth above her. "I can see it now." + +"You are funny," said Maria. "It don't seem to me as if I had seen +anything, for weeks. Dear me! to-day will be only too short." + +"It is half-past six now," said Matilda. "Between now and nine o'clock +to-night there are--let me see; half-past twelve will be six hours, and +half-past six will be twelve hours; six, seven, eight, nine,--nine will +be two hours and a half more; that will be fourteen and a half hours." + +"Fourteen," said Maria, "That half we shall be expecting them." + +"Well, we've got to go in and put the house in order, first thing," +said Matilda. "Let's make haste." + +"Then I'll let the kitchen fire go out," said Maria; "and we'll dine on +bread and butter, and cold potatoes. I like cold potatoes; don't you?" + +"No," said Matilda; "but I don't care what we have. I'll have bread and +butter and cold coffee, Maria; let us save the coffee. That will do." + +With these arrangements made, the day began. The two girls flew round +in a kind of glee to put the rooms up and get all the work done out of +the way. Work was a kind of play that morning. Then they agreed to take +their dinner early and dress themselves. Maria was going out after that +to see some friends and have some fun, she said. Matilda on her part +had a sort of faint hope that to-day, when it would be so opportune, it +might happen that Norton Laval would come to see what had become of +her. She was almost afraid to go out and lose the chance; though, to be +sure, it was only the ghost of a chance. Yet for that ghost of a chance +she did linger and wait in the house for an hour or two after Maria had +gone out. Then it began to press upon her that her aunt had ordered her +to get some strawberries from Mr. Sample's for tea; she was uneasy till +it was done, and at last took her hat and her basket and resolved to +run round into Butternut Street and get that off her mind. + +She was standing in Mr. Sample's shop, patiently waiting until her turn +should come to be served, when a hand was laid upon her shoulder. + +"How do you do, Tilly? You are grown a stranger." + +"O Mr. Richmond!" was Matilda's startled response. And it was more +startled than glad. + +"What is the matter? you look as if I had frightened you,--almost," +said the minister, smiling. Matilda did not say what was the matter. + +"Have you been quite well?" + +"Yes sir." + +"You were not in your place on Sunday." + +"No, sir." + +And Matilda's tone of voice gave an unconscious commentary upon her +very few words. + +"And you have not been to take tea with me in a great while." + +"No, Mr. Richmond." + +"Suppose you come to-day." + +"Oh, I cannot, sir." + +"Why not? I think you can." + +"I don't know whether my aunt would let me." + +"We will go and ask her." + +"Oh no, sir; she is not at home, Mr. Richmond. She has gone to New +York." + +"For how long?" + +"Only till nine o'clock to-night." + +"Then there can be no possible harm in your coming to take tea at the +parsonage." + +"I don't know whether she would let me," said Matilda, with an evident +intimation that the doubt was barrier enough. + +"You think she would not like it?" + +"I think--perhaps--she would not. Thank you, Mr. Richmond!" + +"But, Tilly, I want to talk to you. Have you nothing to say to me?" + +"Yes, sir. A great deal," said the child, with the look of slow +meditation. The minister considered her for a moment. + +"I shall take the decision of the question upon myself, Tilly, and I +will make it all right with your aunt. Come to the parsonage, or +rather, go to the parsonage; and I will join you there presently. I +have half an hour's business first to attend to. You must carry those +strawberries home? Very well; then go straight to the parsonage and +wait there for me." + +And with an encouraging nod and smile, Mr. Richmond walked off. Matilda +took her basket home; carried the key of the house door to Maria at +Mrs. Trembleton's; and set her face up Butternut Street. + +She was very glad; it seemed like getting out of prison; though she was +not altogether satisfied in her mind that Mr. Richmond might be able to +make it all right with Mrs. Candy. She was obliged to risk that, for +Mr. Richmond's invitation had had the force of an injunction. So she +took the good of the moment, and turned in at the gate of the parsonage +lane with something like a feeling of exultation and triumph. The +shadow of the elms was sweet on the road; the smooth quiet of the +grounds, railed off from worldly business and care, seemed proper only +to the houses of peace which stood upon them. The old creamy-brown +church on one side; on the other the pretty new Sunday-school house; in +front, at the end of the avenue of elms, the brown door of the +parsonage. Matilda felt as if her own life had got away from out of +peaceful enclosures; and she walked up the avenue slowly; too slowly +for such a young life-traveller. She had no need to knock this time, +but just opened the door and went straight to Mr. Richmond's study. + +That was peace itself. It was almost too pleasant, to Matilda's fancy. +A cool matting was on the floor; the light softened by green hanging +blinds; the soft gloom of books, as usual, all about; Mr. Richmond's +table, and work materials, and empty chair telling of his habitual +occupation; and on his table a jar of beautiful flowers, which some +parishioner's careful hand had brought for his pleasure. The room was +sweet with geranium and lily odours; and so still and pure-breathed, +that the flowers in their depth of colour and wealth of fragrance +seemed to speak through the stillness. Matilda did not ask what they +said, though maybe she heard. She came a little way into the room, +stood still and looked about her a while; and then the child flung +herself down on her knees beside a chair and burst into a passion of +weeping. + +It lasted so long and was so violent that she never heard Mr. Richmond +come in. And he on his part was astonished. At the first sound of his +voice Matilda stopped crying and let him raise her from the floor; but +he did not put her into a chair. Instead of that he sat down himself +and drew her to his side. Of course he asked what the matter was. Also, +of course, Matilda could not tell him. Mr. Richmond found that out, and +then took another road to his object. He let Matilda get quite quiet; +gave her a bunch of grapes to eat, while he seemed to busy himself +among his books and papers; at last put that down, and took Matilda's +plate from her. + +"You do not come to church in the evening lately, I observe, Tilly," he +remarked. + +"No, sir. Aunt Candy does not like me to go." + +"And you have not been to the prayer meeting either, or to the meetings +of our Commission. The 'Band' is called our 'Christian Commission,' +now." + +"No, sir." And Matilda's eyes watered. + +"For the same reason?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Not because you have lost pleasure in such meetings?" + +"Oh no, Mr. Richmond! Did you think I had?" she asked, timidly. + +"I could not _know_, you know," said Mr. Richmond, "and I wanted to ask +you. I am very glad to hear it is no bad reason that keeps you away." + +"I didn't say _that_, Mr. Richmond," Matilda answered, slowly. "Could +it be a good reason?" + +"Why, it might," said Mr. Richmond, cheerfully. "You might be not well +enough; or you might have more important duties to do at home; or you +might be unwilling to come alone; and all those might be good reasons +for staying away." + +"It was no such reason," said Matilda. + +There was silence. + +"You wanted to talk to me, you said," Mr. Richmond observed. + +"Yes, Mr. Richmond, I do; if I only knew how." + +"Is it so difficult? It never used to be very difficult, Matilda." + +"No, sir; but things are--different." + +"_You_ are not different, are you?" + +"I don't know," said Matilda, slowly; "I am afraid so. I feel very +different." + +"In what way?" + +"Mr. Richmond," she went on, still slowly, and as if she were +meditating her words,--"I don't see how I can do just right." + +"In what respect?" said the minister, very quietly. Again Matilda +paused. + +"Mr. Richmond, is it always wrong to hate people?" + +"What things should make it right for us to hate people?" + +"I don't know," said Matilda in the same considering way, "when there +isn't the least thing you can love them for, or like them?" + +"What if the Lord had gone by that rule in dealing with us?" + +"Oh, but He is so good." + +"And has commanded us to be just as good, has He not?" + +"But can we, Mr. Richmond?" + +"What do you think, Tilly, the Lord meant when He gave us the order?" + +"He meant we should try." + +"Do you think He meant that we should only _try?_ do you think He did +not mean that we should be as He said?" + +"And love hateful people?" + +"What do you think, Tilly?" + +"O Mr. Richmond, I think I'm not good." + +"What is the matter, my dear child?" Mr. Richmond said tenderly, as +Matilda burst into quiet tears again. "What troubles you?" + +"_That_, Mr. Richmond. I'm afraid I am not good, for I am not like +that; and I don't see how I can be." + +"What is the hindrance? or the difficulty?" + +"Because, Mr. Richmond, I am afraid I hate my Aunt Candy." + +Mr. Richmond was quite silent, and Matilda sobbed awhile. + +"Do I understand you aright?" he said, at last. "Do you say that you +hate your aunt?" + +"I am afraid I do." + +"Why should you hate her? Is she not very kind to you?" + +"I do not call her kind," said Matilda. + +"In what respect is she not kind?" + +The child sobbed again, with the unspoken difficulty; stifled sobs. + +"She is not cruel to you?" said Mr. Richmond. + +"I think she is cruel," said Matilda; "for she does not in the least +care about doing things that I do not like; she does not care at all +whether I like them or not. I think she likes it." + +"What?" + +"Just to do things that I can't bear, Mr. Richmond; and she knows I +can't bear them." + +"What is her reason for doing these things?" + +"I think the greatest reason is because she knows I can't bear them. I +think I am growing wicked." + +"Is it because you displease her in any way, that she does it for a +punishment?" + +"I do not displease her in any way," said poor Matilda. + +"And yet she likes to grieve you?" + +"She said I wanted putting down. And now, I suppose I am put down. I am +just in prison. I can't do anything. I can't go to Mrs. Laval's house +any more. I must not go to Lilac Lane any more. She won't let me. And O +Mr. Richmond, we were going to do such nice things!" + +"Who were going to do such nice things?" + +"Norton Laval and I." + +"What things were they?" + +"We were going to do _such_ nice things! Mrs. Laval gave me money for +them, and Norton, he has money always; and we were going to have Mrs. +Eldridge's house cleaned, and get a bedstead, and towels, and a table, +and ever so many things for her, to make her comfortable; and I thought +it would be so pleasant to get the things and take them to her. And +aunt Candy says I am not to go again." + +"Did you tell your aunt what you were going to do?" + +"Oh no, sir; she thinks I have no business with such things; and she +does not like anybody to go into very poor houses." + +"Then you did not ask her leave?" + +"It never is any use to ask her anything. She won't let me go out to +church now, except in the morning, and then sometimes she makes me go +with her." + +Mr. Richmond was silent for some time. Matilda grew quiet, and they +both were still. + +"And the worst of it all is," resumed Matilda, at last, "that it makes +me hate her." + +"I do not like to hear you say that." + +"No, Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, very sorrowfully. + +"Do you think it is right?" + +"No, sir." + +"Do you think you cannot help doing what is wrong." + +"I don't think I can like Aunt Candy." + +"We will pass that. But between not liking and hating, there is a wide +distance. Are you obliged to hate her?" + +Matilda did not answer. + +"Do you think anybody can be a child of God and have _hatred_ in his +heart?" + +"How can I help it, Mr. Richmond?" said Matilda, piteously. + +"How can you help anything? The best way is to be so full of love to +Jesus that you love everybody for his sake." + +"But people that are not good," said Matilda. + +"It is easy to love people that are good. The wonder of the love of the +Lord Jesus is, that it comes to people who are not good. And His +children are like Him. 'Be ye followers of God,' He tells them, 'as +dear children; and walk in love.'" + +"I am not like that, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said, sadly. + +"Didn't you love little Lem Dow? I am sure he is not very good." + +"But he never troubled me, much," said Matilda. "He does not make me +miserable all the day long." + +Mr. Richmond paused again. + +"Our Master knew what it was to be ill-treated by bad people, Matilda." + +"Yes, Mr. Richmond." + +"How did he feel towards them?" + +"Oh, but I am not like that," said Matilda again. + +"You must be, if you are His child." + +"Must I?" said Matilda, the tears dropping from her eyes quietly. "How +can I? If you only knew, Mr. Richmond!" + +"No matter; the Lord knows. Tell Him all about it, and pray to be made +so like Him and to love Him so well that you may love even this unkind +friend." + +"I don't think she is my friend," said Matilda; "but it don't make any +difference." + +"No, it does not make any difference." + +"Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, timidly, after a moment, "won't you pray +with me?" + +Which the minister instantly did. Matilda wept quietly all the time of +his prayer, and after they rose from their knees, leaning her head on +Mr. Richmond's shoulder, where she had poured out her troubles once +before. Her friend let her alone, keeping his arm round her kindly, +till the child raised her head and wiped her eyes. + +"Do you feel better?" he whispered then. Matilda answered "yes," in an +answering whisper. + +"But Mr. Richmond," she said, presently, "I am very sorry for Lilac +Lane." + +"I am very sorry," he said. + +"There is the money in my purse, all ready, and our list of things. It +would have been so pleasant." + +"Very pleasant," Mr. Richmond answered. + +"And now I can't do Band work any more," Matilda went on. "I have no +opportunities for anything any more. I cannot do anything at all." + +"There might be something to say about that," Mr. Richmond replied; +"but I think you have had enough talk just now. Is your sorrow on +account of Lilac Lane because you have lost the pleasure? or because +Mrs. Eldridge has lost it?" + +"Why, both," said Matilda. + +"I suppose so. Would it be any comfort to you to know that the work was +done, even though you did not see it?" + +"What, you mean the house cleaned and the things got, and Mrs. Eldridge +fixed up as we meant to do it?" + +"I mean that." + +"Oh yes," said Matilda. "If I could know it was done, I would not be +half so sorry about it. But Norton can't manage alone; and Maria has no +time." + +"No, but somebody else might. Now go off and talk to Miss Redwood; and +make some more gingerbread or something; and after tea we will see +about your lost opportunities if you like." + +"Would Miss Redwood do all that for me?" said Matilda. + +"You can consult her and find out." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Miss Redwood was mopping up the yellow painted floor of her kitchen, as +Matilda softly pushed open the door and looked in. + +"Who's that?" said the housekeeper. "Floor's all wet; and I don't want +no company till there's a place for 'em to be. Stop! is that Tilly +Englefield? Why, I declare it is! Come right in, child. You're the +greatest stranger in town." + +"But I am afraid to come in, Miss Redwood." + +"Then you're easy scared. Come in, child. Step up on that cheer, and +sit down on my table. There! now I can look at you, and you can look at +me, if you want to. I'll be through directly, and it won't take this +paint no time to dry. How's all the folks at your house?" + +"Gone to New York for the day; Aunt Candy and Cousin Clarissa are." + +"Wouldn't ha' hurted 'em to have took you along. Why didn't they?" + +"Oh they were going shopping," said Matilda. + +"Well, had you any objections to go shopping?" said the housekeeper, +sitting back on her feet and wringing her cloth, as she looked at +Matilda perched up on the table. + +"I hadn't any shopping to do, you know," said Matilda. + +"I hain't no shopping to do, nother," said Miss Redwood, resuming her +work vigorously; "but I always like to see other folks' goins on. It's +a play to me, jest to go in 'long o' somebody else and see 'em pull +down all the things, and turn over all the colours in the rainbow, and +suit themselves with purchases I wouldn't look at, and leave my gowns +and shawls high and dry on the shelf. And when I go out, I have bought +as many dresses as they have, and I have kept my money for all." + +"But sometimes people buy what you would like too, Miss Redwood, don't +they?" + +"Well, child, not often; 'cause, you see, folks's minds is sot on +different things; and somehow, folks's gowns have a way o' comin' out +o' their hearts. I kin tell, pretty well, what sort o' disposition +there is inside of a dress, or under a bonnet, without askin' nobody to +give me a character. What's be come o' you all these days? Ha' you made +any more gingerbread?" + +"No." + +"I guess you've forgotten all about it, then. What's the reason, eh?" + +"I have been too busy, Miss Redwood." + +"Goin' to school again?" + +"No, I've been busy at home." + +"But makin' gingerbread is play, child; _that_ ain't work." + +Matilda was silent; and the housekeeper presently came to a pause +again; sat back on her feet, wrung her mopping cloth, and considered +Matilda. + +"Don't you want to make some this afternoon?" + +"If you please; yes, I should like it," said the little girl. + +"Humph!" said the housekeeper. "What have you been tiring yourself with +to-day?" + +"I am not tired," said Matilda. "Thank you, Miss Redwood." + +"If I was to get a good bowl o' sour cream now, and shew you how to +toss up a short-cake--how would you like that?" + +"Oh, I would like it very much--if I could." + +"Sit still then," said the housekeeper, "till my floor's dry. Why +hain't you been to see me before, eh? Everybody else in creation has +been in at the parsonage door but you. You ain't beginnin' to take up +with that French minister, air you?" + +"Oh no, indeed, Miss Redwood! But he isn't a French minister." + +"I don't care what he is," said the housekeeper; "he takes airs; and a +minister as takes airs had better be French, I think. What do you go to +hear him for, then?" + +"Aunt Candy takes me." + +"Then you don't go because you want to? that's what I am drivin' at." + +"Oh no, indeed I don't, Miss Redwood. I would never go, if I could help +myself." + +"What harm would happen to you if you didn't?" asked the housekeeper, +dryly. But Matilda was distressed and could not tell. + +"There is ministers as takes airs," continued the housekeeper sitting +up and giving her mop a final wring, "but they can't kind o' help it; +it's born with 'em, you may say; it's their natur. It's a pity, but so +it is. That's one thing. I'm sorry for 'em, for I think they must have +a great load to carry. But when a man goes to bowin' and curchying, +outside o' society, and having a tailor of his own to make his coat +unlike all other folks, I think I don't want to have him learn _me_ +manners. Folks always takes after their minister--more or less." + +"Do you think so?" said Matilda, dubiously. + +"Why yes, child. I said _more_ or _less;_ with some of 'em it's a good +deal less. Don't you do what Mr. Richmond tells you?" + +"I try," said Matilda. + +"So I try," said Miss Redwood, getting upon her feet. "La! we all do--a +little. It's natur. Don't your aunt, now, take after _her_ minister?" + +"I suppose so," said Matilda, with a sigh. + +"Don't you go gettin' into that Frenchman's ways. Mr. Richmond's thumb +is worth all there is o' _him_." + +"Miss Redwood," said Matilda, "I want to ask you something." + +"Well, why don't you?" + +"I want to know if you won't do something for me." + +"Talk away," said the housekeeper. "I hear." She went meanwhile getting +out the flour and things wanted for the short-cake. + +"There's a poor old woman that lives in Lilac Lane; Mrs. Eldridge, her +name is." + +"Sally Eldridge," said Miss Redwood. "La! I know her. She's poor, as +you say." + +"You know where she lives?" + +"Course I do, child. I know where everybody lives." + +"You know she is very poor, and her house wants cleaning, and she +hasn't a great many things to be comfortable." + +"How come you to know it?" asked the housekeeper. + +"I have been there. I have seen her. I know her very well." + +"Who took you there?" + +"Nobody took me there. I heard about her, and I went to see her." + +"You didn't learn that of the French minister." + +"But he is not French, Miss Redwood." + +"I wisht he was," said the housekeeper. "I say nothin' agin other +country people, only to be sorry for 'em; but I get put out o' my +patience when I see one of the right stock makin' a fool of himself. +Well, honey, what about Mis' Eldridge?" + +"I've got some money, Miss Redwood,--somebody gave me some money, to +get things for her and do what I like; and Norton Laval and I were +going to have her made nice and comfortable. But now Aunt Candy will +not let me go there any more, and I can't do what I wanted to do; and I +thought--Mr. Richmond thought--maybe you would see to it for me." + +"What's to be done?" said the housekeeper. + +"Why, first of all, Miss Redwood, her house wants cleaning. It is not +fit to put anything nice into it." + +"All Lilac Lane wouldn't be the worse of a cleanin'," said the +housekeeper; "men and women and all; but I don't know who's to do the +cleanin'." + +"I thought maybe Sabrina Rogers would do it,--if she was paid, you +know. She lives just over the way, and she _is_ pretty clean." + +"Kin try," said the housekeeper. "No harm in tryin'. I guess a dollar +would fetch her round. Supposin' it was cleaned; what's to do next?" + +"Get things, Miss Redwood," said Matilda, looking up at her eagerly. +"You know she wants so much. I want to get a bedstead for her, and a +decent bed; her bed isn't a bed, and it lies on the floor. And she has +no way to wash herself; I want to send her a little washstand, and +basin, and pitcher, and towels; and a table for the other room; and a +saucepan to cook things in; and some bread, and meat, and sugar, and +other things; for she hasn't comfortable things to eat. And one or two +calico dresses, you know; she wants them so much." + +The child's face grew excitedly eager. There came a glitter in the +housekeeper's faded blue eye as it looked down upon her. + +"But, honey, all these things'll cost a sight o' money." + +"I've got money." + +"It'll take all you've got." + +"But I want to do what I can, Miss Redwood." + +"I kind o' don't think it's right," said the housekeeper. "Why should +you go a-spendin' all your little savin's upon Sally Eldridge? And it's +only one old woman helped, when all's done; there's lots more. It's +somebody else that ought to do it; 'tain't your work, child." + +"But I want to do it, Miss Redwood. And I've got the money." + +"I wonder how much better she'll be at the end of six months," said the +housekeeper. "Well, you want me to take this job in hand, do you?" + +"If you can; if you would be so very good." + +"You make me feel as mean as water," said the housekeeper. "It'll take +me a little while to get up any notion o' my goodness again. I suppose +it'll come, with the old pride o' me. I know what the Bible says, but I +kind o' didn't think it meant it; and I've been a makin' myself +comfortable all my days, or workin' for it, and consolin' my conscience +with thinkin' it was no use to help _one;_ but now yours and mine would +make two; and somebody else's would ha' been three. La! child, you make +me ashamed o' myself." + +"But Miss Redwood," said Matilda, in much surprise, "you are always +doing something for somebody; I don't know what you mean." + +"Not this way, child," said the housekeeper. "I kind o' thought my +money was my own, after I had worked for it." + +"Well, so it is." + +"And so is your'n your'n; but it looks like as if what was your'n was +the Lord's. And to be sure, that's what the minister is always a +sayin'; but I kind o' thought it was because he was the minister, and +that Sarah Redwood hadn't no call to be just exactly as good as him." + +And to Matilda's bewilderment, she saw the corner of Miss Redwood's +apron lifted to wipe off a tear. + +"Come, child, make your short-cake!" she began with fresh vigour. +"There's water to wash your hands. Now we must be spry, or the minister +'ll be wanting his tea, and I should feel cheap if it warn't ready. +I've got my lesson, for to-day; and now you shall have your'n. I never +did want many blows of the hammer to drive a nail into me. Here's an +apron for you. Now sift your flour, just as you did for the +gingerbread; and we'll have it baking in no time. Short-cake must be +made in five minutes, or it'll be heavy; and it must bake almost as +quick. Turn it up, dear, with the ends o' your fingers, while I pour +the cream in--just toss it round--don't seem to take hold o' +nothing--kind o' play with it; and yet you must manage to throw the +mixin's together somehow. Yes, that'll do very well, that'll do very +well; you've got a real good hand, light and firm. Now bring it +together, dear, in one lump, and we'll cut it in two pieces and put it +in the pans." + +This was done satisfactorily, and the pans were slipped into the hot +oven. Matilda washed her hands, and the housekeeper made neat and swift +preparations for tea. Everything was so nice about her, her kitchen and +pantries were in such a state of order and propriety, and so well +supplied too; it was a pleasure to see her go from one to the other and +bring out what she wanted. Matilda was allowed to take cups, and +plates, and sugar, and butter from her hand, and found it a most +enlivening kind of amusement; especially the placing her own plate and +knife, and seeing it there on Mr. Richmond's tea-table. Then came the +excitement of taking out the short-cake, which had puffed itself up and +browned in the most pleasant manner; and then the minister was called +out to tea. It was an odd little room, between the study and the +kitchen, where they took tea; not big enough for anything but the table +and a convenient passage round it. Two little windows looked out over a +pleasant field, part of which was cultivated as the parsonage garden, +and beyond that, to white palings and neat houses, clustering loosely +in pretty village fashion. Among them, facing on the street which +bordered the parsonage and church grounds at the back, Matilda could +see the brown front of the Academy, where Norton Laval went to school; +and trees mingled their green tops with the house roofs everywhere. The +sun was going down in the bright western sky, which was still beyond +all this, and nothing disagreeable was within sight at all. + +"What are you thinking about, Tilly, that you look so hard out of my +windows?" the minister asked. + +"Nothing, Mr. Richmond. At least--I was thinking, whether you knew +Norton. Norton Laval." + +"He comes to the Sunday-school, I think. No, I do not know him very +well. Do you?" + +"Oh yes." + +"Is he a nice fellow?" + +"He is very nice, Mr. Richmond." + +"Does he love the Bible as well as you do?" + +"I don't think he knows much about it, Mr. Richmond," Matilda answered, +looking wistful. + +"If he is a friend of your's, cannot you help him?" + +"I do try," said Matilda. "But, Mr. Richmond, you know a boy thinks he +knows about things better than I do, or than any girl does." + +Mr. Richmond smiled. + +"Besides, I can't see him now," Matilda added. "I have no chance." And +a cloud came over her face. + +"Miss Redwood," said the minister, "do you think you can manage a +certain business in Lilac Lane which Matilda had a mind to entrust to +you? I suppose you have been consulting about it." + +"Does Mr. Richmond think it'll do much good?" was the housekeeper's +rejoinder. + +"Do I think what will do good?" + +"Gettin' a new bedstead and fixin's for Sally Eldridge." + +"I don't know what 'fixin's' are, in this connection," said the +minister. "I have heard of 'light bread and chicken fixings,' at the +South." + +"The bread and the chickens are comin' too, for all I know," said the +housekeeper. "I mean sheets, and coverlets, and pillows, and decent +things. She hain't none now." + +"I should think she would sleep better," said the minister, gravely. + +"Had this child ought to spend her little treasures for to put that old +house in order? It's just sheddin' peas into a basket that has got no +bottom to it." + +"So bad as that?" said the minister. + +"Well, Mr. Richmond knows," the housekeeper went on, "there ain't no +end o' the troubles there is in the world, nor yet o' the poverty; and +Sally Eldridge, she'll be the better maybe, as long as the things last; +but there's all the rest o' Lilac Lane, without speaking of what there +is beside in Shadywalk; and the chilld 'll be without her dollars, and +the world 'll be pretty much where it was." + +"I don't see but that reasoning would stop my preaching, Miss Redwood." + +"I don't mean it, sir, I'm sure." + +"I don't think you mean what you say. What is the use of giving me a +good cup of tea, when so many other people cannot have one at all?" + +"The minister knows a cup o' good tea when he sees it," answered the +housekeeper. + +Mr. Richmond laughed. "But don't you think Sally Eldridge, for +instance, would know a good bed?" + +"There ain't no possibilities o' makin' some o' them folks keerful and +thrivin'," said the housekeeper, firmly. "'Tain't in 'em; and what's +the use o' havin' things if folks ain't keerful? Sally Eldridge had her +house respectable once; I mind her very well, when she kept the gate at +Judge Brockenhurst's big place; and she had wages, and her man he had +good wages; and now the peas is all out o' the basket. And is there any +use, buyin' more to put in? The basket 'll never be mended. It'll let +out as fast as it takes in." + +"The basket, as you put it, is out of Sally's hands now," Miss Redwood. +"She is one of the helpless ones. Don't you think it would be a good +thing to make her life more comfortable? I think we had better take her +some of this short-cake, Matilda. Miss Redwood, as for you, I shall +expect to hear that you have lamed your arm doing something for her +comfort, or half broken your back carrying a heavy basket to Lilac +Lane, or something of that sort, judging by what I know of you already." + +"I'm willin'," said the housekeeper. "But it ain't this child's +business. She hain't no call to give all she's got to Sally Eldridge." + +"I suppose," said the minister, with a look at Matilda, which both she +and the housekeeper read with their hearts,--"I suppose she is thinking +of the word that will be spoken one day, 'Inasmuch as ye did it unto +one of the least of these,'--'He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth +to the Lord; and that which he hath given will He pay him again'!" + +"Then Mr. Richmond thinks it would be a good use of her money?" + +"There might possibly be better; but if it is the best she knows, that +is all she can do. I have a great opinion of doing what our hands find +to do, Miss Redwood; if the Lord gives other work, He will send the +means too." + +"There's a frame bedstead lyin' up in the loft," said the housekeeper. +"'Tain't no good to any one, and it only wants a new rope to cord it +up; perhaps the minister would let Sally have that; and it would save +so much." + +"By all means, let her have that; and anything else we can spare. Now, +Matilda, you and I will go and attend to our other business." + +They went back to the study, where the light was growing soft. Mr. +Richmond drew up the blinds of the west window and let in the glow and +colour from a rich sunset sky. He stood looking at it, with the glow +upon his face; and standing so, spoke-- + +"What was it, Matilda?" + +Matilda on her part sat down in a chair, and with a face of childish +grave meditation, peered into the great bunch of asparagus with which +Miss Redwood had filled the minister's chimney. She sat in shadow all +over, and answered as if taking out the very secret burden of her heart +for her friend's inspection. + +"Mr. Richmond, I can't do Band work any more. I can't do anything. I +can't do anything at all. You told us to buy up opportunities; but I +have no opportunities now even to buy." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Yes, sir," said the child, slowly. "I am quite sure. I cannot do any +work at all. And I would like it so much." + +"Wait a bit," said the minister, still looking at the evening glow; +"maybe you are too hasty." + +"No, sir. Aunt Candy will not let me go out, and I can see nobody." + +"Whose servant are you?" + +"I am Christ's servant," said the child, softly. + +"Well. Being His servant, do you want to do His will, or your own?" + +"Why--I want to do His will," Matilda answered, speaking a little +slowly. + +"Isn't it His will just now that you should be without your old +liberty, and unable to do these things you want to do?" + +"Yes, sir," Matilda said, rather unwillingly. "I suppose it is." + +"Are you willing His will should be done?" + +Mr. Richmond had faced round from the window now, and Matilda met his +look, and did not answer for a moment. + +"Is it His will, Mr. Richmond, that I should have no opportunity to do +anything?" + +"What do you think? If He had chosen to do it, He could have placed you +in the midst of the fullest opportunity. He _has_ placed you under the +rule of your aunt. Are you willing His will should be done, and as long +as He pleases?" + +Matilda looked in her friend's face, but it put the question steadily; +and she faltered and burst into tears. + +"That is a great question, Tilly," said the minister, kindly. "Is it +yourself you want to please? or the Lord Jesus? He can have these +outside things done by other people, even if you cannot help in them; +but of _you_ the first thing He wants is an obedient child. Will you be +obedient? That is, will you agree to His will?" + +"Mr. Richmond--must I be _willing_ to do nothing?" Matilda asked +without uncovering her face. + +"If the Lord bids you do nothing." + +"But I thought--He bade me--do so many things?" + +"So He does; and just now the very first and foremost of them is, that +you should be content with His will." + +The daylight had faded sensibly when the next words were spoken, so +many seconds went by before Matilda was ready to speak them. + +"Mr. Richmond," she said, after that pause of hidden struggle, "isn't +it very hard?" + +"It depends upon how much any one loves the Lord, my dear child. The +more you love Him, the less you want your own will. But you were never +more mistaken in your life, than just now, when you thought He had +taken all your opportunities away." + +"Why, what opportunities have I, Mr. Richmond?" said Matilda, lifting +up her face. + +"This, for one. Opportunity to be obedient. The Bible says that Christ, +coming here to stand in our place and save us, learned obedience by the +things which He _suffered;_ and I don't know but we must, too." + +Matilda looked very hard at her adviser; it was not easy for her to get +at this new thought. + +"Cannot you as truly obey, when God says you must be still, as when He +says you must work?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And in either case, obedience is in the heart--not in the fingers or +the tongue. Isn't it so?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You see one opportunity, Matilda." + +"Yes, sir." The answers were very meek. + +"My dear child, is that the only one?" + +"I cannot go out, Mr. Richmond." + +"No, I understand. But in the house. Have you no opportunities to be +patient, for instance?" + +"Yes, sir!" and a faint colour rose in Matilda's cheek. + +"My child, patience is something that, when God's children show, they +always honour Him." + +"How, Mr. Richmond?" + +"It shows His grace and power in them; for they cannot be truly patient +without His help. And then others see it and acknowledge that there is +reality in religion, and that God's will is beautiful." + +"I never thought of that," said Matilda. + +"Have you no opportunity to forgive injuries, or unkindness?" + +"Oh yes, Mr. Richmond!" The answer came from some deep place in +Matilda's heart. + +"Do you use that opportunity well?" + +"I don't think I have, Mr. Richmond," said Matilda, looking very +sorrowful. "I think, instead, I have been hating my----" + +"Yes. Shall that be at an end now?" + +"But how can it?" said Matilda. "I get so vexed"--and she wiped away a +tear. "I get _so_ vexed, Mr. Richmond!" + +"I am very sorry you have occasion. But you cannot forgive people +_unless_ you have occasion." + +"How can I then?" + +"By going to Jesus, just as the sick people went to Him in the old +time, and getting cured, as they did. 'If thou canst believe; all +things are possible to him that believeth.'" + +Matilda steadied her trembling little lips, and stood listening. + +"Haven't you opportunities to do kindnesses?" Mr. Richmond then said, +softly. Matilda looked up and bowed her head a little. Perhaps lips +were not ready. + +"Do you use _them_ well?" + +"I think not, Mr. Richmond--lately." + +"You know, you can do kindness indoors as well as out of doors, and to +disagreeable people as well as to nice people. We are commanded to be +followers of God, as dear children." + +The tears gathered again. + +"See how much kindness you can do. No matter whether it is deserved or +not. That is no part of the question. And have you not opportunity to +learn something?" + +"I am not going to school," said Matilda. + +"Nor learning anything at home?" + +"Not much. Not much that is good for anything." + +"Never mind. You can do that for God." + +"Oh no, Mr. Richmond; it is not useful enough." + +"You do not know how useful it may be." + +"Yes, sir, because it isn't that sort of thing. Aunt Candy is making me +learn to mend lace. It is no use at all." + +"I'll tell you a secret," said Mr. Richmond. Matilda looked up with +fresh eagerness into his face. + +"Whenever the Lord puts you in the way of learning anything, you may be +sure He means you to learn it. He knows the use; and if you neglect the +chance, the next thing will be, you will find He will give you work to +do which you cannot do, because you neglected to learn what He gave you +to learn." + +"But mending lace?" said Matilda. + +"I don't care what it is. Yes, mending lace. I don't know what use you +will find for that accomplishment, and you don't; all the same, you +_will_ know, when the time comes; and then you will be very sorry and +mortified to find yourself unable for the work given you, if you +despised your opportunity of preparation. And then it will be too late +to mend that, as well as the lace." + +"And is that true of all sorts of things, Mr. Richmond?" + +"Of all sorts of things. Whenever the Lord puts a chance of learning +something in your way, you may be quite sure He has a use and a meaning +in it. He has given it to you to do." + +"Then all my learning to cook, and do things about the house?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Richmond, smiling. "It is not difficult to see a use +for that; is it?" + +"No, sir--I suppose not," the child said, thoughtfully. + +"Have you not opportunities for being thankful too, in the midst of all +these other things?" + +"Yes, Mr. Richmond." + +But the child stood looking at him with a wistful, intent face, and +wide-open, thoughtful eyes; so sober, and so eager, and so pitiful, +that it made an unconscious plea to the minister's heart. + +"Come," said he; "we have so much to say to our Lord, let us say it." + +And they kneeled down, and Mr. Richmond put all Matilda's heart into a +prayer for her, and some of his own. + +"I must go now, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said presently after. But she +said it with a much more cheerful tone. + +"I shall want to hear how you get on," said Mr. Richmond. "When will +you take tea with me again?" + +"Oh, I don't know, sir. Aunt Candy is always at home." + +"And keeps you there?" + +"Yes, sir. Lately. She didn't at first." + +"Well, I must see about that. I think you must be allowed to come and +see me, at all events. Perhaps you do not know, Matilda, that your +mother in almost the last hour of her life asked me to take care of +you." + +"Did she?" Matilda exclaimed, with a wonderful change of voice and +manner. + +"Yes. She did. In your aunt's presence." + +"And you will, Mr. Richmond?" said the child, a little timidly. + +"And I will--while I live myself." + +"Then I _can_ come and see you, Mr. Richmond?" + +"I think you can. I will see about it." + +Matilda gave her friend a good night which was almost joyous, and then +ran out to the kitchen. + +"Miss Redwood," she said, "did you change your mind again about Mrs. +Eldridge? I thought you agreed, and that you were going to do all that +for me." + +"No, child; I hain't changed my mind. I changed it oncet, you know, to +come over to you. I never did go both ways, like a crab." + +"But you said at tea----" + +"Well, I wished the minister'd tell you to keep your money to hum. +'Tain't _your_ work, as I can see, to fit out Sally Eldridge with +notions; it's like enough it's mine, and I'm willin' to take it, and do +it, and see to it. You put your money by, child, against a wet day. +Maybe you'll want it yet." + +"Don't you remember, Miss Redwood, what Mr. Richmond repeated at +tea?--'the Lord will pay it again?'" + +"Well," said the housekeeper, "let the pay come to me, then." + +"No," said Matilda, "that won't do. It's my business, Miss Redwood, and +I asked you to do it for me; and I'll give you the money. How much do +you want?" + +"I hain't bought the things yet; I don' know; and some of 'em won't +have to be bought, with a little contrivance. I'll spend the least I +kin; and then we'll talk about it." + +Matilda gave her an energetic kiss and hurried away. But I am afraid +the housekeeper's apron went up to her eyes again. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Matilda went home with new strength, and full of the will to do the +very best she could in her hard circumstances. But the next morning's +dousing, and scrubbing, and rubbing down seemed more fierce than ever. +If Matilda ever ventured to say "Oh don't!"--Mrs. Candy was sure to +give her more of what she did not like. She had learned to keep her +tongue still between her teeth. She had learned to wince and be quiet. +But this morning she could hardly be quiet. "Can I help hating Aunt +Candy?" she thought to herself as she went down-stairs. Then she found +Maria full of work for which she wanted more fingers than her own; and +Matilda's were very busy till breakfast time, setting the table, +hulling strawberries, sweeping the hall, making coffee, baking the +biscuit. Both the girls busy, and Maria cross. Breakfast was not +sociable; and Matilda was summoned to go to her aunt's room as soon as +the dishes were put away. + +"Can I help it?" thought Matilda. And as she went up the stairs she +prayed for a loving heart, and that this feeling, which was like a +sickness, might be taken away from her. + +"What makes you look so meek?" exclaimed Clarissa, as she entered the +room. Mrs. Candy lifted her face to see. + +"I like to see children look meek," she said. "That's the way they +should look. Matilda's cold bath is doing her good." + +"Mamma, you are very severe with your cold baths!" said the young lady. + +"They did _you_ good once," said her mother. "You need not speak +against them. Matilda is a different child since she has been in my +bath. Here is your lace, Matilda. I am too busy to hear you read this +morning. Take your seat over there, and see how well you can do this; +it's rather a difficult piece." + +It was a very difficult piece. Matilda's heart sank when she saw it; +besides that her aunt's words seemed to have taken away all the +meekness she had, and to have stirred up anew all her worst feelings. +She put her hand to her face to hide her eyes, while she prayed afresh +for help and a sweeter spirit. She seemed to be all on edge. + +"What's the matter?" said Mrs. Candy. "Begin your work, child; you'll +want all the time you have got, I warn you. Don't waste your time +idling." + +Matilda tried to remember what Mr. Richmond had said the night before, +of the uses of things; and tried to pray quietly while she was taking +up threads in her lace. But remembering and praying made the tears +come; and then she could not see the threads, and that would not do. + +By and by she became interested in what her aunt and cousin were saying. + +They were unfolding their yesterday's purchases, and talking about what +they were going to do with them. Gauzes, and muslins, and other stuffs +new to Matilda, were laid open on the bed and hung about over the backs +of chairs, and the room looked like a mercer's shop. Here was a +delicate embroidered white muslin; there a rosy gauze; there a black +tissue; here something else of elegant pattern; with ribbands, and +laces, and rufflings, and a great variety of pretty articles. Matilda +thought her aunt and cousin were having a great deal more amusing time +than she had. + +"What are you doing, Matilda?" Mrs. Candy's voice said again. + +"Looking at Cousin Issa's things, ma'am." + +"Mind your work, child. You will not have that done by dinner-time." + +"Why, I _can't_, Aunt Candy." + +"You could if you had been industrious. You cannot now, very likely. +But you must finish it before you leave this room." + +"It is no use!" said Matilda, throwing the lace down; "I can't _near_ +get it done for dinner. It is very hard, and it will take a great +while!" + +Mrs. Candy waited a moment. + +"Pick up your work," she said, "and come here and stand before me, and +beg my pardon." + +Matilda felt as if it was impossible to do this. + +"Do it, and quickly," said Mrs. Candy; "or your punishment will come +to-morrow morning, child. Do not be foolish. I shall give you something +hot as well as cold, I warn you." + +It seemed to Matilda that she could not humble herself to do as she was +bidden; and the struggle was terrible for a minute or two. It shook the +child's whole nature. But the consciousness of the indignity awaiting +her in case of refusal fought with the keen sense of indignity now, and +conquered in time. Matilda picked up her work, came before Mrs. Candy, +and asked her pardon. + +"Very well," said that lady, tapping her cheek carelessly; "now go and +sit down and behave yourself. The lace must be finished before you +leave my room." + +It was a day of sharp trial to Matilda, all the more, perhaps, that it +came after a time of so much relief, and hope, and help. Matilda was +disappointed. She was not a passionate child; but for some hours a +storm of passion filled her heart which she could not control. Her lace +needle went in and out, keeping time to the furious swayings of +indignation and resentment and mortified pride and restless despair. +She was in her aunt's hands; completely in her power; helpless to +change anything; obliged even to swallow her feelings and hide her +displeasure. For a while that morning, Matilda felt as if she would +have given almost anything for the freedom to show her aunt what she +thought of her. She dared not do it, even so much as by a look. She was +forced to keep a quiet face and sit obediently mending her difficult +piece of lace; and the child's heart was in great turmoil. With that, +by and by, there began to mingle whispers of conscience; little +whispers that anger and hatred and ill-will were not right, nor +becoming her profession, nor agreeing at all with that "walking in +love" which Mr. Richmond had spoken of the night before. And sorrow +took its part too among the feelings that were sweeping over and +through her heart; but Matilda could not manage them, nor rule herself, +and she at last longed for the dinner-bell to ring, when her aunt and +cousin would leave her and she would be alone. Lace-mending got on very +slowly; her eyes were often dim, and it hindered her; though she would +not let the tears fall. When the bell rang, and the door was locked +upon her, Matilda's work dropped, and she too herself almost fell upon +her knees in her eagerness to seek and get help. That was what she +prayed for; not that her aunt might grow kind, nor that she might be +somehow separated from her and taken from her rule; but that she might +have help to be right; a heart to love, and bear, and forgive, and be +gentle. Matilda prayed and prayed for that; while her lace lay on the +floor, and the dinner down-stairs was gloomily going on. + +"What's the matter with Matilda to-day?" Maria had inquired. + +"Only a little impatience of her duties," Mrs. Candy had replied, +quietly. + +"I don't see what duties she can have, to keep her shut up in your +room," said Maria, hotly. + +"No. My dear, there are a great many things you cannot see yet. And +where you cannot see, it is rather wise not to give opinion." + +"I have a right to an opinion about my sister, though," said Maria; +"and she isn't getting any good with all your shutting her up." + +"There I think differently from you, Maria. Matilda can darn stockings +now in a way I am not ashamed of; much better than you can, I assure +you; and she is going on to learn lace-mending beautifully." + +"What use is that to her? I should like to know!" said Maria, +scornfully. + +"It may be some use to me," said Mrs. Candy. + +"You are doing Matilda a great deal of mischief," said Maria. "She is +not the same child she was." + +"No, she is not," said Clarissa. "She is a great deal better behaved." + +"Yes. I have taught her to know her place," said Mrs. Candy. "It is a +pity that is what _you_ never were taught, Maria. You are too old now. +I couldn't take a switch to you, and that's the only way." + +"You never did to her?" exclaimed Maria, blazing with fury. + +"I never did," said Mrs. Candy; "but Matilda knows I would, at a +moment's notice, if necessity came. I may do it yet, but I rather think +I shall have no occasion." + +"You are a horrid woman!" exclaimed Maria. "_Of use to you_. Yes, that +is just what you care about. You want Matilda for a little drudge, to +mend your stockings, I suppose, and darn your lace. You are too mean to +live. If mamma had only known----" + +When people get so far as this in a burst of helpless rage, the next +thing usually is tears; and Maria broke down accordingly. Mrs. Candy +and Clarissa finished their dinner and went away. + +"One cannot stand much of this sort of thing, mamma," said Clarissa, as +they mounted the stairs. + +"I am not going to stand much of it," replied Mrs. Candy. "I am rather +glad of this outburst. It gives me the opportunity I wanted." + +"What will you do, mamma?" + +"I have been thinking for some time what I would do. This just gives me +the opening. I will get rid of this girl." + +"And what will you do with her?" + +"Let her go learn her sisters' trade; or some other, if she likes. We +do not suit each other, and I am tired of it." + +"Yes, and mamma, though it is so good of you to keep her in this way, +do you know you get no thanks for it?" + +"Oh, I never looked for thanks," said Mrs. Candy. + +"No, but I mean, people do not give you credit for it, mamma. I know +they do not." + +"Like enough. Well--I won't ask them." + +"And you will keep the little one?" + +"She's manageable. Yes, I will keep her. I like the child. She's +pretty, and clever too; and she'll be very nice when she grows up. I'll +keep her. I shall want her some day, when you get married." + +"Besides, I suppose people would say ill-natured things if you did not +keep one of them," said Clarissa. "Matilda has a temper; but she minds +you, mamma." + +"I have got her in hand pretty well," said Mrs. Candy, as she unlocked +the door. "Well, is that lace done? Not? Let me see. You have not done +a dozen stitches while I have been away!" + +"I'll do it now," said Matilda; so quietly and with a voice so cleared +of all roughness or ill-temper, that Mrs. Candy after looking at her, +passed on to her seat and said nothing further. + +But it cost Matilda some hours yet of patient diligence, before her +task was ended. Then she brought it to her aunt for approval. No fault +was found with it, and she was free to go down-stairs to Maria. Maria +had got out of the weeping mood into dry fury again. + +"I am not going to stand it!" she said. + +"What are you not going to stand?" + +"This way of going on. I will not put up with it any longer." + +"What can you do, Maria?" + +"I'll go away. I will! I declare I will. I will not be Aunt Candy's +cook and waiter any longer. I am not going to stand it. She may get her +own dinners--or get a girl." + +"But where can we go, Maria? It is no use to talk so. We haven't any +place." + +"She may keep you," said Maria; "but I'll go. I can't stand it. I don't +know where. Somewhere! Anywhere would be better than this." + +"I couldn't live here without you, Maria, you know," said the little +one. "Don't talk so. What has made you angry to-day?" + +"Why, the way you are served; and the way I am talked to." + +"Me?" said Matilda. "Never mind. You and I have a good deal of time for +ourselves, Maria. I shall get along, and I shall not mind so much. +Don't you mind." + +"I won't stay and see it," said Maria, stoutly; "nor I won't stay and +bear my part of it." + +"I quite agree with you," said Mrs. Candy, walking in from the other +room. The girls were in the kitchen. "I quite agree with you, Maria. It +is as unpleasant for me as it is for you, and you are doing no good to +Matilda. It will be much better for us to separate. I have been +thinking so for some time. You may choose what you will do, and I will +make arrangements. Either you may join Anne and Letitia in town, and +learn the business they are learning; or if you like any other business +better, I will try and arrange it for you. Let me know to-morrow +morning what you decide upon, and I will finish up the matter at once. +I am quite tired of the present state of things, as you say." + +Mrs. Candy finished her harangue and swept out by the other door. +Nobody had interrupted her, and when she was gone nobody spoke. The two +girls looked at each other, Maria with a face of consternation, Matilda +white with despair. You might have heard a pin fall in the kitchen, +while Mrs. Candy's footsteps sounded in the hall and going up stair +after stair. Then Matilda's head went down on the table. She had no +words. + +"The old horrid old thing!" was Maria's exclamation. "She came and +listened in the other room!" + +But Matilda did not answer, and there was no relief in the explanation. + +"I won't go!" said Maria next. "I won't go, unless I'm a mind to. It's +my mother's house, not hers." + +Matilda had no heart to answer such vain words. She knew they were vain. + +"Why don't you speak!" said Maria, impatiently. "Why do you sit like +that?" + +"It's no use, Maria," said the little one, without raising her head. + +"What is no use? I said I wouldn't go; and I will not, unless I choose. +She can't make me." + +"She will!" said Matilda, in a burst of despairing tears. + +And she did. Before the week was over, Maria was relieved at her post +in the kitchen and established with a dressmaker, to learn her trade. +But not in Shadywalk. Mrs. Candy thought, she said, that Maria would +have a better chance in a larger town, where there was more work and a +larger connection; so she arranged that she should go to Poughkeepsie. +And thither Maria went, to live and learn, as her aunt remarked. + +The change in Matilda's life was almost as great. She had no more now +to do in the work of the house; Mrs. Candy had provided herself with a +servant; and instead of cooking, and washing dishes, and dusting, and +sweeping, Matilda had studies. But she was kept as close as ever. She +had now to write, and cipher, and study French verbs, and read pages of +history. Clarissa was her mistress in all these, and recitations went +on under the eye of Mrs. Candy. Matilda's life was even a more busy one +than it had been before. Her lessons were severe, and were required in +perfection; she was forced to give many hours a day to the preparing of +them; and these hours were always in the afternoon and evening. The +mornings were spent still in Mrs. Candy's room. When the art of darning +lace was mastered, her aunt decided that it was good for her to learn +all kinds of sewing. Clarissa and her mother were engaged in making up +a quantity of dresses out of the materials they had purchased in New +York; and Matilda was set to run up breadths of skirts, till she could +do that thoroughly; then she was made to cover cord, by the scores of +yards, and to hem ruffles, and to gather them, and to sew on bindings, +and then to sew on hooks and eyes; and then to make button-holes. The +child's whole morning now was spent in the needle part of +mantua-making. After dinner came arithmetic, and French exercises, and +reading history; and the evening was the time for reciting. Matilda was +too tired when she went up to bed to do more than look at a verse or +two in her Bible, and make a very short prayer; she almost dropped +asleep while she was doing that. However, in the morning she had a +little time now, not having to go down to get breakfast; but the long +lessons before her were a sore temptation to cut short her Bible +reading. Nevertheless Matilda would not cut it short. It was the +child's one happy time in all the day. The rest was very heavy, except +only as the sweetness of Bible words and thoughts abode with her and +came up to her, bringing comfort and giving energy. She was trying with +all her might to buy up her opportunities. She studied her lessons as +if that were the only thing in the world to do; and in the hours of +sewing, Mrs. Candy found her a most excellent help; quick, and neat, +and skilful, and very apt to learn. Matilda was learning fast many +things; but the most precious of all were, to be silent, to be patient, +to be kind, and to do everything with an endeavour to please God in it. +Her little face grew pale with confinement and steady work; it grew +fine also with love and truth. It grew gentle with the habit of +gentleness, and sweet with the habit of forgiving. But all the while it +grew pale. She was very lonely and unspeakably sad, for such a child. +Her aunt kept her too close; gave her no liberty at all; even on +Sundays she had put a stop to the little Bible readings in the +Sunday-school, by not letting Matilda go till the regular school time. +She never went to Lilac Lane; never to Mrs. Laval's. She did go +sometimes to the parsonage; for Mr. Richmond had managed it--Matilda +did not know how; and once she had met Norton in the street and told +him how things were with her, at which he was intensely and very +gratifyingly displeased. But his displeasure could not help. The weeks +went steadily on with a slow grinding power, as it felt to Matilda. +There seemed to be less and less of her every week, to judge by her own +sensations. Less spirit and spring; less hope and desire; less strength +and pleasure. Work was grinding her down, she thought--work and +discipline. She was getting to be a little machine that her aunt +managed at pleasure; and it did not seem to herself that it was really +Matilda Englefield any longer. She was a different somebody. And that +was in a measure true. Yet the work doing was more and better than she +knew. It was not all lace-mending, and mantua-making, and learning +rules of arithmetic and French verbs. The child was growing pale, it is +true; she was also growing strong-hearted in a new way. Not in the way +of passion, which is not strong; but in the way of patience. +Self-command was making her worth twice as much as she ever had been in +her life before. Matilda constantly did what she would rather not, and +did it well. She sewed when she would have liked to do something else; +she studied when she was tired; she obeyed commands that were hateful +to her; she endured from her aunt what her child's heart regarded as +unspeakable indignities and disagreeablenesses; and she bore them, she +was forced to bear them, without a murmur, without a sign of what she +felt. More than that. Since her last recorded talk with Mr. Richmond, +Matilda had been striving to bear and to do without anger or +impatience; she had prayed a great deal about it; and now it was +getting to be a matter of course to oppose gentleness and a meek heart +to all the trials that came upon her. In proportion as this was true, +they grew easier to bear; far less hard and heavy; the sting seemed to +be going out of them. Nevertheless the struggle and the sorrow and the +confinement made the child's face grow thin and pale. Mrs. Candy said +it was the hot weather. + +July and August passed in this manner; and then September. This last +month was the hardest of all; for Mr. Richmond was away from Shadywalk, +on some business which kept him nearly all the month. + +Towards the end of it, Matilda coming back one afternoon from doing an +errand, was met suddenly near the corner by Norton Laval. + +"Matilda!" he exclaimed, seizing both her hands. "Now I have got you. +Where have you been?" + +"Nowhere." + +"What have you been doing?" + +"A great many things, Norton." + +"I should think you had! Why haven't you been to see mamma? She has +wanted to see you. Come now." + +"Oh no, I can't, Norton! I can't. I must go right home." + +"Come after you have gone home." + +"I cannot, Norton." + +"Why not?" + +"I can't get leave," Matilda whispered. + +"Leave?" said Norton. "Whose leave can't you get? That----" + +"Oh, never mind, Norton; I can't. I would come if I could." And +Matilda's eyes bore witness. + +"Who hinders?" said Norton. + +"Aunt Candy. Hush! don't tell I said so." + +"Don't tell!" said Norton, in a very incensed tone. "Why, are you +afraid of her?" + +"I mustn't stop, Norton. I must go home." + +"Are you _afraid_ of anybody, Pink?" he said, holding her fast. "Is +that why you can't get out?" + +Matilda's face changed, and her lip quivered, and she did not answer. + +"And what has made you grow so thin? What ails you?" pursued the boy, +impetuously. "You are thin and blue." + +"I don't know," said Matilda. "Aunt Candy says it is the hot weather. O +Norton, dear, don't keep me!" + +"What have you got there?" + +"Something Aunt Candy sent me to buy." + +"Why didn't she send a cart to fetch it?" said the boy, taking the +bundle out of Matilda's hand. "Where have you been after this?" + +"To Mr. Chester's." + +"Why didn't you tell Chester to send it home? He sends mamma's things. +He'd have sent it." + +"I couldn't, Norton. Aunt Candy told me to bring it myself." + +"What sort of a person is she? your aunt, who keeps you so close? She +ain't much count, is she?" + +"Oh hush, Norton!" said Matilda. "Don't, somebody will hear you." + +"Do you like her?" + +"I do not like to talk about her, Norton." + +"Is she good to you?" + +"Don't ask me, Norton, please. Now we are almost there; please let me +have the bundle. I don't want you to come to the house." + +Matilda looked so earnest, Norton gave her bundle up without another +word, and stood looking after her till she had got into the house. Then +he turned and went straight to his mother and told her the whole story; +all he knew, and all he didn't know. + +The end of which was, that the next day Mrs. Laval called to see Mrs. +Candy. + +Now this was particularly what Mrs. Candy had wished to bring about, +and did not know how. She went to the parlour with secret exultation, +and an anxious care to make the visit worth all it could be. No doubt +Mrs. Laval had become convinced by what she had seen and heard, that +Mrs. Candy and her daughter were not just like everybody else, and +concluded them to be fit persons for her acquaintance. But yet the two +confronted each other on unequal ground. Mrs. Candy was handsomely +dressed, no doubt; from her cap to her shoe, everything had cost money +enough; "why can't I throw it on like that?" was her uneasy mental +reflection the minute after she was seated. She felt as if it clung +about her like armour; while her visitor's silks and laces fell about +her as carelessly as a butterfly's wings; as if they were part of +herself indeed. And her speech, when she spoke, it had the same easy +grace--or the carelessness of power; was it that? thought Mrs. Candy. + +She had come to ask a favour, Mrs. Laval said. Mrs. Candy had a little +niece, whom her boy Norton had become very fond of. Mrs. Laval had come +to beg for the possession of this little niece as long at least as a +good long visit might be made to extend. + +"Three or four days, for instance?" said Mrs. Candy. + +"Oh no! that would be nothing. Three or four weeks." + +She is very much at her ease! thought Mrs. Candy. Shall I let her have +her will? + +Mrs. Candy was in a quandary. She did not like to refuse; she coveted +Mrs. Laval's notice; and this visit of Matilda's might be the means, +perhaps, of securing it. Then, also, she and her daughter had in +contemplation a journey to Philadelphia, and a visit there for their +own part; and it had been a question what they should do with Matilda. +To take her along would make necessary a good deal of fitting up, as a +preliminary; Matilda's wardrobe being in no readiness for such a +journey. Truth to tell, it was not very proper for a visit to Mrs. +Laval either; but Mrs. Candy reflected that it would cost much less on +the whole to leave her than to take her, and be really very much a +saving of trouble. Any loss of discipline, she remembered, could be +quickly made up; and the conclusion of the whole was that she accepted +Mrs. Laval's invitation, with no more than a few minutes of hesitation +during which all these thoughts passed through her mind. + +"Thank you," said that lady. "May I have her to-morrow?" + +"To-morrow. H'm," said Mrs. Candy. "I am afraid not to-morrow. I should +wish to make a little preparation, before the child goes to make such a +visit. She has been nowhere but at home this summer." + +"Let me beg that you will not wait for any such matter," said Mrs. +Laval. "Send her to me just as she is. I have particular reasons for +liking her to come to me immediately. If she needs anything, trust me +to supply it. Shall she come to-morrow?" + +You _do_ take a good deal for granted very easily! thought Mrs. Candy. +Then aloud-- + +"I should like to fit her up a little first The child has not been away +from home, and in mourning----" + +"Won't you trust me to see that she does not want for anything? I +assure you, I will not neglect my charge." + +"You are very kind," said Mrs. Candy; while she thought in her heart, +You are very presuming! + +"Then you will indulge me?" said Mrs. Laval, graciously. + +"If it must be so," said Mrs. Candy, doubtful. + +"Thank you!" said her visitor. "My errand is my excuse for troubling +you this morning--and so early!" + +Mrs. Candy felt a twinge. She had not thought it was early; she had not +thought about it. + +"Your place is looking beautiful," she said, as her visitor rose. "It +is the prettiest place in Shadywalk." + +"Oh, I am not in Shadywalk," said Mrs. Laval. "I am on the Millbrook. +Yes, it is pretty; but it is terribly hard to get servants. They won't +come from New York, and there are none here." + +"Not many good ones," Mrs. Candy assented. + +"None that will do for me. I am in despair. I have engaged a Swiss +family at last. I expect them to arrive very soon." + +"From New York?" + +"In New York. They are coming to me from Vevay. Father, mother, and two +daughters; and I believe a boy too. They will know nothing except +farmwork, when they come; but they do make excellent servants, and so +trustworthy." + +"Will you want so many?" + +"I will find use for them. To-morrow then. Thank you. Good morning." + +Mrs. Candy stood, looking after her visitor. She was so elegantly +dressed, and her veil was of such rich lace. She must want a goodly +number of women in her household, Mrs. Candy allowed to herself, if she +often indulged in dresses of fine muslin ruffled like that. And Mrs. +Candy sighed. One must have money for those things, she reflected; and +not a good deal of money, but a great deal. A good deal would not do. +Mrs. Candy sighed again and went in, thinking that Matilda's not going +this journey with her would save her quite a pretty penny. Matilda as +yet knew nothing of what had been in her aunt's mind respecting +Philadelphia, or Mrs. Laval either. It had all the force of a surprise +when Mrs. Candy called her and told her to pack up her clothes for +leaving home. + +"All my clothes, aunt Erminia?" + +"You will want them all. Issa and I are going on a journey that will +take us a little while--and I am going to leave you in somebody's care +here; so put out whatever you will want for a couple of weeks." + +Matilda wanted to ask with whom she was to be left; but that would come +in time. It would be somebody not her aunt, at any rate; and she went +to her room and began laying oat her clothes with fingers that trembled +with delight. Presently Mrs. Candy came in. She sat down and surveyed +Matilda's preparations. On one chair there was a neat little pile of +underclothes; on two others were similar neat little piles of frocks; +some things beside were spread over the bed. + +"Those are all the dresses you have got, eh?" she said. + +"That's all, aunt Candy. Here are my calicoes for every day, and those +are the rest; my blue spot, and my black gingham and my white. They are +all clean." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Candy. "Well--I guess you don't want to take these +calicoes; they are pretty well worn, and you haven't any work to do +now-a-days. The others won't be too nice to wear, till I come home." + +"Every day?" asked Matilda. + +"Yes, every day. There are not quite enough; but you must be careful +and not soil them, and so make them do. There is not time to make any +now, or I would get you one or two. I meant to do it." + +"When are you going, aunt Candy?" + +"_You_ are going to-morrow. So make haste, and pack up everything you +want, Matilda. I do not know whether you can do with those three +frocks?" + +"Oh yes, I will keep them clean," said the child, in her joy. + +"Well, I believe you can," said Mrs. Candy. "Now make haste, Matilda." + +It was such glad work. Matilda made haste in her eagerness, and then +pulled out things and packed them over again because it was not well +done the first time. Where was she going, she wondered? Mr. Richmond +was away from home still, or she should have heard more about it. +Meanwhile her clothes went into the little trunk her aunt had made over +to her, and her Bible was packed in a secure corner; her best boots +were wrapped up and put in, and her brush and comb. Then Matilda +remembered she would want these yet, and took them out again. She +hesitated over her book of French verbs and her arithmetic, but finally +stuck them into the trunk. It was not near full when all was done; but +Matilda's heart had not a bit of spare room in it. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The next day rose very bright and fair. Matilda had been sadly afraid +it would rain; but no such matter; the sun looked and smiled over the +world as if slyly wishing her joy on her good prospects. Matilda took +it so, and got ready for breakfast with a heart leaping with delight. +She had got no more news yet as to where she was going; but after +breakfast Mrs. Candy made her dress herself in the gingham and put on +her best boots, which made the little trunk all the emptier; and the +trunk itself was locked. Things were in this state, and Matilda mending +lace in her aunt's room; when Mrs. Candy's maid of all work put her +head in. + +"The carriage has come, mum," she said. + +"What carriage?" said Mrs. Candy. + +"Meself doesn't know, then. The bi says he's come fur to get the chilt." + +"What boy?" said Mrs. Candy, in growing astonishment. + +"Sure, an' I haven't been here long enough fur to know all the bi's of +the village. He's the bi that come wid the carriage, anyhow, an' it's +the chilt he's wanting. An' it's the iligantest carriage you ever see +in your life; and two iligant grey horses, an' a driver." + +Mother and daughter looked at each other. The lace had fallen from +Matilda's hands to the ground. + +"Did he give no name?" + +"It's just what he didn't, then. Only he jumped down, and axed was the +chilt ready. I tould him sure I didn't know, and he said would I go +see. An' what 'll I say to him, thin? for he's waitin'." + +"I'll speak to him myself," said Mrs. Candy. "Go on with your work, +Matilda." + +But in a few minutes she came back, and bade the trembling child put up +her lace and put on her hat, and go. I am afraid the leave-taking was a +short affair; for two minutes had hardly passed when Matilda stood in +the hall, and Norton caught her by both hands. + +"Norton!" she cried. + +"Yes, I've come for you. Come, Matilda, your trunk's in." + +"Where are we going?" Matilda asked, as she let herself be led and +placed in the carriage, which was a low basket phaeton. + +"Where are we going!" echoed Norton. "Where is it likely we are going, +with you and your trunk? Where did you mean to go to-day, Pink?" + +"I don't know. I didn't know anything about it. O Norton, are we going +to your house!" + +"If Tom knows the road," said Norton, coolly; "and I rather think the +ponies do, if he don't. Why, Pink! do you mean to tell me you didn't +know you were coming to us?" + +"I didn't know a word about it." + +"Nor how mamma went to ask for you?" + +"Aunt Candy didn't tell me." + +"Did she tell you you were going anywhere?" + +"Yes. She made me pack up my clothes, but that's all." + +"Didn't you ask her?" + +Matilda shook her head. "I never do ask Aunt Candy anything." + +"Why?" said Norton, curiously. + +"I don't like to--and she don't like to have me." + +"She must be a nice woman to live with," said Norton. "You'll miss her +badly, I should say. Aren't you sorry, Pink?" he asked, suddenly, +taking Matilda's chin in his hand to watch the answer she would give. +The answer, all smiling and blushing, contented Norton; and the next +instant the gray ponies swept in at the iron gate and brought them +before the house door. + +Matilda jumped out of the carriage with a feeling of being in an +impossible dream. But her boot felt the rough gravel of the roadway; +the sun was shining still and warm on the lawn and the trees; the +mid-country, rich-coloured with hues of autumn, lay glittering in +light; the blue hills were over against her sleeping in haze; the gray +ponies were trotting off round the sweep, and had left her and Norton +standing before the house. It was all real and not a dream; and she +turned to Norton who was watching her, with another smile so warm and +glad, that the boy's face grew bright to see it. And then there was +Mrs. Laval, coming out on the verandah. + +"My dear child!" she exclaimed, folding Matilda in her arms. "My dear +child! I have had hard work to get you; but here you are." + +"Mamma, she did not know she was coming," said Norton, "till I came for +her." + +"Not know it?" said Mrs. Laval, holding her back to look at her. "Why, +child, you have grown thin!" + +"It's the hot weather, Aunt Candy says." + +"And pale!" said Mrs. Laval. "Yes, you have; pale and thin. Have you +been ill?" + +"No, ma'am," said Matilda; but her eyes were watering now in very +gladness and tenderness. + +"Not ill?" said the lady. "And yet you are changed,--I do not know how; +it isn't all thinness, or paleness. What is the matter with you, dear?" + +"Nothing--only I am so glad," Matilda managed to say, as Mrs. Laval's +arms again came round her. The eyes of mother and son met expressively. + +"I don't like to see people cry for gladness," whispered the lady. +"That is being entirely too glad. Let us go and see where you are to +live while you are with me. Norton, send York up with her box." + +Matilda shook herself mentally, and went up-stairs with Mrs. Laval. +Such easy, soft-going stairs! and then the wide light corridor with its +great end window; and then Mrs. Laval went into a room which Matilda +guessed was her own, and through that passed to another, smaller, but +large enough still, where she paused. + +"You shall be here," she said; "close by me; so that you cannot feel +lonely." + +"Oh, I could not feel lonely," cried Matilda. "I have a room by myself +at home." + +"But not far away from other people, I suppose. Your sister is near +you, is she not?" + +"Oh, Maria is gone, long ago." + +"Gone? What, entirely? Not out of the village?" + +"She is in Poughkeepsie. I have not seen her in a great many weeks." + +"Was that her own wish?" + +"Oh no, ma'am; she was very sorry to go." + +"Well, you must have been very sorry too. Now, dear, here are drawers +for you; and see, here is a closet for hanging up things; and here is +your washing closet with hot and cold water; the hot is the right hand +one of these two faucets. And I hope you will be happy here, darling." + +She spoke very kindly; so kindly that Matilda did not know how to +answer. I suppose her face answered for her; for Mrs. Laval, instead of +presently leading the way down-stairs again, sat down in a chair by one +of the windows and drew Matilda into her arras. She took off her hat, +and smoothed away the hair from her forehead, and looked in her face, +with eyes that were curiously wistful and noteful of her. And Matilda's +eyes, wondering, went over the mid-country to the blue mountains, as +she thought what a new friend God had given her. + +"Are you well, dear?" said the lady's voice in her ear softly. + +"Quite well, ma'am." + +"What has changed you so since last June?" + +"I didn't know that I was changed," Matilda said, wondering again. + +"Are you happy, my love?" + +The question was put very softly, and yet Matilda started and looked +into Mrs. Laval's eyes to see what her thought was. + +"Yes," said the lady, smiling; "I asked you if you were quite happy. +How is it?" + +Matilda's eyes went back to the blue mountains. How much ought she to +tell? + +"I think--I suppose--I ought to be happy," she said at last. + +"I think you always try to do what you think you ought to do; isn't +that so?" + +"I _try_," said Matilda in a low voice. + +"How happens it, then, dear, that you do not succeed in being happy?" + +"I don't know," said Matilda. "I suppose I should, if I were quite +good." + +"If you were quite good. Have you so many things to make you happy?" + +"I think I have." + +"Tell them to me," said Mrs. Laval, pressing her cheek against +Matilda's hair in caressing fashion; "it is pleasant to talk of one's +pleasant things, and I should like to hear of yours. What are they, +love?" + +What did the lady mean? Matilda hesitated, but Mrs. Laval was quietly +waiting for her to speak. She had her arms wrapped round Matilda, and +her face rested against her hair, and so she was waiting. It was plain +that Matilda must speak. Still she waited, uncertain how to frame her +words, uncertain how they would be understood; till at last the +consciousness that she had waited a good while, drove her to speak +suddenly. + +"Why, ma'am," she said, "the first thing is, that I belong to the Lord +Jesus Christ." + +The lady paused now in her turn, and her voice when she spoke was +somewhat husky. + +"What is the next thing, dear?" + +"Then, I know that God is my Father." + +"Go on," said the lady, as Matilda was silent. + +"Well--that is it," said Matilda. "I belong to the Lord Jesus; and I +love Him, and I know He loves me; and He takes care of me, and will +take care of me; and whatever I want I ask Him for, and He hears me." + +"And does He give you whatever you ask for?" said the lady, in a tone +again changed. + +"If He don't, He will give me something better," was the answer. + +Maybe Mrs. Laval might have taken up the words from some lips. But the +child on her lap spoke them so quietly, her face was in such a sweet +rest of assurance, and one little hand rose and fell on the window-sill +with such an unconscious glad endorsement of what she said, that the +lady was mute. + +"And this makes you happy?" she said, at length. + +"Sometimes it does," answered Matilda. "I think it ought always." + +"But, my dear little creature, is there nothing else in all the world +to make you feel happy?" + +Matilda's words were not ready. + +"I don't know," she said. "Sometimes I think there isn't. They're all +away." + +The last sentence was given with an unconscious forlornness of +intonation which went to her friend's heart. She clasped Matilda close +at that, and covered her with kisses. + +"You won't feel so here?" she said. + +But the child's answer was in pantomime. For she had clung to Mrs. +Laval as the lady had clasped her; and Matilda's head nestling in her +neck and softly returning a kiss or two, gave assurance enough. + +"All away?" said Mrs. Laval. "Well, I think that too sometimes. You and +I ought to belong to each other." + +And then presently, as if she were shaking off all these serious +reflections, she bade Matilda arrange her things comfortably in closet +and drawers; and then when she liked, come down to her. So she went +out, and the man with the little trunk came in and set it in a corner. + +Matilda felt in dreamland. It was only like dreamland, to take out her +things, which a few hours ago she had packed in the dismal precincts of +her aunt's house, and place them in such delightful circumstances as +her new quarters afforded. The drawers of her dressing-table were a +marvel of beauty, being of a pale sea-green colour, with rosebuds +painted in the corners. Her little bedstead was of the same colour and +likewise adorned; and so the chairs, and a small stand which held a +glass of flowers. The floor was covered with a pretty white mat, and +light muslin curtains lined with rose, hung before the windows. The +spread on her bed was a snow white Marseilles quilt, Matilda knew that; +and the washing closet was sumptuous in luxury, with its ample towels +and its pretty cake of sweet fragrant soap. Every one of these things +Matilda took note of, as she was obeying Mrs. Laval's advice to put her +things in some order before she came down-stairs. And she was thinking, +also, what 'opportunities' she could possibly have here. There would be +nothing to try her patience or her temper; nothing disagreeable, in +fact, except the thought of going away again. How could she ever bear +_that?_ And then it occurred to Matilda that certainly she had +opportunity and occasion to give thanks; and she knelt down and did it +very heartily; concluding as she rose up, that she would leave the +question of going away till it came nearer the time. + +She went with a light heart downstairs then; how odd it was to be at +home in that house, going up and down with her hat off! She passed +through one or two rooms, and found Mrs. Laval at last in a group of +visitors, busy talking to half a dozen at once. Matilda stole out +again, wondering at the different Mrs. Laval down-stairs from the one +who had sat with her in her little room half an hour ago. On the +verandah she met Norton. He greeted her eagerly, and drew her round the +house to a shady angle where they sat down on two of the verandah +chairs. + +"Now what shall we do this afternoon?" said Norton. "What would you +like?" + +"I like everything. Oh, I like everything!" said Matilda. + +"Yes, but _this_ is nothing," said Norton. "Shall we go take a long +drive?" + +"If Mrs. Laval goes--I should like it very much." + +"If she don't go, we will," said Norton. "The roads are in good order, +and the ponies want exercise. I don't believe mamma will go, for she is +expecting a whole shipload of servants, and Francis will have to go to +the station for them." + +"Then he will want the horses, won't he?" + +"Not the ponies. He will get somebody's great farm waggon, to bring up +all their goods and things. You and I will go driving, Pink." + +"Will _you_ drive?" asked Matilda. + +"Certainly." + +Matilda thought more than ever that she was in fairyland. She sat +musing over her contentment, when Norton broke in again. + +"You are very fond of that aunt of yours, aren't you?" + +It was a point blank question. Matilda waited, and then softly said +"No." + +"Not?" said Norton. "That's funny. Hasn't she done everything in the +world to make you love her?" + +"Please, Norton," said Matilda, "I would rather not talk about her." + +"Why not, Pink?" said Norton, showing his white teeth. + +"I don't enjoy it." + +"Don't you?" said Norton. "That's funny again. I should think you +would." + +"Why?" said Matilda, curiously. + +"There's so much to say, that's one thing. And then she's so good to +you." + +"Who told you she was so good to me?" + +"I can see it in your face." + +Matilda sat silent, wondering what he meant. + +"You can always tell," said Norton. "People can't hide things. I can +see she has been doing no end of kindnesses to you all summer long. +That has made you so fond of her." + +Matilda was puzzled and sat silent, not knowing what it was best to +say; and Norton watching her stealthily saw a wistful little face, +tender and pure, and doubtful, that just provoked caresses. He dropped +what was in his hands and fairly took possession of Matilda, kissing +the pale cheeks, as if she were his own particular plaything. It was +unlike most boys, but Norton Laval was independent and manly above most +boys. Matilda was astonished. + +"Drive? to be sure we will drive," said Norton, as he let her go. "We +will drive all over creation." + +The visitors went away just at this juncture, and the children were +called in to dinner. And after dinner Norton made some of his words +good. Mrs. Laval was not going out; she gave leave to Norton to do what +he pleased, and he took Matilda to drive in the basket phaeton. + +"Norton," she said, as they were just setting forth. + +"Well?" + +"If you would just as lieve, I wish you wouldn't, please, go past Aunt +Candy's." + +"Not go past?" said Norton. "Why, Pink?" + +"If you would just as lieve, I would rather not." + +Norton nodded, and they took another way. But now this was better than +fairyland. Fairyland never knew such a drive, surely. The afternoon was +just right, as Norton had said; there was no dust, and not too much +sun; the roads were in fine order; and they bowled along as if the +ponies had had nothing to do in a great while. Now it was hardly within +the memory of Matilda to have seen the country around Shadywalk as she +saw it this afternoon. Every house had the charm of a picture; every +tree by the roadside seemed to be planted for her pleasure. The meadows +and fields of stubble and patches of ploughed land, were like pieces of +a new world to the long housed child. Norton told her to whom these +fields belonged, which increased the effect, and gave bits of family +history, as he knew it, connected with the names. These meadows +belonged to such a gentleman; his acres counted so many; were good for +so much; taken capital care of. Here were the fields and woods of +such-a-one's farm; _he_ kept cows and sent milk to New York. That house +among the trees was the homestead of one of the old county families; +the place was beautiful; Matilda would see it some day with Mrs. Laval; +that little cottage by the gate was only a lodge. Matilda desired to +know what a lodge was; and upon the explanation, and upon many more +details correlative and co-related, went into musings of her own. But +the sky was so fair and blue; the earth was so rich and sunny; the +touches of sear or yellow leaves here and there on a branch gave such +emphasis to the deep hues still lingering on the vegetation; the +phaeton wheels rolled so smoothly; that Matilda's musings did not know +very well what course to keep. + +"Well what are you thinking of?" said Norton after a silence of some +time. + +"I was thinking of Lilac Lane, just then." + +"Lilac Lane! Do you want to see it?" + +"Very much, Norton," said Matilda, gleefully; "but not this afternoon. +I haven't been there in a great, great while." + +"I should not think you would want to be ever there again. I can't see +why." + +"But then what would become of the poor people?" + +"They do not depend upon you," said Norton. "It is not _your_ look-out." + +"But--I suppose," Matilda said, slowly, "I suppose, everybody depends +upon somebody." + +"Well?" said Norton, laughing. + +"You needn't laugh, though, Norton; because, if everybody depends upon +somebody, _then_, everybody has somebody depending upon him, I suppose." + +"Who depends upon you?" + +"I don't know," said Matilda. "I wish I did." + +"Not Mrs. Old-thing there, at any rate. And how can anybody tell, Pink?" + +"I don't know," said Matilda; "and so it seems to me the best way would +be to act as if everybody depended on you; and then you would be sure +and make no mistake." + +"You would be making mistakes the whole time," said Norton. "It would +be all one grand mistake." + +"Ah, but it cannot be a mistake, Norton,"--she stopped suddenly. + +"What cannot be a mistake?" + +"It cannot be a mistake, to do anything that God has given you to do." + +"How can you tell?" said Norton. "It's all like a Chinese puzzle. How +can you tell which piece fits into which?" + +"But if every piece fitted, then the pattern would be all right," said +Matilda. + +"Yes," said Norton, laughing; "but that is what I say! How can you +tell?" + +"Mr. Richmond says, that whenever we have an opportunity to do anything +or to learn anything, the Lord means that we should use it." + +"I have a nice opportunity to turn you over on these rocks and smash +the carriage to pieces; but I don't mean to do it." + +"You know what I mean, Norton; nobody has an opportunity to do wrong. I +mean, you know, an opportunity to do anything good." + +"Well now, Pink," said Norton, drawing the reins a little, and letting +the ponies come to an easy walk,--"see what that would end in. As long +as people have got money, they have got opportunities. I suppose that +is what you mean?" + +"Yes," said Matilda. "That is part." + +"Well. We might go on and help all the people in Lilac Lane, mightn't +we? and then we could find plenty more to help somewhere else; and we +could go on, using our opportunities, till we had nothing to live upon +our selves. That is what it must come to, if you don't stop somewhere. +We should have to sell the carriages and the ponies, and keep two or +three servants instead of eight; and mamma would have to stop wearing +what she wears now; and by and by we should want help ourselves. How +would you like that? Don't you see one must stop somewhere?" + +"Yes," said Matilda. "But what puzzles me is, where ought one to stop? +Mr. Richmond says we ought to use all our opportunities." + +"If we can," said Norton. + +"But, Norton, what we _can't_, is not an opportunity." + +"That's a fact!" said Norton, laughing. "I didn't know you were so +sharp, Pink." + +"I should like to ask Mr. Richmond more about it," said Matilda. + +"Ask common sense!" said Norton. "Well, you don't want to go to Lilac +Lane to-day. Is there anywhere you do want to go?" + +"No. Oh yes, Norton. I _should_ like to stop and see if Mr. Richmond +has got home, and to ask Miss Redwood a question. If you would just as +lieve." + +"Where does Miss Redwood live?" + +"Oh, she is Mr. Richmond's housekeeper." + +"All right," said Norton. And then the gray ponies trotted merrily on, +crossed a pretty bridge over a stream, and turned their faces westward. +By and by the houses of the village began scatteringly to appear; then +the road grew into a well-built up street; the old cream-coloured +church with its deep porch hove in sight; and the ponies turned just +short of it and trotted up the lane to the parsonage door. Norton +jumped down and tied the horses, and helped Matilda out of the carriage. + +"Are you going in?" she asked. But it appeared that Norton was going +in. So he pulled the iron knocker, and presently Miss Redwood came to +the door. + +"Yes, he's home," she said, almost before they could ask her; "but he +ain't at home. I 'spect he'll take his meals now standin' or runnin' +for the next six weeks. That's the way he has to pay for rest, when he +gets it, which ain't often neither. It tires me, just to see him go; +I'll tell him you called." + +"But mayn't we come in, Miss Redwood? just for a minute?" + +"La, yes, child," said the housekeeper, making way for them; "come in, +both on ye. I didn't s'pose you was wantin' me; I've got out o' the way +of it since the minister's been away; my callers has fell off somehow. +It's odd, there don't one in twenty want to see me when I'm alone in +the house, and could have time in fact to speak to 'em. That's the way +things is in the world; there don't nothin' go together that's well +matched, 'cept folks' horses; and they 're out o' my line. Come in, and +tell me what you want to say. Where have ye come from?" + +"I have been having a delightful ride, Miss Redwood, ever so far, +farther than ever I went before." + +"Down by Mr. James's place and the mill, and round by Hillside," Norton +explained. + +The housekeeper opened her pantry and brought out a loaf of rich +gingerbread, yet warm from the oven, which she broke up and offered to +the children. + +"It's new times, I 'spect, ain't it?" + +"It's new times to have such good gingerbread," said Norton. "This is +prime." + +"Have you ever made it since I showed ye?" Miss Redwood asked Matilda. + +"No--only once--I hadn't time." + +"When a child like you says she hain't time to play, somebody has got +something that don't belong to him," said the housekeeper. + +"O Miss Redwood, I wanted to know, what about Lilac Lane?" + +"Well, what about it?" + +"Did you do as you said you would? you know, last time I asked you, you +hadn't got the things together." + +"Yes, I know," said the housekeeper. "Well, I've fixed it." + +"You did all as we said we would have it?" exclaimed Matilda, eagerly. + +"As you said _you_ would have it. 'Twarn't much of it my doing, child. +Yes; Sally Eldridge don't know herself." + +"Was she pleased?" + +"Well, 'pleased' ain't to say much. I got Sabriny Rogers to clean the +house first. They thought I was crazy, I do believe. '_Clean_ that 'ere +old place?' says she. 'Why, yes,' says I; 'don't it want cleanin'?' +'But what on airth's the use?' says she. 'Well,' says I, 'I don't know; +but we'll try.' So she went at it; and the first day she didn't do no +more than to fling her file round, and you could see a spot where it +had lighted; that's all. 'Sabriny,' says I, 'that ain't what we call +cleanin' in _my_ country; and if I pay you for cleanin' it's all I'll +do; but I'll not pay nobody for just lookin' at it.' So next time it +was a little better; and then I made her go over the missed places, and +we got it real nice by the time I had done. And then Sally looked like +somethin' that didn't belong there, and we began upon _her_. She was +wonderful taken up with seein' Sabriny and the scrubbin' brush go +round; and then she begun to cast eyes down on herself, as if she +wished it could reform her. Well, I did it all in one day. I had in the +bedstead, and put it up, and had a comfortable bed fetched and laid on +it; and I made it up with the new sheets. 'Who's goin' to sleep there?' +says Sally Eldridge, at last. 'You,' says I. '_Me?_' says she; and she +cast one o' them doubtful looks down at herself; doubtful, and kind o' +pitiful; and I knew she'd make no objection to whatever I'd please to +do with her, and she didn't. I got her into a tub o' water, and washed +her and dressed her; and while I was doin' that, the folks in the other +room had put in the table and the other things, and brought the flour +and cheese, and that; and laid a little rag carpet on the floor, and +when Sally was ready I marched her out. And she sat down and looked +round her, and looked round her; and I watched to see what was comin'. +And then she begun to cry." + +"To cry!" Matilda echoed. + +"The tears come drop, drop, down on her new calico; it fitted nice and +looked real smart; and then, the first word she said was, 'I ain't a +good woman.' 'I know you ain't,' says I; 'but you kin be.' So she +looked round and round her at everything; and then, the next word she +said was, 'The dominie kin come now.' Well! I thought that was good +enough for one day; so I give her her tea and come home to my own an +ashamed woman." + +"Why, Miss Redwood?" + +"'Cause I hadn't done it ages ago, dear, but it was left for you to +show me how." + +"And is Mrs. Eldridge really better?" + +"Has twice as much sense as ever she showed when she was in all that +muss. I am sure, come to think of it, I don't wonder. Things outside +works in, somehow. I believe, if I didn't keep my window panes clear, I +should begin to grow deceitful--or melancholy. And folks can't have +clean hands and a dirty house." + +"Thank you, Miss Redwood," said Matilda, rising. + +"Well, you ain't goin' now? The minister 'll be in directly." + +"I'll come another time," said Matilda. "I'm afraid Mrs. Laval would be +anxious." + +"La, she don't mind when her horses come home, I'll engage." + +"But she might mind when _we_ come home," said Matilda. "We have been +out a great while." + +"Out? why, you don't never mean _you_ come from Mrs. Laval's'?" + +"Yes, she does," said Norton. "We've got her." + +"Hm! Well, I just wish you'd keep her," said the housekeeper. "She's as +poor as a peascod in a drouth." + +At which similitude Norton laughed all the way home. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +It is impossible to tell how pleasant Matilda's room was to her that +night. She had a beautiful white candle burning in a painted +candlestick, and it shed light on the soft green furniture, and the +mat, and the white quilt, and the pictures on the walls, till it all +looked more fairylandish than ever; and Matilda could hardly believe +her own senses that it was real. And when the candle was covered with +its painted extinguisher, and the moonlight streamed in through the +muslin curtains, it was lovelier yet. Matilda went to the window and +gazed out. The fields and copses lay all crisp and bright in the cool +moonbeams; and over beyond lay the blue mountains, in a misty +indistinctness that was even more ensnaring than their midday beauty. +And no bell of Mrs. Candy's could sound in that fairy chamber to summon +Matilda to what she didn't like. She was almost too happy; only there +came the thought, how she would ever bear to go away again. + +That thought came in the morning too. But pleasure soon swept it away +out of sight. She had a charming hour with Mrs. Laval in the +greenhouse; after which they went up to Matilda's room; and Mrs. Laval +made some little examination into the state of that small wardrobe +which had been packed up the day before, and now lay in the drawers of +the green dressing-table. Following which, Mrs. Laval carried Matilda +off into another room where a young woman sat sewing; and her she +directed to take Matilda's measure, and fit her with a dress from a +piece of white cambrick which lay on the table. + +"It's getting pretty cool, ma'am, for this sort of thing," said the +seamstress. + +"Yes, but it will be wanted, and it is all I have got in the house just +now. I will get something warmer to-day or to-morrow, or whenever I go +out. And Belinda, you may make a little sacque to wear with this; there +is enough of that red cashmere left for it. That will do." + +Two or three days saw the white frock done and the sacque. Mrs. Laval +provided Matilda with pretty slippers and a black sash; and +furthermore, desired that she would put these things on and wear them +at once. Matilda did not know herself, in such new circumstances, but +obeyed, and went down-stairs very happy. Norton cast an approving +glance at her as she met him. + +"Come here," said he, stretching out his hand to her; "mamma's busy +with her new people, and we will have another drive presently. Come and +sit down till it is time to go." + +They went on the verandah, where it was warm and yet shady; the October +sun was so genial, and the winds were so still. + +"So they have come?" said Matilda. + +"Yes, a lot of them. Look as if they had come from the other end of +creation. Pink, I think I'll cover all that bank with bulbs." + +"What are bulbs?" + +"You don't know much, if you _are_ a brick," said Norton. "I mean +tulips, and hyacinths, and crocuses, and ranunculuses, and--well, I +don't know all, but those specially. Wouldn't it be fine?" + +Norton was a great gardener. + +"I know tulips," said Matilda. "We have a bunch of red tulips in our +garden. I think they are beautiful." + +"I do not mean red tulips. Did you never see any but those?" + +"No." + +"Then you do not know what I mean by tulips. They are everything else +except plain red; I shall not have one of those." + +"Yellow?" + +"Well perhaps I may have two or three yellow ones. They are +pretty;--clear lemon colour, you know; the colour of evening primroses." + +"Are there blue tulips too?" + +"Not that ever I heard," said Norton. "No, there are red, and yellow, +and yellow striped with red, and white striped with red, and white +blotched with carmine, and yellow edged with brown or purple, and a +thousand sorts; but never a blue." + +"That's odd, isn't it?" said Matilda. "And nobody ever heard of a blue +rose." + +"Perhaps they will, though." said Norton. "There are black roses, and +green roses. But I don't believe either there _can_ be a blue rose; it +is against nature." + +"But how many tulips will you have, Norton? you said _two or three_ +yellow ones; and there are a thousand sorts." + +"Well, I will not have all the sorts," said Norton; "but I tell you +what I will do. I will fill all that bank with them and hyacinths, I +shall want a hundred or so." + +"Do they cost much?" + +"Pretty well," said Norton; "if you get the costly sorts. They are a +dollar a-piece, some of them. But plenty are nice for fifty cents, and +thirty cents." + +"Your tulip bed will cost--a great deal, Norton!" + +"And that bed over there," Norton went on, pointing, "shall be your +bed; and I will fill it with hyacinths for you. You shall choose what +colours, Pink. They will be beautiful in May. Those shall be yours." + +"Oh, thank you! But do _they_ cost much?" + +"You always ask that," said Norton, laughing. "Yes, some of them do. I +will tell you what I will do, Pink--and then you will be easy. I will +spend twenty-five dollars on my tulip bed, and you shall spend +twenty-five dollars on your hyacinth bed; and you shall say now what +sorts you will have." + +"Twenty-five dollars!" said Matilda. "O Norton, thank you. How nice! +And I never saw a hyacinth in my life. What are they like?" + +Norton was endeavouring to tell, when Mrs. Laval came upon the +verandah. She came with business upon her lips, but stopped and her +face changed when she saw Matilda. + +"My dear child!" she said. + +"Mamma," said Norton, "isn't she a brick?" + +"A brick?" said Mrs. Laval, taking Matilda in her arms, and sitting +down with her. "A brick! this soft, sweet, fresh delight of mine!" And +as she spoke she emphasised her words with kisses. "My darling! There +is nothing rough, or harsh, or stiff about you, nor anything angular, +nor anything coarse; and he calls you a brick!" + +"I think he means something good by it, ma'am," Matilda said, laughing. + +"I don't know about the angles," said Norton. "Pink has a stiff corner +now and then that I haven't been able to break off yet." + +"Break off!" said Mrs. Laval, sitting with her arms round Matilda. And +then they all went off into a laugh together. + +"I had forgotten what I was going to say," Mrs. Laval resumed. "When +you are out, Norton, I wish you would stop and send the doctor here." + +"What's the matter?" + +"I don't know; but those poor people are in a state under the bank, and +maybe the doctor could best tell what they want." + +"Ill?" said Norton. + +"No, not ill, but dull and spiritless. I don't know what is the matter. +They are tired with their journey perhaps, and forlorn in a strange +place. Maybe they would feel better if they saw the doctor. I think +such people often do." + +And then Norton and Matilda had another ride in the basket waggon. + +On their return, Norton proposed that they should go down under the +bank and see the new-comers. Matilda was ready for anything. Under the +bank was the place for Mrs. Laval's farm-house, and dairy house, and +barn, and stables; a neat little settlement it looked like. A pretty +little herd of cows had come home to be milked, and a woman in a +strange costume, never before known at Shadywalk, had come out with a +milking pail. To her Norton marched up, and addressed her in French; +Matilda could not understand a word of it; but presently Norton went +off into the farm-house. Here, in the kitchen, they found the rest of +the family. A pleasant-faced, middle-aged woman was busy with supper; a +young pretty girl was helping her; and two men, travel-worn and bearing +the marks of poverty, sat over the fire holding their heads. Norton +entered into conversation here again. It was very amusing to Matilda, +the play of face and interchange of lively words between him and these +people, while yet she could not understand a word. Even the men lifted +up what seemed to be heavy heads to glance at the young master of the +place; and the women looked at him and spoke with unbent brows and +pleasant and pleased countenances. But the elder woman had a good deal +to say; and Norton looked rather thoughtful as he came out. + +"What is it all, Norton?" Matilda asked. "Is all right?" + +"Well, not exactly," said Norton. "Those two men are ill." + +"Hasn't the doctor come yet?" + +"Yes, and he says they want a few days of rest; but _I_ say they are +ill." + +"But the doctor must know?" + +"Perhaps," said Norton. "Perhaps he don't." + +The people under the bank were forgotten soon, in the warm luxury of +the drawing-room and the bright tea-table, and the comfort of sugared +peaches. And then Matilda and Norton played chess all the evening, +talking to Mrs. Laval at intervals. The tulip bed and the hyacinth bed +were proposed, and approved; a trip to Poughkeepsie was arranged, to +see Maria; and Norton told of Miss Redwood's doings in Lilac Lane. Mrs. +Laval was much amused. + +"And you two children have done that!" she said. + +"You gave me the money for it, ma'am," said Matilda. + +"It was yours after I had given it," said the lady. "I wonder how much +good _really_ now, all that will amount to? or whether it is just a +flash in the pan? That is the question that always comes to me." + +Matilda looked up from the chess men, wondering what she could mean. + +"It is a real good to have the house cleaned; you would never doubt +that, mamma, if you had seen it," Norton remarked. + +"And it is a real good that the poor woman is ready to have Mr. +Richmond come to see her now," said Matilda. + +"Mr. Richmond," repeated Mrs. Laval. "That's your minister. You think a +great deal of Mr. Richmond, don't you, Matilda?" + +"Everybody does," said Matilda. Mrs. Laval smiled. + +"I don't know him, you know. But about your doings in the lane--there +is no end to that sort of work. You might keep on for ever, and be no +nearer the end. That is what always discourages me. There are always +new old women to comfort, and fresh poor people to help. There is no +end." + +"But then," said Matilda. She began timidly, and stopped. + +"What then?" said Mrs. Laval, smiling. + +"Yes, just hear Pink, mamma," said Norton. + +"What then, Matilda?" said Mrs. Laval, still looking at her as at +something pleasant to the eyes. + +"I was going to say," Matilda began again, with a blush, "isn't it +meant that we _should_ 'keep on for ever'?" + +"Doing good to the poor? But then one would soon have nothing to do +good with. One must stop somewhere." + +Clearly, one must stop somewhere. A line must be found; inside or +outside of her bed of hyacinths, Matilda wondered? She did not press +her doubts, though she did not forget them; and the talk passed on to +other things. Nothing could be more delightful than that evening, she +thought. + +The next day there was charming work to be done. Norton was to take her +by the early train the morning after to go to Poughkeepsie; and Matilda +was to prepare to-day a basket of fruit, and get ready some little +presents to take to her sister. The day was swallowed up in these +delights; and the next day, the day of the journey, was one long dream +of pleasure. The ride to the station, the hour in the cars, or less +than an hour; but the variety of new sights and sensations made it seem +long; the view of a new place; the joyful visit to Maria, and the +uncommonly jolly dinner the three had together at a good restaurant, +made a time of unequalled delight. Only Maria looked gloomy, Matilda +thought; even a little discomposed at so much pleasure coming to her +little sister and missing _her_. And in this feeling, Matilda feared, +Maria lost half the good of the play-day that had come to her. However, +nothing could spoil it for the other two; and Matilda came home in the +cars towards nightfall again with a heart full of content. Only a pang +darted through her, as they were driving home under the stars, at the +thought how many days of her fortnight were already gone. Matilda did +not know it was to be a month. + +They found Mrs. Laval in perplexity. + +"I wish, Norton," she said, "that you would go and bring the doctor +here immediately. The two women are ailing now, and the men are quite +ill. I don't know what to do. York is gone to town, you know, to look +after the interest on his bonds; and Francis demanded permission this +afternoon to go and see his father who is dying. I have no one to send +for anything. I could not keep Francis, and I do not believe he would +have been kept." + +"Who's to look after the horses, mamma?" + +"I don't know. You must find some one, for a day or so. You must do +that too, to-night." + +Norton went and came back, and the evening passed as gayly as ever; +York's absence being made up by the services of the children, which, +Mrs. Laval said, were much better. Matilda made toast at the fire, and +poured out tea; and Norton managed the tea-kettle and buttered the +toast, and fetched and carried generally; and they had a merry time. +But the next morning showed a change in the social atmosphere. + +Matilda came down-stairs, as she always did, the earliest of the +family. In the hall she encountered the housemaid, not broom in hand as +usual, but with her bonnet and shawl on. + +"I'm going out this way, Miss, ye see, becaase it's shorter," she said +with a certain smothered mystery of tone. + +"What is shorter? and where are you going, Jane?" Matilda asked, struck +by something in the girl's air. + +"Och, it's no lady wouldn't expict one to stop, whin it's _that's_ the +matter." + +"When what is the matter? what do you mean? Are you going away?" + +"Faith, it's glad I be, to be off; and none too soon. I'd show 'em the +back of me head, you, dear, if it was me, goin' out at the front door. +The likes o' you isn't obleeged to stop no more nor meself." This +advice was given in the same mysterious undertone, and puzzled Matilda +exceedingly. + +"But, Jane," she said, catching the woman's shawl as she would have +left her, "you know York is away; and there is nobody to do things. +Mrs. Laval will want you." + +"She's welcome to want me," said the girl. "I didn't engage fur to +serve in an hospital, and I won't do it. Me life is as good to me, +sure, as her own, or anybody's." + +"But what shall I tell Mrs. Laval? Aren't you coming back?" + +"Niver a bit, till the sickness is gone." And with that the girl would +not be kept, but got away. + +Matilda stood bewildered. Yes, she saw the broom and duster had been +nowhere that morning. Everything was left. It was early yet. The +sunbeams came slant and cool upon the white frost outside, as Jane +opened the door; and so when the door was shut they stole in upon the +undusted hall and rooms. Matilda softly made her way to the kitchen +stairs and went down, fearing lest there might be more defaulters in +the house hold. To her relief, she found the cook moving about +preparing for some distant breakfast. But breakfast was never an early +meal. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Mattison," said the child. "I came down to see if +there was anybody here. I met Jane just now, going out." + +"I'm here yet," said Mattison. "I'll get your breakfast, before I'm +off." + +"Are you going too?" + +"Take my advice, and don't _you_ stop," said the woman. "You ain't a +fixture so you can't get away. I'd go, fust thing, if I was you." + +"Why?" said Matilda; "and what for are you all going like this? It is +using Mrs. Laval very badly, I think." + +"Folks must take care of their own flesh and blood," said the woman. +"Wages don't pay for life, do they? I'm off as soon as I've got the +breakfast. I'll do that, and give Mrs. Laval that much chance. She +ain't a bad woman." + +"Is the laundry-maid going too?" + +"O' course. She had her warning, weeks ago, and so had I mine. Mrs. +Laval sent for them furriners to fill her house with them; and now she +must make the best of 'em she can. It ain't my fault if they're no use +to her." + +Matilda went up-stairs again, pondering what was to be done. She went +softly up to Norton's door and knocked. It was not easy to rouse him; +nothing stirred; and Matilda was afraid of awaking his mother, whose +door was not far off. At last she opened Norton's door a bit and called +to him. + +"What is it?" cried Norton, as soon as the noise found a way to his +brain. "Is it you, Pink? Hold on,--I'll be there in less than no time! +What's to pay?" + +Matilda waited, till in another minute Norton presented himself, half +dressed, and with his hair all shaggy, outside his door. + +"O Norton, can you be dressed very quickly?" + +"Yes. What's the matter? I am going down to see to the horses. What do +you want, Pink?" + +"O Norton--speak softly!--everybody's going away; and I thought, maybe +you would come down and help me get things in order." + +"What _do_ you mean, Pink?" said Norton, opening his eyes at her. + +"Hush! They are all going away." + +"Who?" + +"The servants. All of them. Jane is off, and the cook will only stay +till after breakfast. The laundry woman is going too. Francis is away, +you know, and York. There is nobody but you and me in the house--to +stay. I don't know what has got into all their heads." + +"You and me!" said Norton. "The unconscionable fools! what are they +afraid of?" + +"Afraid of trouble, I suppose," said Matilda. "Afraid they will have +nursing to do. I don't know what else." + +"They ought to be put into the penitentiary!" + +"Yes; but Norton, can you come down presently and help?" + +"Help what?" + +"Me. I want to set the table for breakfast, and I don't know where +things are, you know. I am going to set the table, if you'll show me." + +"I should think you didn't know where things are! Stop--I'll be there +directly." + +Norton disappeared, but Matilda had no idea of stopping. She went +down-stairs softly again, and opened the windows, such of them as she +could manage; applied to the powers below-stairs for broom and duster, +and went at her old work of putting rooms in order. But it seemed like +play now, and here. She was almost glad the servants were going away, +to give her the chance. + +"Well, you _are_ a brick!" was Norton's remark, when he came in. "I +suppose you know what it means by this time?" + +"I wish you'd open those two windows for me, Norton; I can't undo the +fastenings. Then perhaps you'd be a brick too?" + +"I don't know," said Norton, laughing. "Well--there, Pink. What now?" + +"Show me, Norton, where the things are." + +"All at once, is rather too much," said Norton, as he and Matilda went +into York's pantry. "All for nothing, too. Nursing! nonsense! they +wouldn't have to nurse those people. It's jealousy." + +"Yes, I think they are jealous," said Matilda, "from something the cook +said." + +Norton stood and looked on admiringly, while Matilda found the +tablecloth, and arranged cups and saucers, and plates, and spoons, and +mats, and all the belongings of the breakfast-table. + +"Have you got to go to the stables, Norton?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, won't you go and get back, then? The breakfast will be ready, +you know." + +"Forgot all about that," said Norton. + +While he was gone Matilda finished her arrangements; and was watching +for him from the verandah when Mrs. Laval came behind her. + +Of course it had become necessary to tell her the state of affairs. +Mrs. Laval set down in one of the verandah chairs as soon as Matilda +began to speak, and drew the child to her arms; wrapping them all round +her, she sat thoughtfully caressing her, kissing her brow, and cheeks, +and lips, and smoothing her hair, in a sort of fond reverie; so fond, +that Matilda did not stir to interrupt her, while she was so +thoughtful, that Matilda was sure she was pondering all the while on +what was best to do. + +"Who set the table?" + +"I did, ma'am. Norton showed me where things were." + +"_Ma'am_," repeated Mrs. Laval, drawing the child closer. "Would it be +very hard to call me 'mamma'--some time--when you know me better? I +can't let you go." + +Matilda flushed and trembled; and then Norton came running up the bank. +He smiled at the sight of his mother, with Matilda in her arms and her +face resting upon Matilda's forehead. + +"What's the word down there this morning, Norton?" + +"I don't know, mamma; I've only been to see the horses. _They_ are +well." + +"To the stables, have you been? Then do run and change your dress, +Norton." + +"Yes, and breakfast's ready, Norton," Matilda called after him. She +slid off Mrs. Laval's lap and rang for it, and when it came up on the +dumb waiter, she did York's work in setting it on the table with a +particular pleasure. She began to have a curious feeling of being at +home in the house. + +"There is but one thing for me to do," said Mrs. Laval, as they sat at +breakfast. "I must go down to the city and get a new houseful of +servants, to do till these are well. But I'm in a great puzzle how to +leave you two children. There will be nobody here; and I may very +possibly be obliged to stay a night in town. It is not at all likely +that I can do what I have to do, in time to take an evening train." + +"I can take care of Pink, mamma." + +"Who will take care of you?" + +"I'll try," said Matilda. + +"What can _you_ do, to take care of _me?_" said Norton. + +"You will want something to eat," said Matilda. "I think you +will--before to-morrow night." + +"If I do, I can get it," said Norton. + +"He thinks dinner grows, like a cabbage," said Mrs. Laval; "or like a +tulip, rather. His head is full of tulips. But I cannot go to-day to +New York; I could not catch the train. I'll go down-stairs and see +these people after breakfast, and make them stay." + +But when Mrs. Laval descended half an hour later to the regions of the +kitchen, she found them deserted. Nobody was there. The fire, in a +sullen state of half life, seemed to bear witness to the fact; the +gridiron stood by the side of the hearth with bits of fish sticking to +it; the saucepan which had held the eggs was still half full of water +on the hob; the floor was unswept, the tray of eggs stood on one table, +a quantity of unwashed dishes on another, but silence everywhere +announced that the hands which should have been busy with all these +matters were no longer within reach of them. Mrs. Laval went up-stairs +again. + +"Every creature is gone," she said. "I am sure I do not know what we +are to do. _Jealousy_, Norton, did you say?" + +"Because you have sent for these Swiss people, mamma." + +"Is it possible? Well--I don't know what we are to do, as I said. We +shall have no dinner." + +"I can get the dinner," said Matilda. At which there was some laughing; +and then Mrs. Laval said she must go and see how the poor people were. +Norton was despatched to find some oysters if he could; and Matilda +quietly went down-stairs again, with her little head full. She was +there still an hour later, when Mrs. Laval came home and called for +her. Matilda came running up, with red cheeks. + +"Ah, there you are! What are you doing, Matilda? you have got your face +all flushed." + +"It's just the fire," said Matilda. + +"Fire? What are you doing, child?" + +"Nothing, much. Only trying to put things a little in order." + +"_You_," said Mrs. Laval. "Leave that, my darling. You cannot. There +will be somebody to do it by and by. But I wish I had somebody here +now, to make gruel, or porridge, or something, for those poor people. +They are without any comforts." + +Mrs. Laval looked puzzled. + +"Are they better?" Matilda asked. + +"Two of them are unwell; indeed they are all ill, more or less; but the +men are really bad, I think." + +"If I had some meal, I could make gruel," said Matilda. "I know how. I +have made it for--I have made it at home, often." + +"Could you?" said Mrs. Laval. "There must be some meal here somewhere." + +She went down to search for it. But it was found presently that she did +not know meal when she saw it; and Matilda's help was needed to decide +which barrel held the article. + +"I am a useless creature," Mrs. Laval said, as she watched Matilda +getting some meal out. "If you can manage that, darling, I will be for +ever obliged to you, and so will those poor people. It is really good +to know how to do things. Why, what have you done with all the dishes +and irons that were standing about here? You have got the place in +order, I declare! What have you done with them, dear?" + +"They are put away. Shall I put on a pot and boil some potatoes, Mrs. +Laval? I can; and there is a great piece of cold beef in the pantry." + +"Boil potatoes? no, indeed!" said Mrs. Laval. "Norton will get us some +oysters, and some bread and some cake at the baker's. No, dear, do not +touch the horrid things; keep your hands away from them. We'll fast for +a day or two, and enjoy eating all the better afterwards." + +Matilda made her gruel, nicely; and Mrs. Laval carried it herself down +to the farmhouse. She came back looking troubled. They could not touch +it, she said, after all; not one of them but the young girl; they were +really a sick house down there; and she would go to New York and get +help to-morrow. So by the early morning train she went. + +It was rather a day of amusement to the two children left alone at +home. They had a great sense of importance upon them, and some sense of +business. Matilda, at least, found a good deal for herself to do, +up-stairs and down-stairs; then she and Norton sat down on the verandah +in the soft October light, and consulted over all the details of the +tulip and hyacinth beds. + +"Fifty dollars!" said Matilda, at last. + +"Yes?" said Norton. "Well?" + +"Nothing. Only--did you ever think, Norton, how many other things one +could do with fifty dollars? I wonder if it is right to spend so much +just on a flower-bed?" + +"It isn't. It's on two flower-beds," said Norton. + +"Well, on two. It is the same thing." + +"That's a very loose way of talking," said Norton. "Two and one are not +at all the same thing. They are three." + +"O Norton! but you are twisting things all round, now. I didn't say +anything ridiculous." + +"I am not so sure of that. Pink, one would never spend money any way, +if one stopped because one could spend it some other way." + +"But it ought to be always the best way." + +"You can't tell what the best way is," said Norton. "I can't think of +anything so good to do with this fifty dollars, as to make those two +beds of bulbous roots." + +Matilda sat thinking, not convinced, but longing very much to see the +hyacinths and tulips, when a voice at the glass door behind her made +her start. It was the doctor. + +"Good morning. Is nobody at home?" + +"Nobody but us," said Norton. + +"Mrs. Laval gone out, eh?" + +"Gone to New York, sir." + +"To New York, eh? Ah! Well! Unfortunate!" + +"What shall I tell her, sir, when she comes back?" + +"Is there anybody in the house that can make beef tea?" + +"No, sir," said Norton. + +"If you will tell me how, Dr. Bird, I will have some," Matilda said. + +"You, eh? Well, you do know something more than most girls. You can +remember and follow directions, if I tell you, eh?" + +"Yes, sir, I think I can." + +"Then I'll tell you. You take a piece of juicy beef--he can see to +that--juicy beef; not a poor cut, mind, nor fat; mustn't be any fat; +and you cut it into dice; and when you have cut it all up fine, you put +it in a bottle, and cork it up. Understand?" + +"Yes, sir. But I don't know what dice are." + +"Don't, eh? well, little bits as big as the end of my finger, will do +as well as dice. Then when you have got your bottle corked, set it in a +pot of water, and put the pot on the fire, and let it boil, till the +juice of the beef comes out. Then strain that juice. That's beef tea." + +"I mustn't put any water in with the beef, sir?--in the bottle?" + +"Not a drop. Keep the water all in the pot." + +"Who is to have the beef tea, doctor, when it is made?" + +"Those two Frenchmen at the farmhouse. I told the women. They ought to +have it now. And a nurse, too; the women are ill themselves." + +Dr. Bird went his way, and Matilda persuaded Norton to go at once in +quest of some juicy beef. It would be a difficult job, he said, for the +butchers' shops were shut up; but he would go and try. While he was +gone Matilda amused herself with getting a dinner for him and herself +down in the kitchen; and there, when he came back, the two went, to eat +their dinner and to set the beef tea a-going. They had rather a jolly +time of it, to tell the truth; and were so very social, and discussed +so many things besides their beef and bread, that the beef tea was +ready to strain by the time Matilda had cleared the things away. And +then she and Norton went down to the farmhouse to carry it. + +They could get nobody to come to the door, so they opened it for +themselves. It was a sad house to see. In two rooms all the family were +gathered; the men lying on beds in the inner room, one woman on the +floor of the other, and one on a cot. All ill. The girl alone held her +head up, and she complained it was hard to do even that. Matilda and +Norton went from one room to another. The men lay like logs, stupid +with fever; one of the women was light-headed; not any of them would +touch what Matilda had brought. The poor girl who was still on her feet +was crying. There was no fire, no friend, no comfort or help of any +sort. Nor ton and his little companion made the rounds helplessly, and +then went out to consult together. + +"Norton, they are dreadfully ill," whispered Matilda. "I know they are." + +"I guess you are right," said Norton. "But you and I can't do anything." + +"I can," said Matilda. "I can give them water, and I can give them beef +tea. And you, Norton, I will tell you what you can do. Go for Miss +Redwood." + +"Miss Redwood? who's she?" + +"Don't you remember? Mr. Richmond's housekeeper. She'll come, I know." + +"She'll be very good if she does," said Norton. "But I'll tell her you +said so. Do you think she would come?" + +"I'm certain of it." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +Norton made his way to the brown door of the parsonage, and knocked; +but the person that opened it was the minister himself. Norton was a +little confused now, remembering what his errand meant there. + +"Norton Laval, isn't it?" said Mr. Richmond. "You are very welcome, +Norton, at my house. Will you come in?" + +"No, sir. If you please----" + +"What is it? Something you would rather say to me here?" + +"No, sir. I was coming----" + +"To see me, I hope?" + +"No, sir," said Norton, growing desperate and colouring, which he was +very unapt to do. "If you please, Mr. Richmond, I was sent to speak +to--I forget what her name is--the woman who lives here." + +"Miss Redwood?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Who sent you?" + +"Matilda Englefield." + +"Did she? Pray why did not Matilda come with you?" + +"She could not, sir; she was very busy. She asked me to come." + +"You can see Miss Redwood," said Mr. Richmond, smiling. "I believe she +is always ready to receive visitors; at least I never saw a time when +she was not. You have only to walk right in and knock at her door +there. When are you coming to see _me_, Norton? You and I ought to be +better friends." + +"I don't know, sir," said Norton. "I would not intrude." + +"Ask your friend Matilda if I do not like such intrusions. I shall have +to invite you specially, I see. Well, go in and find Miss Redwood. I +will not detain you now." + +Norton went in, glad to be released, for he did not exactly want to +tell his errand to the minister, knocked at the kitchen door and was +bade to enter. It was full, the kitchen was, of the sweet smell of +baking bread; and Miss Redwood was busily peering into her stove oven. + +"Who's there?" she asked, too much engaged in turning her loaves to +give her eyes to anything else, even a visitor. Norton told his name, +and waited till the oven doors shut to with a clang; and then Miss +Redwood, very pink in the face, rose up to look at him. + +"I've seen you before," was her remark. + +"Yes. I brought Matilda Englefield here one day," Norton answered. + +"H'm. I thought she brought you. What brings you now?" + +"Matilda wanted me to come with a message to you." + +"Well, you can sit down and tell it, if you're a mind to. Why didn't +the child come herself? that's the first idee that comes to me." + +"She is busy trying to nurse some sick folks, and they are more than +she can manage, and she wants your help. At least, she sent me to ask +you if you wouldn't come." + +"Who's ill?" + +"Some people just come from Switzerland to be my mother's servants." + +"Switzerland," repeated Miss Redwood. "I have heard o' Switzerland, +more than once in my life. I should like to know whereabouts it is. I +never knew any one yet that could tell me." + +"Mr. Richmond knows, I suppose," said Norton. + +"I suppose he knows Greek," said Miss Redwood, "and ever so many other +queer tongues too, I've no doubt; but I should like to see myself +askin' him to learn me. No, I mean, as I never knew nobody that I'd +ask. La! there's folks enough that knows. Only I never had no chances +for them things." + +"I could shew you where Switzerland is, if you had a map," said Norton. + +"I guess I know as much as that myself," said the housekeeper quietly, +opening the stove door again for a peep at the oven. "But what does +_that_ tell me? I see a little spot o' paper painted green, and a big +spot along side of it painted some other colour; and the map is all +spots; and somebody tells me that little green spot is Switzerland. And +I should like to know, how much wiser am I for that? That's paper and +green paint; but what I want to know is, where is the _place_." + +"It's hard to tell," said Norton, so much amused that he forgot his +commission. + +"Well, these folks come from Switzerland, you say. How did they come?" + +"They came in a ship--part of the way." + +"How fur in a ship?" + +"Three thousand miles." + +"Three thousand," repeated Miss Red wood. "When you get up there, I +don't know what miles mean, no more than if you spoke another language. +I understand a hundred miles. It's nigh that to New York." + +"They came that hundred miles, over and above," said Norton. + +"Well, how long now, does it take a ship to go that fur? Three thousand +miles." + +"It depends on how fast the wind blows." + +"The wind goes awful fast sometimes," said Miss Redwood. "When it goes +at that rate as will carry a chimney off a house, and pick up a tree by +the roots as I would a baby under my arm, seems to me a ship would +travel at a powerful speed." + +"It would certainly, if there was nothing to hinder," said Norton; "but +at those times, you see, the wind picks up the water, and sends such +huge waves rolling about that it is not very safe to be where they can +give you a slap. Ships don't get along best at such times." + +"Well, I'm thankful I'm not a sailor," said Miss Redwood. "I'd rather +stay home and know less. How many o' these folks o' yourn is ill?" + +"All of them, pretty much," said Norton. "Two men and two women." + +"Fever nagur?" + +"No, 'tisn't that. I don't know what it is. The doctor is attending +them. He ordered beef tea to-day; and Matilda made some; but they seem +too ill to take it now they've got it." + +Miss Redwood dropped her towel, with which she was just going to open +the oven again, and stood upright. + +"Beef tea?" she echoed. "How long have these folks been ill?" + +"Ever since they came ashore almost. They came straight up here, and +began to be ill immediately. That was a few days ago; not a week." + +"Beef tea!" said Miss Redwood again. "And just come to shore. How do +they look? Did you see them?" + +"Yes, I saw them," said Norton. "I went with Matilda when she took the +beef tea to them. How did they look? I can't tell; they looked bad. The +men were mahogany colour, and one of the women was out of her head, I +think." + +"And you two children going to see them!" exclaimed Miss Redwood, in a +tone that savoured of strong disapprobation, not to say dismay. + +"Because there was no one else," said Norton. "Mamma has gone to New +York to get more people; for all ours went off when they knew of the +sickness at the farmhouse." + +"Why?" said Miss Redwood, sharply. + +"I don't know. I suppose they were jealous of these strangers." + +"H'm," said Miss Redwood, beginning now to take her bread out of the +oven with a very hurried hand; "there's jealousy enough in the world, +no doubt, and unreason enough; but it don't usually come like an +epidemic neither. You go home, and tell Matilda I'm a comin' as fast as +ever I kin get my chores done and my hood and shawl on. And you tell +her--will she do what you tell her?" + +"I don't know," said Norton. "What is it?" + +"_Where_ is it these folks are ill? Not to your house?" + +"Oh no. Down at the farmhouse--you know our farmhouse--under the bank." + +"Did you leave the child there?" + +"She was there when I came away." + +"Well, you run home as fast as your legs can carry you, and fetch her +out of that. Bring her home, and don't you nor she go down there again. +Maybe it's no harm, but it's safe to do as I tell you. Now go, and I'll +come. Don't let the grass grow under your feet." + +Norton was not used to be ordered about quite so decidedly; it struck +him as an amusing variety in his life. However he divined that Miss +Redwood might have some deep reason for being so energetic, and he was +not slow in getting back to Briery Bank; so his mother's place was +called. The house was shut up, as he and Matilda had left it, and he +went on down to the home of the sick people. There he found Matilda as +he had left her. Norton only put his head into the sick-room and called +her out. + +"Miss Redwood is coming," he said. + +"I'm so glad! I knew she would," said Matilda. "She will know what to +do. They all seem stupid, Norton, except the woman who is out of her +head." + +"Yes, she will know what to do," said Norton; "and you had better come +away now. You don't." + +"I can do something, though," said Matilda. "I can give the medicine +and the beef tea. Why, there was nobody even to give the medicine, +Norton. I found it here with the doctor's directions; and nobody had +taken it till I came, not one of these poor people. But oh, the rooms +are so disagreeable with so many invalids in them! you can't think." + +"I can, for I've been in them," said Norton. "And once is enough. They +have got the medicine now, Pink; you needn't stay any longer." + +"Oh yes, but I must. I must till Miss Redwood comes. The medicine will +have to be taken again in a little while." + +"It can wait till she gets here. You come away, Pink. Miss Redwood said +you should." + +"She didn't know what there was for me to do, or she wouldn't have said +it. I can't go, Norton." + +"But you _must_, Pink. She said so. Suppose these people should be ill +with something dreadful? you can't tell." + +"I am sure they would want a nurse then." + +"But _you_ might get ill, you know." + +"Well, Norton, I'm not afraid." + +"You might get sick, all the same, if you're _not_ afraid," said +Norton, impatiently. "Come, Pink, you must come." + +"I can't, Norton. I must go in and give them some more beef tea now, in +a minute. They can't take but ever so little at a time. It would be +very wrong to leave them as they are." + +"You might get ill, and die," said Norton. + +"Well, Norton," said Matilda, slowly, "I don't think I am afraid of +that. I belong to Jesus. He will take care of me." + +"I don't think you know what you are talking of!" said Norton, very +impatient, and very much at a loss how to manage Matilda. + +"Oh yes, I do!" she said, smiling. "Now I must go in. _You_ needn't +come, for there wouldn't be anything for you to do." + +Matilda disappeared; and Norton, wishing very much that he could lay +hold of her and carry her away by force, did not, however, feel that it +would exactly do. He sat down on the door stone of the house, he would +not go further, and waited. There was a delicious calm sunlight over +all the world that October afternoon; it puzzled Norton how there could +be a sick-house anywhere under such a sky. He heard the ponies stamping +their idle hoofs against the barn floor; they were spoiling for +exercise; why were he and Matilda not out driving, instead of having +this state of things? Then some gaily disposed crows went flying +overhead, calling a cheery reminder to each other as they went along; +_they_ were having a good time. Norton chafed against the barriers that +hindered him. Suddenly a swift footstep came over the grass, and Mr. +Richmond stood before him. + +"Is this the house?" he asked. "Is Matilda here?" + +"Yes, sir; and I've tried to get her out. And I can't." + +Mr. Richmond went in without more words. A moment after Matilda opened +the door he had shut. + +"Well! will you go now?" said Norton. + +"I must. Mr. Richmond will not let me stay." + +Mr. Richmond himself came again to the door. + +"Norton," said he, "I am going to ask you to take Matilda to the +parsonage. The best thing will be for you and her to make your home +there, until Mrs. Laval gives further orders. You will both be heartily +welcome. Will you take her there and take care of her until I come +home?" + +"Thank you, sir," said Norton, "it is not necessary----" + +"You must let my word go for that," said the minister, smiling. "If not +necessary, I think it prudent. I wish it; and I invite both of you. It +would be treating me very ill to refuse me, and I am sure you will not +do that. I trust you to take care of Matilda until I get home. The +house will be quite alone when Miss Redwood leaves it. Is anybody in +the house on the bank?" + +"No, sir; nobody." + +"I will lock it up, then, and bring the key. Go in and put up anything +you will want for a day or two, and I will send it after you." + +With a nod and a smile at them Mr. Richmond went in again. The two +children looked at each other, and then began to mount the bank. + +"You do what Mr. Richmond tells you," remarked Norton. + +"Of course," said Matilda. "So do you." + +"It wouldn't be civil to do anything else," said Norton. "But isn't it +jolly, that you and I should go to make a visit at the parsonage! What +is a parsonage like? It isn't like other houses, I suppose." + +"Why, yes, it is," said Matilda; "just like; only a minister lives in +it." + +"That makes the difference," said Norton. "Don't you feel as if you +were in church all the time? I shall, I know." + +"Why, no, Norton! what an idea. Mr. Richmond's house is not like a +church." + +"Isn't he like a minister?" + +"Why, yes, of course!" said Matilda, with some indignation. "He isn't +like _your_ minister, Norton." + +"Why?" said Norton, laughing. + +"I don't know. He isn't stiff. He don't dress unlike other people. He +is just as pleasant as anybody else can be; and a _great_ deal +pleasanter, I think." + +"What you call good people, generally are stiff," said Norton. + +"Oh no, Norton, they are not. What makes you think so?" + +"You were very stiff just now," said Norton. + +"Oh, do you mean _that_ sort of stiffness? But, Norton, I thought there +was something I could do there, you know, and I didn't think I ought to +come away." + +Getting to the top of the bank broke off the discussion. Matilda and +Norton each had things to get together to go to the parsonage; and it +was necessary to change their dress. The sun was well on his westing +way when they left the iron gate of Briery Bank, bag in hand; and in +the little lane of the parsonage the elm trees cast broad and long +shadows. As they came up on the piazza, Miss Redwood opened the door. +Her hood and shawl were on, and she had a basket in her hand. She +stopped suddenly. + +"What is it now?" she said. "What's wanting?" + +"Nothing," said Matilda; "only Mr. Richmond has sent us here." + +"He has!" said the housekeeper. "You've come to stop?" + +"Mr. Richmond says so. He wished it." + +"Well, what'll you do?" said Miss Redwood, coming to a sort of pause. +"There ain't a living soul in the house, and there won't be, 'cept the +minister himself; and how he'll get along I don't know. I can't be in +two places at once." + +"Can't I get the tea, Miss Redwood?" + +"La, I don't know but what you kin. Come along in, and let me tell you. +There's bread all baked, this afternoon--it ain't cold yet--enough to +last a siege; it's in that pantry, Matilda, in the bread box. You know +there's all the cups; and saucers; and tea things, for you've seen me +get 'em out; and the tea canister, and the sugar. And the milk is down +cellar, in a pan, and there's cream onto it. Can you skim it off and +keep it cream yet, for the minister's tea?" + +"Oh yes; I can do that, Miss Redwood." + +"Then you'll get along for to-night; and I'll try and be round in the +morning, if I kin. But you'll want sheets--There's the bed in the spare +room off the hall; that's all ready for one of ye; I got it fixed up +Saturday for somebody that never come; 'tain't everybody as sticks to +his word like the minister. La, I get weary with the folks that are +like Job's brooks; they say and don't do; and when you expect 'em they +ain't there. I was put out, o' Saturday, when I found out that was how +it was with this man; but there's good in everything, if you can keep +your patience; now the room's ready, and it wouldn't ha' been ready; +for I had a lot o' apples there dryin', and a board full o' fresh +turnpikes was on the bed; _they_ was gettin' finished; and I had a +quilt in a corner that I had sot up on the sticks and it was a'most +done quiltin'; and all them things I had to fly round and get rid of; +and I've no time for anything now. So, dear, that room'll do for one of +ye, and the other--you can put the sheets on the bed, can't ye? for the +minister'll be playin' nurse till I come, and I wish I had Jack's +seven-mile boots to get to Briery Bank with." + +While this talk was going on, Miss Redwood had brought Matilda +up-stairs, and was taking out linen and coverlets from a press in one +of the rooms. Matilda said she could manage everything, with Norton's +help. + +"Then I'll go," said Miss Redwood. "But if I shouldn't be able fur to +run away in the morning and see to the breakfast!----" + +She stopped, thinking. + +"Dear Miss Redwood, won't you trust me to do it? I think I can." + +"What sort of a breakfast will it be?" said the housekeeper, +meditatively. + +"I'll _try_ to have it right." + +"La, yes, if it depended on your tryin'," said the housekeeper; "your +will is as good as gold; but _will_ won't cook a beefsteak." + +"I'll try," said Matilda again. + +"Well," said Miss Redwood, "we must walk till we get out o' the woods, +and then we'll run. The minister ain't accustomed to have his steak any +way, but as he likes it; maybe it'll do him no harm. Everything's down +cellar, Matilda, 'cept the things in the kitchen pantry; and you'll +find out which is which. And I'll go." + +So she did. And as the door closed after her, the two children in the +hall looked at each other. + +"Nobody in the house?" said Norton. + +"Nobody but ourselves." + +"That's jolly," said Norton. "Pink, I have got that catalogue in my +pocket; let us sit down somewhere and make out a list of those +hyacinths." + +"O Norton!--Yes, I will in a little while. I must go get the table +ready for tea; and I had better do it now before Mr. Richmond comes +home." + +"You and I seem to have a great deal of getting tea to do," said +Norton, as he followed Matilda into the little dining-room. "What do +you want _me_ to do?" + +"O Norton! if you would just look and see if the tea-kettle is on, and +if not, put it on. Will you?" + +"Where, Pink?" + +"Just open that door. There is the kitchen." + +"I remember," said Norton. "No, the kettle isn't on. Here goes." + +There was a little busy, pleasant bustle, for a time; and then Matilda, +with Norton's help, had got everything in order for the evening meal. +The sun was near setting, and threw bright lines of light in at the two +little west windows, filling the small dining-room with pure gold; then +it went down, and the gold was gone, and only in the low western sky +the brightness remained. + +"It's time for the minister to be at home," Norton said. + +"He has a great deal to do," Matilda answered. + +"What?" said Norton. "I always thought the parsons had an easy time of +it. I could write two themes a week, I think, if I tried hard." + +"Norton!" Matilda exclaimed, "it isn't that; and Mr. Richmond doesn't +write themes, as you call it, to begin with." + +"That must be harder then," said Norton; "to stand up and speak to +people without anything to say." + +"Why he doesn't!" said Matilda. "Mr. Richmond always has plenty to say. +I suppose he could talk all day, if he didn't get tired." + +"I mean preaching," said Norton. + +"Yes, and I mean preaching," said Matilda. + +"Where is it to come from?" said the boy, pursing his lips ready for a +whistle. + +"Why, out of his head, and out of his heart," said Matilda. "Where +should it come from?" + +"I say, Pink," said Norton, "it's very funny for me to be here. I don't +think I can stand it long." + +"Stand what?" + +"This. Being at the parsonage and getting talked to. I suppose I shall." + +"Norton," said Matilda, confidently, "you'll like it. It's just nice." + +"I don't know about that," said Norton. "It feels queer. I believe I am +afraid." + +Matilda laughed at his very un-fear-like face; and then the front door +opened and shut. Mr. Richmond had come. + +It was a jolly tea they had, Norton confessed afterwards. Mr. Richmond +went rummaging among Miss Redwood's stores and brought out a jar of +sweetmeats; in honour, he said, of his guests. The sweetmeats were +good, and so was Miss Redwood's fresh bread. And there was indeed +plenty of talk at the table; but it was not in the least like +preaching. From the sick Swiss, and their voyage, Mr. Richmond and +Norton somehow got upon the subject of navigation and commerce, with +ships ancient and modern, and a little touch here and there showing how +much these things have had to do with the history of the world and the +life of nations. Mr. Richmond and Norton talked and talked; and Matilda +listened, and made the tea, and enjoyed it all very much, seeing too +what a good time Norton was having. + +After tea, they removed into the study. Mr. Richmond asked them to come +there, saying he was going to play this evening. He built up a +beautiful fire, and gave Norton a book to look at; while he himself sat +for awhile quite silent, looking into the blaze, and only moving now +and then to take care that it was kept up. So Matilda found the two, +when she had put the tea things away and followed them to the study. +The red curtains were drawn across the windows; the red light of the +fire leaped and shone all through the room; in the glow of it Norton +sat brooding over his book, and before it Mr. Richmond sat thinking. +But he held out his hand as Matilda came in, and asked if his little +housekeeper had got all things straight. Matilda came to his +outstretched hand, which drew her to his side; and the room was still +again. Matilda stood motionless. By and by Norton glanced up at her +from his book, and covertly smiled. It started Matilda's thoughts. + +"Are you not going to be busy, Mr. Richmond?" she ventured, gently. + +"Not doing anything at all," said Mr. Richmond, rousing himself. "I +have been busy all day, Matilda. I am going to do nothing to-night. +What is it?" + +"Will it be doing anything to talk to Norton and me?" + +"I can't say," Mr. Richmond replied, laughing a little. "Perhaps you +will find me work to do, but I'll risk it. What do you want to talk +about?" + +"There was a question--Norton and I could not tell what the answer +ought to be. I believe he thought one way, and I thought another." + +"What was the question?" said Mr. Richmond; while Norton's face looked +up from his book, bright with the same query. + +"We were talking--it was about opportunities, you know, Mr. Richmond; +the opportunities that having money gives people; and we couldn't tell, +Norton and I, how far one ought to go. Norton said people must stop +somewhere; and I suppose they must. Where ought they to stop?" + +Matilda's face looked very earnest. Norton's, comical. + +"Where ought they to stop in giving money, you mean?" + +"Yes, sir. For doing good, you know, and making other people +comfortable." + +"It is rather a large question. Were you afraid of giving too much, or +of giving too little?" + +"I think one of us was afraid of giving too much, and the other of +giving too little." + +"The best way is to go to the Bible and see what that says. May I +trouble one of you to open it at the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, +and read what you find in the seventh verse of the ninth chapter?" + +Norton dropped his book and sprang to do the service asked for. He read +the words-- + +"'Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; +not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God loveth a cheerful giver.'" + +Norton read, and looked up, as much as to say, What now? how does this +help? + +"I don't see how that tells, Mr. Richmond," said Matilda. + +"It tells one or two things. You are to give out of your heart; not +because somebody else asks you, or some other body says you ought. +_That_ would not please God. You are to do what you _like_ to do; much +or little, as you feel." + +"But ought it to be much or little?" + +"As you feel. As your heart says." + +"But then, Mr. Richmond, will the Lord be just as well pleased whether +it is much or little?" + +"Norton will please read the sixth verse." + +"'But this I say, He which soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly; +and he which soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully.'" + +"But that don't tell either," said Norton, when he had read. + +"I think it does," said Matilda, slowly. "It tells one thing. Mr. +Richmond, it doesn't tell _how much_ one ought to like to give. That +was the very question between Norton and me; and we could not settle +it." + +"Don't you see, Matilda, that everybody's heart would give its own +answer to that question?" + +"But, Mr. Richmond, surely there is a right and a wrong answer?" + +"I am afraid a good many wrong answers," said Mr. Richmond. + +Norton looked as if he would like to say something, but modestly kept +back before the minister. Mr. Richmond caught the look. + +"Speak out, Norton," said he, smiling. "Truth will always bear to be +looked at." + +"I don't know much about it, sir," said Norton. "Only it seems to me, +that if one begins to help other people all one can, one will soon want +helping himself." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Richmond. "Read the next verse now." + +"The next to the seventh, sir?--'And God is able to make all grace +abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all +things, may abound to every good work.'" + +"That does not sound as if Matilda were in any danger of growing poor +through helping Mrs. Eldridge, does it?" + +"But, sir!" said Norton, "the more one gives away, the less one has for +one's self?" + +"It does not always work so," said Mr. Richmond. "The Bible says, +'There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth.'" + +Norton did not know exactly how to fight for his opinions, and so was +silent, like a well-bred boy as he was; but Matilda's feeling was +different. + +"I understand," she said; "at least I think I do; but, Mr. Richmond, +this does not get Norton and me out of our puzzle. You don't mean that +people ought to keep nothing for themselves?" + +"'Every man according as he purposeth in his heart,'" Mr. Richmond +repeated. "That is the order. There have been people, Matilda, who have +given their all for the sake of the Lord Jesus, and kept, as you say, +nothing for themselves. It was in their heart. I cannot blame them, for +one. He did not." + +"But ought every one to do so?" + +"Matilda, I dare not set any rule but the rule my Master has set. _He_ +said, 'He that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my +disciple.'" + +"People don't do that, sir," said Norton, eagerly. + +"_Ought_ they to do it, sir?" said Matilda, timidly. "To give away all +they have got?" + +"He did not say, 'give away,' but 'forsake.' The word means literally +'to take leave of.' They give up thinking that what they have is their +own; and from that time stand ready to give it away entirely, if the +Master says so." + +"Is that religion, sir?" Norton asked. + +"But, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said, in another tone, "that is the very +thing. How are they to know when He does tell them to give these things +away?" + +"We are coming to it now," said Mr. Richmond. "You want to know what +religion is, Norton. Please turn to the fifth chapter of that same +epistle to the Corinthians, and read aloud the--let me see--I think it +is the fourteenth and fifteenth verses." + +Norton obeyed. + +"'For the love of Christ constraineth us; because we thus judge, that +if one died for all, then were all dead: and that He died for all, that +they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto +Him which died for them and rose again.'" + +"That is your answer," said Mr. Richmond; "that is religion. Now for +Matilda's answer--Norton, turn to the Epistle to the Colossians, and +the third chapter, and read the seventeenth verse." + +"'And whatsoever ye do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord +Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father, by Him.'" + +"There is your rule, Matilda. It is carrying out the former words. You +have only to apply that to everything you do." + +"What is doing all _in the name_ of the Lord?" Norton asked. + +"Not in your own name; not as though you were your own master; not as +seeking first your own pleasure or advancement; not as using your own +things. Correlatively, for the Lord; for His pleasure, for His service, +as belonging to Him." + +"'In word or deed,'" said Matilda. "That means giving and everything." + +"But then, in religion one would never be free," said Norton. + +"How, never be free?" + +"Why, one must act as if one never be longed to one's self." + +"We don't," said Mr. Richmond. "We are _not_ our own; we are bought +with a price. And we never were free till now." + +"But, if I go to buy a coat----" said Norton; and he stopped. + +"Yes, if you go to buy a coat, you will remember that you and the coat +are the Lord's together; and you will buy that coat which you think is +the one He would like you to wear, and in which you can best work for +Him; and not use His money for any other." + +Norton was silent, not because he had no thoughts to speak. Matilda was +silent, but with a very different face. It was serious, sweet, +meditative, and content. + +"I see how it is, Mr. Richmond," she said, at last, looking up to his +face. "Thank you, sir." + +"It is very nice to have people apply sermons for themselves, Matilda," +said the minister. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Miss Redwood did not come back the next morning to get breakfast. No +sign of her. Mr. Richmond and Matilda managed it, between them. Norton, +I am afraid, was not up till Matilda called him, and that was when the +coffee was nearly ready. + +Matilda learned how to get breakfast at the parsonage, and Norton +learned to be up and help her; for they made a long stay at the old +brown house. Mrs. Laval's Swiss servants were all down with ship fever; +and the two children were forbidden to come even near the house. Mrs. +Laval herself staid at home and did what she could for the sufferers; +but she and Miss Redwood kept house alone together. Not a servant would +be hired to come within reach of the dreadful contagion; and not a +friend thought it was any use to go there just then to see anybody. +Mrs. Laval and Miss Redwood had it all to themselves, with no one to +look at besides but Mr. Richmond and the doctor. Mr. Richmond came to +them constantly. + +The flow of human sympathy went all to the house with the brown door. +It was remarkable how many friends were eager to know how the children +got on; and how many more were anxious to be allowed to come in to help +Matilda. + +"What shall I do, Mr. Richmond?" she would say. "There have been three +this morning." + +"Who were they, Tilly?" + +"Mrs. Barth, and Miss Van Dyke, and Miss Spenser--oh, there were +four!--and Ailie Swan." + +"Do you want Ailie to help you?" + +"No, Mr. Richmond; I don't want anybody but Norton." + +"Well, I don't. You may tell them that we do not want anybody, Matilda. +I have seen Mrs. Pottenburg; she will come in to scrub floors and do +the hard work." + +So for several weeks the two children and the minister kept house +together; in a way highly enjoyed by Matilda, and I think by Mr. +Richmond too. Even Norton found it oddly pleasant, and got very fond of +Mr. Richmond, who, he declared privately to Matilda, was a brick of the +right sort. All the while the poor Swiss people at Mrs. Laval's +farmhouse were struggling for life, and their two nurses led a weary, +lonely existence. Norton sometimes wished he and Matilda could get at +the gray ponies and have a good drive; but Matilda did not care about +it. She would rather not be seen out of doors. As the weeks went on, +she was greatly afraid that her aunt would come back and reclaim her. + +And Mrs. Candy did come back; and meeting Mr. Richmond a day or two +after her return, she desired that he would send Matilda home to her. +She had just learned where she was, she said. + +"You know that Matilda has been exposed to ship fever?" said Mr. +Richmond. + +"No. I heard she was at your house." + +"But not until she had been in the house with the fever patients, and +nursing them, before any one knew what was the matter. Had she not +better stay where she is, at least until we can be certain that she has +got no harm?" + +"Well, perhaps," said Mrs. Candy, looking confused; "it is very +perplexing; I cannot expose my daughter----" + +"She will stay where she is," said Mr. Richmond, "for the present. Good +morning." + +He never told Matilda of this encounter. And before another week had +gone, Mrs. Candy and Clarissa had again left Shadywalk. + +So week after week went by peacefully. The beautiful days of October +were all past; November winds came, and the trees were bare, and the +frosts at night began to be severe. The sick people were getting +better, and terrible qualms of fear and sorrow now and then swept over +Matilda's heart. Her aunt would surely want her back now, and she +should never finish her visit at Mrs. Laval's! + +One day she was in Mr. Richmond's study, all alone, thinking so. There +was a flurry of snow in the air, the first snow of the season, falling +thickly on the grass, and eddying in windy circles through the pine +trees. Matilda had knelt in a chair at the window to watch it, with +that spasm of fear at her heart. Now it is winter! she thought. Aunt +Candy _must_ be home soon. Yet the whirling great flakes of snow were +so lovely, that in a few minutes they half distracted her from her fear. + +It came back again when she saw Mr. Richmond appear from the end of the +church porch and make his way across the snow towards the parsonage +door. Matilda watched him lovingly; then was possessed with a sudden +notion that he was bringing her news. He walks as if he had something +to say, she said to herself; and he will come in and say it. + +He came in and warmed his hands at the fire, without sitting down; +certainly there _was_ an air of business about him, as she had thought. +Matilda stood watching and waiting; that fear at her heart. + +"Where's Norton?" said Mr. Richmond. + +"He went out a good while ago. I don't know, sir." + +"I suppose you have expected to hear of your aunt's coming home, before +now, Matilda?" + +"Yes, sir," said the child. He watched her furtively. No curiosity, no +question; her face settled rather into a non-expectant state, as if all +were fixed for her for ever--a look Mr. Richmond did not like to see. + +"She has come home." + +He saw the colour flit on Matilda's cheek; her mouth had quitted its +lines of peace and gaiety and become firm; she said nothing. + +"You are not glad to hear of it, Matilda." + +"No, sir." + +"It is no pleasure to tell you of it; but it is necessary. How do you +feel towards her now?" + +"Mr. Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I think I don't hate her any +more." + +"But you would like to be excused from living with her?" + +Matilda did not reply; no answer was necessary to so self-evident a +proposition; the child seemed to be gathering her forces, somehow, +mentally. + +"Take courage," said her friend. "I have concluded that you never shall +live with her any more. That is at an end." + +He saw the lightning flash of delight come into Matilda's eyes; a +streak of red showed itself on her cheek; but she was breathless, +waiting for more words to make her understand how this could be, or +that she had heard right. + +"It's true," said Mr. Richmond. + +"But--how then?" said Matilda. + +"Mrs. Laval wants you." + +"Wants me?" Matilda repeated, anxiously. + +"She wants you, to keep you for her own child. She lost a little +daughter once. She wants you to be in that little daughter's place, and +to live with her always." + +"But, aunt Candy will not," said Matilda, "she will not----" + +"Your aunt Candy has consented. I have arranged that. It is safely +done, Matilda. You are to live with Mrs. Laval, and be her child from +henceforth." + +Matilda still looked at Mr. Richmond for a minute or two, as if there +must be words to follow that would undo the wonderful tale of these; +but seeing that Mr. Richmond only smiled, there came a great change +over the child's face. The fixedness broke up. Yet she did not smile; +she seemed for the instant to grow grave and old; and clasping her +little hands, she turned away from Mr. Richmond and walked the breadth +of the room and back. Then she stood still again beside the table, +sober and pale. She looked at Mr. Richmond, waiting to hear more. + +"It is all true," said her friend. + +"Is it for _always?_" Matilda asked, in a low voice. + +"Yes. Even so. Mrs. Laval was very earnest in wishing it. I judged you +would not be unwilling, Matilda." + +The child said nothing, but the streak of colour began again to come +into her cheeks. + +"You are now to be Mrs. Laval's child. She adopts you for her own. In +all respects, except that of memory, you are to be as if you had been +born hers." + +"Does Norton know?" + +"I have not spoken to him. I really cannot tell." + +Again silence fell. Matilda stood with her eyes downcast, the colour +deepening in each cheek. Mr. Richmond watched her. + +"Have I done right?" he asked. + +"You, sir?" said Matilda, looking up. + +"Yes. Have I done right? I have made no mistake for your happiness?" + +"Did _you_ do it, sir?" + +"Yes, in one way. Mrs. Laval wished it; I arranged it. You know your +mother left me the power. Have I done right?" + +"Mr. Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I am afraid to think." + +Her friend smiled again, and waited till the power of speech should +come back. + +"Was aunt Candy willing?" she said then. + +"No, I do not think she was willing. I think the plan was not agreeable +to her. But she gave her consent to it. The reasons in favour of the +plan were so strong that she could not help that." + +Matilda privately wondered that any reasons could have had so much +weight; and rather fancied that Mr. Richmond had been the strongest +reason of them all. + +"And it is _all done?_" she said, lifting up her eyes. + +"All done. Arranged and finished. But Mrs. Laval is afraid to have you +come home before next week." + +"Mr. Richmond," said the child, coming close, and stealing her hand +into his, "I am very much obliged to you!" + +Her friend sat down and drew his arm around her; and Matilda's other +hand on his shoulder, they were both still, thinking, for some little +time. + +"Mr. Richmond," Matilda whispered, "I think I am somebody else." + +"I hope not, Tilly." + +"Everything in the world seems different." + +"Very naturally; but you can keep your self yet, I trust. If I thought +not, I should wish the whole thing undone." + +"I ought to be better," said Matilda. + +"We ought always to be better. Circumstances cannot change that. +_Nothing_ happens that the Lord does not mean shall help us to be +better. And yet, sometimes circumstances seem to make it more +difficult." + +"These don't, Mr. Richmond; do they?" + +"I don't know, Tilly. They may." + +"How?" + +"I will not forestall them, Tilly. If you watch, you will soon find +out, whether they do or not." + +"Are you afraid I shall be different, Mr. Richmond? _not_ growing +better, I mean." + +"I have not seen you tried, except in one way, you know." + +"I shall have more opportunities; shall I not, Mr. Richmond?" + +"Different opportunities. You have had no lack of them so far, have +you?" + +"Of one sort, Mr. Richmond." + +"Ah, but remember, my child, we are never without opportunities to do +the Lord's will; plenty of opportunities. What you are thinking of now, +is opportunity to do your own will; isn't it?" + +"I was thinking of helping people, and doing things for those who have +no money." + +"Yes. And is not that a pleasure?" + +"Oh yes, sir." + +"When the Lord puts it out of our power to have this pleasure, it shows +that those things are not His will for us just then, eh?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"What is our opportunity then?" + +"I know what you mean, Mr. Richmond. You mean, that then we can be +patient." + +"And content." + +"_Content?_" + +"Yes; if it is God's will. We must be content always to do that." + +"But I suppose," said Matilda, "I _shall_, maybe, have more chance to +do those things, Mr. Richmond." + +"If so, I hope you will do them. But I want you to be always ready to +do all the will of God. It is easy to pick out a pleasant duty here and +there, or an unpleasant duty even; and stand ready to be faithful in +that. But I want you to watch and be faithful in all things, that you +may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." + +"I will try, Mr. Richmond." + +"In every change of circumstances, Matilda, we find both new +opportunities and new difficulties. God has something new for us in +every change. The thing is, to be ready for it." + +"How can one always find out, Mr. Richmond, what it is?" + +"If you watch, and are obedient, the Lord will show it to you." + +Norton's step sounded on the piazza. Mr. Richmond loosened the hold of +his arm, and Matilda rushed off. Not so fast but that she stopped +midway between him and the door and said, soberly-- + +"Thank you, Mr. Richmond. I think I understand. I will try." + + + +PRINTED BY BALLANTINE AND COMPANY + +EDINBURGH AND LONDON + + + + + + + +Typographical errors silently corrected: + +Chapter 2: =Oh, I don't know= replaced by =Oh, I don' know= + +Chapter 2: =Am I one of em= replaced by =Am I one of 'em= + +Chapter 2: =giveth His life for= replaced by =giveth his life for= + +Chapter 2: =intelligible the reading this time= replaced by +=intelligible, the reading, this time= + +Chapter 2: =following him?'"= replaced by =following him'?"= + +Chapter 3: =she wants most= replaced by =she wants 'most= + +Chapter 4: =I don't know what 'twas= replaced by =I don' know what +'twas= + +Chapter 4: =begin with. "That's= replaced by =begin with. That= + +Chapter 5: =only a course pride= replaced by =only a coarse pride= + +Chapter 6: =Well we've got to go= replaced by =Well, we've got to go= + +Chapter 6: =Because Mr. Richmond= replaced by =Because, Mr. Richmond= + +Chapter 7: ='cause you see= replaced by ='cause, you see= + +Chapter 7: =where everybody lives?= replaced by =where everybody +lives.= + +Chapter 7: =making a fool of himself= replaced by =makin' a fool of +himself= + +Chapter 7: =sight of money= replaced by =sight o' money= + +Chapter 7: =Taint in 'em= replaced by ='Taint in 'em= + +Chapter 7: =She is one= replaced by ="She is one= + +Chapter 8: =you are very presuming= replaced by =You are very +presuming= + +Chapter 9: =go on using= replaced by =go on, using= + +Chapter 10: ="Two or three= replaced by =Two or three= + +Chapter 10: =went on pointing= replaced by =went on, pointing= + +Chapter 10: =at Shadywalk had= replaced by =at Shadywalk, had= + +Chapter 10: =because it is shorter= replaced by =becaase it is shorter= + +Chapter 10: =gruel nicely= replaced by =gruel, nicely= + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Opportunities, by Susan Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OPPORTUNITIES *** + +***** This file should be named 30147.txt or 30147.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/1/4/30147/ + +Produced by Daniel Fromont. 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