WHAT SHE COULD; 
 
 AND 
 
 OPPORTUNITIES, 
 
 g, Stqutl. 
 
PRIMTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON 
 
Slio tf<it lu.TSO lt 1 Cudy, ami mm taking her .Bible, t>!je went out. 
 P. 2:jl. 
 

 WHAT SHE COULD; 
 
 AND 
 
 OPPORTUNITIES, 
 
 TALES 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "THE WIDE WIDE WORLD," &c. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. 
 
 MDCCCLXXI. 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " GIRLS, there s a Band!" 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " A Band in the Sunday-school." 
 
 " I am sure there is a careless girl in the house," put in 
 another speaker. "Go and wipe your feet, Maria; look 
 at the snow you have brought in." 
 
 " But, mamma " 
 
 "Go and get rid of that snow before you say another 
 word. And you too, Matilda: see, child, what lumps of 
 snow are sticking to your shoes. Was there no mat at the 
 door?" , 
 
 " There was a cold wind there," muttered Maria, as she 
 went to obey orders. " What harm does a little snow do 1 " 
 
 But while she went to the door again, her sister, a pretty, 
 delicate child of fewer years, stood still, and adroitly slipped 
 her feet out of the snowy shoes she had brought in, which 
 she put in the corner of the fireplace to thaw and dry off ; 
 the little stocking feet standing comfortably on the rug 
 before the blaze. It was so neatly done, the mother and 
 elder sisters looked on and could not chide. Neatness 
 suited the place. The room was full of warm comfort ; the 
 furniture in nice order; the work, several kinds of which 
 were in as many hands, though lying about also on chairs 
 
 A 
 
 M174959 
 
and tables, had yet the look of order and method. You 
 would have said at once that there was something good in 
 the family. The child in front of the fire told more for it. 
 Her delicate features, the refined look and manner with 
 which she stood there in her uncovered feet, even a little 
 sort of fastidious grace which one or two movements testi 
 fied, drew the eyes of mother and sisters, and manifestly 
 stopped their tongues ; even called forth a smile or two. 
 
 " What is all this Maria is talking about, Matilda 1" 
 
 "Why, we have been to the Sunday-school meeting, 
 mamma." 
 
 " I know that ; and it was not a night fit for you to go. 
 What ever possessed you and Maria ]" remarked one of the 
 sisters. 
 
 "Why, Mr Richmond wanted to see all the Sunday- 
 school," said Matilda, thoughtfully. " He wanted you too, 
 I suppose ; and you were not there." 
 
 "There is no use in having a meeting such a night. Of 
 course, a great many people could not be there. It ought 
 to have been put off." 
 
 " Well, it was not put off," said Matilda. 
 
 " What did he want ? What was Maria talking about ? " 
 
 " She is the -best one to ask," said the child. 
 
 At the same moment Maria came in from getting rid of 
 the snow, and inquired if Tilly had told them everything ? 
 Finding all was right, she sat down contentedly before the 
 fire and stretched out her feet towards it. 
 
 " We ve had a splendid time, I can tell you," she began. 
 
 " What was done in particular 1 " asked one of the older 
 girls, who was making a bonnet. " More than usual 1 " 
 
 " A great many things in particular, and one in general. 
 We ve made a Band." 
 
 "I have made several since you have been away," the 
 other sister remarked. 
 
 "You know we cannot understand that unless you ex 
 plain," said the bonnet-maker. 
 
 " You must let Maria take her own manner," said their 
 mother. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 3 
 
 " Well, now, I 11 tell you all about it," said Maria. " There 
 weren t a great many people there, to begin with." 
 
 " Of course not ! such a night." 
 
 "So there were plenty of empty benches, and it didn t 
 look like a meeting at all, at first; and I wondered if it 
 would come to anything, but then Mr Richmond came in, 
 and I saw he meant something." 
 
 " Mr Richmond always does mean something," interrupted 
 Matilda. 
 
 "You hush, Tilly! Well, there were prayers first, of 
 course ; and then Mr Richmond stood up iu the aisle, and 
 said he wanted to know how many of us all there were 
 willing to be really good." 
 
 " The servants of Christ, he said," Matilda explained. 
 
 " Yes, the servants of Christ, of course ; and he said he 
 didn t know any better way to get at it than that we should 
 all stand up." 
 
 A burst of laughter from all Maria s audience a little con 
 fused her. Only Matilda looked gravely at her sister, as if 
 she were making bad work of it. Maria coloured, stam 
 mered, and began again. 
 
 " You all know what I mean ! You know what I mean, 
 mamma ? Mr Richmond did not say that we should all 
 stand up." 
 
 " Then why did you say it ? " 
 
 "I thought you would understand. He said that all 
 those should stand up, so that he might see who they were, 
 who were willing to be real workers for Christ ; those who 
 were willing to give themselves to the Lord, and to do 
 everything or anything he gave them to do for Him. So 
 we stood up, and Mr Richmond went round and took our 
 names down." 
 
 " Everybody who was there ? " 
 
 "Why, no! those who were willing to do as Mr 
 Richmond said." 
 
 " Did you stand up ? " asked one of her sisters. 
 
 "Yes; I did." 
 
 "Who else?" 
 
4 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 After a pause 
 
 " Oh, a great many people ! All the members of the 
 church, of course ; and then a good many more that aren t. 
 Esther Trembleton rose, and Ailie Swan, and Mattie Van 
 Dyke, and Frances Earth, and Mrs Rice. And little Mary 
 Edwards, she was there, and she rose, and Willie Edwards ; 
 and Mr Bates got up and said he was happy to see this 
 day. I think he was ready to cry, he was so glad." 
 
 " And is this the Band you spoke of ? " 
 
 " This is the Sunday-school Working Band ; that is 
 what Mr Richmond called it." 
 
 " What work are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I don t know ! Mr Richmond said he could not tell 
 just yet ; but we are to have meetings and all sorts of things. 
 And then Mr Richmond talked." 
 
 "What about?" 
 
 " Oh, I can t tell. You know how he talks." 
 
 " He said what the Band were to do," remarked Matilda. 
 
 "I told what that was." 
 
 "You did not tell what he said." 
 
 " Why, yes, I did ; he said they were to do all the work 
 for Christ that they could ; and they were to pray a great 
 deal, and pray for each other a great deal ; and they were 
 to live right." 
 
 "Uncompromising Christian lives, he said. Mamma, 
 what does uncompromising mean 1 " 
 
 " Why, you know ! " put in her sister. 
 
 " Tell, then, Maria," said the mother. 
 
 "Matilda must know, mamma; for Mr Richmond ex 
 plained it enough." 
 
 " Then certainly you must." 
 
 " I can t talk like Mr Richmond, though," said Maria. 
 "Letty, you ll spoil that bonnet if you put red flowers in." 
 
 " That s as you think," said Letty. " Blue would be very 
 dull." 
 
 " Mamma, what is uncompromising 1 " pursued Matilda, 
 a pair of large, serious brown eyes fastening on her mother s 
 face to await the answer. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 5 
 
 " Did not Mr Richmond tell you ? " 
 
 " If he did, I did not understand, mamma." 
 
 " Then he ought to use words you can understand ; that is 
 all I have to say. I cannot undertake to be Mr Richmond s 
 dictionary. Uncompromising means different things at dif 
 ferent times. It isn t a word for you, Tilly," the mother 
 added, with a smile at the child. 
 
 " There is only one thing Tilly will ever be uncompromis 
 ing about," her oldest sister remarked. 
 
 "What is that 1" the little one asked quick. 
 
 " Girls, stop talking and go to bed," said their mother. 
 " Letitia and Anne, put up work ; I am tired. Maria, you 
 and Tilly go at once and be out of the way." 
 
 "I can t see how I am in the way," remarked Maria. 
 " Letty has not done her bonnet yet, and she will not go 
 till she has." 
 
 " Letty, I am not going to wait for that bonnet." 
 
 " No, ma am ; there is no need." 
 
 " I am not going to leave you up, either. I know how 
 that works. The bonnet can be finished to-morrow. And, 
 Anne, roll up your ruffles. Come, girls ! " 
 
 " What a lovely mantilla that is going to be ; isn t it, 
 mamma ? " said Maria. " Won t Anne look nice when she 
 gets it on ? I wish you d let me have one just like it, 
 mamma." 
 
 "I do not care about your having one just like it," said 
 Anne. " What would be the use of that ? " 
 
 " The same use, I suppose " 
 
 "Maria, go to bed! "said her mother. "And Matilda. 
 Look what o clock it is." 
 
 "I can t go, mamma, unless somebody will bring me 
 some shoes. Mine are wet." 
 
 " Maria, fetch Tilly a pair of shoes. And go, children." 
 
 The children went ; but Maria grumbled. 
 
 " Why couldn t you come up-stairs on your stocking feet 1 
 I should." 
 
 " It isn t nice," said the little one. 
 
 "Nice! you re so terribly nice you can t do anything 
 
6 " WHAT SHE COULD. 
 
 other people do. There is no use in our coming to bed 
 now ; Anne and Letty will sit up till eleven o clock, I 
 shouldn t wonder ; and we might just as well as not. 
 Mamma can t get them to bed. Letty and Anne ought to 
 have been at the meeting to-night. I wonder if they would 
 have risen 1 Why did you not rise, Matilda ? " 
 
 " I had not thought about it." 
 
 " Can t you do anything without thinking about it first ? " 
 
 " I do not understand it yet." 
 
 " Understand ! why, nothing is easier than to under 
 stand. Of course, we are all to be as good as we can be, 
 that s all." 
 
 " You don t think that is much," said the little one, as 
 she began slowly to undress herself. The work of undressing 
 and dressing was always slow with Tilly. Every article 
 of clothing taken off was to be delicately folded and nicely 
 laid away at night ; and taken out and put on with equal 
 care and punctiliousness in the morning. Maria s stockings 
 went one way and her shoes another ; while Tilly s were 
 put exactly ready for use under her chair. And Maria s 
 clothes presently lay in a heap on the floor. But not till 
 some time after Matilda s neat arrangements had been 
 made and she herself was safe in bed. Maria had dallied 
 while the other was undressing. 
 
 "I think you are very curious, Matilda ! " she exclaimed, 
 as she followed her sister into bed. "I shouldn t think it 
 required much thinking, to know that one ought to be 
 good." 
 
 " You haven t put out the candle, Maria." 
 
 Maria bounced from her bed, and bounced in again. 
 
 " O Maria ! " said Matilda in a moment or two, plain 
 tively ; " you ve blown it out i and the room is all filled 
 with smoke." 
 
 " It doesn t make any difference," said Maria. 
 
 " It is very disagreeable." 
 
 " It will be gone in a minute." 
 
 " No, it won t, for I can see the red spark on the end of 
 the candle now." 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 7 
 
 You are so particular, Tilly ! " said her sister. " If you 
 ever take a notion to be good, you 11 have to leave off some 
 of your ways, I can tell you. You needn t mind a little 
 smell of candle-smoke. Go to sleep, and forget it." 
 
 " Don t good people mind disagreeable things ? " said 
 Matilda. 
 
 " No, of course, they don t. How could they get along, 
 you know? Don t you remember what Mr Bichrnond 
 said?" 
 
 " I don t remember that he said that. But then, Maria, 
 would you mind getting up to snuff out that candle? It s 
 dreadful!" 
 
 " Nonsense ! I shan t do it. I ve just got warm." 
 
 Another minute or two gave tokens that Maria was 
 past minding discomfort of any sort. She was fast asleep. 
 Tilly waited, panted, looked at the glimmering red end of 
 the candle snuff ; finally got out of bed and crept to the 
 dressing-table where it stood, and with some trouble 
 managed to put a stop to smoke for that night. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE house in which these things happened was a brown 
 house, standing on the great high-road of travel which ran 
 through the country, and just where a considerable village 
 had clustered round it. From the upper windows you 
 caught a glimpse of a fine range of blue mountains, lying 
 miles away, and with indeed a broad river flowing between ; 
 but the river was too far off to be seen, and hidden behind 
 intervening ground. From the lower windows you looked 
 out into the village street ; clean and wide, with comfortable 
 houses standing along the way, not crowded together ; and 
 with gardens between and behind them, and many trees 
 shielding and overhanging. The trees were bare now ; the 
 gardens a spread of snow ; the street a white way for 
 sleigh-runners ; nevertheless, the aspect of the whole was 
 hopeful, comfortable, thriving, even a little ambitious. 
 Within this particular house, if you went in, you would see 
 comfort, but little pretension ; a neat look of things, but 
 such things as had been mended and saved, and would not 
 be rashly replaced. It was very respectable, therefore, and 
 had no look of poverty. So of the family gathered around 
 the breakfast-table on the morning after the Sunday-school 
 meeting. It was a fair group, healthy and bright ; the four 
 girls and their mother. They were nicely dressed ; and 
 good appetites spoke of good spirits ; and the provision on 
 the table was abundant though plain. 
 
 Maria asked if Letty bad finished her bonnet last night. 
 Letty said she had. 
 
 "And did you put those red flowers in 1" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "That will be gay." 
 
 "Not too gay. Just enough. The bonnet would be 
 nothing if it had not flowers." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 9 
 
 Maria s spoon paused half way to her mouth. "T 
 wonder," she said, gravely, "if Mr Richmond likes red 
 flowers ? " 
 
 "He has nothing to do with my bonnet," said Letitia. 
 " And no more have you. You need not raise the question. 
 I shall wear what becomes me." 
 
 " What is the difference whether one wears red or blue, 
 Maria 1 " said her mother. " Do you think one colour is 
 more religious than another ? or more wicked 1 What do 
 you mean 1 " 
 
 "Nothing, ma am," Maria answered, a little abashed. "I 
 was only thinking." 
 
 "I think Mr Richmond likes flowers everywhere," said 
 Matilda ; " and all colours." 
 
 " People that are very religious do not wear flowers in 
 their bonnets though, do they 1 " said Maria. 
 
 " Mr Richmond did not say any such thing !" said Matilda, 
 indignantly. 
 
 " What did he say ? What was all this last night s talk 
 about ?" said Anne. " I did not understand half of it. Was 
 it against red flowers, or red anything ? " 
 
 " I did not understand any of it," said Mrs Englefield. 
 
 " Why, mamma, I told you all, as plain as could be," said 
 Maria. " I told you he made a Band " 
 
 "He didn t," interrupted Matilda; "the Band made 
 themselves." 
 
 But at this, the shout that went round the breakfast-table 
 threatened to endanger the dishes. 
 
 " It s no use trying to talk," said Maria, sullenly, " if you 
 laugh so. I told you there was a Band ; ever so many of us 
 rose up and agreed that we would belong to it." 
 
 " Matilda, are you in it too ? " the mother asked. 
 
 " No, mamma." 
 
 " Why not ? How comes that ? " 
 
 " She wasn t ready," her sister said. 
 
 "Why not, Tilly?" 
 
 " Mamma, I want to understand," said the child. 
 
 " Quite right ; so do I." 
 
10 "WHAT SHE COULD. 
 
 " Wouldn t you do what Mr Richmond says, whether you 
 understand or not 1 " inquired Maria, severely. 
 
 " I would rather know what it is, first," said Matilda, in 
 her way, which was a compound of cool and demure, but 
 quite natural. 
 
 " And when is the next meeting ? " said Letitia. " I guess 
 I 11 go." 
 
 " It won t be for a week/ said Matilda. 
 
 "And will you join the Band, Letty?" Maria asked 
 somewhat eagerly. 
 
 " How join it 1 " 
 
 " Why, rise up, when you are asked." 
 
 "What does rising up mean, Maria 1 ? What do you 
 rise for ? " 
 
 " Why, it means just that you promise to be good, you 
 know." 
 
 " But I have heard you promise that a number of times, 
 it seems to me, without * rising up, as you call it. Will the 
 promise last better, if you make it on your feet instead of 
 sitting ? " 
 
 "Now, mamma," said Maria, flushing; "isn t that just 
 wicked in Letitia 1 " 
 
 " My dear, I do not understand one word at present of 
 what this is all about," her mother answered. 
 
 Perhaps Matilda was in the same mood, for she was a 
 thoughtful little child all the way to school that morning. 
 And at the close of the school day, when the children were 
 going home, she went slowly and demurely along the icy 
 street, while her sister and companions made a merry time. 
 There had been a little thaw in the middle of the day, and 
 now it had turned cold again, and the side walks were a 
 glare of ice. Matilda was afraid, and went cautiously ; 
 Maria and the others took the opportunity for a grand 
 slide, and ran and slipped and slid and sailed away 
 homewards, like mad things. One after another, they 
 passed her and rushed along, till Matilda was left the 
 last, slowly shuffling her little feet over the track which 
 the feet of the others had made doubly slippery; when 
 
11 
 
 quick steps came up behind her, and a pleasant voice 
 spoke 
 
 " Are you afraid you are going to tumble down ? " 
 
 Matilda started, but lifted her eyes very contentedly then 
 to the face of the speaker. They had a good way to go, for 
 he was a tall young man. But he was looking down towards 
 her with a bright face, and two good, clear blue eyes, and a 
 smile ; and his hand presently clasped hers. Matilda had 
 no objection. 
 
 "Where is everybody else? how come you to be all 
 alone ? " 
 
 " They have gone ahead, sliding on the ice." 
 
 "And you do riot practise sliding ? " 
 
 "I am always afraid I shall fall down." 
 
 " The best way is not to be afraid ; and then you don t 
 fall down. See ; no ! hold fast. I shall not let you slip ! " 
 
 And the gentleman and Matilda slid along the street for 
 half a block. 
 
 " How do you like that ? " 
 
 " Very well, Mr Richmond, with you holding me." 
 
 " It doesn t give you courage, eh ? Wejl, we will walk on 
 soberly together. I didn t see you stand when Maria did 
 last night 1 " 
 
 " Mr Richmond, I did not know just what it all meant ; 
 and so I sat still." 
 
 " You do not know just what it all meant 1" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Then you were perfectly right to sit still. But that 
 means that I did not speak so that you could understand 
 me ? Was it so ? " 
 
 " I did not understand " said Matilda. 
 
 " It comes to that, I suppose. It is my fault. Well, I 
 shall remember and be very careful what 1 say the next 
 time. I will speak so that you will understand. But in 
 that case, I want you to do one thing for me, Tilly ; will 
 you ? " 
 
 "If lean, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " Do you think I would ask something you could not do 1 " 
 
12 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 Matilda looked up to the blue eyes again ; they were 
 fastened upon her gravely, and she hesitated. 
 
 " Mr Richmond I don t know. You might." 
 
 "I hope not," he said, smiling. "I will try not. You 
 won t promise me ? " 
 
 " If I can I will, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " I am only going to ask you, when you hear what I have 
 to say next time, if you understand it, will you do what you 
 think you ought to do ? " 
 
 There fell a silence upon that. Mr Richmond s firm step 
 on the icy ground and Matilda s light footfall passed by 
 house after house, and still the little one s tongue seemed to 
 be tied. They turned the corner, and went their way along 
 Matilda s own street, where the light of afternoon was now 
 fading, and the western sky was throwing 1 a reflection of its 
 own. Past the butcher s shop, and the post-office, and house 
 after house ; and still Matilda was silent, and her conductor 
 did not speak, until they stopped before the little gate lead 
 ing to the house, which was placed somewhat back from the 
 road. At the gate Mr Richmond stood still. 
 
 "What about my question, Matilda?" he said, without 
 loosing his hold of the little hand which had rested so will 
 ingly in his all the way. 
 
 " Aren t you coming in, Mr Richmond ? " 
 
 " Not to-night. What about my question ? " 
 
 "Mr Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I do not 
 always do the things I ought to do." 
 
 "No; I know you do not. But will you do that thing, 
 which you will think you ought to do, when you have heard 
 me, and understood what I say, the next time the Band has 
 a meeting ] " 
 
 Matilda stood silent, her hand still in Mr Richmond s. 
 
 "What s the matter?" 
 
 " Perhaps I shall not want to do it," she said, looking up 
 frankly. 
 
 " I ask you to do it all the same." 
 
 Matilda did not move ; and now her face showed great 
 perplexity. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 13 
 
 " Well? v said Mr Riclimond, smiling at last. 
 
 " Perhaps I cannot do it, Mr Richmond ! " 
 
 " Then, if you think you cannot do it, will you come and 
 tell me 3" 
 
 Matilda hesitated and pondered and hesitated. 
 
 " Do you wish it very much, Mr Richmond ] " she said, 
 looking up appealingly into his face. 
 
 " I do wish it very much." 
 
 " Then I will ! " said Matilda, with a sigh 
 
 He nodded, shook her hand, and turned away with quick 
 steps. Matilda went in and climbed the stairs to the room 
 she and Maria shared together. 
 
 * What were you talking to Mr Richmond so long about 1 " 
 said Maria. 
 
 " I wasn t talking to Mr Richmond. He was talking to 
 me." 
 
 "What s the difference ? But I wish he would talk to 
 Ailie Swan ; she wants it, I know. That girl is too much ! " 
 
 " What has she done 1 " 
 
 " Oh, you don t know, she isn t in your set. 7 know. 
 She s just disagreeable. I think people ought to be civil, 
 if they are ever so good." 
 
 " I thought good people were civil always." 
 
 " Shows you don t know much." 
 
 " Isn t Ailie Swan civil?" 
 
 " I do not call it civility. What do you think, Tilly ? I 
 asked her if my South America wasn t good ? and she said 
 she thought it was not. Isn t that civility ] " 
 
 " What did you ask her for ? " 
 
 " Because ! I knew my South America was good." 
 
 "Let me see it." 
 
 " Nonsense ! You do not know the first thing about it." 
 But she gave her little sister the sheet on which the map 
 was drawn. Matilda took it to a table under the window, 
 where the dying light from the western sky fell brightest ; 
 and putting both elbows on the table and her head in her 
 hands, studied the map. 
 
 "Where is the atlas?" 
 
14 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " What do you want of the atlas 1 " 
 
 " I want to see if it is like." 
 
 " It is like, of course, child." 
 
 "I can t tell without seeing," Matilda persisted. And 
 Maria grumblingly brought the atlas, open at the map in 
 question. Matilda took it and studied anew. 
 
 " It is getting dark," said she at length. " But your South 
 America is crooked, Maria." 
 
 " It isn t ! " said Maria, vehemently. " How should it 
 be crooked, when we angle it on, just according to the 
 rules 1 " 
 
 "Angle it on ? " repeated Matilda, looking at her sister. 
 
 11 Yes. Oh, you don t understand, child ; how should 
 you ? I told you you didn t know anything about it. Of 
 course, we have rules and things to go by ; and my South 
 America was put on just right." 
 
 " It is not straight, though," said Matilda. 
 
 " Why, no, it isn t straight ; it is not meant to be straight ; 
 it is all crookly crawly, going in and out, all round." 
 
 " But it don t stand straight," said Matilda; "and it looks 
 thin, too, Maria ; it don t puff out as much as the real South 
 America does." 
 
 "Puff out!" Maria repeated. "It s as good as Ailie s, 
 anyhow; and a great deal better than Frances Earth s. 
 Frances got a great blot on hers ; she s so careless. George 
 Van Dyke is making a nice one ; and Ben Barth is doing a 
 splendid map ; but then Ben does everything " 
 
 Here there was a great call to tea from below, and the 
 girls went down. Down-stairs there was excitement. A 
 letter had come from Mrs Candy, Mrs Englefield s sister, 
 saying that she herself with her daughter Clarissa would be 
 with them the beginning of the week. 
 
 " To stay, mamma 1 O mamma, is Aunt Candy coming 
 to stay ? Do tell me. Is she coming to stay ? " Maria ex 
 claimed and questioned. 
 
 "She will stay a night with us, Maria. Don t be so 
 eager." 
 
 " Only a night, mamma ? Won t she be here longer." 
 
And Maria grumblingly brought the atlis, >ojjeij,a5< ^he ,map in 
 question." P. 21. ^ I!, } \ " \ 
 
15 
 
 " She is coming to stay till summer, Maria/ said her eldest 
 sister. " Do be reasonable." 
 
 " I think it is reasonable to want to linow," said Maria. 
 " You knew ; so you didn t care about it." 
 
 " I care a great deal ; what do you mean ? " said Anne. 
 
 " I mean you didn t care about knowing. mamma, can t 
 I have my dress finished before they come 1 " 
 
 " What dress, Maria 1 " her sister went on ; for Mrs Engle- 
 field was busy with the letter. 
 
 " My new merino. It is almost done ; it only wants 
 finishing/ 
 
 "There s all the braid to put on, isn t there 1 " 
 
 "Well, that isn t much. Mamma, cannot I have my red 
 merino finished before they come ? I have got nothing to 
 wear." 
 
 " What can you mean, Maria ? You have everything you 
 want. That is only for your best dress." 
 
 " But, mamma, it is just when I should want it, when they 
 come ; you 11 be having everybody to tea. Won t you have 
 it done for me 1 please, mamma ! " 
 
 " I think you can do it for yourself, Maria. I have no 
 objection to your finishing it." 
 
 " I cannot put on that braid in that quirlicue pattern, 
 mamma ; I never did such work as that ; and I haven t time 
 besides." 
 
 " Nor inclination," said Letitia, laughing. " Come, Maria, 
 it is time you learned to do something for yourself. Matilda, 
 now, might plead inexperience, and have some reason ; but 
 you are quite old enough." 
 
 The dispute would have gone on, but Mrs Englefield de 
 sired silence, and the family drew round the tea-table. Other 
 plans for the following weeks filled every tongue. Mrs Candy 
 was well off; a widow with one child, her daughter Clarissa; 
 she had been in Europe for several years ; coming back now 
 to her own country, she was bending her steps first of all to 
 her sister s house and family." 
 
 " We shall have the new fashions, straight from Paris," 
 Anne remarked. 
 
16 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " Has Aunt Candy boen in Paris ? I thought she was in 
 Scotland, mamma 1 " 
 
 "People may go to Paris, if they have been in Scotland, 
 Maria. It is not so far as around the world." 
 
 "But has she been in Paris ? " 
 
 "Lately." 
 
 " Mamma, what is Aunt Candy going to do with herself 
 when summer comes ? She says, * till summer. " 
 
 " When she tells us, I shall know, Letty. At present I 
 am as ignorant as you." 
 
 " Do you think she will buy a house here, and make her 
 home here ? " 
 
 "That depends on how well she likes Shady walk, I 
 imagine." 
 
 "I hope she will!" 
 
 " I would like to see, first, what she is," said Maria. " We 
 shall have time enough for that, if they stay with us till 
 summer. How old, mamma, is Clarissa Candy ? " 
 
 " Over your age, Maria, by a year or so." 
 
 " Will she go to school with us, do you suppose, mamma 1 " 
 
 " I really cannot tell, Maria. I think it very likely." 
 
 "Is Aunt Candy very rich 1 " 
 
 "You talk like a foolish girl. Why do you want to 
 know?" 
 
 "I was thinking whether Clarissa would be dressed a 
 great deal better than we are." 
 
 " And what if she is 1 " 
 
 " Nothing. I was thinking. That s all." 
 
 " I don t think it signifies," said Matilda. 
 
 " Oh ! Matilda has found her tongue ! I was waiting to 
 see when she would speak," cried Anne. " What don t signify, 
 little one?" 
 
 " It don t signify, I think, whether any one is dressed 
 better than another ; anybody Clarissa or anybody else." 
 
 " Well, you are mistaken then," said Anne ; " for it does 
 signify. All the world knows it ; and what is more, all the 
 world feels it." 
 
 "I don t think I do," said Matilda. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 17 
 
 " Your time has not come." 
 
 " Your time had come, though, before you were as old as 
 she," said her mother ; " and Maria s and Letty s." 
 
 "I know Matilda is a wonderful child," said Anne, 
 " but her time will come too, mamma ; and she will find 
 it makes a difference whether she is dressed one way or 
 another." 
 
 "I think that now," observed Matilda. 
 
 "Anybody that has to fasten Tilly s dresses knows that," 
 laughed Maria. " I don t make half so much fuss." 
 
 " I wish you did," said her mother. " You are not near 
 careful enough in putting on your things. Now putting on 
 is half the battle." 
 
 The argument lasted till Tilly and Maria went back to 
 the consideration of South America, which was brought 
 down-stairs to the lamp. 
 
 "You haven t got the Amazon right," said Matilda; "and 
 Rio Janeiro is too far down ; and it s all crooked don t 
 you see 1 " 
 
 " No ! " said Maria ; " and if it is, Ailie Swan needn t have 
 said hers was better." 
 
 " You asked her." 
 
 "Well, if I did?" 
 
 "What could she say?" 
 
 " I don t care ; it was awfully rude ; and people ought to 
 be polite, if they re ever so good." 
 
 "What is all that ! " said Mrs Englefield. " That is not 
 Tilly s map?" 
 
 " Oh no, mamma ; she can t draw maps ; she is only 
 setting up for a judge." 
 
 " She would do it as well as that, if she would try," said 
 her mother. " I wish you would love your studies, Matilda. 
 You could do so well if you pleased." 
 
 " Clarissa Candy will make you both ashamed," said Anne. 
 " She has learned everything, and is terribly smart j i going 
 on to learn everything else, her mother says." 
 
 " Mamma," said Maria, " I have only my green silk and 
 my blue delaine for nice dresses ; and the silk is old-fashioned, 
 
18 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 you know, and the delaine is too short ; and I want my merino 
 finished." 
 
 " Finish it, then." 
 
 Maria pouted. 
 
 " I cannot afford every indulgence to you, as your aunt 
 can to Clarissa ; you must make it up by your own industry." 
 
 " But can I, mamma I " 
 
 "Can you what?" 
 
 " If I am very smart, can you give me things, if I make 
 them up, that I can be as well dressed as Clarissa Candy ? " 
 
 " Let us see the merino made first," said her mother. 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THERE was great interest now at Shady walk, at least in one 
 house, to know when the Liverpool steamer, City of Pride, 
 would be in. Conjectures proving unsatisfactory and un 
 certain, the whole family took to studying the marine lists 
 in the daily papers; and when everybody else had looked 
 them over, the last one of the family did it again with extra 
 care ; lest by some singular coincidence the letters forming 
 the City of Pride might have escaped the eyes so keen set to 
 find them. The paper grew better than a novel. It furnished 
 a great deal of matter for conversation, besides ; for all the 
 steamers which had got in were talked over, with their dates 
 of sailing, and number of days on the passage ; with each of 
 which the times, certain and probable, of the City of Pride 
 were compared. Then there was the question, whether Aunt 
 Candy might have changed her mind at the last minute, and 
 waited for another steamer ; and the reports of the weather 
 lately experienced at sea were anxiously read and put along 
 side of the weather lately experienced at Shadywalk. 
 
 Preparations in the house went on diligently ; whatever 
 might help it to make a better impression, or afford greater 
 comfort to the expected guests, was carefully done. Mrs 
 Englefield even talked of getting a new stair-carpet, but 
 contented herself with having the old one taken up and put 
 down again, the stairs washed, and the stair-rods brightened ; 
 the spare room, the large corner chamber looking to the 
 north and west, was scrupulously swept and dusted ; furni 
 ture rubbed ; little white knitted mats laid on the dressing- 
 table ; the chintz curtains taken down and put up again ; a 
 new nice chamber set of white china was bought, for the 
 pitcher of the old set had an ugly nick in it and looked 
 shabby ; the towel rack was filled with white napery ; the 
 handsomest Marseilles quilt was spread on the bed ; the 
 
20 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 stove was blackened and polished. It looked " very respect 
 able," Anne said, when all was done. 
 
 What private preparations went on, besides, on the part 
 of the girls, it would be hard to say. Maria worked hard at 
 her braiding that was open to anybody s observation ; but 
 there were less obvious flutings and ironings down in the 
 kitchen, and adjusting of ribbons and flowers in secret con 
 sultations up-stairs. And one piece of care was made public 
 by Maria, who announced that Letty had trimmed her old 
 bonnet three times over before she would be suited. 
 
 " Very well," said Letty, contentedly. " I should like to 
 know who would wear an old thing when he could have a 
 new ; and mine is like new now." 
 
 " Things can t be new always," said Matilda. 
 
 " What then ?" her sisters asked, laughing. 
 
 " Then it must be respectable for them to be old, some 
 times." 
 
 " Respectable ! Not very pleasant, when they are to be 
 set alongside of things as new and nice as they can be. I 
 like to be as good as anybody, for my part." 
 
 " Mamma," said Matilda, " do you know there is a great 
 hole in the door mat ?< " 
 
 " It is worn out a great deal too soon," said Mrs Engle- 
 field ; " I shall tell Mr Hard that his goods do not last ; to 
 be sure, you children do kick it to pieces with the snow." 
 
 " But, mamma, I should think you might get another, 
 and let that one go to the kitchen." 
 
 " And then, wouldn t you like me to buy a new hall cloth ? 
 there is very nearly a hole in that." 
 
 " Oh yes, mamma ! " 
 
 " I cannot do it, children. I am not as rich as your Aunt 
 Candy. You must be contented to let things be as they 
 are." 
 
 The girls seemed to take it as a grave fact, to judge by their 
 faces. 
 
 " And I think all this is very foolish talking and feeling. 
 People are not any better for being rich." 
 
 " But they are a great deal happier," said Letitia. 
 
21 
 
 " I don t know, I am sure. I never was tried. I think 
 you had better put the thought out of your heads. I should 
 be sorry if you were not as happy as your cousin, and with 
 as much reason." 
 
 "Mamma s being sorry doesn t help the matter," said 
 Letitia, softly. " I know I should be happier if I had what 
 I want. It is just nonsense to say I should not. And 
 mamma would herself." 
 
 That evening, the end of the week it was, the newspaper 
 rewarded the first eyes that looked at its columns, with the 
 intelligence that the City of Pride had been telegraphed. 
 She would be in that night. And the list of passengers 
 duly showed the names of Mrs Candy and daughter. The 
 family could hardly wait over Sunday now. Monday morn 
 ing s train, they settled it, would bring the travellers. 
 Sunday was spent in a flutter. But, however, that Monday, 
 as well as that Sunday, was a lost day. The washing was 
 put off, and a special dinner cooked, in vain. The children 
 stayed at home and did not go to school, and did nothing. 
 Nobody did anything to speak of. To be sure there was a 
 great deal of running up and down stairs ; setting and clear 
 ing tables ; going to and from the post-office ; but when 
 night came, the house and everything in it was just where 
 the morning had found them ; only, all the humanity in it 
 was tired with looking out of windows. 
 
 " That s the worst of expecting people ! " Mrs Englefield 
 observed, as she wearily put herself in an arm-chair, and 
 Letitia drew the window curtains. "You never know 
 what to do, and the thing you do is sure to be the wrong 
 thing. Here Judith might as well have done her washing 
 as not ; and now it s to do to-morrow, when we don t want 
 it in the way, and it will be in the way." 
 
 "Don t you think they will come to-night, mamma ?" 
 said Matilda. 
 
 "I don t know, I am sure. I know no more than you 
 do. How can I tell ? Only don t ask me any more ques 
 tions." 
 
 " Would you have tea yet, mamma ? " said Letitia. 
 
22 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " There s a question, now ! I tell you, don t ask me. 
 Just when you like." 
 
 "There s no train due for a good while, mamma ; they 
 couldn t come for two or three hours. I think we had 
 better have tea." 
 
 So she went off to prepare it, just as Matilda who had 
 put her face outside of the window curtain, proclaimed that 
 somebody was coming to the door. 
 
 " Only one person though, mamma. Mamma ! it s Miss 
 Redwood Mr Richmond s Miss Redwood." 
 
 "It wanted but that! "Mrs Englefield exclaimed, with 
 a sort of resigned despair. " Let her in, Matilda. I locked 
 the door." 
 
 The person who followed Matilda to the sitting-room was 
 a slim woman, in black costume, neither new nor fashionable. 
 Indeed, it had no such pretensions ; for the fashion at that 
 time was for small bonnets, but Miss Redwood s shadowed 
 her face with a reminiscence of the coal-scuttle shapes, once 
 worn many years before. The face under the bonnet was 
 thin and sharp-featured ; yet a certain delicate softness of 
 skin saved it from being harsh ; there was even a little 
 peachy bloom on the cheeks. The eyes were soft and keen 
 at once ; at least there was no want of benevolence in them, 
 while their glance was swift and shrewd enough, and full 
 of business activity. 
 
 " Miss Redwood, how do you do 1 I am glad to see you. 
 Do sit down," was Mrs Englefield s salutation, made with 
 out rising. 
 
 " How do you do, Mis Englefield ? Why seems as if you 
 were expectin folks here ? " 
 
 " Just what we are doing : and it is some of the hardest 
 work one can do." 
 
 " Depends on who you expect, seems to me. And I guess 
 tain t harder work than what I ve been doing to day. I ve 
 been makin soap. Got it done, too. And tain t to do agin 
 till this time next year comes round." 
 
 " Can you make enough at once for the whole year ? I 
 cannot." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 23 
 
 " Spects you use a passel, don t ye 1 " 
 
 "Of course in so large a family. But you re a great 
 hand for soap, Miss Redwood, if folks say true 1 " 
 
 "Cellar ain t never out of it," said Miss Redwood, shak 
 ing her head. " It s strong, mine is ; that s where it is. 
 You see I ve my own leach sot up, and there s lots o 
 ashes ; the minister, he likes to burn wood, and I like it, for 
 it gives me my ley ; and I don t have no trouble with it j the 
 minister, he saws it and splits it and chops it, and then when 
 all s done he brings it in, and he puts it on. All I have to 
 do is to get my ashes. I did think, when I first come, and 
 the minister he told me he calculated to burn wood in his 
 room, I did think I should give up. Why, sir, says I, it ll 
 take a load o wood a day, to fill that ere chimney ; and 
 I hate to see a chimney standin empty with two or three 
 sticks a makin believe have a fire in the bottom of it. Be 
 sides, says I, * stoves is a sight cleaner and nicer, Mr Rich 
 mond, and they don t smoke nor nothin , and they re always 
 ready! l I 11 take care of the fire, says he, if you 11 take 
 care of the ashes. Well, it had to be ; but I declare I 
 thought I should have enough to do to take care of the 
 ashes ; a-flyin over everything in the world as they would, 
 and nobody but my two hands to dust with ; but I do be 
 lieve the minister s wood burns quieter than other folks, and 
 somehow it don t fly nor smoke nor nothin , and the room 
 keeps decent. 
 
 " Your whole house is as neat as a pin. But you have no 
 children there to put it out of order, Miss Redwood." 
 
 " Guess we do," said the minister s housekeeper, quietly ; 
 " there ain t any sort o thing in the village but the minister 
 has it in there by turns. There ain t any sort o shoes as 
 walks, not to speak of boots, that don t go over my carpets 
 and floors ; little and big, and brushed and unbrushed. I 
 tell you, Mis Englefield, they re goin in between them 
 two doors all the week long." 
 
 " I don t know how you manage them, I m sure." 
 
 " Well, / don t," said the housekeeper. " The back is 
 fitted to the burden, they say ; and I always did pray that if 
 
24 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 I had work to do, I might be able to do it ; and I always 
 was, somehow. And it s a first-rate place to go and warm 
 your feet, when the minister is out," she added after a pause. 
 
 " What 1" said Mrs Englefield, laughing. 
 
 " The minister s fire, to be sure, that I was talkin about. 
 Of course, I have to go in to see it s safe, when he ain t 
 there ; and sometimes I think it s cheaper to sit down and 
 watch it than to be always runnin ." 
 
 " Mr Eichmond was a lucky man when he got you for a 
 housekeeper," said Mrs Englefield. 
 
 " Well, I don t know," said Miss Redwood, contempla 
 tively, with rather a sweet look on her old face. " I spose 
 I might as well say I was a lucky woman when I got his 
 house to keep. It come all by chance, too, you may 
 say " 
 
 " Mamma, tea is ready," Maria here interrupted. 
 
 " Miss Redwood, will you come down and have tea with 
 us 1" 
 
 " No ; but what I come to ask was somethin different. I 
 was so taken up with my soap-kettle all day, I just forgot 
 somethin more important, and didn t make no new risin ; 
 and I hain t got none to-night for the minister s bread. I 
 know you re one of the folks that likes sweet bread, Mis 
 Englefield, and has it ; and I ve come to beg a cup o your 
 risinV 
 
 One of the girls was sent for the article, and Mrs Engle 
 field went on. 
 
 " The minister s an easy man to live with, I suppose ; isn t 
 he?" 
 
 " What sort do you mean by that, Mrs Englefield ? " 
 
 " Why ! I mean he is easily suited, and don t give more 
 trouble than can be helped, and don t take it hard when 
 things go wrong." 
 
 "Things don t go wrong, fur si know," said Miss Red 
 wood. " Not with him, nor with me." 
 
 " Easily pleased, isn t he 1 " 
 
 " When folks do just what they ought to do, he is," said 
 the housekeeper with some energy. "I have no sort of 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 25 
 
 patience, for my part, with, the folks that are pleased when 
 they hadn t ought to be pleased." 
 
 " But isn t that what Mr Kichmond preaches to us all the 
 time 1 that we ought to be pleased with everybody 1 " 
 
 <( Why, no, mamma ! " said Matilda. 
 
 "I thought he did." 
 
 " I take it t other way," Miss Eedwood observed. " It 
 comes close, it does, some of the minister s talk; but I 
 always think, if I had a right to be better pleased with my 
 self, maybe other folks onesidedness wouldn t worry me. I 11 
 do as much for you, next time, Miss Letty," she said, rising 
 to take what that young lady had brought her. And there 
 with away she went. 
 
 " Well, we have got off with our lives this time," said Mrs 
 Englefield. " Now, girls, let us have tea." 
 
 "Mamma, I believe here they are this minute," said 
 Matilda. " The omnibus is stopping." 
 
 It was declared to be impossible ; but nevertheless found 
 true. The omnibus was certainly at the door, backing down 
 upon the side walk ; and two figures did get out of it and 
 came through the little courtyard to the house. And then 
 all doubts were resolved ; Mrs Candy was in the arms of her 
 sister, and the cousins were looking at each other. 
 
 That is, as soon as people could get their wrappings off. 
 Letty and Maria were assiduous in their endeavours to relieve 
 Miss Clarissa of her hood and furs and the cloakings and 
 mufflings which a night ride had rendered necessary ; while 
 Anne waited upon her aunt ; and impressions were forming 
 and opinions taking ground, under all the confused chatter 
 about the journey, the train, the omnibus, and the City of 
 Pride; opinions and impressions which were likely enough 
 to get turned topsy-turvy in another day or two ; but for the 
 present nobody knew that. 
 
 " And here is somebody who says nothing ! " Mrs Candy 
 remarked, stooping down to touch Matilda s hair with a 
 light finger. 
 
 " Tilly does the thinking for the family," said Mrs Engle 
 field. " Now do come down and have some tea." 
 
26 
 
 " Down 1 Where are we going 1 " said Mrs Candy. " Your 
 house stands on the ground level, I noticed." 
 
 " Oh, we have a very nice basement ; and just for eating, 
 you know, it does not make much difference where you 
 are and it is so much more convenient, being near the 
 kitchen." 
 
 " In Germany we used to take our meals in the open air a 
 great deal," Mrs Candy went on, as the party filed down the 
 narrow stairs. 
 
 " In the open air ! Not at this season ? " 
 
 " Well, not with the thermometer at zero," said Mrs Candy, 
 laughing a little. " Nor at quite so high a temperature as 
 you have here !" 
 
 The room down-stairs was bright enough, and looked 
 cheerful, with its well-spread table and tea-urn ; but it was 
 low, and full of close stove heat. The travellers got as far 
 from the source of this as the limits of the table would let 
 them, and presently begged for an open door. But Mrs 
 Englefield s tea was good ; and very soon the family talk 
 began to move naturally. Mrs Candy pleased her nieces. 
 A fine-looking and also a kind-looking woman, with a good 
 figure, well clothed in a handsome travelling dress ; a gold 
 watch and chain and an easy, good-humoured, and at the 
 same time, sensible air and way of talking. It was not diffi 
 cult to get acquainted with her ; she met all advances more 
 than half way ; and her talk even that first evening was full 
 of amusement and novelty for the young people. It was 
 less easy to know what to think of Clarissa. Her cousins 
 held a consultation about her that night before going to 
 sleep. 
 
 " She looks as old as Letty." 
 
 " But she isn t. Oh, she don t either." 
 
 " She a well looking ; don t you think so ? " 
 
 "I ll tell you what I think," said Matilda. "She s 
 beau-ti-ful." 
 
 " I don t think so," said Letty ; " but she s an uncommon 
 looking girl." 
 
 " How old is she?" 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 27 
 
 " She is sixteen." 
 
 " Well ! Maria s only half a year younger than that." 
 
 " She hasn t said three words yet ; so I cannot tell what 
 she is," Anne remarked. 
 
 " She didn t like going down into the basement," said 
 Letty. 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I know she didn t ! " 
 
 " I should like to know where she would go ; there is no 
 other place," said Maria. 
 
 "I suppose that is just what she didn t like," said 
 Letitia. 
 
 " There might be, though," Matilda began again, 
 mamma would open the back room behind the parlour, and 
 move the table and things up there, I think it would be a 
 great deal pleasanter. ; 
 
 "That s like Matilda!" the other girls exclaimed in 
 chorus. 
 
 "Well, I don t think that basement room is pleasant, 
 said the girl. " I never did. I am always glad to get out 
 of it." 
 
 " And now, I suppose, you will be taking all Jlanssa s 
 dainty ways, in addition to your own ! " said Letitia. " I 
 wonder what will become of the rest of us." 
 
 " What dainty ways has Clarissa?" Matilda inquired. 
 
 " You can see for yourself. She doesn t like the heat of 
 a stove ; and she must look at her watch to see what time 
 it is, though the clock was right opposite to her." 
 
 " I am sure I would look at a watch, if I had it," Matilda 
 
 added. 
 
 " And did you see what travelling gloves she wore ] 
 
 "Why not]" said Matilda. 
 
 " Why not, of course ! you will have no eyes for any one 
 shortly but Clarissa Candy ; I can see it. But she is a mem 
 ber of the Church, isn t she ]" 
 
 "What if she is]" said Matilda. "Mamma read that in 
 one of Aunt Candy s letters, I remember." 
 
 " We ll see what Mr Richmond will say to her. Maria 
 
28 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 reports that lie does not like red flowers ; I wonder what he 
 will think of some other things." 
 
 " That is only Maria s nonsense," Matilda insisted. " I 
 know Mr Richmond likes red flowers ; he has got a red lily 
 in his room." 
 
 " In his room oh yes ! but not in people s bonnets, you 
 know ; nor in their heads ; if they are Christians." 
 
 " I can t imagine what people s being Christians has to do 
 with red flowers," said Matilda. " Besides, Clarissa hadn t 
 any flowers about her at all. I don t know what you are 
 talking of." 
 
 " Didn t you see her gold chain, though, that hung round 
 her neck?" 
 
 " Her watch was on that. Mayn t Christians wear gold 
 chains ? What nonsense you do talk, Letitia ! " 
 
 " I shouldn t want to be a Christian if I thought I couldn t 
 wear anything," Maria remarked. 
 
 " Nor would I," said Letitia. " So I advise you, my dears, 
 to be a little careful how you join Bands and such things. 
 You may find that Mr Kichmond is not just the sort of 
 Christian you want to be." 
 
 The conclave broke up, having reached a termination 
 of general dissatisfaction common to such conclaves. 
 Maria went to bed grumbling. Matilda was as usual 
 silent. 
 
 The next day, however, found all the family as bright as 
 itself. It was a cold day in January ; snow on the ground ; 
 a clear, sharp sunshine glittering from white roofs and fence 
 tops and the banks of snow heaped against the fences, and 
 shining on twigs and branches of the bare trees; coming 
 into houses with its cheery and keen look at everything it 
 found, as if bidding the dark sides of things, and the dusty 
 corners, to change their characters and be light and fair. In 
 the basement the family gathered for breakfast in happy 
 mood, ready to be pleased with each other ; so pleasure was 
 the order of the day. Pleasure had a good deal to feed on, 
 too ; for after the long breakfast was over and the conver 
 sation had adjourned to the parlour, there came the bestow- 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 29 
 
 ing of presents which Clarissa had brought for her friends. 
 And they were so many and so satisfactory, that the criti 
 cisms of the past night were certainly for the present for 
 gotten ; Letitia forgave her cousin her daintiness, and Maria 
 overlooked the gold watch. Matilda as usual said little, 
 beyond the civil, needful words, which that little girl always 
 spoke gracefully. 
 
 " You are a character, my dear, I see," her aunt observed, 
 drawing Matilda to her side caressingly. 
 
 " What is that, Aunt Candy 1 " 
 
 "Well, I don t know, my dear," her aunt answered, laugh 
 ing ; " you put me to define and prove my words, and you 
 bring me into difficulty. I think, however, I shall be safe 
 in saying, that a * character is a person who has his own 
 thoughts." 
 
 " But doesn t everybody ?" 
 
 "Have his own thoughts ? No, my dear; the majority 
 have the thoughts of other people." 
 
 " How can they, Aunt Candy ? " 
 
 11 Just by not thinking for themselves. It saves a great 
 deal of trouble." 
 
 " But we all think for ourselves," said Matilda. 
 
 " Do we 1 Keflect a little. Don t some of you think like 
 other people? about ways of doing, and acting, and dressing, 
 for instance ] " 
 
 " Oh yes. But, Aunt Candy, if people think for them 
 selves, must they do unlike other people ? " 
 
 " If they follow out their thoughts, they must, child." 
 
 " That suits Matilda then," said her sister Anne. 
 
 " Well, it is very nice for a family to have one character in 
 it," said Mrs Candy. 
 
 " But, Aunt Candy, isn t Clarissa a character too ? " 
 
 " I don t know, Tilly ; I really have not found it out, if 
 she is. Up to this time she always thinks as I think. Now 
 she has given you the tokens of remembrance she has brought 
 home for you ; what do you think / have got ?" 
 
 " aunt, nothing more ! " exclaimed Anne. 
 
 " Clarissa and I are two people, if neither of us is a char- 
 
30 
 
 acter, however," said Mrs Candy. " Her gifts are not my 
 gifts. But mine shall be different from hers. And if there 
 is more than one character among us, I should like to find it 
 out ; and this will do it." 
 
 So saying, she fetched out her purse and presented to each 
 of her sister s children a bank-note for twenty-five dollars. 
 
 Mrs Englefield exclaimed and protested. But Mrs Candy 
 laid her hand on her sister s mouth, and declared she must 
 please herself in her own way. 
 
 "What do you want us to do with this, Aunt Candy?" 
 Matilda inquired in a sort of contemplative wonder. 
 
 " Just whatever will please you, will please each of you, 
 best. Only that. That is my condition, girls, if I may call 
 it so. You are not to spend that money for any claims of 
 duty or conscience ; but simply in that way which will afford 
 you the highest pleasure." 
 
 Thanks were warm and gratification very high ; and in 
 the best mood in the world the new relations sat down 
 to talk to each other and study each other for the re 
 mainder of the day. Clarissa pleased her cousins. She was 
 undoubtedly extremely pretty, with big, brown, honest eyes, 
 that gave a good full look into the face she was speaking to; 
 beautiful hair a little lighter in colour, and great sweetness 
 of outline and feature. Yet she was reserved ; very quiet ; 
 very self-possessed to a degree that almost carried an air of 
 superiority in the minds of her cousins. Those large brown 
 eyes of hers would be lifted swiftly to the face of some one 
 speaking, and then go down again, with no sign of agreeing 
 or disagreeing indeed, with no sign of her thought at all ; 
 but she had thoughts of course ; why should she not show 
 them, as her cousins did 1 It was almost supercilious, to 
 the fancy of Anne and Letitia ; Matilda and Maria were 
 fascinated. Then her hands were more delicate than those 
 of Mrs Englefield s children; and there were one or two 
 costly rings on them. Anne and Letty did not understand 
 their value, but nevertheless even they could guess that 
 they belonged to a superior description of jewellery from 
 that which was displayed beneath the glass cases of Mr Kurtz 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 31 
 
 the watchmaker of Shadywalk. Then Clarissa s dress was 
 of fine quality, and made beautifully, and her little gold 
 watch with its chain " put a finish upon it," Anne said. A 
 little hair necklace with a gold clasp was round her neck 
 besides ; and her comb was real tortoise-shell. Clarissa was 
 dainty, there was no doubt; but her sweet mouth was 
 grave and modest ; her words were few ; her manners were 
 very kindly and proper; and her cousins on the whole were 
 obliged to approve her. 
 
32 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "WHAT is all this hurry about?" Clarissa inquired one 
 evening, as they were going down-stairs in answer to the 
 tea-bell ; " why are we earlier than usual ? Anne says we 
 are." 
 
 " Oh, because it is prayer-meeting night no, not prayer- 
 meeting, it isn t either, but our Band-meeting ; and we have 
 to be early for that, you know. Oh, you don t know any 
 thing about our Band ; but you will, to-night. You ll join 
 it, won t you, Clarissa ? " 
 
 " I know something about bands," said Clarissa ; " but I 
 never belonged to one. Is it the custom here for ladies to 
 do such things ? " 
 
 " What things 1 And do you know about bands 1 like ours 1 " 
 
 " I daresay I shall find I have something to learn," said 
 Clarissa. 
 
 " There is a great deal to learn from Mr Richmond, I can 
 tell you," said Maria. " Oh, you don t know Mr Richmond, 
 you haven t seen him, because Sunday was so stormy. 
 " Well, you ll see him to-night." 
 
 " Aunt Englefield," said Clarissa, when they were seated 
 at the tea-table," is your Mr Richmond Band-master as 
 well as clergyman ? " 
 
 " Bands are a mystery to me, Clarissa," said Mrs Engle 
 field ; " I do not understand Maria when she gets upon that 
 subject, I hope you will be able to enlighten me some 
 time. Are you going to-night 1 well, then, I shall hope to 
 be wiser when you return." 
 
 Tea was hurried through, cloaks and furs and hoods and 
 all sorts of wrappings were put on ; and the party set forth , 
 Anne and Letitia this time going along. It was pleasanter 
 out than in. White streets and clear starlight, and still, 
 cold, fine air. About the corner a few men and boys were 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD. * 33 
 
 congregated as usual ; after passing them and turning into 
 the other street, few passengers were to be seen. Here and 
 there one, or a group, making for the lecture-room ; here and 
 there somebody seeking a friend s house for pleasure; nobody 
 was out on business at Shadywalk in the evening, and no 
 waggons or sleighs got belated in the darkness. It would 
 have been very dark, but for the snow and the stars. There 
 were no shop- windows illuminated, and no lamps along the 
 street and no gas anywhere. Past the shut-up houses and 
 stores, in the dim, snowy streets, the little cluster of girls 
 went swiftly on. 
 
 " You are in a great hurry," said Clarissa. 
 
 " Oh, we want to get there before anything begins," Maria 
 said. " And it s cold besides ! " 
 
 " What church is this we are passing ? " 
 
 " Oh, this is our church. You haven t seen it. It is real 
 nice inside." 
 
 " Not outside ? " said Clarissa. " Well, I cannot see it in 
 this light. And is that next place the one we are going to? " 
 
 " Yes, that s our lecture-room. That s very nice." 
 
 So it was. Pleasant light from withinside streamed warm 
 through the hanging window-blinds of the long windows, 
 and promised welcome before they got in. At the door, 
 under the projecting hood, a lamp shone bright upon the 
 entrance steps. People were flocking in. The opening door 
 let them into a cheerful room, not large, with long rows of 
 seats on either hand of a wide, matted aisle ; the view closed 
 by ft little desk at the farther end on a raised platform. 
 Right and left of the desk, two small transepts did somewhat 
 to enlarge the accommodations of the place, which had a 
 cozy, home look, comfortable and bright. 
 
 " Where do these doors lead to ? " Clarissa whispered ; 
 "behind the desk?" 
 
 " Oh, those open to the infant class room. Isn t it nice ? * 
 Maria answered. 
 
 " It is small," said Clarissa. 
 
 "It is large enough, though. We shall not fill it to-night." 
 
 And they did not. There was only a little company 
 
 c 
 
34 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 gathered, of various ages. Some quite grown people ; many 
 who were younger. They had drawn towards the upper end 
 of the room, and clustered near the platform. 
 
 " There is Mr Richmond," Maria whispered, presently ; 
 " do you see him ? he is up there near the desk talking to Mr 
 Barker, Mr Barker is one of our teachers, but he has got 
 nothing to do with the Band. That is Mrs Trembleton, isn t 
 she pretty ? sitting down there in front ; she always sit" 
 just there, if she can, and I have seen her ever so put out 
 if she couldn t when somebody else had got it, you know. 
 And there " 
 
 " But, Maria," whispered Clarissa, gravely, " do you think 
 it is quite proper to whisper so in church ? " 
 
 " This isn t church ! " Maria replied, with great readiness. 
 
 "What then ?" 
 
 " Why, it is only our Sunday-schoolroom ; and this is a 
 Band meeting." 
 
 " It looks very like church to me," said Clarissa. t{ Hush ! 
 don t whisper any more." 
 
 For the minister now took his stand at the little desk 
 before mentioned ; and even Maria was quiet enough during 
 the prayer with which he began the proceedings. But then 
 Mr Richmond came in front of the desk, and began to speak 
 seriously indeed, but with an easy simplicity which Clarissa 
 thought was " not like church." 
 
 "It may not be known to everybody present," Mr 
 Richmond began, " exactly what was done at our last 
 meeting here on Thursday night. I wish it to be very well 
 understood, that every one may join with us in the action 
 we took, intelligently ; or keep away from it, intelligently. 
 I wish it to be thoroughly understood. We simply pledged 
 ourselves, some of us who were here on Thursday night, to 
 live and work for Christ to the best and the utmost of our 
 ability, as He would give us grace to do. We pledged 
 ourselves to each other and to our Master ; to the end that 
 we might the better help each other, being so pledged ; and 
 that we might enter into some system and plan of work by 
 which we might accomplish much more than we could hope 
 
35 
 
 to do without plan or system. I have a list in my hand of 
 various kinds of work which it may be well for us to 
 attempt ; some kinds will suit some people, and other kinds 
 will suit other people ; but before we go into a consideration 
 of these, I will read something else to you. We must do 
 this thing we must enter into this pledge to God and 
 each other, those of us who enter into it, knowing exactly 
 what we do, and if possible, why we do it. I have drawn. 
 up in a few words what we mean, or what we ought to 
 mean, in giving this pledge ; and now I am going to read it 
 to you ; and after I have read it I shall ask all of you who 
 have heard it and agreed to it, to rise up, without any 
 regard to the question whether you were among those who 
 rose last Thursday or not. I wish no one to stand who 
 does not fully and intelligently agree to every word of this 
 covenant ; but I hope that will be the case with every one 
 of you all. The children can understand it as well as the 
 grown people. This is the covenant : 
 
 " * We are the servants of Christ. 
 
 " And as He died for all, that they which live should 
 not live unto themselves but unto Him ; so we do not 
 count ourselves to belong to ourselves. We are the Lord s. 
 
 " We want to do all we can do, that would please Him 
 and honour Him, whether it be in our own hearts or in the 
 world. 
 
 " So we stand ready to do His will ; in telling the good 
 news to others ; in showing how precious we hold it ; in 
 carrying help of every sort to our neighbour, upon every 
 opportunity ; walking as children of the Light ; if by any 
 means we may advance our Lord s kingdom and glory. 
 
 " And all this we will try to do, by His help, trusting 
 in His grace and resting in His promises, whose word can 
 not fail. 
 
 " Now," said Mr Richmond, when he had read this, which 
 he read very slowly and deliberately, as if he wished that 
 every one should weigh every word, " I am going to ask you 
 to rise and so declare your agreement with this covenant 
 all of you who have heard and understood it, and who are 
 
3G 
 
 ready to pledge yourselves to its responsibilities. Every 
 one whose own mind and wish this covenant expresses will 
 please rise." 
 
 The little stir which this request occasioned through the 
 room, left few of the assembly in their seats. Maria, as soon 
 as she was upon her feet, looked to see how it was with her 
 companions. To her great satisfaction, Clarissa was stand 
 ing beside her ; but Anne and Letitia were sitting in their 
 places, and so was Matilda in hers beyond them. Maria 
 frowned and nodded at her, but Mr Richmond had desired 
 the people to sit down again before these signs could take 
 any effect. 
 
 " It is as I hoped," Mr Richmond said in a satisfied voice. 
 " I have no alteration to make in my lists, beyond the 
 addition of one or two new names ; and that sort of alter 
 ation I shall be glad to make whenever people will let me. 
 I will receive new names at any time, of those who wish to 
 join our Band our Working Band. I do not know what 
 we shall call ourselves ; but one thing is certain, we mean to 
 be a working people. Now, suppose we see what kinds of 
 work we are prepared to undertake each one of us in par 
 ticular. Of course, we are all to do all we can, and of all 
 kinds ; but there are some kinds of work that each one can 
 do better than he can do others ; and to those particular 
 lines of effort each one will pledge himself to give special 
 attention. 
 
 " The first thing on my list is 
 
 " Bringing neiv scholars to the school! Who will take this 
 as his special work 1 Observe, it is not meant that you 
 should ask any children to come to our school who are 
 already members of some other school. We do not wish 
 that. But who will undertake to look out and bring in 
 some of the children that go nowhere ? All who want to 
 do this, raise your hands." 
 
 There was a show of hands. 
 
 " We must have a secretary," said Mr Richmond. " Mr 
 Van Dyke, here is paper and ink ; will you kindly come and 
 write for us ? We want to put down all the names that 
 
37 
 
 enlist in this department of work. This is Number One. 
 Put down, opposite to Number One, Mattie Van Dyke, 
 Willie Edwards, Mary Edwards, Maria Englefield." 
 
 Mr Richmond went on giving the names until some eight 
 or ten were registered. The children looked delighted. It 
 was great doings. 
 
 The next thing on Mr Richmond s list was the " School- 
 singing^ He explained that he wished the special attention 
 of those who could give it to this matter ; that they should 
 always stand ready to help the singing in the Sunday-school, 
 and make it just as good as it could be, and keep it good; 
 that they should not wait for others, if there was no one to 
 lead, but start the hymn themselves and carry it through 
 with spirit. 
 
 There were not so many that pledged themselves to this 
 work ; but, as before, Maria was one. 
 
 The third thing was " Welcoming strangers and new 
 scholars" in the church and in the school. Here a breeze 
 sprung up. Mr Richmond had remarked upon the great 
 importance of this duty and the common neglect of it; 
 nevertheless there seemed to be some prospect that the 
 neglect would continue. Mrs Trembleton asked, " How 
 were such strangers to be welcomed ? " 
 
 " What would you like yourself, Mrs Trembleton 1 Sup 
 pose you were to go to a strange church, where you knew 
 nobody. Would it be pleasant to have some one come up 
 and take your hand and say you were welcome ] and give 
 you a greeting when you met on the street ? perhaps come 
 to see you 1 " 
 
 " I think," said Mrs Trembleton, after a pause, " it would 
 depend a good deal on who it was did it ! " 
 
 " Whether it would be pleasant ? " said Mr Richmond, 
 smiling. " But you do not doubt that it would be pleasant 
 to any stranger to have you come up and speak and shake 
 hands, and do such offices of kindness ? " 
 
 "It might be pleasant to them," said Mrs Trembleton. 
 " I don t think I should like to do it to everybody." 
 
 " What do you say, Miss Benyon ? " Mr Richmond asked. 
 
38 
 
 " Oh, I couldn t, Mr Richmond ! " the young lady an 
 swered, shrinking. 
 
 " I 11 do it," spoke out one of the boys. 
 
 " George Lockwood will welcome strangers, Mr Van 
 Dyke, ; said the minister. " And Willie Edwards holds up 
 his hand, and Ben Barth. But shall we have none but the 
 boys to do the welcoming ? The new scholars will not be 
 all boys. Ah ! there is Miss Peach ; Ellen Peach, Mr Van 
 Dyke ; and Maria Englefield, and Sarah Bent." 
 
 " Won t it make confusion in the school? " Mr Van Dyke 
 suggested. 
 
 " Will not what make confusion 1 " 
 
 " Why, if half-a-dozen scholars are jumping up and leav 
 ing their classes, to receive somebody who is coming in ? " 
 
 " I did not say that they should choose lesson time or 
 school time at all for their kind civilities. After school is 
 over or when meeting in the street or going into church. 
 Opportunities will present themselves. It is rather the will 
 that seems to be wanting than the way." 
 
 " It seems to me," spoke out another lady, " this welcom 
 ing of strangers is everybody s business." 
 
 " Proverbially nobody s business, Miss Fitch," Mr Rich 
 mond answered with a smile. " You will leave it for me to 
 do ; and I shall conclude that Mrs Trembleton will attend 
 to it ; Mrs Trembleton does not like the charge ; and there 
 we are. Esther, what do you say ? " 
 
 " Oh, I should not like to do it, Mr Richmond ! " 
 
 Nobody seemed to like to do it. Some were shy ; some 
 were humble, or thought they were; some fancied them 
 selves of too little consequence; some of too much! Mr 
 Richmond went on to the next thing, which was " Temper 
 ance Work" Here there was no want of volunteers. Boys 
 and girls and young ladies, and even men, were ready to 
 pledge themselves to this cause. The names were many. 
 It took some time to get them all down. 
 
 Then came what Mr Richmond s list called "Aid and 
 Comfort;" and which he explained to mean, the giving of all 
 sorts of material and social aid that the cases of sick and 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 39 
 
 poor and distressed might call for. Anybody who would 
 visit such cases, and provide or procure what they needed, 
 or anybody unable to visit who would furnish the necessary 
 supplies if called upon, might be enrolled on this committee. 
 Plenty of people were ready for this. 
 
 " Visiting absent scholars " found quite a number willing to 
 engage in it. The cause of " Missionary Collections " and 
 " Sunday-school prayer-meetings " found but few ; evidently 
 those were not popular objects. "Promoting attendance 
 upon church" did not meet with much favour. The tenth 
 department of work was " Carrying the Message." This Mr 
 Richmond explained to mean, the telling the good news of 
 Christ to all who have not heard or who do not accept it ; 
 to everybody we can reach, at home and abroad, wherever 
 we may. There were not a few who were ready to pledge 
 themselves to this; as also to " j5i 6e Reading" in houses 
 where sickness or poverty or ignorance made such work 
 desirable. But " Tract Distributing" which one would have 
 thought a very kindred effort with the two last, was much 
 more cautiously undertaken. Some boys were ready for it ; 
 a few girls ; very few grown-up people of either sex. 
 
 The young people of Mrs Englefield s family walked home 
 more silently than they had come. To be sure, there was 
 a little throng of persons going their way ; they could not 
 speak in private. So under the still, bright stars, they went 
 home without telling any of their thoughts to each other. 
 But perhaps the air was chilly after coming out of the 
 heated lecture- room ; for they all poured into the parlour 
 to get warm, before going up-stairs to take off their things. 
 
 " Well, you are late," Mrs Englefield said. 
 
 " Yes ; but we had, oh, such a nice meeting ! " Maria 
 answered. 
 
 " What was it all about ? Now, I hope, we shall get at 
 some light on the subject." 
 
 But the light was not in a hurry to come. Anne and 
 Letitia loosened their bonnet strings, and sat down ; Maria 
 and Matilda threw off their cloaks and hoods and sought 
 the fire ; nobody volunteered to be spokesman for the party. 
 
40 
 
 " What was done, Clarissa 1 " her mother asked. 
 
 " I can hardly tell, mamma. A sort of association formed, 
 for doing parish work." 
 
 " I do not think much of associations," Mrs Candy said. 
 " People can work just as well in private, if they would only 
 be content. Did you join this association 1 " 
 
 " What is parish work, Clarissa 1 " Matilda asked. 
 
 " Why, work in the parish, of course," Mrs Englefield 
 answered. 
 
 " I don t know what the parish is, mamma 1 " 
 
 " Don t you 1 Well, all the people that Mr Richmond 
 has the care of, I suppose ; isn t it, sister 1 " 
 
 " But who has he the care of ? " Matilda persisted, looking 
 up at her mother earnestly. 
 
 " Well, child," said Mrs Englefield, half laughing, " in 
 a sort, he has the care of all the people he preaches to." 
 
 " Does he 1 " said Matilda. But at that the laugh became 
 general. 
 
 " Why not, Tilly 1 " said Mrs Candy. 
 
 " Who gave him the care of us 1 " said Matilda, thought 
 fully. 
 
 " A minister always has the care of a church when he has 
 a church," said Mrs Candy. " Is this Tilly s way of going 
 into things in general, Marianne ? " 
 
 " But," said Matilda, " can anybody take a church and 
 take care of people, if he has a mind ? " 
 
 " No ; only a man who has been properly educated and 
 appointed." 
 
 " Then how comes he to have the care of us 1 " 
 
 " Come here, Tilly," said Clarissa. And she began a 
 whispered explanation, to which the little girl listened in 
 tently. 
 
 " I do not hear yet what was the business done to-night ? " 
 Mrs Englefield went on. 
 
 " Why, there were committees formed," said Letitia, " for 
 doing every sort of business under heaven." 
 
 " Committees ! " said the two ladies who had stayed at 
 home. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 41 
 
 " Maria can tell you," said Anne. " Maria, on how many 
 committees are you ? " 
 
 Maria hugged the fire and did not answer. 
 
 " On how many, Maria ? " 
 
 " I don t know. I didn t count." 
 
 " I lost count, too," her sister said. " Let me see. Mamma, 
 Maria has undertaken to find and bring in new scholars for 
 the school." 
 
 "I hope she will be punctual in going herself, then," said 
 Mrs Englefield. " She hasn t been this six months past, to 
 my knowledge." 
 
 " Oh, but I am now, mamma," said Maria. 
 
 " She has undertaken to practise for the school singing." 
 
 " I didn t," said Maria. " I only said I would help in it." 
 
 " Your help will not be worth much without practising. 
 She has promised to undertake temperance work, too. How 
 she will manage it, I do not know ; unless she is going to 
 begin upon us here at home. We are all such hard drinkers." 
 
 " Almost all the Sunday-school are engaged to help in 
 temperance work," said Maria, standing on her defence. 
 
 " How are you going to do anything 1 " her mother asked 
 " You have neither brothers, nor father, nor cousins, in 
 danger, that you can go to work upon them. What are you 
 going to do, Maria I " 
 
 "That is but the beginning, mamma," Anne went on. 
 " Maria is also engaged to visit the sick and afflicted, and 
 make soup and give medicine for them." 
 
 " Why, I did not, Anne ! " Maria exclaimed again. 
 
 " What did you mean, then, by joining the Aid and Com 
 fort committee 1 " 
 
 "I did not say I would make soup, or give medicine. 
 Everybody does not make soup." 
 
 "No; and so I thought that is just what the Aid and 
 Comfort committee agreed to do." 
 
 "And the doctors give the medicine," said Matilda. 
 " Clarissa is on that committee too." 
 
 "We can go together," said Maria; "and we can find 
 something to do." 
 
42 
 
 "Something for somebody else to do," said Anne. "You 
 can find who would like some soup, can t you ? " 
 
 "There are next to no poor people in Shady walk," said 
 Mrs Englefield. " I don t believe there is anybody in the 
 village who would like some soup better than I should." 
 
 " There are several doctors," said Anne ; " so I am afraid 
 there are sick people occasionally. Else the doctors will soon 
 be in want of soup. But, mamma, that is not the whole of 
 Maria s engagements. She has pledged herself to carry the 
 message, read the Bible, and distribute tracts." 
 
 " Don t you read the Bible now, Maria ? " her mother asked. 
 
 " Oh yes, mamma," said Matilda. "This means reading 
 the Bible to somebody who is blind, you know, or sick and 
 can t read, or who doesn t know how." 
 
 " There are no such people in Shadywalk," said Mrs 
 Englefield, promptly. 
 
 " Shadywalk is a happy village then," said her sister. 
 
 "When do you expect to find time for all these things, 
 Maria ? " her mother continued. " Do you know what a state 
 your bureau drawers are in at this minute ? You told me 
 you had been too busy to attend to them. And the frock 
 that you spilt the ink on, the week before last, at school, you 
 have not mended ; and you need it and you said you could 
 not get a minute." 
 
 " I have been busy about something else, mamma," Maria 
 said. 
 
 "That braiding. Yes. But there is always something 
 else. There are other things that ought to begin at home 
 besides charity. Do you belong to this association, Matilda?" 
 
 " No, mamma," came in a low voice from the child. 
 
 " Why not 1 " 
 
 The answer was not ready. 
 
 " Have you joined it, Clarissa ? " her mother asked. 
 
 " Yes, mamma." 
 
 " And what have you pledged yourself to do ? " 
 
 "I think nothing, mamma, that I was not properly pledged 
 to before." 
 
 " Such as what ? " 
 
43 
 
 " I gave my name for the visiting and helping sick and 
 poor people ; for the singing in the school ; I believe that 
 is all, mamma." 
 
 " I shall not let you go where there is sickness," said Mrs 
 Candy. " When did you pledge yourself to that ever ? " 
 
 " When I took the vows of the Church, mamma," Clarissa 
 said, with a little hesitation, " I suppose I engaged to do 
 some of these things." 
 
 " Some of them ; I have no objection to your singing as 
 much as you like; but as to your going where there are 
 fevers and bad air, and all that sort of thing, I should not 
 be willing at all." 
 
 " There will not be much occasion for it in Shadywalk," 
 said Mrs Englefield. " We have few poor people ; there are 
 not many who have not friends of their own to take care of 
 them." 
 
 "Anne and Letitia, you have nothing to do with all this? " 
 their aunt asked. 
 
 " I have enough to do as it is, Aunt Candy," said Anne. 
 
 " And I don t like the new sorts of work, Aunt Eraiinia," 
 said Letitia. 
 
 " I know you wanted to stand up with us this evening, 
 though," said Maria. " You felt bad because you didn t." 
 
 This remark threatened to disturb the harmony of the 
 party ; so Mrs Englefield broke it up, and sent everybody to 
 bed. 
 
 " How do you like our Mr Eichmond, Clarissa ? " she 
 asked, as they were separating. 
 
 "I don t know, Aunt Marianne; it struck me he was some 
 thing of an enthusiast." 
 
 " That is just what I think," said Mrs Englefield. 
 
 " Those people are dangerous, Marianne," said Mrs 
 Candy. 
 
44 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 THE next day but one, in the afternoon, a little figure set 
 out from Mrs Englefield s gate on a solitary expedition. 
 She had left her sisters and cousin in high debate, over 
 the various probabilities of pleasure attainable through the 
 means of twenty-five dollars. Matilda listened gravely for 
 a while ; then left them, put on her hood and cloak, and went 
 out alone. It was rather late in the short winter afternoon ; 
 the slanting sunbeams made a gleam of cheer, though it was 
 cold cheer too, upon the snowy streets. They stretched 
 away, the white streets, heaped with banks of snow where 
 the gutters should be, overhung with brown branches of 
 trees, where in summer the leafy canopy made a pleasant 
 shade all along the way. No sliade was wanted now; the 
 air was growing more keen already since the sun had got so 
 far down in the west. Tilly turned the corner, where by Mr 
 Forshew s hardware shop there was often a country waggon 
 standing, and always a knot of loitering men and boys 
 gathering or retailing the news, if there was any ; when 
 there was none, seeking a poorer amusement still in stories 
 and jests, mingled with profanity and tobacco. Tilly was 
 always glad to have passed the corner ; not that there was 
 the least danger of incivility from any one lingering there, 
 but she did not like the neighbourhood of such people. She 
 turned up towards the church, which stood in one of the 
 principal streets of the village. Matilda herself lived in the 
 other principal street. The two were at right angles to each 
 other, each extending perhaps half a mile, with comfortable 
 houses standing along the way; about the "corner" they 
 stood close together, for that was the business quarter, and 
 there were the stores. Passing the stores and shops, there 
 came next a succession of dwelling-houses, some of more 
 and some of less pretension j in general it was less. The new 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 45 
 
 houses of the successful tradesmen were for the most part 
 in the street where Matilda s mother lived. These were 
 many of them old and low ; some were poor. Here there 
 was a doctor s shop ; there a heap of dingy sheep skins and 
 brown calf hides cast down at a door, told of the leather 
 store ; here and there hung out a milliner s sign. A few 
 steps farther on the other side of the way, a great brick 
 factory stood ; Matilda had no very distinct notion of what 
 wares it turned out, but the children believed they were iron 
 works of some sort. A cross street here led to side ways 
 which extended parallel with the main thoroughfare, one on 
 the north and one on the south of it, and which, though 
 more scatteringly built up, were yet a considerable enlarge 
 ment of the village. A little farther on, and Matilda had 
 reached the church ; in her language the church, though only 
 one of several in which the villagers delighted. A great 
 creamy-brown edifice, of no particular style of architecture, 
 with a broad porch upheld by a row of big pillars, and a 
 little square tower where hung a bell, declared to be the 
 sweetest and clearest of all in the neighbourhood. So, many 
 thought, were the utterances inside the church. Just be 
 yond, Matilda could see the lecture-room, with its tran 
 septs, and its pretty hood over the door, for all which and 
 sundry other particulars concerning it she had a private 
 favour ; but Matilda did not go so far this afternoon. Short 
 of the lecture-room, a gate in the fence of the church grounds 
 stood open ; a large gate, through which waggons and car 
 riages sometimes passed ; Matilda turned in there, and picked 
 her way over the ridgy snow down the lane that led to the 
 parsonage. 
 
 The parsonage sat thus quietly back from the sights and 
 noises of the street; a little brown house, it looked, half 
 hidden in summer by the sweeping foliage of the elms that 
 overarched the little lane ; half sheltered now in winter by 
 a goodly pine-tree that stood in the centre of the little plot 
 of grass round which swept the road to the front-door. 
 Wheels or runners had been there, for the road was tracked 
 with them ; but not many, for the villagers needed no such 
 
46 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 help to get to the minister, and there were few of the 
 church people who lived at a distance and could leave their 
 work and take their teams on a week-day to come a-plea- 
 suring ; and still fewer who were rich enough to do as they 
 liked at all times. There were some ; but Matilda ran little 
 risk of meeting them ; and so mounted the parsonage steps 
 and lifted the knocker with no more than her own private 
 reasons for hesitation, whatever those might be. She 
 knocked, however, and steps came within, and Miss Red 
 wood opened the door. 
 
 "Well !" she said, "here s the first one this blessed after 
 noon. I thought I was going to get along for once without 
 any one ; but such luck don t come to me. Wipe the snow 
 off, dear, will you, clean 1 for my hall s as nice as well, I 
 don t know what ; as nice as it had ought to be. That will 
 do. Now, come in, for the air s growin right sharp. What 
 is it, my dear 1 " 
 
 " Is Mr Richmond at home 1 " Matilda asked. 
 
 " Well, I s pose he is. I hain t hearn him nor seen him go 
 out since noon. Do ye want to see him, or is it a message 1 
 ye want to see him, eh ? Well, I s pose he ll see you if 
 he ain t too busy and I don t know when he gets time for 
 all he has to do, but he gets it ; so I s pose I had ought to 
 be satisfied. 7 don t, I know ; but I s pose men and women 
 is different. Some folks would say that s a reason why men 
 was created the first and the best ; but I don t think so my 
 self. And here I am an old goose, a-talkin to little Tilly 
 Englefield about philosophy, instead o lettin her into the 
 minister s room. Well, come in, dear ; round this way ; the 
 minister has taken a notion to keep that door shut up 
 because of the cold." 
 
 Miss Redwood had not been idle during the utterance of 
 this speech. First she had been shaking the snow from the 
 door mat on which Matilda s feet had left it ; then she seized 
 a broom and brushed the white masses from the hall carpet 
 out to the piazza, and even off the painted boards of that. 
 Finally came in, shut the door, and led Matilda to the back 
 of the hall, where it turned, and two doors, indeed three, con- 
 
47 
 
 fronted eacli otner across a yard of intervening space. The 
 housekeeper knocked at the one which led into the front 
 room ; then set it open for Matilda to go in, and closed it 
 after her. 
 
 A pleasant room that was, though nothing in the world 
 could be more unadorned. Deal shelves all around were 
 filled with books ; a table or two were piled with them; one, 
 before the fire, was filled as well with papers and writing 
 materials. This fronted, however, a real blazing fire, the 
 very thing Miss Redwood had once been so uneasy about ; 
 in a wide open chimney- place, where two great old-fashioned 
 brass andirons with round heads held a generous load of 
 oak and hickory sticks, softly snapping and blazing. The 
 sweet smell of the place struck Matilda s sense, almost before 
 she saw the minister. It was a pure, quiet, scented atmos 
 phere that the room held ; where comfort and study seemed 
 to lurk in the very folds of the chintz window-curtains, and 
 to shine in the firelight, and certainly seemed to fill Mr 
 Richmond s arm-chair even when he was not in it. He rose 
 out of it now to meet his little visitor, and laid study on the 
 table. Of one sort. 
 
 "All s well at home, Tilly ? " he asked, as he put her into 
 his own chair. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " And you do not come to me with any message but to see 
 me yourself 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " That s nice. Now while you are talking to me, I will 
 roast you an apple." 
 
 Matilda looked on with great curiosity and as great a 
 sense of relief, while Mr Richmond took out of a cupboard 
 a plate of apples, chose a fine one with a good bit of stem, 
 tied a long pack-thread to this, and then hung the apple by 
 a loop at the other end of the string, to a hook in the wood 
 work over the fireplace. The apple, suspended in front of 
 the blazing fire, began a succession of swift revolutions ; first 
 in one direction and then in the other, as the string twisted 
 or untwisted. 
 
48 
 
 " Did you ever roast an apple so 1 " 
 
 "No, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " It is the best way in the world when you haven t got 
 any other." 
 
 "We haven t got that way at our house," said Matilda ; 
 " for we have no fires ; nothing but stoves." 
 
 " You speak as if you thought fires were the best plan of 
 the two." 
 
 " Oh, I do, Mr Richmond ! I do not like stoves at all 
 They re so close." 
 
 "I always thought stoves were rather close," said Mr 
 Richmond. " Now what did you come to see me roast apples 
 for this afternoon ? Did you come to keep your promise V 
 
 tf Yes, sir," Matilda answered, rather faintly. 
 
 " Are you sorry you made the promise ? ; Mr Richmond 
 inquired, looking at her. But the look was so pleasant, that 
 Matilda s could not keep its solemnity. She had come in 
 with a good deal. 
 
 " I don t know but I was sorry," she said. 
 
 " And you are not sorry now 1 " 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 " That is all the better. Now what did you want to say 
 to me, Matilda 1 " 
 
 "You know you made me say I would come, Mr Rich 
 mond." 
 
 " Did I ? I think not. I do not think I made you say 
 anything do you think I did ? " 
 
 " Well, you asked me, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " Just what did I ask you ?" 
 
 " You asked me, if I would come and tell you you said 
 you vrished I would come and tell you if " 
 
 And Matilda made a great pause. The eyes of her friend 
 seemed only to be watching the apple, yet perhaps they knew 
 that her little lips were unsteady and were trying to get 
 steady. He left his seat to attend to the roast ; got a plate 
 and put on the hearth under it ; arranged the fire ; then 
 came and with his own hands removed Matilda s hood and 
 loosened and threw back her cloak ; and while he did this 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 49 
 
 he repeated his question, in tones that were encouragement 
 itself. 
 
 "I wished you would come and tell me if if whaU" 
 
 " Yes, Mr Richmond if I thought I could not do some 
 thing that I thought I ought." 
 
 " Yes, I believe that was it, Tilly. Now, to begin with 
 one thing at a time, what do you think you ought to do 1" 
 
 " Last night, I mean, Mr Richmond ; I mean, the night 
 before last, at the meeting." 
 
 "I know. Well, what did you think then you ought to do ?" 
 
 " Mr Richmond, I think, I thought that I ought to rise 
 up when Maria and the others did." 
 
 "I knew you thought so. Why did you not, then, 
 Matilda ? " 
 
 "I couldn t." 
 
 " Do you know why you could not ? " 
 
 Again there was difficulty of speech on the child s part. 
 Mr Richmond s saying that " he knew " she had had such 
 feelings, was an endorsement to her conscience ; and Matilda 
 could not immediately get over a certain swelling in her 
 throat, which threatened to put a stop to the conversation. 
 The minister waited, and she struggled. 
 
 tf Why could you not do what the others did, Matilda It " 
 
 " Mr Richmond I didn t want to do the things." 
 
 "What things? Bringing new scholars to the Sunday- 
 school, for instance 1 " 
 
 " Oh no, sir, I wouldn t mind doing that, or some other 
 things either. But " 
 
 " You mean, you do not want to pledge yourself to be a 
 servant of the Lord Jesus Christ ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; " after a pause, and low. 
 
 " Well, Tilly," said the minister, " I can only be very sorry 
 for you. You keep yourself out of a great joy." 
 
 " But, Mr Richmond," said Matilda, down whose cheeks 
 quiet tears were now running, one after another ; " don t you 
 think I am very young yet to be a member of the Church ?" 
 
 "Do you think Jesus died for you, Tilly ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 D 
 
50 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " Do you believe He loves you now 1 " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " You understand all about that. Does He want you to be 
 His obedient child and dear servant ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr Bichmond." 
 
 " You know all about that, too. Can you think of any 
 reason why you should for another year refuse to love Him, 
 refuse to mind Him, and do all that your example and in 
 fluence can do to keep others from loving and minding Him, 
 when He so loves and has loved you ? " 
 
 Tilly s little hands went up to her face now, and the room 
 was very still ; only the flames softly flickering in the fire 
 place, and the apple sputtering before the fire. Mr Richmond 
 did not say a word for several minutes. 
 
 " Mr Richmond," said Matilda at last, " do you think 
 anybody cares what I do ? when I am so little ] " 
 
 " I think the Lord Jesus cares. He said nobody was to 
 hinder the little children from coming to Him. And I 
 would rather be in His arms and have Him bless me, if I 
 were you, than be anywhere else, or have anything else. 
 And so would you, Tilly." 
 
 " But, Mr Richmond it is because I am not good." 
 
 " Yes, I know it. But that is a reason for giving yourself 
 to the Lord Jesus. He will make you good ; and there is 
 no other way." 
 
 But Tilly s trouble at this got beyond management. She 
 left her seat and came to Mr Richmond, letting his arm 
 draw her up to him, and dropping her head on his shoulder. 
 
 " Mr Richmond," she said "I don t know how ! " 
 
 " Don t know how to give yourself to Jesus 1 Do it in 
 your heart, Tilly. He is there. Tell Him He may have 
 you for His own child. He is at the door of your heart 
 knocking ; open the door and bid Him come in. He will 
 make it a glad place if you do." 
 
 "Mr Richmond," said the child, with great difficulty 
 between her sobs " won t you tell Him that I will ? " 
 
 They kneeled down and the minister made a short prayer. 
 But then he said 
 
" Thrm. with her little hands spread before her face, she said very slowly, 
 . i, I am a nausrhty child. 1 want to be good. " P. SO. 
 
51 
 
 " Now, Tilly, I want you to tell the Lord yourself." 
 " I can t, Mr Richmond." 
 " I think you can. And I want you to try." 
 They waited and waited. Tilly sobbed softly, but the 
 minister waited still. At last Tilly s tears ceased ; then 
 with her little hands spread before her face, she said very 
 slowly 
 
 " O Lord, I am a naughty child. I want to be good. I 
 I will do everything that you tell me. Please take my 
 heart and make it all new, and help me to be strong and do 
 right. Amen." 
 
 They rose up, but Mr Richmond kept the child within 
 his arm, where she had been standing. 
 
 "Now, Tilly, how do we know that our prayers are 
 heard ? " 
 
 " God has promised, hasn t He, Mr Richmond ? " 
 
 "Where? in what words ?" 
 
 Tilly hesitated, and then repeated part of the verse, " Ask, 
 and it shall be given you. Seek, and ye shall find." 
 
 "And look here," said Mr Richmond, half turning, so as 
 to bring her and himself within reach of the Bible that lay 
 at his elbow on the table " see here, Matilda. Read these 
 words." 
 
 " If ye shall ask anything in My name, I will do it. " 
 
 "And here," 
 
 " Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My name, He 
 will give it you. " 
 
 " Does Jesus ever break His promises ? " 
 
 " No, Mr Richmond ; He can t." 
 
 "Then remember that, whenever you think of to-day, and 
 whenever you feel troubled or weak. You are weak, but He 
 is strong ; and He cannot break His promises. So you and I 
 are safe, as long as we hold to Him." 
 
 There was silence a little while, and Mr Richmond set the 
 apple to twirling again. It had untwisted its string and was 
 hanging still. 
 
 " I am to put your name now, I suppose, Tilly, among 
 the names of our Band ; am I ? " 
 
52 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " Yes, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " What work would you like specially to do ? " 
 
 " I do not know, Mr Richmond ; I will think." 
 
 " Very well ; that is right. And there is another place 
 where your name ought to go is there not 1 " 
 
 11 1 don t know, sir." 
 
 " Yes ; among those who desire to be members of the 
 Church ; to tell the world they are Christ s people." 
 
 " Oh no, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " Why oh no, Mr Richmond ? " 
 
 " I am not good enough. I want to be better first." 
 
 " How do you expect to get better ? " 
 
 Silence. 
 
 " I suppose your thought is, that Jesus will make your 
 heart new, as you asked Him just now, and help you to be 
 strong. Is that it ? Yes. And you do not expect to accom 
 plish the change or grow strong by your own power 1 n 
 
 " Oh no, sir." 
 
 " Don t you think Jesus loves you now as well as He will 
 by and by, and is as ready to help you 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " Then, Tilly, I call it just distrust of Him, to hold off 
 from what He commands you to do, for fear He will not 
 help you to do it. I would be ashamed to offer such an ex 
 cuse to Him." 
 
 " But has He commanded that, Mr Richmond ? " 
 
 " He has commanded us to confess openly that we are His 
 servants, hasn t He ? and to be baptized in token of the 
 change He has wrought in us, and as a sign that we belong 
 to Him ? How can we do either the one or the other with 
 out joining the Church ? " 
 
 " I thought " Matilda began, but seemingly did not like 
 to tell what she had thought. 
 
 " Let us have it, Tilly," said her friend, drawing her closer 
 to him. " You and I are talking confidentially, and it is 
 best in those cases to talk all out. So what did you 
 think ? " 
 
 " I thought there were people who were the servants of 
 
53 
 
 Christ, and yet did not join any church," Matilda said 
 softly. 
 
 " By not doing it, they as good as say to the world that 
 they are not His servants. And the world judges accord 
 ingly. I have known people under such a delusion ; but 
 when they were honest I have always known them to come 
 out of it. If you give all you have to the Lord Jesus, you 
 must certainly give your influence." 
 
 " But I thought I might wait," Tilly said again. 
 
 " Till when ? " 
 
 " I don t know," she whispered. 
 
 " Wait for what ? " 
 
 " Till I was more like what I ought to be, Mr Rich 
 mond." 
 
 " Till you were more like the Lord Jesus 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Do you not think the quickest way to grow like Him 
 would be to do and obey every word He says ?" 
 
 Matilda bowed her head a little. 
 
 " You will be more likely to grow good and strong that 
 way than any other ; and I am sure the Lord will be more 
 likely to help you if you trust Him, than if you do not trust 
 Him." 
 
 " I think so too," Matilda assented. 
 
 "Then we will do everything, shall we, that we think our 
 Lord would like to have us do ? and we will trust Him to 
 help us through with it ? " Mr Richmond said, with an 
 affectionate look at the child beside him ; and Matilda met 
 the look and answered it with another. 
 
 " But, Mr Richmond " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " There is one question I should like to ask." 
 
 " Ask it." 
 
 " Why ought people to be baptized ? " 
 
 "Because our Lord commands it. Isn t that a good 
 reason ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; but what does it mean, Mr Richmond ] " 
 
 " It is a way of saying to the world, that we have left it, 
 
54 
 
 and belong to the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a way of saying 
 to the world, that His blood has washed away our sins and 
 His Spirit has made our hearts clean ; or that we trust Him 
 to do both things for us. And it is the appointed way of 
 saying all this to the world ; His appointed way. Do you 
 understand 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "Now, do you not think that those who love the Lord Jesus, 
 ought to be glad to follow His will in this matter 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir," Matilda said again, raising her eyes frankly to 
 Mr Richmond s face. 
 
 " Would you be willing to be left out, when next I baptize 
 some of those who wish to make it publicly known that they 
 are Christ s ? " 
 
 " No, sir." And presently she added, "When will that be, 
 Mr Richmond?" 
 
 "I do not know," he answered, thoughtfully. "Not 
 immediately. You and I must have some more talks be 
 fore that time." 
 
 "You are very good to me, Mr Richmond," Matilda said, 
 gratefully. 
 
 " Have we said all we ought to say this time ? Are there 
 any more questions to bring up ? " 
 
 "/haven t any to bring up," Matilda said. 
 
 " Is all clear that we have been talking about ? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " Now, will you be good to me, and stay and take supper 
 with me 1 That knock at the door means that Miss Red 
 wood would like to have me know that supper is ready. 
 And you shall have this apple we have been roasting." 
 
 " Mr Richmond, I think mamma would be frightened if 
 I did not go home." 
 
 " She does not know where you are ? " 
 
 " Nobody knows," said Matilda. 
 
 "Then it won t do to let you stay. You shall come 
 another time, and we will roast another apple, won t 
 you ? " 
 
 " I should like to come," said Matilda. " Mr Richmond 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 55 
 
 lid n t you say you were going to talk to the Band and ex- 
 
 >lain things, when we have our meetings ? " 
 "I did say so. What do you want explained 1" 
 "Some time, I would like to know just all it means, to 
 
 >e a servant of Christ." 
 " All it means," said Mr Eichmond. " Well, it means a 
 
 ;ood deal, Tilly. I think we had better begin there with 
 
 ur explanations. I shall not make it a lecture ; it will be 
 
 lore like a class j so you may ask as many questions as you 
 
 Jease." 
 
56 " WHAT SHE COULD. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE light of day was darkening fast, as Matilda ran home. 
 Even the western sky gave no glow, when she reached her 
 own gate and went in. After all, she had run but a very 
 little way, in her first hurry ; the rest of the walk was taken 
 with sober steps. 
 
 When she came down- stairs, she found the lamp lit and 
 all the young heads of the family clustering together to look 
 at something. It was Anne s purchase, she found ; Anne 
 had spent her aunt s gift in the purchase of a new silk dress ; 
 and she was displaying it. 
 
 "It is a lovely colour," said Maria. "I think that shade 
 of what do you call it ? is just the prettiest in the world. 
 What do you call it, Clarissa? and where did you get it, 
 Anne?" 
 
 " It is pearl gray," said Clarissa. 
 
 " I would have got blue, while I was about it," said Letitia; 
 "there is nothing like blue; and it becomes you, Anne. 
 You ought to have got blue. I would have had one dress 
 that suited me, if I was you, if I never had another." 
 
 " This will suit me, I think," said Anne. 
 
 " Aren t you going to trim it with anything ? Dresses are 
 so much trimmed now-a-days ; and this colour will not be 
 anything unless you trim it." 
 
 Anne replied by producing the trimming. The exclama 
 tions of delight and approval lasted for several minutes. 
 
 " What are you going to get, Letitia ? " Maria asked. 
 
 " I have not decided." 
 
 " I don t know, but I will have a watch," said Maria. 
 " You can get a very good silver watch, a really good one, 
 you know, for twenty-five dollars." 
 
 " But a silver watch ! " said Anne. " I would not wear 
 anything but a gold watch." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 57 
 
 " How am I going to get a gold watch, I should like to 
 know ? " said Maria. " I think it would be splendid." 
 
 " But what do you want of a watch, Maria ? " her little 
 sister asked. 
 
 " Oh, here is Matilda coming out ! Just like her ! Not a 
 word about Anne s dress ; and now she says, what do I want 
 with a watch. Why, what other people want with one ; I 
 want to see the time of day. ;; 
 
 " I don t think you do," said Matilda. " When do you ? " 
 
 " Why, I should like to know in school, when it is recess 
 time ; and at home, when it is time to go to school." 
 
 " But the bell rings," said Matilda. 
 
 "Well, I don t always hear the bell, child." 
 
 " But when you don t hear it, I tell you." 
 
 " Yes, and it 7 s very tiresome to have you telling me, too. 
 I d rather have my own watch. But I don t know what I 
 will have ; sometimes I think I 11 just buy summer dresses, 
 and then for once I d have a plenty; I do like to have 
 plenty of anything. And there s a necklace and earrings at 
 Mr Kurtz s that I want* Such lovely earrings ! " 
 
 " Well, Matilda, what are you thinking of ?" Letitia burst 
 forth. " Such a face ! One would think it was wicked to 
 wear earrings. What is it, you queer child 1 " 
 
 But Matilda did not say what she was thinking of. The 
 elder ladies came in, and the party adjourned to the tea-table. 
 
 A few hours later, when the girls had gone to their room, 
 Matilda asked 
 
 " When are you going to look for new scholars, Maria?" 
 
 " What ? " was Maria s energetic and not very graceful 
 response. 
 
 " When are you going to look for some new scholars to 
 bring to the school I " 
 
 "The Sunday-school?" said Maria. "I thought you 
 meant the school where we go every day. 1 don t know." 
 
 " You promised you would try." 
 
 " Well, so I will, when I see any I can bring." 
 
 "But don t you think you ought to go and look for 
 them?" 
 
58 
 
 " How can I, Tilly ? I don t know where to go ; and I 
 haven t got time, besides." 
 
 " I think I know where we could go," said Matilda, "and 
 maybe we could get one, at any rate. Don t you know the 
 Dows house 1 ? on the turnpike road? beyond the bridge 
 ever so far 1 " 
 
 "The Dows !" said Maria. "Yes, I know the Dows 
 house ; but who s there 1 Nothing but old folks." 
 
 " Yes, there are two children ; I have seen them ; two or 
 three ; but they don t come to school." 
 
 " Then I don t believe they want to," said Maria ; " they 
 could come if they wanted to, I am sure." 
 
 " Don t you think we might go and ask them ? Perhaps 
 they would come if anybody asked them." 
 
 " Yes, we might," said Maria ; " but you see, Tilly, I 
 haven t any time. It 11 take me every bit of time I can get 
 between now and Sunday to finish putting the braid on that 
 frock ; you have no idea how much time it takes. It curls 
 round this way. and then twists over that way, and then 
 gives two curls, so and so ; and it takes a great while to do 
 it. I almost wish I had chosen an easier pattern ; only this 
 is so pretty." 
 
 " But you promised, Maria." 
 
 " I didn t promise to go and look up people, child. I only 
 promised to do what I could. Besides, what have you got 
 to do with it ? You did not promise at all." 
 
 " I will go with you, if you will go up to the Dows ," said 
 Matilda. 
 
 " Oh, well ! don t worry, and I 11 see about it." 
 
 "But will you go 1 Come, Maria, let us go." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Any afternoon. To-morrow." 
 
 " What makes you want to go 1 " said Maria, looking at 
 her. 
 
 " I think you ought to go," Matilda answered, demurety. 
 
 " And I say, what have you got to do with it ? I don t 
 see what particular concern of mine the Dows are, any 
 how." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 59 
 
 Matilda sat a long while thinking after this speech. She 
 was on the floor, pulling off her stockings and unlacing her 
 boots ; and while her fingers moved slowly, drawing out the 
 laces, her cogitations were very busy. What concern were 
 the Dows of hers or Maria s? They were not pleasant 
 people to go near, she judged, from the look of their hou-se 
 and dooryard as she had seen it in passing; and the un 
 combed, fly-away head of the little girl gave her a shudder 
 as she remembered it. They were not people that were 
 often seen in church ; they could not be good ; maybe they 
 used bad language ; certainly they could not be expected to 
 know how to "behave." Slowly the laces were pulled out 
 of Matilda s boots, and her face grew into portentous 
 gravity. 
 
 " Aren t you coming to bed ? " said Maria. " What can 
 you be thinking of ? " 
 
 " I am thinking of the Dows ? " 
 
 " What about them ? I never thought about them three 
 times in my life." 
 
 " But oughtn t we to think about people, Maria 1 " 
 
 " Nice people." 
 
 " 1 mean, people that are not nice." 
 
 " It will be new times when you do," said Maria. "Come ! 
 let the Dows alone and come to bed. ; 
 
 " Maria," said her little sister as she obeyed this request, 
 " I was thinking that Jesus thought about people that were 
 not nice." 
 
 " Well 1 " said Maria. " Do lie down ! what is the use of 
 getting into bed, if you are going to sit bolt upright like 
 that and talk lectures? I don t see what has got into 
 you." 
 
 " Maria, it seems to me, now I think of it, that those were 
 the particular people He did care about." 
 
 " Don t you think He cared about good people ? " said 
 Maria, indignantly. 
 
 " But they were not good at first. Nobody was good at 
 first till He made them good. He said He didn t come to 
 the good people ; don t you remember ? " 
 
6.0 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " Well, what do you mean by all that ? Are we not to 
 care for anybody but the people that are not good ? A nice 
 life we should have of it 1 " 
 
 " Maria," said her little sister, very thoughtfully, " I 
 wonder what sort of a life He had ? " 
 
 " Tilly ! " said Maria, rising up in her turn, " what has 
 come to you ? What book have you been reading ? I shall 
 tell mamma." 
 
 " I have not been reading any book," said Matilda. 
 
 " Then lie down and quit talking. How do you expect I 
 am going to sleep 1 " 
 
 " Let us go and see what we can do at the Dows, Maria, 
 to-morrow, won t you ? " 
 
 But Maria either did not or would not hear ; so the matter 
 passed for that night. But the next day Matilda brought it 
 up again. Maria found excuses to put her off. Matilda, 
 however, was not to be put off permanently ; she never for 
 got ; and day after day the subject came up for discussion, 
 until Maria at last consented. 
 
 " I am going because you tease me so, Tilly," she said, as 
 they set forth from the gate. " Just for that and nothing 
 else. I don t like it a bit." 
 
 " But you promised." 
 
 " I didn t." 
 
 " To bring in new scholars 1 " 
 
 " I did not promise I would bring the Dow children, and 
 I don t believe they ll come." 
 
 The walk before the children was not long, and yet it 
 almost took them out of the village. They passed the 
 corner this time without turning, keeping the road, which 
 was indeed part of the great high road which took Shady- 
 walk in its way, as it took many another village. The 
 houses in this direction soon began to scatter farther apart 
 from each other. They were houses of more pretension, too, 
 with grounds and gardens and fruit trees about them ; and 
 built in styles that were notable, if not according to any 
 particular rule. Soon the ground began to descend sharply 
 towards the bed of a brook, which brawled along with im- 
 
61 
 
 petuous waters towards a mill somewhere out of sight. It 
 was a full, fine stream, mimicking the rapids and eddies of 
 larger streams, with all their life and fury given to its 
 smaller current. The waters looked black and wintry in 
 contrast with the white snow of the shores. A foot-bridge 
 spanned the brook, alongside of another bridge for car 
 riages ; and just beyond, the black walls of a ruin showed 
 where another fine mill had once stood. That mill had been 
 burnt. It was an old story ; the girls did not so much as 
 think about it now. Matilda s glance had gone the other 
 way, where the stream rushed along from under the bridge 
 and hurried down a winding glen, bordered by a road that 
 seemed well traversed. A house could be seen down the 
 glen, just where the road turned in company with the brook 
 and was lost to view. 
 
 " I wonder who lives down there ? " said Matilda. 
 
 " I don t know. Yes, I do, too ; but I have forgotten." 
 
 " I wonder if they come to church." 
 
 " I don t know that ; and I shall not go to ask them. Why, 
 Matilda, you never cared before whether people went to 
 church." 
 
 "Don t you care now? " was Matilda s rejoinder. 
 
 " No ! I don t care. I don t know those people. They 
 may go to fifty churches, for aught I can tell." 
 
 " But, Maria," said her little sister. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " Very likely. That isn t strange." 
 
 "But, Maria, you promised the other night Maria, 
 what things you promised ! " 
 
 " What then ? " said Maria. " What do you mean ? What 
 did I promise ? " 
 
 "You promised you would be a servant of Christ," Matilda 
 said, anxiously. 
 
 " Well, what if I did ? " said Maria. " Of course I did ; 
 what then. Am I to find out whether everybody in Shady- 
 walk goes to church, because I promised that ? It is not my 
 business." 
 
62 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " Whose business is it 1 " 
 
 " It is Mr Richmond s business; and Mr Everett s business ; 
 and Mr Schonflocker s business. I don t see what makes it 
 mine." 
 
 " Then you ought not to have said that you would bring 
 new scholars to the school, I think, if you did not mean to 
 do it ; and whom do you mean to carry the message to, Maria ? 
 You said you would carry the message." 
 
 "I don t know what carrying the message means," said 
 Maria. 
 
 Matilda let the question drop, and they went on their way 
 in silence ; rising now by another steep ascent on the other 
 side of the brook, having crossed the bridge. The hill was 
 steep enough to give their lungs play without talking. At 
 the top of the hill the road forked ; one branch turned off 
 southwards ; the high road turned east ; the sisters followed 
 this. A little way farther, and both slackened their steps in 
 voluntarily as the house they were going to came full in view. 
 
 It was like a great many others ; brown with the weather, 
 paid having a certain forlorn look that a house gets when 
 there are no loving eyes within it to care how it looks. 
 The doors did not hang straight ; the windows had broken 
 panes ; a tub here and a broken pitcher there stood in sight of 
 every passer-by. A thin wreath of smoke curled up from the 
 chimney, so it was certain that people lived there ; but nothing 
 else looked like it. The girls went in through the rickety 
 gate. Over the house the bare branches of a cherry tree 
 gave no promise of summery bloom ; and some tufts of 
 brown stems standing up from the snow hardly suggested 
 the gay hollyhocks of the last season. The two girls 
 slackened their steps yet more, and seemed not to know 
 very well how to go on. 
 
 " I don t like it, Tilly," Maria said ; " I have a mind to 
 give it up." 
 
 " Oh, I wouldn t, Maria," the little one replied ; but she 
 looked puzzled and doubtful. 
 
 " Well, suppose they don t want to see us in here ? it don t 
 look as if they did." 
 
63 
 
 " We can try, Maria ; it will do no harm to try." 
 
 " I don t know that," said Maria. " I 11 never come such 
 an errand again, Matilda ; never ! I give you notice of that. 
 What shall I do ? Knock?" 
 
 "I suppose so." 
 
 Maria knocked. The next minute the upper half of the 
 door was opened, and an oldish woman looked out. A dirty 
 woman, with her hair all in fly-away order, and her dress 
 very slatternly as well as soiled. 
 
 " What do you want ? " 
 
 " Are there some children here ? " Maria began. 
 
 "Children? yes, there s children here. There s my chil 
 dren." 
 
 " Do they go to school ? " 
 
 " Has somebody been stealin something, and you want to 
 know if it s my children have done it ? " said the woman. 
 " Cos they don t go to no school that you ever see." 
 
 " I did not mean any such thing," said Maria, quite taken 
 aback. 
 
 "Well, what did you mean 1 " the woman asked sharply. 
 
 " We want to see the children," Matilda put in. " May 
 we come in and get warm, if you please ? " 
 
 The woman still held the door in her hand, and looked at 
 the last speaker from head to foot ; then half reluctantly 
 opened the door. 
 
 " I don t know as it 11 hurt you to come in," she said ; "but 
 it won t do you much good ; the place is all in a clutter, and 
 it always is. Come along in, if you want to ! and shut the 
 door; tain t so warm here you ll need the wind in to help 
 you. Want the children, did you say ? what do you want 
 of em?" 
 
 Matilda thought privately that the wind would have been 
 a good companion after all ; no sooner was the door shut, 
 than all remembrance of fresh air faded away. An inexpres 
 sible atmosphere filled the house, in which frying fat, smoke, 
 soapsuds, and the odour of old garments, mingled and com 
 bined in proportions known to none but such dwelling-places. 
 Yet it was not as bad as it might have been, by many degrees ; 
 
64 
 
 the house was a little frame house, open at the joints ; and 
 it stood in the midst of heaven s free air ; all the winds that 
 came from the mountains and the river swept over and 
 around it, came down the chimney sometimes, and breathed 
 blessed breaths through every opening door and shackling 
 window-frame. But to Matilda it seemed as bad as could 
 be. So it seemed to her eyes too. Nothing clean ; nothing 
 comfortable ; nothing in order ; scraps of dinner on the 
 floor ; scraps of work under the table ; a dirty cat in the 
 corner by the stove ; a wash-tub occupying the other corner. 
 The woman had her sleeves rolled up, and now plunged her 
 arms into the tub again. 
 
 " You can put in a stick of wood, if you want to," she 
 said ; " I guess the fire s got down. What did you come 
 here for, eh ? I hain t heard that yet, and I m in a taldn to 
 find out." 
 
 "We thought maybe your children might like to goto 
 Sunday-school," said Maria, with a great deal of trepidation ; 
 " and we just came to ask them. That s all." 
 
 " How did ye know but they went already ? " the woman 
 asked, looking at Maria from the corner of her eye. 
 
 " I didn t know. I just came to ask them." 
 
 " Well, I just advise you not to mix yourself with people s 
 afiairs till you do know a little about em. What business is 
 it o yourn, eh, whether my children goes to Sunday-school ? 
 Sunday-school ! what a poke it is ! " 
 
 "They did not come to our Sunday-school," said Matilda, 
 for her sister was nonplussed ; " and we would like to have 
 them come ; unless they were going somewhere else." 
 
 " They may speak for themselves," said Mrs Dow ; and 
 the opened an inner door, and called in a shrill voice 
 "Araminty ! Jemimy ! Alexander! come right along 
 down, and if ye don t I 11 whip ye." 
 
 She went back to her washing-tub, and Maria and Matilda 
 looked to see three depressed specimens of young human 
 life appear at that inner door ; but first tumbled down and 
 burst in a sturdy, rugged young rascal of some eight or nine 
 years ; and after him a girl a little older, with the blackest 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 05 
 
 of black eyes and hair, the latter hanging straight over her 
 face and ears. The eyes of both fastened upon their strange 
 visitors, and seemed as if they would move no more. 
 
 " Them girls is come to get you to their Sunday-school," 
 said the mother. " Don t you want for to go." 
 
 No answer, and no move of the black eyes. Matilda 
 certainly thought they looked as if they feared the lifting of 
 no mortal hand, their mother s or any other. 
 
 "Would you like to go to Sunday-school?" inquired 
 Maria, politely, driven to speak by the necessities of the 
 silence. But she might as well have asked Mrs Dow s wash- 
 tub. The mother laughed a little to herself. 
 
 "Guess you might as well go along back the road ye 
 come !" she said. "You won t get my Araminty Jemimy 
 into no Sunday-school o yourn this time. Maybe when 
 she s growed older and wiser-like, she 11 come and see you. 
 She don know what a Sunday-school s like. She thinks 
 it s some sort of a trap." 
 
 " I ain t afraid ! " spoke out black -eyes. 
 
 " I didn t say you was," said her mother. " I might ha 
 said you was cunnin enough to keep your foot out of it." 
 
 " It is not a trap," said Matilda, boldly. " It is a pleasant 
 place, where we sing, and learn nice things." 
 
 "My children don t want to learn none o your nice 
 things," said the woman. " I can teach em to home." 
 
 "But you don t!" said black eyes. "You don t never 
 learn us nothing ! " 
 
 There was not the slightest sweet desire of learning 
 evidenced in this speech. It breathed nothing but de 
 fiance. 
 
 " Alexander, won t you come ?" said Matilda, timidly, as 
 her sister moved to the door. For Maria s courage gave out. 
 But at that question the young urchin addressed set up a 
 roar of hoarse laughter, throwing himself down and roll 
 ing over on the floor. His mother shoved him out of her 
 way with a push that was very like a kick, and his sister, 
 seizing a wringing wet piece of clothes from the wash-tub, 
 dropped it spitefully on his head. There was promise of 
 
66 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 a fight ; and Matilda and Maria hurried out. They hastened 
 their steps through the garden, and even out in the high 
 road they ran a little to get away from Mrs Dow s neigh 
 bourhood. 
 
 " Well ! " said Maria, " what do you think now, Tilly ? I 
 hope you have got enough for once of this kind of thing. I 
 promise you I have." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Matilda. " Some one is calling." 
 
 They stopped and turned. A shout was certainly sent 
 after them from the gate they had quitted " Girls, hollo ! 
 Sunday-school girls, hollo ! " 
 
 " Do you hear ? " said Matilda. 
 
 " Sunday-school girls ! come back ! " 
 
 " What can they want ?" said Maria. 
 
 " We must go see," said Matilda. 
 
 So they went towards the gate again. By the gate they 
 could soon see the shock head of Alexander ; he had got rid 
 of the wash-tub and his mother and his sister all three ; 
 and he was waiting there to speak to them. The girls 
 hurried up again till they confronted his grinning face on 
 the other side of the gate. 
 
 "What do you want?" said Maria. "What do you call 
 us back for ? " 
 
 " I didn t call you," said the boy. 
 
 "Yes, you did; you called us back; and we have come 
 back all this \\&y. W r hat do you want to say 1 " 
 
 Alexander s face was dull, even in his triumph. No 
 sparkle or gleam of mischief prepared the girls for his next 
 speech. 
 
 " I say ain t you green ? " 
 
 But another shout of rude laughter followed it; and 
 another roll and tumble, though these last were on the 
 snow. Maria and her sister turned and walked away till 
 out of hearing. 
 
 "I never heard of such horrible people!" said Maria; 
 " never ! And this is what you get, Matilda, by your dread 
 ful going after Sunday-scholars and such things. I do hope 
 you have got enough of it." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD. 5 67 
 
 But Matilda only drew deep sighs, one after another, at 
 intervals, and made no reply. 
 
 " Don t you see what a goose you are 1 " persisted Maria. 
 " Don t you see ] " 
 
 " No," said Matilda. " I don t see that." 
 
 "Well, you might. Just look at what a time we have 
 had, only because you fancied there were two children at 
 that house." 
 
 "Well, there are two children." 
 
 " Such children ! " said Maria. 
 
 "I wish Mr Richmond would go to see them," said 
 Matilda. 
 
 " It would be no use for Mr Richmond or anybody to go 
 and see them," said Maria. " They are too wicked." 
 
 " But you cannot tell beforehand," said Matilda. 
 
 " And so I say, Tilly, the only way is to keep out of such 
 places. I hope you 11 be content now." 
 
 Matilda was hardly content ; for the sighs kept coming 
 every now and then. So they went down the hill again, 
 and over the bridge, past the glen and the burnt mill, and 
 began to go up on the other side. Now across the way, at 
 the top of the bank that overhung the dell, there stood a 
 house of more than common size and elegance, in the midst 
 of grounds that seemed to be carefully planted. A fine 
 brick wall enclosed these grounds on the roadside, and at 
 the top of the hill an iron gate gave entrance to them. 
 
 "0 Tilly !" exclaimed Maria, "the Larners gate is open. 
 Look ! Suppose we go in." 
 
 " I should not like to go in," said the little one. 
 
 " Why not ? There s nobody at home ; they haven t 
 come yet and it s such a good chance. You know, Clarissa 
 says that people have leave to go into people s great places 
 and see them, in England, where she has been." 
 
 " But this is not a great place, and we have not leave," 
 urged Matilda. 
 
 "Oh well, I m going in. Come ! we ll just go in for a 
 minute. It s no harm. Come ! just for a minute." 
 
 Matilda, however, stopped at the gate, and stood there 
 
68 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 waiting for her sister; while Maria stepped in cautiously 
 and made her way as far as the front of the house. Here 
 she turned and beckoned to Matilda to join her ; but the 
 little one stood fast. 
 
 "What does she want of you 1 ?" a voice asked at her 
 elbow. Matilda started. Two ladies were there. 
 
 " She beckoned for me to go in where she is," said Matilda. 
 
 " Well, why don t you go in ? " 
 
 The voice was kindly ; the face of the lady was bending 
 towards her graciously ; but who it was Matilda did not 
 know. 
 
 " We have no leave to go in," she said. " I do not like to 
 be there." 
 
 " I dare say the people would let you come in, if they 
 knew you wished it." 
 
 " They do not know," said Matilda. 
 
 " What a charming child ! " said the lady apart to her 
 companion. " My dear," she went on to Matilda, " will you 
 come in on my invitation ? This is my house, and you are 
 welcome. I shall be as glad to see you as you to see the 
 place. Come!" 
 
 And she took Matilda s hand and led her in. 
 
 Just at the crown of the bank the house stood, and from 
 here the view was very lovely, even now in winter. Over 
 the wide river, which lay full in view with its ice covering, 
 to the opposite shores and the magnificent range of moun 
 tains, which, from Matilda s window at home, she could 
 just see in a little bit. The full range lay here before the 
 eye, white with snow, coloured and brightened by the sink 
 ing sun, which threw wonderful lights across them, and re 
 vealed beautiful depths and shadows. Still, cold, high, 
 far-off; their calm majesty held Matilda s eye. / */; 
 
 " Are you looking at the mountains ? " said the lady. 
 " Yes, now come in and you shall look at my flowers. Your 
 sister may come too," she added, nodding kindly to Maria ; 
 but she kept Matilda s hand, ami so -led her first upoji ^he 
 piazza, which was a single step above the ground, then into 
 the hall. An octagon hall, paved with marble, and with 
 
p 
 
 large white statues holding post around its walls, and a vase 
 of flowers on the balustrade at the foot of the staircase. But 
 those were not the flowers the lady had meant ; she passed 
 on to one of the inner rooms, and from that to another, and 
 finally into a pretty greenhouse, with glass windows look 
 ing out to the mountains and the river, filled on this side of 
 the windows with tropical bloom. While the girls gazed in 
 wonder, the lady stepped back into the room they had left, 
 and threw off her wrappings. When she came again to the 
 girls in the greenhouse, they hardly knew which to look at, 
 her or the flowers ; her dress and whole appearance were so 
 unlike anything they had ever seen. 
 
 " Which do you like best ? " she said. " The roses, you 
 know, of course ; these are camellias, and these and these 
 red ones, too ; all camellias. These are myrtle ; these are 
 heath ; these are geraniums all those are geraniums. This 
 is Eupatorium those, yes, those are azaleas, and those, 
 and all those. Yes, all azaleas. You like them 1 This is 
 bigonia. What do you like best ? " 
 
 It was a long while before Matilda could divide and define 
 her admiration enough to tell what she liked best. Carna 
 tions and heath were found at last to have her best favour. 
 The lady cut a bouquet for her with plenty of carnations 
 and heath, but a variety of other beauty too ; then led the 
 girls into the other room and offered them some rich cake 
 and a glass of what Matilda supposed to be wine. She took 
 the cake and refused the cordial. 
 
 " It is very sweet," said the lady. " You will not dislike 
 it ; and it will warm you, this cold afternoon." 
 
 "I may not drink wine, ma am, thank you," Matilda 
 answered. 
 
 " It is not wine. Does it make you sick, my dear ? Are 
 you afraid to try it ? Your sister is not afraid. I think it 
 will do you good." 
 
 Being thus reassured, Matilda put the glass to her lips, 
 but immediately set it down again. 
 
 "You do not like it ? " said the lady. 
 
 " I like it ; but it is strong 1 " said Matilda, inquiringly. 
 
70 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " Why, yes, it would not be good for anything if it were 
 not strong. Never mind that if you like it. The glass 
 does not hold but a thimbleful, and a thimbleful will not 
 hurt you. Why, why not, my dear 1 " 
 
 Matilda looked up, and coloured and hesitated. 
 
 " I have promised not," she said. 
 
 " So solemnly ? " said the lady, laughing. " Is it your 
 mother you have promised ? " 
 
 " No, ma am." 
 
 " Not your mother ? You have a mother ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, ma am." 
 
 "Would she have any objection ?" 
 
 " No, ma am I believe not." 
 
 " Then whom have you made your promise to ? Is it a 
 religious scruple that some one has taught you ? " 
 
 " I have promised to do all I could for helping temperance 
 work," Matilda said at last. 
 
 She was answered with a little ringing laugh, not unkindly 
 but amused ; and then her friend said gravely 
 
 " Your taking a glass of cordial in this house would not 
 affect anything or anybody, little one. It would do me no 
 harm. I drink a glass of wine every day with my dinner. 
 I shall go on doing it just the same. It will not make a 
 bit of difference to me, whether you take your cordial or 
 not." 
 
 But Matilda looked at the lady, and did not look at her 
 glass. 
 
 " Do you think it will ? " said the lady, laughing. 
 
 "No, ma am." 
 
 " Then your promise to help temperance work does not 
 touch the cordial." 
 
 " No, ma am, but " 
 
 "But? what but? " 
 
 " It touches me." 
 
 "Does it?" said the lady. "That is odd. You think a 
 promise is a promise. Here is your sister taking her cordial ; 
 she has not made the same promise, I suppose ? " 
 
 Maria and Matilda glanced at each other. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 71 
 
 " She has ? " cried the lady. " Yet you see she does not 
 think as you do about it." 
 
 The sisters did not look into each other s eyes again. Their 
 friend watched them both. 
 
 "I should like to know whom you have made such a 
 promise to," she said coaxingly to Matilda. "Somebody 
 that you love well enough to make you keep it. Won t you 
 tell me ? It is not your mother, you said. To whom did 
 you make that promise, dear ? " 
 
 Matilda hesitated and looked up into the lady s face again. 
 
 " I promised the Lord Jesus, ; she said. 
 
 "Good patience! she s religious!" the lady exclaimed, 
 with a change coming over her face ; Matilda could not tell 
 what it was, only it did not look like displeasure. But she 
 was graver than before, and she pressed the cordial no more ; 
 and at parting she told Matilda she must certainly come 
 and see her again, and she should always have a bunch 
 of flowers to pay her. So the girls went home, saying no 
 thing at all to each other by the way. 
 
72 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IT was tea-time at home by the time they got there. All 
 during the meal, Maria held forth upon the adventures of 
 the afternoon, especially the last. 
 
 " Mamma, those people are somebod) ," she concluded. 
 
 " I hope I am somebody," said Mrs Englefield. 
 
 " Oh, but you know what I mean, mamma." 
 
 " I am not clear that I do." 
 
 " And I, Maria, am I not somebody ? " her aunt asked. 
 
 "Well, we re all somebody, of course, in one sense. Of 
 course we re not nobody." 
 
 "I am not so sure what you think about it," said Mrs 
 Candy. " I think that in your language, who isn t somebody 
 is nobody." 
 
 " Oh, well, we re somebody," said Maria. " But if you 
 could see the splendid bunch of jewels that hung at Mrs 
 Laval s breast, you would know I say the truth." 
 
 "Now we are getting at Maria s meaning," observed 
 Clarissa. 
 
 "I have no bunch of jewels hanging at my breast," said 
 Mrs Englefield ; " if that is what she means by somebody. " 
 
 " How large a bunch was it, Maria ? " her aunt asked. 
 
 " And is it certain that Maria s eyes could tell the true 
 from the false, in such a matter as a bunch of jewellery I 
 suggested Clarissa. "They have not had a great deal of 
 experience." 
 
 Maria fired up. "I j ust wish you could see them for your 
 self ! " she said. " False jewels, indeed ! They sparkle like 
 flashes of lightning. All glittering and flashing, red and 
 white. I never saw anything so beautiful in all my life. 
 And if you saw the rest of the dress, you would know that 
 they couldn t be false jewels." 
 
 " What sort of a face had she ?" 
 
73 
 
 " I don t know, handsome." 
 
 "The bunch of jewels dazzled Maria s eyes," said Clarissa, 
 sipping her tea. 
 
 " No, not handsome, Maria," Matilda said. 
 
 "Well, not handsome exactly, but pleasant. She had 
 curls, and lightish hair ; but her dress was so handsome, it 
 made her look handsome. She took a terrible fancy to 
 Matilda." 
 
 "Matilda is the youngest," said her mother. 
 
 "It was thanks to Matilda we got into the house at all ; 
 and Matilda had the flowers. Nobody spoke of giving me 
 any flowers." 
 
 " Well, you know you do not care for them," interposed 
 Matilda. 
 
 " Mamma, those people are somebody I can tell you ! " 
 
 " You speak as if there were nobody else in Shadywalk, 
 Maria, that is anybody." 
 
 " Well, Aunt Candy, I don t know any people like these." 
 
 " Maria, you talk nonsense," said her mother. 
 
 " Mamma, it is just what Aunt Erminia would say herself, 
 if she knew the people." 
 
 " What makes anybody somebody, I should like to know 1 
 and what do you mean by it? Am I nobody, because I 
 cannot wear red and white jewels at my throat ] " 
 
 " It wasn t at her throat at all, mamma ; it was just here 
 on her waist." 
 
 " A bouquet de corsage" said Clarissa. " The waist, as you 
 call it, is at the belt." 
 
 "Well, I am not a mantua-maker," said Maria. 
 
 " No more than we are somebody," said Mrs Candy. 
 
 " Well, you know what I mean," said Maria ; " and you all 
 think exactly the same. There is nobody else in Shadywalk 
 that dresses so, or that has such flowers, or that has such a 
 house." 
 
 "Who are they, these people that she talks of?" Mrs 
 Candy asked. 
 
 "They have lately bought the place. I know nothing 
 about them. They were here for a little while in the sum- 
 
74 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 mer ; but only to turn everything upside down in the house 
 and grounds, and make changes. I cannot imagine what 
 has brought them here, to the country, in the depth of 
 winter. They had nothing to do with anybody in Shady- 
 walk, that I know of. Perhaps they will, now they have 
 got in order. I believe they have lived out of America a 
 good deal." 
 
 " Is that what you mean by somebody/ Maria ? " her aunt 
 asked. " Perhaps I am somebody, according to that." 
 
 Maria s thoughts would not bear to be spoken, it seemed, 
 for she did not speak them ; and it must be a strong reason 
 that kept Maria s opinions to herself. However, the family 
 found something else to talk about, and Mrs Laval was not 
 mentioned again till Maria and Matilda went up to bed. 
 Then Matilda had something to say. 
 
 "Maria," she began with judicial gravity, "what was that 
 Mrs Laval gave us to drink 1 " 
 
 " I don t know," said Maria ; " but it was the best thing I 
 ever tasted in all my life. It was some sort of wine, I guess ; 
 it was strong enough. But it was sweet ; oh, it was nice !" 
 
 " And you drank it 1 " 
 
 "I guess I did ! I only wished there was more of it." 
 
 " But, Maria ! " 
 
 "Well, what, Maria ?" 
 
 You promised, Maria, that you would do all you could 
 for temperance work." 
 
 "What then? I could not do anything for temperance 
 there, child, as Mrs Laval said." 
 
 " You needn t have drunk the wine." 
 
 " Why shouldn t I ? Mrs Laval gave it to me ; I couldn t 
 be rude." 
 
 " But that is not keeping your promise." 
 
 " I made no promise about it. I could do nothing in the 
 world for temperance there, Tilly. What would Mrs Laval 
 care for anything 7 should say ? " 
 
 " But, Maria ! " said her little sister, looking puzzled and 
 troubled at once " you cannot drink wine in one place, and 
 try to hinder people from drinking it in another place." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 75 
 
 " Why can t I ? It all depends on the place, Tilly, and the 
 people." 
 
 " And the wine, I suppose," said Matilda, severely. 
 
 " Yes ! " said Maria, boldly. " I dare say, if all wine was 
 like that, Mr Richmond would have no objection to it. ;> 
 
 " I don t see, Maria," said her sister, " what you made 
 those promises for the other night. I think you ought not 
 to have got up at all ; it was the same as speaking ; and if 
 you do not mean to keep promises, you should not make 
 them." 
 
 " And what have you got to do with it ? " said Maria in 
 her turn. " You did not stand up with the rest of us ; you 
 have no business to lecture other people that are better than 
 yourself. I am going to keep all the promises I ever made ; 
 but I did not engage to go poking into Mrs Dow s wash 
 kitchen, nor to be rude to Mrs Laval ; and I don t mean to 
 do the one or the other, I give you notice." 
 
 Matilda drew another of the long breaths that had come 
 so many times that afternoon, and presently remarked that 
 she was glad the next meeting of the Band would come in a 
 few days. 
 
 Maria sharply inquired, " Why ? " 
 
 " Because," said Matilda, "I hope Mr Richmond will talk 
 to us. I don t understand about things." 
 
 " Of course you don t ! " said Maria ; " and if I were you 
 I would not be so wise, till I did understand. " 
 
 Matilda got into bed, and Maria sat down to finish putting 
 the braid on her dress. 
 
 " Tilly, what are you going to get with your twenty-five 
 dollars?" 
 
 " I don t know yet." 
 
 " I don t know whether I shall get a watch, or a dress, 
 like Anne ; or something else. What would you ? " 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 " What are you going to get with your money, Matilda 1 " 
 
 " I can t tell, Maria. I know what I am going to do with 
 part ; but I don t know what I am going to do with the other 
 part." 
 
76 
 
 Maria could get no more from her. 
 
 Nothing new happened in the family before the evening 
 came for what Maria called the " Band meeting." Matilda 
 went about between home and the school extremely quiet 
 and demure, and reserved rather more than ordinary; but 
 reserve was Matilda s way. Only Maria knew, and it 
 irritated her, that her little sister was careful to lock her 
 self up alone with her Bible, or rather with somebody else s 
 Bible, for Matilda had none of her own, for a good long 
 time every morning and evening. Maria thought sometimes 
 she knew of her doing the same thing at the noon recess. 
 She said nothing, but she watched. And her watching 
 made her certain of it. Matilda unlocked her door and 
 came out always with a face of quiet seriousness and a spirit 
 in armour. Maria could not provoke her (and she tried) ; 
 nor could any other temptations or difficulties, that she could 
 see, shake a certain steady gentleness with which Matilda 
 went through them. Matilda was never a passionate child, 
 but she had been pleasure-loving and wayward. That was 
 changing now ; and Matilda was giving earnest care to her 
 school-work. 
 
 The desired evening for the "Band meeting" came, and 
 the young people all went duly to the lecture-room ; though 
 Maria reminded her sisters that they did not belong there. 
 Letitia and Anne chose to go in spite of that fact. The room, 
 though not full, was filled towards the upper end ; so the 
 party were divided, and it happened that Matilda placed 
 herself apart from her sisters, in the front, at the end of a 
 seat near to Mr Richmond. He was there already, standing 
 by the little desk. 
 
 After the prayer and singing, Mr Richmond declared that 
 they were come together for a talk ; and he meant to make 
 it a talk. He should ask questions when he chose, and 
 everybody else might exercise the same liberty. 
 
 " We are going to try to understand things," he said ; 
 "and by that somewhat vague expression I mean things 
 connected with our covenant that we have made, and 
 the work we have undertaken. Our covenant begins with 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 77 
 
 the words, We are the servants of Christ. Let us know 
 exactly what we mean. What is it to be a servant of Christ? 
 What is a servant, in the first place 1 " 
 
 There was hesitation ; then an answer from somewhere, 
 " He is somebody who does what he is told." 
 
 "That would be a good servant," said Mr Richmond, 
 smiling ; " but it will do. He is one who acts under the 
 will of another, doing the work of another. A servant of 
 Christ what does he do ? and how does he do it 1" 
 
 There was no answer this time. 
 
 " Let us look," said Mr Richmond. " In the first verse of 
 the first chapter of his Epistle to the Romans, Paul calls 
 himself a servant of Jesus Christ ; and in the ninth 
 verse he says that he serves with his spirit. Here is 
 a mark. The service of Christ, you see, is, in the first 
 instance, not outward but in\\ard. Not hand work, nor 
 lip work, nor money giving ; but service in the spirit. 
 What is that? 
 
 ; It is having your will the same with God s will. 
 
 " So now look and see. We all pledged ourselves the other 
 night to do a great many sorts of outward service ; good in 
 themselves, and right arid needful to do. But the first 
 question is, are we ourselves the servants of Christ ? Do 
 we in heart love and obey and agree to His will ? -If we 
 are not doing that, or trying to do it, our other service is no 
 service at all. It is a lie, and no service at all. Or it is ser 
 vice of ourselves." 
 
 Mr Richmond paused a little. 
 
 " I have no reason to think that any of you did not mean 
 true service, when the pledge was given the other night. 
 So now let us see how this true service shows itself. 
 
 " Jesus said, you remember, If any man serve me, let 
 him follow me. All we have to ask is, How did the Lord 
 himself walk, that we should follow Him ? I recommend 
 you to study the story of His life very carefully and very 
 constantly, and be continually getting new lessons from it. 
 But now let us look just at one or two points. 
 
 " Jesus said, * As long as I am in the world, I am the 
 
73 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 Light of the world. Has He comincanded us to be any 
 thing like that ? " 
 
 One of the boys answered, "Let your light so shine 
 before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify 
 your Father which is in heaven." 
 
 " How can our light shine ?" 
 
 "Doing good," another boy answered. 
 
 "Being good," said one of the girls. 
 
 " Very well ; but what is there in doing and being good 
 which has any resemblance to light? What does light 
 do?" 
 
 "It shows things," a boy said. 
 
 "There s no darkness where the light comes," said a 
 little girl. 
 
 " Quite true ; but how does our doing good and being 
 good, show things ? What does it show 1 " 
 
 After a little hesitation a voice replied, " It shows what is 
 right." 
 
 "It shows what people ought to do," a boy said. 
 
 " It shows what is the will of God about us," said Mr 
 Richmond ; "arid the more exactly we are obedient to that 
 will and conformed to it, the more brightly do we give 
 light. And, do you see, our light-giving depends on what 
 we are. We give no light, except just so far as we are our 
 selves what God wills us to be. And then it shines out in 
 all sorts of ways. I knew a little girl whose eyes were like 
 two pure lamps, always ; they were so loving and clear and 
 true. I have known several people whose voices gave light 
 as much as harmony ; they were so sweet with the tones of 
 a glad heart and a conscience at peace. I have seen faces 
 that shone, almost like angel faces, with the love of God 
 and the joy of heaven and the love of their fellow-men. 
 Now this is the first thing the Lord calls us to be in His 
 service His light-bearers. The light comes from Him; 
 we must get it from Him ; and then we must shine ! And 
 of course our actions give light too, if they are obedient 
 to the will of God. A boy who keeps the Sabbath holy is 
 almost as good as a sermon to a boy who doesn t. One who 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 79 
 
 refuses to touch the offered glass of wine, shows the light 
 to another who drinks it. A loving answer shames a 
 harsh spirit ; and a child faithful to her duties at school is 
 a beacon of truth to her fellows. 
 
 " There is one thing more ; and then I will talk to you no 
 longer this evening. Jesus said, The Son of man is come 
 to seek and to save that which is lost. His servants must 
 follow Him. Now, how much are you willing to do, how 
 far are you willing to go, to accomplish what He came, 
 and lived, and died for 1 and how will you set about it ? " 
 
 There was a long silence here ; until Mr Richmond urged 
 that an answer should be given. Then at last somebody 
 suggested 
 
 " Bringing new scholars to school ] " 
 
 " That is one thing to be done, certainly ; and a very good 
 thing. What else can we attempt ? Remember, it is to 
 seek and to save the lost ! " 
 
 " We might carry tracts," another suggested. 
 
 " You might ; and if they are good tracts, and given with 
 a kind word, and followed with a loving prayer, they will 
 not be carried in vain. But to whom will you take them, 
 Frank?" 
 
 "Might take them to the boys in the school," Frank 
 thought. 
 
 "Where else?" 
 
 " Might drop em around the corner," Mrs Rice said. 
 
 " Don t drop them anywhere, where it is possible to give 
 them," Mr Richmond replied. "Do not ever be, or seem, 
 ashamed of your wares. Give lovingly to almost anybody, 
 and the gift will not be refused, if you choose the time and 
 place wisely. Take people when they are alone, as much as 
 you can. But the lost, remember. Who are the lost 1 " 
 
 Silence ; then a voice spoke 
 
 " People who don t come to church." 
 
 " It is a bad sign when people do not come to church," 
 said Mr Richmond. " Still we may not make that an ab 
 solute test. Some people are sick and unable to come ; some 
 are deaf and unable to hear if they did come ; some are so 
 
80 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 poor they have not decent clothes. Some live where there 
 are no churches. Who are the lost ? " 
 
 "People who are not going to heaven," one little girl 
 answered. 
 
 " People who are not good," another said. 
 
 " People who swear," said a boy. 
 
 "Those people who do not love Jesus Christ," was the 
 answer of the fourth. 
 
 " That sums it all up," said Mr Richmond. " Those who 
 do not know the Lord Jesus. They are out of the way to 
 heaven ; they have never trusted in His blood for forgive 
 ness ; they are not good, for they have not got His help to 
 make them good ; and if they do not swear and do other 
 dreadful things, it is only because the temptation is wanting. 
 They are the lost. Now, does not every one of you know 
 some friend or acquaintance who is a lost one ? some brother 
 or sister perhaps ; or mother or father, or cousin or neigh 
 bour, who does not love Jesus the Lord? Those are the 
 very first people for us to seek. Then, outside of those 
 nearest ones, there is a whole world lost. Let us go after 
 all, but especially those who have few to look after them." 
 
 " It is harder to speak to those you know, than to those 
 you don t know," Mrs Trembleton said. 
 
 " No matter. Jesus said, He that taketh not his cross 
 and followeth after me, cannot be my disciple. Let us go 
 to the hardest cases." 
 
 "Are not tracts best to use with them?" Mrs Swan asked. 
 
 " Use tracts or not, according to circumstances. Your 
 own voice is often better than a tract, if it has the right ring 
 
 to it. When 
 
 Tis joy, not duty, 
 To speak His beauty. 
 
 Speak that as often and wherever you can. And l what 
 soever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might. Now 
 I have done asking questions, and you may ask me whatever 
 you like. It is your turn." 
 
 Mr Richmond sat down. 
 
 But the silence was unbroken. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 81 
 
 " I am here to answer questions, remember. Has no one 
 anything to ask ? Has no one found any difficulty to be met, 
 and he does not know just how to meet it ? Has no one 
 found something to be done, and he does not know just who 
 is to do it ? Speak, and tell everything. Now is the time." 
 
 Silence again, and then a little boy said 
 
 " I have found a feller that would like, I guess, to come 
 to Sunday-school ; but his toes is out o his shoes." 
 
 "Cannot he get another pair?" Mr Richmond asked 
 gravely. 
 
 " I guess not, sir." 
 
 " Then it is a case for the Aid and Comfort committee," 
 said Mr Richmond. " Who is the head of your depart 
 ment? Who is chief of those who are looking up new 
 scholars 1 " 
 
 * John Depeyster." 
 
 "Very well. Tell John Depeyster all about your little 
 boy and his toes, and John will go to the head of the relief 
 committee that is, Miss Forshew and she will see about 
 it. Very well, Everett ; you have made a good beginning. 
 Who is next ? " 
 
 " I would like to know," said Miss Forshew, in a small 
 voice, " where the relief committee are to get supplies from 1 
 If new shoes are to be bought, there must be funds." 
 
 " That is the very thing the relief committee undertook, I 
 thought," said Mr Richmond. " Must there be some scheme 
 to relieve them first ? Your business abilities can manage 
 that, Miss Forshew, or I am mistaken in them. But, dear 
 friends, we are not going to serve Christ with, that which 
 costs us nothing are we 1 " 
 
 "Mr Richmond," said Ailie Swan, "may temperance 
 Deople drink cider ] " 
 
 The laughter was universal now. 
 
 " Because," said Ailie, unabashed, " I was talking to a boy 
 about drinking it ; and he said cider was nothing." 
 
 " I have seen some cider which was more than negative in 
 its effects," said Mr Richmond. "I think you were right 
 Ailie. Cider is only the juice of apples, to be sure ; but it 
 
 F 
 
82 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 gets so unlike itself once in a while, that it is quite safe to 
 have nothing to do with it." 
 
 " Mr Richmond," said another girl, " what are you to do if 
 people are rude ? " 
 
 " The Bible says, A soft answer turneth away wrath, 
 Mary." 
 
 " But suppose they will not listen to you ? " 
 
 " Be patient. People did not always listen to the Master, 
 you remember." 
 
 " But would you try again ? " 
 
 " If I had the least chance. We must not be afraid of 
 taking the wind on our face/ as an old writer says. I 
 would try again ; and I would pray more for them. Did you 
 try that, Mary ] " 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Don t ever hope to do anything without prayer. Indeed, 
 we must look to God to do all. We are nothing. If any 
 thing is to be accomplished for the service of Christ by our 
 hands, it must be by God s grace working through us and 
 with us ; no other way. The power is His, always. So what 
 ever you do, pray, and hope in God, not in yourself." 
 
 " Mr Richmond," said Frances Earth, " I do not under 
 stand about carrying the message. What does it mean ?" 
 
 " You know what the message is 1 We are commanded to 
 preach the gospel to every creature." 
 
 " But how can we do it ? people who are not ministers 1 " 
 
 " It is not necessary to get up into a pulpit to preach the 
 gospel." 
 
 " No, sir ; but any way, how is one to carry the 
 message ? " 
 
 " First, I would say, be sure that you have a message to 
 carry." 
 
 " I thought you just said, Mr Richmond, that the gospel 
 is the message ] " said Mrs Trembleton. 
 
 " It is the material of the message ; but you know it must 
 be very differently presented to different people." 
 
 " I know ; but how can you tell ? " 
 
 "As I said, be sure that you have a message to carry. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 83 
 
 Let your heart be full of some thought, or some truth, which 
 you long to tell to another person, or long that another per 
 son should know. Then ask the Lord to give you the right 
 word for that person ; and ask Him to let His power go 
 along with it." 
 
 " Then one s own heart must be full first," said another 
 lady, Mrs Earth, thoughtfully. 
 
 " It should be. And it may be." 
 
 " One has so little time to give to these things," said Mrs 
 Trembleton. 
 
 "Shall we serve the Lord with that which costs us no 
 thing 1 " again said Mr Eichmond. But he did not prolong 
 the conversation after that. He gave out a hymn and dis 
 missed the assembly. 
 
 Matilda being quite in the front, was some distance behind 
 her sisters in coming out. As she passed slowly down the 
 aisle, she came near two of her little acquaintances in one of 
 the seats, who were busily talking. 
 
 " It would be so nice ! " she heard the one say to the 
 other. 
 
 " Where shall we do it ? " 
 
 " There s no place at our house." 
 
 " No more there isn t at mine. There are so many people 
 about all over. Where can we go ? " 
 
 "I ll tell you. Mr Ulshoeffer has this place nice and 
 warm long before Sunday-school time, on Sundays ; let us 
 come here. We could come awhile before the time, you 
 know ; and it would be so nice. Nobody would interrupt 
 us. Oh, there s Matilda Englefield Matilda, won t you 
 come too ? Oh, I forgot ; you are not one of the Band." 
 
 " Yes, I am," said Matilda. 
 
 " Why, you didn t rise the other night when we all rose. 
 I looked over at you to see. 
 
 " I gave Mr Richmond my name afterwards." 
 
 " Oh, did you ? oh, that s good. Now, Matilda, wouldn t 
 you like to come with Mary and me ? " 
 
 " What are you going to do 1 " 
 
 " Why, Mary said she would like to begin and read the 
 
84 
 
 Life of Jesus, you know, to see how He did live ; if we are 
 to follow Him, you know; and I said I would like it too ; 
 and we re going to do it together. And we re coming here 
 on Sundays, before time for Sunday-school, to have a good 
 quiet place where nobody can trouble us. Don t you want 
 to come too, Matilda ? " 
 
 " Yes. But other people will find it out and come too." 
 
 " We 11 lock the door ; till it is time for the people to come 
 to Sunday-school, you know." 
 
 " But I don t believe we can get in, Ailie," said Mary 
 Edwards. "I guess Mr Ulshoeffer keeps the door locked 
 himself." 
 
 " I know he does ; but I know Kegina Ulshoeffer, and 
 she 11 get leave for us and get the key. I know she will. 
 Then we 11 come, won t we 1 Good-night ! Bring your 
 Testament, Tilly!" 
 
 The little group scattered at the lecture-room door, 
 and Matilda ran after her party. They were far ahead ; 
 and when she caught up with them they were deep in eager 
 talk, which was almost altercation. Matilda fell behind 
 and kept out of it and out of hearing of it, till they got 
 home. 
 
 " Well ! " said Mrs Candy, as they entered the parlour, 
 "what now? You do not look harmonious, considering. 
 What have you had to-night ? " 
 
 "An impossible sort of enthusiasm, mamma," said Clarissa, 
 as she drew off her handsome furs. 
 
 " Impossible enthusiasm ! " repeated Mrs Candy. 
 
 "What has Mr Richmond been talking about?" asked 
 Mrs Englefield. 
 
 "Why, mamma," said Letitia, "we are all to spend our 
 lives in feeding sick people, and clothing lazy people, and 
 running after the society of wicked people, as far as I can 
 make out ; and our money of course goes on the same plan. 
 I advise you to look after Maria and Matilda, for they are 
 just wise enough to think it s all right; and they will 
 be carrying it into practice before you know where you 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 85 
 
 " It is not so at all ! " began Maria, indignantly. " It is 
 nothing like that, mamma. You know Mr Richmond 
 better." 
 
 " I think I know you better, too. Look where your study 
 books were thrown down to-day when you came from school. 
 Take them away before you do anything else or say anything 
 more." 
 
 Maria obeyed with a gloomy face. 
 
 " Do you approve of Mr Richmond, Aunt Marianne ? " 
 Clarissa asked. " If so, I will say no more ; but I was 
 astonished to-night. I thought he was a man of sense." 
 
 " He is a man of sense," said Mrs Englefield ; " but I 
 always thought he carried his notions rather far." 
 
 " Why, aunt, he would make missionaries and colporteurs 
 and sisters of charity of us all. Sisters of charity are a, 
 magnificent institution, of course; but what would become 
 of the world if we were all sisters of charity ? And the 
 idea ! that everybody is to spend his whole time and all his 
 means in looking up vagrants and nursing fever cases ! I 
 never heard anything like it in my life. That, and doing the 
 work of travelling Methodists ! " 
 
 "I wonder what the ministry is good for," said Mrs 
 Candy, "if everybody is to do the same work." 
 
 " I do not understand it," said Mrs Englefield. " I was 
 not brought up to these extreme theories myself ; and I do 
 not intend that my children shall be." 
 
 " But, mamma," said Maria, re-entering, " Mr Richmond 
 does not go into extreme theories." 
 
 " Did you eat an apple after dinner ? " said her mother. 
 
 "Yes, ma am." 
 
 " You ate it up here, instead of in the dining-room 1 * 
 
 " Why, mamma, you know we often " 
 
 " Answer me. You ate it up here 1 " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What did you do with the core and the peel 1 n 
 
 " Mamma, I you know I had no knife " 
 
 " What did you do with it V 
 
 No answer, except that Maria s cheeks grew bright. 
 
86 " WHAT SHE COULD. 
 
 " You know what you did with it, I suppose. Now bring 
 it to me, Maria." 
 
 Colouring angrily as well as confusedly, Maria went to 
 the mantelpiece where stood two little china vases, and took 
 down one of them. 
 
 " Carry it to your Aunt Candy," said her mother. " Look 
 at it, Erminia. Now bring it here. Take this vase away, 
 and empty it, and wash it, and put it in its place again ; 
 and never use it to put apple peels in, as long as you 
 live." 
 
 Maria burst into tears and went away with the vase. 
 
 " Just a little careless," said her aunt. 
 
 " Heedless always was," said her mother. " Now Matilda 
 is not so ; and Anne and Letitia were neither of them so. 
 It is a mystery to me, what makes one child so different 
 from another child ? " 
 
 " Matilda is a little piece of thoughtfulness," said her aunt, 
 drawing the child to her side and kissing her. " Don t you 
 think a little too much, Tilly ? " 
 
 Matilda wondered whether her aunt thought quite enough. 
 
 "Now, Maria," Mrs Englefield went on as her other 
 daughter came in, " are you purposing to enter into all Mr 
 Richmond s plans that Clarissa has been talking about ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma am, of course," Maria said. 
 
 "Well, I want you to take notice, that I expect in the 
 first place that all your home and school duties shall be 
 perfectly performed. Religion, if it is good for anything, 
 makes people do their duties. Your lessons must be perfect ; 
 your drawers kept in order ; your clothes mended ; you must 
 be punctual at school and orderly at home ; do you hear ? 
 And if all this is not done, I shall take all your pretended 
 religion for nothing but a sham, and shall pay no respect to 
 it at all. Now go to bed and act religion for a month before 
 I hear you talk another word about it." 
 
 Maria went silently up-stairs, accompanied by her little 
 sister ; but once in their room, she broke out 
 
 "Mamma is real cross to-night! It is just Clarissa s 
 doing." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 87 
 
 " I 11 tell you what it is, Maria," her sister said ; " she is 
 not cross ; she is worried. I know she is worried." 
 
 " About Mr Richmond 1 " said Maria. 
 
 " I don t know about what. No, I guess she was worried 
 before we came back." 
 
 " She was cross anyhow ! " said Maria. " How can one 
 do everything perfectly ? " 
 
 "But that is just what Mr Richmond said, Matilda 
 urged gently. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "That we should be light-bearers, you know, 
 the way to be a light-bearer ; to do everything perfectly." 
 
 " Well, you may, if you can," said Maria. " I can t." 
 
88 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " TILLY, that money burns my pocket," Maria said the next 
 morning. 
 
 " Then you had better put it somewhere else." 
 
 " I suppose you think that is smart," said Maria, " but it 
 isn t ; for that is just what I mean to do. I mean to spend 
 it somehow." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "That s just what I don t know. There are so many 
 things I want ; and I do not know what I want most. I 
 have a good mind to buy a writing-desk, for one thing." 
 
 " Why, you have got one already." 
 
 " I mean a handsome one a real beauty, large, you know, 
 and with everything in it. That lock of mine isn t good. 
 Anybody could open it." 
 
 " But there is nobody to do that," said Matilda. " Nobody 
 comes here but you and me." 
 
 "That don t make any difference !" said Maria, impatiently, 
 " Don t be so stupid. I would like to have a nice thing, 
 anyhow. Then sometimes I think I would rather have a 
 gold chain like Clarissa s." 
 
 "You could not get that for twenty-five dollars," said 
 Matilda. 
 
 " How do you know 1 " 
 
 " Hers cost three or four times as much as that. * 
 
 " Did it ! Well, then, I guess I will have the desk, or 
 a whole lot of handsome summer dresses. I guess I will 
 have that." 
 
 "Maria," said her little sister, facing round upon her, 
 "how much are you going to give to the Missionary 
 Fund?" 
 
 " The Missionary Fund ? " said Maria. 
 
 " Yes. You promised to helo that, you know." 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 89 
 
 "Not with my twenty-five dollars ! " said Maria, energeti 
 cally. " I think you are crazy, Matilda." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because ! To ask me such a question as that. Aunt 
 Candy s present ! " 
 
 " Didn t you promise V 
 
 " I did not promise to give my money any more than I 
 usually give. I put a penny in every Sunday." 
 
 "Then I don t see how you are going to help the Fund," 
 said Matilda. " I don t see why you promised, either." 
 
 "I promised, because I wanted to join the Band ; and I 
 am going to do everything I ought to do. I think I am just 
 as good as you, Matilda." 
 
 Matilda let the matter drop. 
 
 It did not appear what she was going to do with her 
 money. She always said she had not decided. Only one 
 day soon after the last meeting recorded, Matilda was seen 
 in one of the small bookstores of Shadywalk. There was 
 not reading enough in the village to support a bookstore 
 proper ; so the books crept into one corner of the apothe 
 caries shops, with supplies of stationery to form a connect 
 ing link between them and the toilet articles on the opposite 
 counter. To one of these modest retreats of literature, Ma 
 tilda came this day and requested to look at Bibles. She 
 chose one and paid for it ; but she took a long time to make 
 her choice ; was excessively particular about the goodness 
 of the binding and the clearness of the type ; detecting an 
 incipient loose leaf in one that was given her to examine ; 
 and finally going away perfectly satisfied. She said nothing 
 about it at home ; but of course Maria saw the new pur 
 chase immediately. 
 
 " So you have been to get a Bible ! " she said. " Did you 
 get it with part of your twenty-five dollars ? " 
 
 " Yes. I had no other money, Maria, to get it with." 
 
 "I think you are very foolish. What do you want a 
 Bible for." 
 
 "I had none." 
 
 " You could always read mine 
 
90 
 
 " Not always. And Maria, you know, if we are to follow 
 Jesus, we want to know very well, indeed, how He went 
 and what He did and what He wants us to do ; and we 
 cannot know all that without a great deal of study." 
 
 " I have studying enough to do already, for my part," said 
 Maria. 
 
 " But you must study this." 
 
 " I haven t a minute of time, Matilda not a minute." 
 
 " Then how will you know what to do 1 " 
 
 " Just as well as you will, perhaps. I Ve got my map of 
 South America to do all over, from the beginning." 
 
 "And all the rest of the class ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then you are no worse off than the others. And Ailie 
 Swan reads her Bible, I know." 
 
 "I think I am just as good as Ailie Swan," said Maria, 
 with a toss of her head. 
 
 " But, Maria," said Maria s little sister, leaning her elbows 
 on the table and looking earnestly up at her. 
 
 "Well what?" 
 
 " Is that the right way to talk 1 " 
 
 "Why not ? 
 
 " I don t see what Ailie has to do with your being good." 
 
 " Nor I, I am sure," said Maria. " It was you brought 
 her up." 
 
 " Because, if she has time, I thought you might have 
 time." 
 
 "Well, I haven t time," said Maria. "It is as much as I 
 can do, to stud} 7 my lesson for Sunday-school." 
 
 "Then, Maria, how can you know how to be good ?" 
 
 " It is no part of goodness to go preaching to other people, 
 I would have you know," said Maria. 
 
 Matilda turned over the leaves of her new Bible lovingly, 
 and said no more. But her sister failing her, she was all 
 the more driven to seek the little meetings in the corner of 
 the Sunday-schoolroom; and they grew to be more and 
 more pleasant. At home nothing seemed to be right. Mrs 
 Englefield was not like herself. Annie and Letitia were 
 
91 
 
 gloomy and silent. The air was heavy. Even Clarissa s 
 beautiful eyes, when they were slowly lifted up to look at 
 somebody, according to her custom, seemed cold and dis 
 tant as they were not at first. Clarissa visited several sick 
 people and carried them nourishing things ; but she looked 
 calm disapproval when Maria proclaimed that Tilly had 
 been all up Lilac Lane to look for a stray Sunday-school 
 scholar. Mrs Englefield laughed and did not interfere. 
 
 " I would never let a child of mine go there alone," said 
 Mrs Candy. 
 
 " There is no danger in Shady walk," said Mrs Englefield. 
 
 "You will be sorry for it, sister." 
 
 "Well ; I am sorry for most things, sooner or later," said 
 Mrs Englefield. 
 
 So weeks went by ; until it came to be the end of winter, 
 and something of spring was already stealing into the sun 
 light and softening the air ; that wonderful nameless 
 " something," which is nothing but a far-off kiss from 
 Spring s fingers. One Sunday Mrs Englefield had gone to 
 bed with a headache ; and hastening away from the dinner- 
 table, Matilda went off to her appointment. Mr Ulshoeffer 
 had been propitious ; he let the little girls have the key on 
 the inside of the schoolroom door ; and an hour before it 
 was time for the classes of the school to be gathering, the 
 three friends met at the gate and went in. They always 
 sat in a far-off corner of one of the transepts, to be as cozy 
 as possible. They were all punctual to-day, Ailie having 
 the key of the door. 
 
 " Girls, don t you get confused sometimes, with the things 
 you hear people say 1 " she asked, as she unlocked the door. 
 " I do ; and then sometimes I get real worried." 
 
 " So do I get worried ! " Mary Edwards assented. "And 
 I don t know what to say that s the worst of it." 
 
 "Now only to-day," Ailie went on, as they walked up the 
 matted aisle with a delicious sense of being free and alone 
 and confidential, " I heard some one say it was no use for 
 children to be Christians ; he said they didn t know their 
 own minds, and don t know what they want, and by and 
 
92 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 by it will all be smoke. And when I hear such things, it 
 affects me differently. Sometimes I get mad ; and then 
 sometimes it takes the strength all out of me." 
 
 " But if we have the right sort of strength," said Matilda, 
 " people can t take it from us, Ailie." 
 
 "Well, mine seems to go," said Ailie. "And then I feel 
 bad." 
 
 " We know what we want," said Mary, "if we are 
 children." 
 
 " We know our own minds," said Matilda. " We know 
 we do. It is no matter what people say." 
 
 "I wish they wouldn t say it," said Ailie. "Or I wish I 
 needn t hear it. But it is good to come here and read, isn t 
 it 1 And I think our talk helps us ; don t you 1 " 
 
 "It helps me," said Mary Edwards. "I ve got nobody 
 at home to talk to." 
 
 " Let us begin, girls, or we shall not have time," said 
 Matilda. " It s the fourteenth chapter." 
 
 " Of Luke ? " said Ailie. " Here it is. But I don t like 
 Luke so well as Matthew ; do you ? Well, begin." 
 
 They began and read on, verse by verse, until fourteen 
 verses were read. There they paused. 
 
 " What does this mean 1 " said Matilda, knitting her small 
 brows. 
 
 "Isn t it right to ask our friends to tea or anything] 
 Why, Jesus went to dine with this Pharisee," said Mary, 
 looking up. 
 
 " Yes ; but that is another thing," said Matilda. " You 
 see, we must ask the people who have no friends." 
 
 " But why not our friends too ? " 
 
 " Perhaps it would cost too much to ask everybody? said 
 Ailie. " One would be giving parties all the time ; and 
 they cost, I can tell you." 
 
 " But some people are rich enough," said Mary. 
 
 " Those people don t make parties for the poor, though." 
 said Ailie. " Catch them ! " 
 
 "But then, can it mean that it is wrong to have our 
 friends come and see us 1 " said Matilda. 
 
93 
 
 "It cannot be wrong. Don t you remember, Martha and 
 Mary used to have Jesus come to their house ? and they 
 used to make suppers for Him." 
 
 " But He, was poor," said Matilda. 
 
 " That is different, too, from having a party, and making 
 a great fuss," said Ailie. 
 
 "And that is done just to pay one s debts," said Matilda, 
 " for I have heard mother say so. People ask her, and so 
 she must ask people. And that is what it means, girls, I 
 guess. See, lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense 
 be made thee. That isn t making a feast for people that 
 you love." 
 
 " Then it is wicked to ask people just that they may ask 
 you," said Mary Edwards. 
 
 " Instead of that, we must ask people who cannot ask us," 
 said Matilda. 
 
 "But how queer we should be ! " said Ailie Swan. "Just 
 think ; we should not be like anybody else. And what 
 should we do if people asked us 1 " 
 
 " I don t care," said Matilda. " See, girls ; thou shalt 
 be recompensed at the resurrection of the just. " 
 
 "And is that what it means in the next verse 1" said Mary 
 Edwards. " But I don t understand that. Blessed is he 
 that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God. Do they eat 
 bread there ? I thought they didn t." 
 
 " It is like what we read a little way back," said Matilda, 
 flirting over one or two leaves "yes, here in the 12th 
 chapter Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when 
 He corneth shall find watching ; verily I say unto you, that 
 He shall gird Himself, and make them to sit down to meat, 
 and will come forth and serve them. " 
 
 "That means Jesus," said Mary Edwards. "He will 
 make them to sit down to meat ! and will serve them. 
 What does it mean, I wonder ? " 
 
 " It means that Jesus will give them good things," said 
 Ailie. 
 
 " I guess they will be blessed, then, that eat when He feeds 
 them," said the other little girl. " I would like to be there." 
 
94 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 "There is a verse or two that my Bible turns to," said 
 Matilda. "In the Revelation. And he saith unto me, 
 Write, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage 
 supper of the Lamb. Oh, don t you like to read in the 
 Revelation ? But we are all called ; aren t we 1 " 
 
 "And here, in our chapter," said Mary, "it goes on to 
 tell of the people who were called and wouldn t come. So I 
 suppose everybody is called ; and some won t come." 
 
 " Some don t get the invitation," said Matilda, looking up. 
 
 "A good many don t, I guess," said Ailie. " Who do you 
 think gets it in Lilac Lane ? " 
 
 " Nobody, hardly, I guess," said Mary Edwards ; " there 
 don t many people come to church out of Lilac Lane." 
 
 "But then, girls," said Matilda, "don t you think we 
 ought to take it there 1 the invitation, I mean ? " 
 
 " How can we 1 Why, there are lots of people in Lilac 
 Lane that I would be afraid to speak to." 
 
 "I wouldn t be afraid," said Matilda. "They wouldn t 
 do us any harm." 
 
 " But what would you say to them, Tilly 1 " 
 
 " I would just ask them to come, Ailie. I would take the 
 message to them. Just think, Ailie, of that time, of that 
 supper when Jesus will give good things with His own 
 hand ; and how many people would come if they knew. I 
 would tell everybody. Don t you think we ought to 1 " 
 
 "I don t like to speak to people much," said Ailie. 
 " They would think I was setting myself up." 
 
 " It is only carrying the message," said Matilda. " And 
 that is what Jesus was doing all the time, you know ; and 
 He has told us to follow Him." 
 
 "Then must we be telling it all the time too?" asked 
 Ailie. " We should do nothing else." 
 
 " Oh yes, we should. That would not hinder," said Ma 
 tilda. " It doesn t take so very long to say a word. Here 
 is another verse, girls ; this is in the Revelation too ; listen. 
 This must be what those other verses mean : * They shall 
 hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither shall the 
 sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in 
 
95 
 
 the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them 
 unto living fountains of waters ; and God shall wipe away 
 all tears from their eyes. " 
 
 As if a thrill from some chord of an angel s harp had 
 reached them, the children were still for a moment. 
 
 "I don t believe the people are happy in Lilac Lane," 
 said Matilda. 
 
 " Maybe they are," said Ailie. "But I guess they can t 
 be. People that are not good can t be happy." 
 
 "And Jesus has given us the message to take to everybody," 
 said Matilda ; " and when we come up there to that supper, 
 and He asks us if we took the message to the people in the 
 lane, what shall we say 1 I know what I would like to say." 
 
 " But there are other people besides in the lane," said Ailie. 
 
 "We must take it to them too," said Mary Edwards. 
 
 " We can t take it to everybody." 
 
 " No ! only to everybody that ice can" said Matilda. " Just 
 think how glad some of those people will be when they hear 
 it What should we do if Mr Richmond had never told it 
 to us?" 
 
 Ailie bit her lip. Whether by design or not, Mary Edwards 
 turned to her Testament and read the next words that 
 followed in course. 
 
 " And there went great multitudes with Him : and He 
 turned and said unto them, If any man come unto me, and 
 hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and 
 brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot 
 be my disciple." 
 
 And seeing Mr Ulshoeffer coming to open the door, the 
 little conclave broke up. The children and teachers came 
 pouring in for the Sunday-school. 
 
 Going out after it was over, Matilda noticed a face she 
 had not seen ; a boy older than herself, but not very old, 
 standing near the door looking at the small crowd that 
 trooped along the aisle. The thought came to Matilda that 
 he was a new scholar, and if so, somebody ought to welcome 
 him ; but nobody did, that she could see. He stood alone, 
 looking at the people as if they were strange to him ; with 
 
96 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 a good, bright, wide-awake face, handsome and bold. Matilda 
 did not want to take the welcoming upon herself, but she 
 thought somebody should do it ; and the next minute she 
 had paused in front of the stranger. 
 
 " Is this the first time you have been here ? " she asked, 
 with a kind of shy grace. The boy s bright eyes came down 
 to her with a look of surprise as he assented. 
 
 " I am very glad to see you in our Sunday-school," she 
 went on. " I hope it was pleasant," 
 
 " It was pleasant enough," said the stranger. " There is a 
 jolly fellow over there asked me to come Ben Earth ; are 
 you his sister ? " 
 
 " Oh no," said Matilda. " Ben has his own sisters. I am 
 not one of them." 
 
 " I thought maybe he told you to speak to me." 
 
 "Nobody told me," said Matilda. By this time they had 
 followed the crowd out at the door, and were taking their 
 way down the street. 
 
 " What did you speak to me then, for 1 " said the boy, 
 with a roguish look at her. 
 
 " I thought you were a stranger." 
 
 "And what if I was?" 
 
 " I think, if you are a stranger anywhere, it is pleasant to 
 have somebody speak to you." 
 
 " You re a brick ! " was the stranger s conclusion. 
 
 " Am I ? " said Matilda. " Why am 1 1 " 
 
 "You re a girl, I suppose, and don t understand things," 
 said her companion. " Boys know what a brick is when 
 they see it." 
 
 " Why, so do I," said Matilda, "don t I ?" 
 
 But the boy only laughed ; and then asked Matilda 
 where she lived, and if she had any brothers, and where she 
 went to school. 
 
 " I go to the other school, you see," said he ; " that s how 
 I ve never seen you before. I wish you went to my school ; 
 and I d give you a ride on my sled." 
 
 " But you 11 come to our Sunday-school, won t you ? " 
 Matilda asked. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 97 
 
 " To be sure I will ; but, you see, I can t take you on my 
 sled on Sunday. They d have all the ministers out after 
 me." 
 
 " Oh no ! " said Matilda. " I was not thinking of the 
 sled ; but you are very kind." 
 
 " I should like it," said the boy. " Yes, I am coming to 
 the school ; though I guess I ve got an old fogy of a teacher. 
 But the minister s a brick; isn t he ?" 
 
 " He isn t much like me? said Matilda, laughing. " And 
 the sort of bricks that I know, one is very much like 
 another." 
 
 The boy laughed too, and asked if she didn t want to 
 know his name ] Matilda glanced again at the frank face 
 and nice, dress, and said yes. 
 " My name s Norton Laval. What & yours 1 " 
 " Matilda Englefield. I am going this way." 
 " Yes, you go that way and I go this way, but we shall 
 see each other again. Good-bye." 
 
 So at the corner they parted ; and Matilda went home, 
 thinking that in this instance at least the welcoming of 
 strangers had paid well. For this was a pleasant new 
 acquaintance, she was sure. She mounted the stairs with 
 happy feet to her room ; and there found Maria in a flood 
 of tears. Maria had stayed at home from Sunday-school 
 to day. 
 
 " What is the matter, Maria 1 " her little sister inquired. 
 "How s mamma?" 
 
 " I don t know ! Oh, nothing will ever be well again. O 
 Tilly, what will become of us 1 " 
 
 And here a storm of sobs and tears came on, in the 
 midst of which Matilda s questions could get no attention. 
 Matilda knew her sister, however, and waited. 
 " Tilly ! it s so dreadful !" 
 "What ? " said Matilda, calmly. 
 
 " We haven t got anything to live upon. Anne and Letty 
 have been telling me. We haven t. We are going to be as 
 poor as as poor as anybody. We have got nothing to buy 
 anything with nothing at all ! Anne says so." 
 
98 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " Did mamma say so ? " 
 
 " Mother s sick. No, Aunt Candy told the girls. It s true. 
 Somebody or something that had mamma s money to take 
 care of lias gone off, or been ruined, or something ; and we 
 are ruined ! There is nothing left at all for us to live upon. 
 And that is what has been troubling mamma all these weeks ; 
 and now it is certain, and she knows all about it ; and I 
 guess it is that has made her sick. Oh, what shall we do ] " 
 
 The turn of Matilda s head was inimitable and indescrib 
 able. It was not arrogance or affectation ; it was perfectly 
 natural to the child ; but to a bystander it would have 
 signified that she was aware Maria s views and statements 
 were not to be relied upon and could not be made the basis 
 of either opinion or action. She took off her things, and 
 without another word made her way to the room of her elder 
 sisters. They were both sitting there gloomily. 
 
 " How is mamma 1 " 
 
 " I don t know. I haven t seen her since dinner." 
 
 It was with a little of the same half-graceful, half-com 
 petent gesture of the head that Matilda applied herself to 
 Letitia. 
 
 " What is all this story, Letty, that Maria has been telling 
 me 1 " 
 
 " How should I know ? Maria tells a great many stories." 
 
 " I mean, about what has been troubling mamma." 
 
 " Maria had no business to tell you, and so trouble you 
 with it." 
 
 " But is it true, Letty 1 Anne, is it true ? " 
 
 " I suppose it is true if you mean what she heard from 
 me a little while ago. That is true." 
 
 " And mamma has lost all her money ? " 
 
 " Every cent." 
 
 "When did you know it, Anne and Letty 1 " 
 
 " We have known it a day or two. It is true. It is all 
 true, Tilly." 
 
 " What is mamma going to do, then 1 " 
 
 " Get well, I hope. That is the first thing. Aunt Candy 
 says she will pay for her board and Clarissa s, and mamma- 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 99 
 
 and you can live on that. Letty and I must go get our living 
 somehow." 
 
 And here Anne broke down. Matilda wanted to ask 
 about Maria s fate in the general falling to pieces of the 
 family ; but her throat felt so full, she was afraid she could 
 not. So she did not try ; she turned and went down-stairs 
 to her mother. 
 
 Mrs Englefield was dozing, flushed, and uneasy ; she 
 hardly noticed who was with her ; but asked for water, and 
 then for Cologne water. Matilda brought the one and the 
 other, and sat by the bedside wiping her mother s brow and 
 cheeks with the Cologne. Nobody came to interrupt or re 
 lieve her for some time. The light of the afternoon began 
 to fade, and the sunbeams came aslant from the western 
 sky ; and still the child sat there passing the handkerchief 
 gently over her mother s face. And while she sat so, Matilda 
 was thinking what possible ways there might be by which 
 she could make money. 
 
 "Tilly, is that you?" said Mrs Englefield, faintly, as the 
 sunbeams were just quitting the room. 
 
 " Yes, mamma. Are you better ? " 
 
 " Is there no one else here ? " 
 
 " No, mamma. Aunt Candy is out ; and I suppose tiie 
 girls thought you were sleeping. Are you better, mamma ? 
 You have had a nice long nap." 
 
 "It s been horrid!" said Mrs Englefield. "I have 
 dreamed of every possible dreadful thing." 
 
 " But you feel better now ?" 
 
 " My head aches no oh, my head ! Tilly " 
 
 " What, mamma ? " 
 
 "I am going to be sick. I shan t be about again for a 
 while, I know. I want you to do just what I tell you." 
 
 "Yes, mamma. What?" 
 
 " Anne and Letty are going away." 
 
 " Yes, mamma. I know." 
 
 " Do you know why, dear ? " 
 
 The tone of tender, sorrowful sympathy in which this was 
 said, overcame the child. As her mother s eyes with the 
 
100 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 question languidly sought her face, Matilda burst into tears 
 and threw herself upon her neck. 
 
 " No, don t," said Mrs Englefield, faintly," I can t bear 
 it. Don t, Matilda ! Else up and listen to me." 
 
 Matilda did as she was told. She forced back her tears ; 
 stopped her sobs ; dashed away the drops from the corners 
 of her eyes ; and sat up again to hear what her mother had 
 to say to her. 
 
 " Give me some more water first. Anne and Letty are 
 going away, Tilly ; and I cannot be up and see to anything ; 
 and I can t hire a woman to do what s to be done. You tell 
 Maria, from me, she must stay at home from school and 
 take care of the house. You will do what you can, Tilly 
 oh, my head ! you can put rooms in order and such things ; 
 and Maria must go down into the kitchen and get the break 
 fast 
 
 " Must Maria get the dinner too, mamma ? " 
 
 " Yes, the dinner " 
 
 " But can she, mamma 1 " 
 
 " She must ; or else your Aunt Candy will hire somebody 
 to do it ; and that will come out of what she pays me, and 
 we shall not have enough left. She must, Tilly." 
 
 " But Aunt Candy wouldn t mind, just while you are 
 sick, mamma, would she ? " 
 
 " Yes ! I know. Just you do as I tell you ; promise mo 
 that you will." 
 
 " I will, mamma." 
 
 " Promise me that Maria will." 
 
 ft I guess she will, mamma. I 11 try and make her. Shall 
 I bring her here, and you tell her yourself ? " 
 
 " No, indeed. Don t bring Maria here. She would make 
 such a row she would kill me. Anne and Letty will see to 
 things, till they go oh, I can t talk any longer. Give me 
 some more water." 
 
 She was presently dozing again ; and Matilda, clasping 
 her small hands, sat and thought over what was before her. 
 It began to feel like a weight on her somewhere on her 
 shoulders she thought, and lying on her heart too ; and the 
 
Matilda poured out all her troubles into the ear that would heed 
 and could help her." P. 161. 
 
l WHAT 
 
 longer she thought about it, the heavier and harder it 
 pressed. The family to be broken up ; her mother to be 
 straitened for money Matilda did not know very well what 
 that meant, but it sounded disagreeable ; her aunt suddenly 
 presented in new and not pleasant colours ; a general 
 threatening cloud overshadowing all the future. Matilda 
 began to get, what her strong little heart was not accustomed 
 to, a feeling of real discouragement. What could she do ? 
 And then a word of the afternoon s lesson in the Sunday- 
 school came freshly to mind. It had been quite new to 
 Matilda, and had seemed to her very beautiful ; but it took 
 on quite another sort of beauty now, "Cast thy burden 
 upon the Lord ; He shall sustain thee." 
 
 " Will He ? " thought Matilda. " Can He ? May I tell 
 Him about all this? and will He help me to bear it, and help 
 me to do all that work, and to make Maria do hers ? But 
 He will, for He has said so." 
 
 It was getting dusk in the room. Matilda knelt down by 
 her chair, and poured out all her troubles into the Ear that 
 would heed and could help her. 
 
 " Who s here ? " said the voice of Mrs Candy, coming 
 in. " Who is that ? Matilda ? How did you come here, 
 Tilly?" 
 
 " I have been taking care of my mother." 
 
 " Have you ? How is she ? Well, you run down-stairs ; 
 I 11 take care of her now. It is better for you not to be 
 here. Don t come in again, unless I give you leave. Now 
 you may go." 
 
 "I wonder, must I mind her?" said Matilda to herself. 
 " I do not see why. She is not mother ; and if mother is 
 sick, that does not give everybody else a right to say what 
 I shall do. I think it is very queer of Aunt Candy to take 
 that way with me." 
 
 And I am afraid Matilda s head was carried a little with 
 the air which was, to be sure, natural to her, and not un- 
 pretty, and yet which spoke of a good deal of conscious 
 competency. It is no more than justice to Matilda to say 
 that she did not ever put the feeling into any ill -mannerly 
 
10?, "V. HAT CHE COULD." 
 
 form. It Lardly appeared at all, except in tins turn of 
 her head, which all her own family knew, laughed at, 
 admired, and even loved. So she went down-stairs to the 
 parlour. 
 
 "How is Aunt Marianne?" was the question from 
 Clarissa. " Letty told me where you were. But, little one, 
 it is not good for you to go into your mother s sick-room ; 
 you can do nothing, and you are better out. So mamma 
 wishes you not to go in there till Aunt Marianne is better 
 you understand ? " 
 
 " Clarissa too ! " thought Matilda to herself. But she 
 made no answer. She came by the fire to warm herself ; 
 for her mother s room had been cold. 
 
 " You shouldn t go so near the fire ; you 11 burn your 
 dress," Clarissa remarked. 
 
 " No," said Matilda ; and she said but that one word. 
 
 " You will take the colour out, if you do not set it on 
 fire ; and that is what I meant. That is your best dress, 
 Tilly." 
 
 It was true ; and, sorely against her will, Matilda stepped 
 a little back. 
 
 "You were a great while at Sunday-school to-day," 
 Clarissa went on. 
 
 " No," said Matilda ; " not longer than usual." 
 
 " What do you learn there ? " 
 
 " Why, cousin Issa, what do you teach at your Sunday- 
 school 1 " said Matilda. For Clarissa had sheered off from 
 Mr Richmond s church, and gone into a neighbouring one 
 which belonged to the denomination in which she had been 
 brought up. 
 
 "That is not good manners to answer one question with 
 another, little one." 
 
 "I thought one answer might serve for both," said 
 Matilda. 
 
 " I am afraid it would not. For in my Sunday-school I 
 teach the Catechism." 
 
 " Don t the Catechism tell about Jesus ? " 
 
 " Some things, of course." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 103 
 
 " Our lessons tell all things about Him," said Matilda ; 
 " and that is what I learn." 
 
 " Do you learn about yourself ? " 
 
 " What about myself ? " 
 
 " How you ought to behave, and how you ought not to 
 behave." 
 
 "Why, I think learning about Jesus teaches one that] 
 said Matilda. 
 
 "I think there is nothing so good as coming home to learn 
 about home," said Clarissa. 
 
 The talk did not run in a way to please Matilda, and she 
 was silent. Presently they were called down to tea, every 
 body suffering from a fit of taciturnity. 
 
 " Maria, sit up straight," said Mrs Candy. 
 
 "I always sit so," was the answer. 
 
 "So, is not very graceful. Matilda does not sit so." 
 
 " Matilda was always straight ; it s her way," said Maria. 
 
 " Well, make it your way too. Come ! straighten up. 
 What shoulders ! One would think you were a boy playing 
 at leap-frog." 
 
 " I don t know what leap-frog is," said Maria, colouring ; 
 "and I don t think anybody would think I was anything 
 but a girl anyhow. I get tired sitting up straight." 
 
 "When? "asked Clarissa. 
 
 Matilda s head was quite indescribable in the turn it gave 
 at this moment. Her supper was done ; she was leaving the 
 table. 
 
 " You are not going into your mothers room ? " said her 
 aunt, catching her hand as she passed. 
 
 " You said you wished I would riot." 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I am going up there immediately. Don t 
 go out either, Matilda." 
 
 " I am going to church, Aunt Candy." 
 
 " I think not. Not to-night. I do not approve of so much 
 church-going for little girls. You can study your lesson, you 
 know, for next Sunday. I do not want to have anybody 
 else sick on my hands till your mother is well." 
 
 Matilda s face expressed none of her disappointment ; her 
 
104 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 head was even carried a little higher than usual as she left 
 the room. But outside the door her steps nagged ; and she 
 went slowly up the stairs, asking herself if she was bound 
 to mind what her aunt said. She was not clear about it. 
 In the abstract, Matilda was well enough disposed to obey 
 all lawful authority ; just now a spirit of opposition had risen. 
 Was this lawful authority? Mrs Englefield was sick, to be 
 sure ; but did that give Mrs Candy any right to interfere with 
 what was known to be Mrs Englefield s will when she was 
 not sick ? Matilda thought not. Then, on the other hand, 
 she did not wish to do anything to displease her aunt, who 
 had always been kind to her ; she did not wish to change the 
 relations between them. Slowly Matilda mounted stair after 
 stair till she got to her room. There she stood by the window 
 a moment, thinking and sorrowing ; for if she did not wish 
 to anger her aunt, neither did she wish to lose her evening in 
 church, her sight of Mr Richmond, and his sermon. And 
 just then, the clear, sweet sound of the church bell came, with 
 its first note, to tell that the service would begin in a quarter 
 of an hour. It sounded like a friend s voice calling her. Her 
 Aunt Candy s church bell joined in, and Mr Everett s church, 
 and Mr Schonflocker s church; but that one which Mr 
 Ulshoeffer rang was the loudest of all to Matilda s ear. 
 She could hardly stand it. Then Maria burst in. 
 
 " What are you going to do 1 " said Matilda. 
 
 " Do 1 Why, I am going to church, of course ; and in a 
 hurry." 
 
 " And Anne and Letty ?" 
 
 " Certainly ; and Issa too." 
 
 Matilda said no more, but hastily made herself ready, and 
 went down with the rest. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 105 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ANNE and Letitia were to leave home in the afternoon of 
 Monday; and Maria and Matilda went to school that morn 
 ing as usual. But when the noon hour came, Matilda called 
 her sister into a corner of the emptied schoolroom, and sat 
 down with a face of business. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said Maria ; " we must go home 
 to dinner." 
 
 " I should like to speak to you here first." 
 
 " About what ? Say it and be quick ; for I am ever 
 so hungry. Aunt Candy cut my breakfast short this 
 morning." 
 
 " I wanted to say to you that we had better take home 
 our books." 
 
 " What for 1 " said Maria, with opening eyes. 
 
 " Because, Maria, mamma was talking to me last night 
 about it. You know there will be no one at home now, after 
 to-day, but you and me." 
 
 " Aunt Erminia and Clarissa ? " 
 
 " Nobody to do anything, I mean." 
 
 " Can t they do anything ? I don t know what you are 
 talking of, Matilda ; but I know I want my dinner." 
 
 " Who do you think will get dinner to-morrow 1 " 
 
 " Well mother s sick of course ; and Anne and Letty are 
 going. I should think Aunt Candy might." 
 
 " No, she won t." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " Because mother said so. She won t do anything." 
 
 " Then she 11 have to get a girl to do things, I suppose." 
 
 " But Maria, that is just what mother wants she shouldn t 
 do ; because she d have to pay for it." 
 
 " Who would have to pay for it ? " 
 
106 
 
 " Mamma." 
 
 "Why would she?" 
 
 " She said so." 
 
 " I don t see why she would, I am sure. If Aunt Erminia 
 hires a girl, she II pay for her." 
 
 " But that will come out of what Aunt Erminia pays to 
 mamma; and what Aunt Erminia pays to mamma is what 
 we have got to live upon." 
 
 "Who said so?" 
 
 " Mamma said so." Matilda answered with her lip trem 
 bling ; for the bringing facts all down to hard detail was 
 difficult to bear. 
 
 " Well, I do think," exclaimed Maria, " if I had a sister 
 sick and not able to help herself, I would not be so mean." 
 
 Matilda sat still and cried and said nothing. 
 
 " Who is going to do all the work then, Tilly ? " 
 
 There would have been something comical, if it had not 
 been sad, in the way the little girl looked up and said, 
 "You and I." 
 
 " I guess we will!" said Maria, with opening eyes. "You 
 and I ! Take care of the house, and wash the dishes, and 
 cook the dinner, and everything ! You know we couldn t, 
 Matilda ; and what s more, / know we won t." 
 
 " Yes, mamma wishes it. We must ; and so we can, 
 Maria." 
 
 "/can t," said Maria, taking down her school cloak. 
 
 " But, Maria ! we must. Mamma will be more sick if we 
 do not ; you heard what Aunt Candy said at breakfast, that 
 she is fearfully nervous ; and if she hears that there is a 
 hired girl in the house, it will worry her dreadfully/ 
 
 " It will be Aunt Candy s fault then," said Maria, fasten 
 ing her cloak. "I never heard of anybody so mean in all my 
 life ! never." 
 
 " But that don t help anything, Maria. And you and I 
 must do what mamma said. You know we shall have little 
 enough to live on as it is, and if you take the pay of a hired 
 girl out of it, there will be so little left." 
 
 " I ve got my twenty-five dollars, that I can get summer 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 107 
 
 dresses with ; I am glad I haven t spent it/ said Maria. 
 "Come, Tilly; I m going home." 
 
 " But, Maria, you have not said what you ought to say 
 yet." 
 
 "What ought I to say?" 
 
 " I will help and do my part. We can manage it. Come, 
 Maria, say that you will." 
 
 "Your part," said Maria. "What do you suppose your 
 part would come to ? What can such a child as you do ? " 
 
 " Maria, now is the time to show whether you are really 
 one of the band of workers." 
 
 " I am, of course. I joined it." 
 
 " That would not make you one of them, if you don t do 
 what they promised to do." 
 
 ^ " When did I ever promise to be Aunt Candy s servant 
 girl ?" said Maria, fiercely, " I should like to know. 
 
 " But we are the servants of Christ, " said Matilda, softly, 
 her eyes glistening through tears. 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 "We promised to try to do whatever would honour 
 Him." 
 
 " I don t know what all this affair has to do with it," said 
 Maria. " You say we promised ; you didn t ? " 
 
 " Yes, I did." 
 
 "You didn t join the Band 1 " 
 
 "Yes, I did." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " A few days after you did." 
 
 " Why didn t you tell me ? Did you tell Mr Richmond ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "I think it is mean, that you did not tell me." 
 
 " I am telling you now. But now, Maria, you know what 
 you promised." 
 
 "I did not promise this sort of thing at all, Tilly." 
 
 " Yes, don t you know, we stand ready to do His will ? 
 That s in the covenant." 
 
 "But this is not His will," insisted Maria. "This is 
 Aunt Erminia s meanness." 
 
108 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 "But it certainly is His will that we should do what 
 mamma says, and please her ; and this is the work He has 
 given us to do." 
 
 Maria s answer this time was to sit down and cry for her 
 part. Matilda did not join her, but stood by, patiently 
 waiting. Maria cried and sobbed for several minutes ; then 
 she started up and set off homewards at a furious rate. 
 Matilda gathered together her books and folio wed her sister; 
 trying to comfort herself with the thought that this was 
 certainly the work given them to do, and that she would 
 try and make the best of it. 
 
 The dinner was sorrowful enough. Maria, indeed, ate it 
 as if remembering it was the last dinner for some time to 
 come that she would find ready prepared for her. But Anne 
 and Letty were broken down with grief ; and Mrs Candy s 
 endeavours to comfort them were either not the right sort, 
 or fell upon unready ears. Clarissa was composed as usual. 
 
 " You were late from school, Maria and Matilda," their 
 aunt remarked, finding Anne and Letty unmanageable. 
 " What was the reason 1 a 
 
 " Tilly was talking to me," Maria said. 
 
 " You could talk on the way home, I should think. I 
 dislike to have dinner eaten by stages ; first one set coming, 
 and then another. I am going to ask you to be punctual 
 for the future. Do not be in a hurry, Maria ; there is time 
 enough, now you are here, to eat moderately." 
 
 "I am hungry. I don t want to eat moderately, Aunt 
 Erminia." 
 
 " As much as you wish ; but you can be moderate in 
 manner, cannot you, even if not in quantity 1 " 
 
 "Nobody ever told me I eat too much, before," said 
 Maria. 
 
 " There are a great many things that you have never been 
 told, I suppose 1 " said Clarissa, lifting her handsome eyes 
 quietly. 
 
 " I don t care about your telling me either," said Maria. 
 
 " My dear, that is not polite," interposed her aunt. " I 
 am sorry to hear you speak so. Would you not like to 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 109 
 
 have Issa, or any one, tell you things that you would be the 
 better for. You would not wish to remain just as you are, 
 to the end of your days ? " 
 
 " It don t hurt anybody but me," said Maria. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Everything that is not graceful and 
 well-mannered, on the part of people in whose company we 
 are, hurts me and Clarissa. It hurts me to have you bolt 
 down your food as you were doing just now if I am sit 
 ting at the same table with you. And it hurts me to have 
 you speak rudely. I hope you will mend in all these 
 things." 
 
 "It will not hurt you to have us say good-bye," said 
 Anne, rising. " I will do that now, if you please. Letty, I 
 will leave you to take care of these things, and I will finish 
 the packing. We must be quick, too." 
 
 The farewell greetings with her aunt and cousin were 
 soon spoken and Maria and Matilda tore up-stairs after 
 their sister, to pour out tears and complaints together dur 
 ing the remaining moments of her being at home. Matilda s 
 tears, however, were quiet, and her words very few. 
 
 " Ain t she too bad ] " exclaimed Maria. 
 
 " You must try and hold your own the best you can," said 
 Anne, " until mamma gets up again. Poor children ! I 
 afraid she will be too much for you." 
 
 " But, Anne, did you think Aunt Candy was like that 1 " 
 said Maria. " She wasn t like that at first." 
 
 " I guess she was. All she wanted was a chance. Now 
 she s got it. Try and bear it the best you can till mamma 
 is well. She cannot be worried now." 
 
 " Is mamma very sick, Anne 1 " Matilda ventured. 
 
 " N-o," said Anne, " but she might be, Tilly, if she was 
 worried. The doctor says she is very nervous, and must be 
 kept quiet. She has been worrying so long, you see. So 
 you must try and not do anything to fret her." 
 
 The prospect was sad. When the omnibus came to take 
 Anne and Letty to the station, and when the last kisses 
 and hugs were over, arid the omnibus bounced away, carry 
 ing with it all they had at the moment, the two girls left at 
 
110 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 home felt forlorn enough. The only thing to be done was 
 to rush up-stairs to their room and cry their hearts out. 
 And that was done thoroughly. 
 
 But by and by, Matilda s thoughts, in their very extreme 
 need of comfort, began to take up the words again which she 
 had once found so good : " Cast thy burden upon the Lord; 
 He shall sustain thee." She left her sobbing, dried her eyes, 
 sat down by the window, and found the place in her Bible, 
 that her eyes might have the comfort of seeing and reading 
 the words there. The Lord s words : Tilly knew they were 
 true. But Maria sobbed on. At last her little sister called 
 her. 
 
 "What is it? "said she. 
 
 " Come here, and I will show you something good." 
 
 " Good 1 what 1 said Maria, approaching the window. 
 " Oh, words in the Bible ! " 
 
 " Read, Maria," 
 
 " I have read them before," said the other, sullenly, after 
 she had glanced at the place. 
 
 " But they are true, Maria." 
 
 "Well ; they don t help me." 
 
 " But they help me" said Matilda. "It s Jesus promise 
 to help." 
 
 "I don t believe it is for such things as this." 
 
 " Why not ? " said Matilda, a sudden chill coming over 
 her heart. "It says just Cast thy burden it might be 
 any burden ; it does not signify what it is, Maria." 
 
 " Yes, it does ; it is not for such little things," said Maria. 
 " It is for great religious people and their affairs. Oh dear ! 
 oh dear ! " 
 
 Sorely troubled now at having her supports knocked away 
 from under her, Matilda eagerly sought further, if perchance 
 she might find something that Maria could not question. 
 Her Bible had a few references in the margin ; consulting 
 these, she presently found what she had need of ; but a 
 feeling of want of sympathy between them forbade her to 
 show the new words to her sister. Matilda pored over them 
 uith great rest of heart ; gave thanks for them ; and might 
 
Ill 
 
 have used with truth David s language "Thy words were 
 found, and I did eat them." The words were these : 
 
 "Be careful for nothing ; but in everything, by prayer and 
 supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made 
 known unto God. And the peace of God that passeth 
 understanding shall keep your hearts and minds through 
 Christ Jesus." 
 
 Matilda s eyes were dry and her voice was clear, when she 
 reminded her sister that it was time to get tea. Maria 
 was accustomed to do this frequently, and made no objec 
 tion now. So the two went down together. Passing the 
 parlour door, however, it opened, and Mrs Candy called 
 Matilda in. 
 
 " I want to speak a word to you, Tilly," she said. " Did 
 you go out last evening?" 
 
 " Yes ; I did, Aunt Erminia." 
 
 " You went to church 1 " 
 
 Matilda assented ; but though she had bowed her head, it 
 seemed to be more erect than before. 
 
 " And I had told you not to go, had I not 1 You under 
 stood that?" 
 
 A silent assent was again all that the child gave. 
 
 " I am accustomed to be obeyed," said Mrs Candy. " That 
 is my way. It may not be your mother s way ; but all the 
 same, I am mistress here while she is sick ; mistress over 
 you as well as the rest. You must obey me like all the rest. 
 Will you?" 
 
 What was meant by "all the rest" Matilda marvelled, 
 seeing that nobody else but Maria and her own daughter 
 were left in the house. This time she gave no sign of 
 answering ; she only stood and listened. 
 
 "Will you obey me, Tilly?" 
 
 Matilda was not sure whether she would. In her mind it 
 depended on circumstances. She would obey, conditionally. 
 But she would not compromise her dignity by words about 
 it She was silent. 
 
 " I must be obeyed," Mrs Candy went on, with mild tones, 
 although a displeased face. " If not willingly, then un^^ 7 ill- 
 
112 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 ingly. I sliall punish you, Matilda, if you disobey me ; and 
 so severely that you will find it best not to do it again. But I 
 should be very sorry to have you drive me to such disagree 
 able doings. We should both be sorry together. It is much 
 best not to let things come to such extremity." 
 
 Matilda coloured high, but except that and the slight 
 gesture of her head, she yet gave no reply. 
 
 "That is enough upon that subject," the lady went on. 
 " Only, I should be glad to have you tell me that you will 
 try to please me." 
 
 " I wish to please everybody as far as I can," Matilda said 
 at last. 
 
 " Then you will please me ? " 
 
 "I hope so." 
 
 " She hopes so, Issa," said Mrs Candy, turning her head 
 round towards where her daughter sat. 
 
 " American children, mamma," was Clarissa s comment. 
 
 " There is another thing, Matilda," Mrs Candy resumed 
 after a slight pause. "Your mother has told me that Maria 
 is competent to do the work of the house until she gets well. 
 Is she 1 and will Maria, do you think, try to please me as 
 much as you do?" 
 
 " Yes, ma am. I think she can she and I. We will do 
 it," Matilda answered more readily. 
 
 " She and you ! What can you do ? ; 
 
 " I can help a little." 
 
 " Well then, that is settled ; and I need not look out for a 
 girl?" 
 
 " Oh no, Aunt Candy. She and I can do it." 
 
 " But mind, I must have things in order, and well done. 
 It is my sister s choice, that Maria should do it. But it is 
 not mine unless I can have everything in good order. You 
 may tell Maria so, and let her understand what it is she is 
 undertaking. I am to have no dusty stairs, and no half-set 
 tables. If she wants instruction in anything, I am willing 
 to give it ; but I cannot have disorder. Now you may go 
 and tell her ; and tell her to have tea ready in half an 
 hour." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 113 
 
 "What did she want of you?" Maria asked, when Matilda 
 rejoined her down-stairs. 
 
 " She wanted to talk to me about my going out last even 
 ing." 
 
 " Oh ! was she in a great fuss about it ?" 
 ^ And, Maria, she wants tea to be ready in half an hour." 
 " I 11 have it ready sooner than that/ said Maria, bustlino- 
 about. 
 
 " But you must not. She wants it in half an hour ; you 
 must not have it ready before." 
 
 " Why not 1 " said Maria, stopping short. 
 " Why, she wants it then. She has a right to have tea 
 when she likes." 
 
 But Matilda sighed as she spoke, for her aunt s likings 
 were becoming a heavy burden to her, in the present and in 
 the future. The two girls went gently round, setting the 
 table, cutting the bread, putting out the sweetmeat, getting 
 the teapot ready for the tea ; then they stood together over 
 the stove, waiting for the time to make it. 
 
 "There s one comfort," Matilda said, with another si-h ; 
 " we can do it all for Christ." 
 " What ? " said Maria, starting. 
 
 "It is work He has given us to do, you know, Maria; and 
 we have promised to do everything we can to please Him. 
 So we can do this to please Him." 
 
 " I don t see how," said Maria. This isn t Band work ; 
 do you think it is ? " 
 
 "It isn t Sunday-school work; but, Maria, you know, 
 we are the servants of Christ. Now He has given us this 
 work to do." 
 
 " That s just talking nonsense," said Maria. " There is no 
 religion in pots and kettles." 
 
 Matilda had to think her way out of that statement. 
 
 * Maria, in the covenant, you know, we say, we stand 
 ready to do His will ; and you know it is His will f,hat we 
 should have these things to do." 
 
 "I don t ! " said Maria ; "that s a fact." 
 
 " Then how comes it that we have them 1 " 
 
 II 
 
114 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 "Just because mamma is sick, and Aunt Erminia is too 
 mean to live ! " 
 
 " You should not speak so," said Matilda. " How comes 
 mamma to be sick 1 and how comes it that we have got no 
 mongy to hire a girl ? " 
 
 " Because that man in New York was wicked, and ran 
 away with mamma s money." 
 
 " Maria," said Matilda, solemnly, " I don t see what you 
 meant by joining the Band." 
 
 " I meant more than you did ! " said Maria, naming out. 
 "Such children as you are too young to join it." 
 
 " We are not too young to be Christians." 
 
 "You are too young to join the Church and be baptized." 
 
 " Why ?" said Matilda. 
 
 "Oh, you are too young to understand. Anybody that 
 knows will tell you so. And if you are not fit to be baptiezd 
 and join the Church, you are not fit to join the Band. Now 
 I can make the tea." 
 
 Matilda looked hard at the teapot, as it stood on the 
 stove while the tea was brewing ; but she let her sister 
 alone after that. When the meal was over, and the dishes 
 washed and everything done, she and Maria went up to 
 their own room, and Maria at once went to bed. Her little 
 sister opened her Bible, and read, over and over, the words 
 that had comforted her. They were words from God ; promises 
 and commands straight from heaven. Matilda took them 
 so, and studied earnestly how she might do what they bade 
 her. " Cast her burden on the Lord " how was she to do 
 that ] Clearly, she was not to keep it on her own heart, she 
 thought ; she must trust that the Lord would take care of 
 anything put into His hands. The words were very good. 
 And the other words, " Be careful for nothing " that was 
 the same thing differently expressed ; and Matilda felt very 
 glad it had been written for her in both places and in both 
 ways ; and that she was ordered "in everything" to "make 
 her requests known to God." She might not have dared, 
 perhaps, in some little troubles that only concerned a child 
 and were not important to anybody else ; but now there 
 
U WHAT SHE COULD." 1]5 
 
 could be no doubt-she might, and she must. She was 
 very glad. But, "with thanksgiving ? "-how could that 
 be always? Now, for instance? Things were more dis 
 agreeable and sorrowful than in all her life she had ever 
 known them ; give thanks ? " must she ? now ? And how 
 could she ? Matilda studied over it a good while. Finally 
 took to praying over it. Asked to be taught how she could 
 give thanks when she was sorry. And getting quite tired 
 at last went to bed, where Maria was already fast asleep. 
 
 There is no denying that Matilda was sorry to wake up 
 the next morning. But awake she found herself, and broad 
 awake too ; and the light outside the window admonished 
 her she had no time then to lie and think. She roused 
 Maria immediately, and herself began dressing without a 
 moment s delay. 
 
 " Oh, what s the hurry ? said Maria, yawning and stretch 
 ing herself. "I m sleepy." 
 
 " But it isn t early, Maria." 
 
 " Well ; I don t want it to be early." 
 
 "Yes, you do, Maria; you forget. We have a great 
 deal on our hands. Make haste, please, and get up. Do 
 Maria ! " 
 
 "What have we got to do so much?" said Maria, with 
 yawn the second. 
 
 " Everything. You are so sleepy, you have forgotten." 
 
 ^ Yes. I have forgotten," said Maria, closing her eyes. 
 
 ) Maria, please do get up ! I m almost dressed ; and 
 I can t do the whole, you know-. Won t you get up ?" 
 
 "What s the matter, Tilly ?" said her sister, rolling over 
 and opening her eyes quietly at Matilda. 
 
 "I am going down, Maria, in two minutes ; and I cannot 
 do everything, you know." 
 
 " Clarissa 11 help." 
 
 " If you expect that, Maria, you will be disappointed. I 
 wish you would come right down and make the fire." 
 
 Maria lay still. Matilda finished her dressing, and then 
 knelt down by the window. 
 
 The burden upon her seemed rather heavy, and she went 
 
116 
 
 to her only source of help. Maria lay and looked at the 
 little kneeling figure, so still there by the window ; glanced 
 at the glowing light outside the window, then at her scattered 
 articles of clothing, lying where she had thrown them or 
 dropped them last night ; and at last rolled herself out of 
 bed, and was dressing in earnest when Matilda rose up to 
 go down-stairs. 
 
 " Oh now, you 11 soon be ready ! " she exclaimed. "Make 
 haste, Maria ; and come down to the kitchen. The fire is 
 the first thing." 
 
 Then the little feet went with a light tread down the 
 stairs, that she might disturb nobody, and paused in the 
 hall. The light struggling in through the fanlights over 
 the door ; the air close ; a smell of kerosene in the parlour ; 
 chairs and table in a state of disarrangement ; the litter of 
 Clarissa s work on the carpet; the parlour stove cold. 
 Little Matilda wished to herself that some other hands 
 were there, not hers, to do all that must be done. But 
 clearly Maria would never get through with it. She stood 
 looking a minute ; then plunged into the work. She opened 
 the shutters and the curtains, and threw up the windows. 
 Then picked up the litter. Then she saw that the services 
 of a broom were needed; and Matilda fetched the broom, 
 and brushed out the parlour and the hall. It tired her 
 arms ; she was not used to it. Dusting the furniture was 
 more in her line ; and then Matilda came to the conclusion, 
 that if a fire was to be kindled in time this morning, it 
 must be done by herself ; Maria would be fully occupied in 
 the kitchen. So down-stairs she went for billets of wood 
 for kindling. There was Maria in trouble. 
 
 " This stove won t draw, Tilly." 
 
 "What is the matter]" 
 
 "Why that. It won t draw. It just smokes." 
 
 " It always does draw, Maria." 
 
 "Well, it won t to-day." 
 
 " Did you put kindling enough in 1, " 
 
 " There s nothing but kindling ! and smoke." 
 
 "Why, you ve got the damper turned, said Matilda, 
 
117 
 
 coming up to look ; " see, that a the matter. It won t light 
 with the damper turned." 
 
 " Stupid ! " Maria muttered ; and Matilda went off to 
 make her own fire. Happily that did not smoke. The 
 parlour and hall were all in nice order ; the books put in 
 their place, and everything ready for the comfort of people 
 when they should come to enjoy it ; and Matilda went to 
 join her sister in the kitchen. The fire was going there 
 too, and the kitchen warm, and Maria stood with her hands 
 folded, in front of the stove. 
 
 " I don t know what to get for breakfast," she said. 
 
 "Is the other room ready ? " 
 
 " I set the table," said Maria; "but what is to go on it, 
 I don t know." 
 
 Matilda went in to look at the state of things ; presently 
 called her sister. 
 
 " Maria, you didn t sweep the carpet." 
 
 " No. Of course I didn t. Rooms don t want to be swept 
 every day." 
 
 " This one does. Look at the muss under the table." 
 
 " Only some crumbs," said Maria. 
 
 "And a bone. Letty was in a hurry yesterday, I guess. 
 Aunt Candy won t like it, Maria ; it won t do." 
 
 " I don t care whether she likes it." 
 
 " But don t you care whether she scolds 1 because I do. And 
 the room is not nice, Maria. Mother wouldn t have it so." 
 
 " Well, you may sweep it if you like." 
 
 " I cannot. I am tired. You must make it nice, Maria, 
 won t you ? and I 11 see about the breakfast." 
 
 " The table a all set ! " Maria remonstrated. 
 
 " It won t take long to do it over, Maria. But what have 
 we got for breakfast ? " 
 
 " Nothing that I know." 
 
 " Did you look in the cellar ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Why, where did you look ? " said Matilda, laughing. 
 * Come ; let us go down and see what is there." 
 
 In the large, clean, light cellar there were hanging shelves 
 
118 
 
 which served the purposes of a larder. The girls peered 
 into the various stores collected on them. 
 
 " Here s a dish of cold potatoes," said Maria. 
 
 " That will do for one thing," said Matilda. 
 
 " Cold ] " 
 
 " Why, no ! fried, Maria," 
 
 " I can t fry potatoes." 
 
 " Why, yes, you can, Maria ; you have seen mamma do it 
 hundreds of times." 
 
 " Here s the cold beefsteak that was left yesterday." 
 
 " Cold beefsteak isn t good," said Matilda. 
 
 " Can t we warm it ] " 
 
 " How 1 " 
 
 " I don t know ; might put it in the oven ; it would get 
 hot there. There s a good oven." 
 
 " I don t think mamma ever warms cold beefsteak," said 
 Matilda, looking puzzled. 
 
 " What does she do with it ? she don t throw it away. 
 How do you know she doesn t warm it ? you wouldn t know, 
 when you saw it on the table, whether it was just fresh 
 cooked, or only warmed up. How could you tell 1 " 
 
 " Well," said Matilda, dubiously, " you can try. I wish I 
 could ask somebody." 
 
 " I shall not ask anybody up-stairs," said Maria, " Come 
 you take the potatoes and I will carry the beefsteak. 
 Then we will make the coffee and have breakfast, I in as 
 hungry as I can be." 
 
 " So am I," said Matilda ; and she sighed a little, for she 
 was tired as well as hungry. Maria set the dish of beefsteak 
 in the oven to get hot, and Matilda made the coffee. She 
 knew quite well how to do that. Then she came to the table 
 where Maria was preparing the potatoes to fry. Maria s 
 knife was going chop, chop, very fast. 
 
 " O Maria ! you should have peeled them ! " Matilda ex 
 claimed, in dismay. 
 
 " Peeled ! " said Maria, stopping short. 
 
 " Certainly. Why, you knew that, Maria, Potatoe parings 
 are not good to eat." 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 119 
 
 tl It takes ages to peel such little potatoes," said Maria. 
 
 "But you cannot eat them without being peeled," said 
 Matilda. 
 
 "Yes, you can ; it won t make any difference. I will fry 
 them so brown, nobody will know whether they have skins 
 on or not." 
 
 Matilda doubted very much the feasibility of this plan ; 
 but she left Maria and went off to make sure that the fires in 
 the other rooms were burning right and everything in proper 
 trim. Then she sat down in a rocking-chair in the eating- 
 room to rest, wishing very earnestly that there was somebody 
 to help who knew more about business than either she or 
 Maria. How were they to get along 1 And she had pro 
 mised her mother. And yet more, Matilda felt sure that just 
 this work had been given to her and Maria to do by the 
 Lord himself. Therefore they could do it for Him. There 
 fore, all the more, Matilda wanted to do it in the very nicest 
 and best way possible. She wished she had attended when 
 she had seen her mother cooking different things ; now she 
 might have known exactly how to manage. And that re 
 minded her, Maria s beef and potatoes must be done. She 
 ran into the kitchen. 
 
 " There ! " said Maria. " Can you see the skins now 1 " 
 
 " They are brown enough," said Matilda. " But, Maria, 
 they 11 be very hard ! " 
 
 " Never you mind," said Maria, complacently. 
 
 " Have you looked at your beefsteak ? " 
 
 " No ; but it must be hot before now." 
 
 Maria opened the oven door ; and then, with an exclama 
 tion, seized a cloth and drew out the dish of meat. The 
 dish took their attention first. It was as brown as Maria s 
 potatoes. It had gone into the oven white. 
 
 " It is spoiled," said Matilda. 
 
 "Who would have thought the oven was so hot!" said 
 Maria. " Won t it come all right with washing ? " 
 
 " You might as well wash your beefsteak," said Matilda, 
 turning away. 
 
 If the dish had gone in white, the meat had also 
 
120 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 gone in juicy; and if the one was brown the other was a 
 chip. 
 
 " This will not do for breakfast," said Maria, lugubriously. 
 
 "It is like your potatoes," said Matilda, with the ineffable 
 little turn of her head. 
 
 "Don t, Matilda! What shall we do? the coffee is 
 ready." 
 
 " We shall have a brown breakfast," said Matilda. " The 
 coffee will be the lightest coloured thing on the table." 
 And the two girls relieved themselves with laughing. 
 
 " But, Matilda ! what shall we do ? We must have some 
 thing to eat. ; 
 
 " We can boil some eggs," said Matilda. "Aunt Erminia 
 likes eggs ; and the coffee will be good, and the bread. And 
 the potatoes will do to look at." 
 
 So it was arranged ; and the bell was rung for breakfast 
 only five minutes after the time. And all was in order. 
 
 Even Mrs Candy s good eyes found no fault. And 
 breakfast went forward better than Matilda had dared to 
 hope. 
 
 " You have done your potatoes too much, Maria," Mrs 
 Candy remarked. 
 
 " Yes, ma am," Maria said, meekly. 
 
 " They want no more but a light colouring. And they 
 they should be cut thinner. These are so hard you can t 
 eat them. And, Maria, in future I will tell you what to get 
 for breakfast. I did not know when you went to bed last 
 night, or I should have told you then. You are not old 
 enough to arrange things. Now there was some beef left 
 from dinner yesterday, that would have made a nice hash." 
 
 Maria ate bread and butter, and spoke not. 
 
 " It will keep very well, and you can make it into hash 
 for to-morrow morning. Chop it as fine as you can, and 
 twice as much potato ; and warm it with a little butter and 
 milk and pepper and salt, till it is nice and hot ; and 
 poach a few eggs, to lay round it. Can you poach eggs, 
 Maria?" 
 
 " Yes, ma am. But there is no beef, Aunt Erminia." 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 121 
 
 " No beef ? You are mistaken. There was a large piece 
 that we did not eat yesterday." 
 
 " There is none now," said Maria. 
 
 " It must be down-stairs in the cellar." 
 
 " I am sure it is not, Aunt Erminia. I have been poking 
 into every corner there ; and there is no beef, I know." 
 
 " Maria, that is a very inelegant way of speaking. Where 
 did you get it ? " 
 
 "I don t know, ma am, I m sure. Out of the truth, I sup 
 pose. That s what I did." 
 
 " It is a very inelegant way of doing, as well as of speaking. 
 Poking into everything ! What did you poke ? your finger ] 
 or your hand ? " 
 
 "My nose, I suppose," said Maria, hardily. 
 
 " I think I need not tell you that that is a very vulgar ex 
 pression," said Mrs Candy, with a lofty air ; while Clarissa s 
 shoulders gave a little shrug, as much as to say her 
 mother was wasting time. "Don t you know any better, 
 Maria ? " 
 
 "Yes, ma am." 
 
 " Then I hope you will speak properly next time." 
 
 " One gets so tired of speaking properly ! " said Maria. 
 
 " You ?" said Clarissa, with a gentle intonation. 
 
 " I don t care ! " said Maria, desperately. " People are as 
 they are brought up. My mother don t care for such fidgety 
 notions. I speak to please her, and that is enough." 
 
 "No, Maria, it is not enough," resumed Mrs Candy. 
 " Your mother loves you, and so she is willing to overlook 
 little things in you that she can overlook because you are 
 her child ; but when you are grown up, you would wish to 
 be liked by other nice people, wouldn t you ? people of edu 
 cation, and taste, and elegant habits ; and they do not like 
 to have anything to do with people who poke their noses 
 into things, or who say that they do." 
 
 "I ll keep in the kitchen then," said Maria, hastily. 
 
 The breakfast may be said to have ended here ; for though 
 a few more mouthfuls were eaten, no more words were said. 
 Mrs Candy and her daughter left the room and went up- 
 
122 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 stairs. Maria and Matilda began the work of clearing the 
 table. 
 
 "Ain t she too much ? " Maria exclaimed. 
 
 "But, Maria," said her little sister, " I wish you wouldn t 
 say such things/ 7 
 
 " If I am going to be a kitchen maid," said Maria, " I may 
 as well talk kitchen maid." 
 
 " Oh, I don t think so, Maria ! " 
 
 " I don t care ! ; said Maria. " I would rather vex Aunt 
 Candy than not ; and she was vexed this morning. She kept 
 it in pretty well; but she was vexed." 
 
 " But, Maria, that isn t right, is it ? " 
 
 " Nothing is right," said Maria ; " and nothing is going to 
 be, I guess, while they are here." 
 
 " Then think, what would mamma do if they went away ?" 
 
 " I wish I could go away, then ! " said Maria, beginning 
 to cry. " I can t bear to live so ! Why do you do so/ and 
 why do you do so ; and Clarissa sitting by with that little 
 smile on her mouth, and lifting up her eyes to look at you 
 it just makes me mad. There! It is a pity Aunt Candy 
 wasn t here to be shocked at American children." 
 
 " But, Maria," said Matilda, with her eyes swimming too, 
 " you know the Lord Jesus has given us this work." 
 
 " No, I don t ! " said Maria ; " and what if He did ? " 
 
 " Why, then, it would please Him you know, Maria, it 
 would please Him to have us do it just nicely and beauti 
 fully, and not like kitchen maids, but like His children. 
 You know we said we were ready to do any work that He 
 would give us." 
 
 "I didn t, 7 said Maria, half crying, half pouting. "I 
 didn t promise to do this sort of thing." 
 
 " But we mustn t choose," said Matilda. 
 
 "But we did choose," said Maria. "I said what I would 
 do, and other people said what they would do ; and nobody 
 said anything about washing dishes and peeling potatoes. 
 We were not talking of that" 
 
 "The covenant says, we stand ready to do His will. 1 
 Don t you know ? " 
 
123 
 
 "I believe you know that covenant by heart," said Maria. 
 " I don t. And I don t care. Matilda, I wish you would 
 run down to the cellar with the butter, and the cream, and 
 the bread will you ? ;; 
 
 Matilda did not run, but she made journey after journey 
 down the cellar stairs, with feet that grew weary ; and then 
 she dried the china while her sister washed it. Then they 
 brushed up the kitchen and made up the fires. Then Maria 
 seated herself on the kitchen table and looked at Matilda. 
 
 "I m tired now, Tilly." 
 
 " So am I." 
 
 "Is there anything else to be done 1" 
 
 " Why, there is the dinner, Maria." 
 
 " It isn t near dinner time. It is only ten o clock." 
 
 " How long will it take the potatoes to boil ] " 
 
 " Oh, not long. It ia not time to put them on for a great 
 while." 
 
 " But they are not ready, are they 1 " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "And what else, Maria ? " 
 
 Here came a call from the stair head. Maria went to 
 the foot of the stairs to hear what the business was, and 
 came back with her mood nowise sweetened, to judge by the 
 way she went about ; filled an iron pot with water and set 
 it on the stove, and dashed things round generally. Matilda 
 looked on without saying a word. 
 
 " I ve got my day s work cut out for me now," said Maria 
 at last. "There s that leg of mutton to boil, and turnips 
 to be mashed ; besides the potatoes. And the turnips have 
 got to be peeled. Come and help me, Tilly, or I shall never 
 get through. Won t you ? " 
 
 Now Matilda had her own notions about things she liked 
 and things she did not like to do ; and one of the things she 
 did not like to do was to roughen or soil her hands. To put 
 her little hands into the pan of water, and handle and pare 
 the coarse roots with the soil hanging to them, was very 
 distasteful to her nicety. She looked a little dismayed. 
 But there were the roots all to be pared and washed, and 
 
124 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 Maria would have her hands full ; and was not this also 
 work given to Matilda to do ? At any rate, she felt that she 
 could not refuse without losing influence over Maria, and 
 that she could not afford. So Matilda s hands and her knife 
 went into the pan. She thought it was very disagreeable, 
 but she did it. After the potatoes and turnips were ready 
 for the pot, Maria demanded her help about other things ; 
 she must clean the knives, and set the table, and prepare the 
 celery and rub the apples, while Maria kept up the fire, and 
 attended to the cookery. Matilda did one thing after another ; 
 her weary little feet travelled out and in, from one room to 
 the other room, and got things in order for dinner in both 
 places. 
 
 It was a pretty satisfactory dinner, on the whole. The 
 mutton was well cooked and the vegetables were not bad, 
 Mrs Candy said ; but Matilda thought with dismay of the 
 after dinner dishes. However, dinner gives courage some 
 times ; and both she and Maria were stronger-hearted when 
 they rose from table than when they had sat down. Dishes, 
 and pots, and kettles, and knives, and endless details besides, 
 were in course of time got rid of ; and then Matilda put on 
 her hat and cloak, and set forth on an errand she had been 
 meditating. 
 
125 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 IT was a soft pleasant day late in March. The snow had all 
 gone for the present. Doubtless it might come back again ; 
 no one could tell ; in Shadywalk snow was not an unknown 
 visitor even in April ; but for the present no such reminder 
 of winter was anywhere to be seen. The air was still and 
 gentle ; even the brown tree stems looked softer and less 
 bare than a few weeks ago, though no bursting buds yet 
 were there to make any real change. The note of a bird 
 might be heard now and then ; Matilda had twice seen the 
 glorious colour of a blue bird s wings as they spread them 
 selves in the light. It was quite refreshing to get out of the 
 house and the kitchen work, and smell the fresh, pure air, 
 and see the sky, and feel that all the world was not between 
 four walls anywhere. Matilda went softly along, enjoying. 
 At the corner she turned, and walked up Butternut Street 
 so called, probably, in honour of some former tree of that 
 family, for not a shoot of one was known in the street now. 
 On and on she went till her church was passed, and then 
 turned down the little lane which led to the parsonage. The 
 snow all gone, it was looking pretty here. On one side the 
 old church, the new lecture-room on the other, and between 
 them the avenue of elms, arching their branches over the 
 way and making a vista, at the end of which was the brown 
 door of the parsonage. Always that was a pleasant view 
 to Matilda, for she associated the brown door with a great 
 many things ; however, this day she did not seek the old 
 knocker which hung temptingly overhead, but sheered off 
 and went round to the back of the house ; and there entered 
 at once, and without knocking, upon Miss Redwood s 
 premises. They were in order ; nobody ever saw the 
 parsonage kitchen otherwise ; and Miss Redwood was sit 
 ting in front of the stove, knitting. 
 
126 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 "Well, if there ain t Tilly Englefield !" was her salutation. 
 
 " May I come in, Miss Redwood I if you are not busy." 
 
 "Suppos n I was busy, I guess you wouldn t do me no 
 harm, child. Come right in and sit down, and tell me how s 
 all goin on at your house. How s your mother, fust thing? 
 
 " Aunt Candy says she s not any better." 
 
 " What does your mother say herself 1 " 
 
 " I have not seen her to-day. Aunt Candy says she is 
 nervous ; and she wants me not to go into her room." 
 
 " Who wants you not to go in 1 Not your mother 1 " 
 
 "No; Aunt Candy." 
 
 " I thought so. Well ; how do you get along without 
 your sisters, eh ? Have you got a girl, or are you goin to do 
 without ? " 
 
 " We are going to do without." 
 
 " I don t see how you kin, with your mother sick and 
 wantin somebody to tend her." 
 
 "Maria and I do what s to be done. Mamma doesn t 
 want us to get a girl." 
 
 " Maria and you ! " said Miss Redwood, straightening up. 
 (i I want to know ! You and Maria. Why, I didn t reckon 
 Maria was a hand at them kind o things. What can she 
 do, eh ? I want to know ! Things is curious in this world." 
 
 " Maria can do a good deal," said Matilda. 
 
 " And you can, too, can t ye ? " said Miss Redwood, with a 
 benevolent smile at her little visitor, which meant all love 
 and no criticism. 
 
 " I wish I knew how to do more," said Matilda. " I 
 could, if I knew how. That s what I came to ask you, Miss 
 Redwood ; won t you tell me ? " 
 
 "Tell you anything on arth," said the housekeeper. 
 "What do you want to know, child 1 " 
 
 "I don t know," said Matilda, knitting her brow. "I 
 want to know how to manage" 
 
 Miss Redwood s lips twitched, and her knitting needles 
 flew. 
 
 " So there ain t no one but you to manage ? " she said, at 
 length. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 127 
 
 " Aunt Candy tells what is to be for breakfast and dinner. 
 But I want to know how to do things. What can one do 
 with cold beefsteak, Miss Kedwood?" 
 
 " Tain t good for much," said the housekeeper. " Have 
 you got some on hand ? " 
 
 "No. We had, though." 
 
 " And what did you do with it ? " 
 
 u Maria and I put it in the oven to warm ; and it spoiled 
 the dish, and the meat was all dried up ; and then I thought 
 I would come and ask you. And we tried to fry some 
 potatoes this morning, and we didn t know how, I think. 
 They were not good." 
 
 " And so your breakfast all fell through ; and there was 
 a muss, I expect ? " 
 
 " No ; we had eggs ; nobody knew anything about the 
 beefsteak and the dish. Bat I want to know how to do." 
 
 " What ailed your potatoes 1 " 
 
 " They were too hard and too brown." 
 
 " I shouldn t wonder ! I declare, I most think I Ve 
 got into the middle of a fairy story somewhere. Did you 
 ever hear about Cinderella, Tilly, and her little glass 
 slipper ? " 
 
 " Oh yes." 
 
 " Some people s chariots and horses will find themselves 
 turned into pun kins some day ; that is what 1 believe." 
 
 " But about the potatoes ? " said Matilda, who could not 
 catch the connection of this speech. 
 
 "Well ; she let em be in too long. That was the trouble. 
 If you want to have things right, you must take em out 
 when they are done, honey." 
 
 " But how can we tell when they are done ? " 
 
 " Why, you know by just lookin at em. There ain t no 
 great trouble about it ; anyhow, there ain t about potatoes. 
 You just put some fat in a pan, and chop up your potatoes, 
 and when the fat is hot clap em in, and let em frizzle round 
 a spell ; and then when they re done you take em up. Did 
 you sprinkle salt in 1 " 
 
 " No." 
 
128 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 tf You must mind and sprinkle salt in, while they re in the 
 pan ; without that they 11 taste kind o flat." 
 
 " Aunt Erminia don t like them chopped up. She wants 
 them cut in thin slices and browned on both sides." 
 
 " Laws a massy ! why don t she do em so, then ? what 
 hinders her?" said the housekeeper, looking at Matilda, 
 " I thought she was one o them kind o folks as don t know- 
 nothing handy. Why don t she do her own potatoes, and 
 as brown as she likes, Tilly 1 " 
 
 " Mamma wants us to take care of things, Miss Red 
 wood." 
 
 " Won t let your aunt learn you, nother ? " said Miss 
 Redwood, sticking one end of her knitting-needle behind 
 her ear, and slowly scratching with it, while she looked at 
 Matilda. 
 
 " Aunt Candy does not like to do anything in the kitchen ; 
 and I would rather you would teach me, Miss Redwood if 
 you would." 
 
 " And can you learn Maria ? " 
 
 Oh yes." 
 
 " Well, come along ; what do you want to know next 1 " 
 
 " I wish you d teach me some time how to make ginger 
 bread. And pies." 
 
 The housekeeper glanced at the clock, and then bade 
 Matilda take off her things. 
 
 " Now ? " said Matilda, hesitating. 
 
 "You can t do nothing any time but now," said Miss Red 
 wood, as she put away her work in its basket. " You can 
 think of doing it ; but if you ever come to doing it, you will 
 find it is noiv." 
 
 " But is it convenient ? " 
 
 " La, child, I don t know what people mean by convenient. 
 You look at it one way, and there is nothing convenient ; 
 and you look at it another way, and there is nothing but 
 what is. Hang your things over that chair ; and I ll put an 
 apron on you." 
 
 " But which way does it look this afternoon, Miss Red 
 wood ? " 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD. 129 
 
 The housekeeper laughed, and kissed Tilly, whom she was 
 arraying in a great check apron, big enough to cover her. 
 
 "It is just how you choose to take it," she said, "I 
 declare I m sorry for the folks as is tied to convenience ; 
 they don t get the right good of their life. Why, honey, what 
 isn t my convenience is somebody else s convenience, maybe. 
 I want it to be sunshine very often, so as I kin dry my 
 clothes, when the farmers want it to be rain to make their 
 corn and cabbages grow. It is sure to be convenient for 
 somebody." 
 
 " But I want it to be convenient for you, this afternoon," 
 said Matilda, wistfully. 
 
 " Well, tis," said the housekeeper. " There wash your 
 hands in that bowl, dear ; and here s a clean towel for you. 
 A body as wants to have things convenient, had better not 
 be a minister s housekeeper. No, the place is nice enough," 
 she went on, as she saw Matilda s eye glance around the 
 kitchen ; " tain t that ; but I always think convenient 
 means having your own way ; and that nobody need expect 
 to do at the parsonage. Just so sure as I make pot pie, Mr 
 Richmond 11 hev to go to a funeral, and it s spiled or lost, 
 for he s no time to eat it ; and I never cleaned up that hall 
 and steps yet, but an army of boots and shoes came tramping 
 over it out of the dirt ; when if it wants cleaning, it 11 get 
 leave to be without a foot crossing it all the afternoon. And 
 if it s bakin day, I have visitors, and have to run between 
 them and the oven, till I don t know which end is the 
 parlour ; and that s the way, Tilly ; and I don t know no 
 better way but to conclude that somebody else s convenience 
 is yourn and then you 11 live in clover. The minister had 
 to preach to me a good while before I could see it, though. 
 Now, honey, sift your flour ; here it is. Kin you do it ? " 
 
 Matilda essayed to do it, and the housekeeper looked on. 
 
 " The damper is turned," she said ; " we 11 have the oven 
 hot by the time the cake is ready. Now, dear, what ; s going 
 into it ? " 
 
 "Will that be enough?" said Matilda, lifting her floury / 
 hand out of the pan. 
 
130 "WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 "I want a piece," said the housekeeper; "so there had 
 better go another bowlful. And the minister he likes a 
 bite of hot gingerbread, when he can get it. So shake it in, 
 dear. That will do. Now, what are you going to put in it, 
 Tilly, besides flour ] " 
 
 " Why, / don t know," said Matilda. 
 "Well, guess. What do you think goes into ginger 
 bread 1 " 
 
 " Molasses ? " 
 
 "Yes; but that goes one of the last things. Ain t you 
 going to put no shortening in ? " 
 
 " Shortening ? what is that ? " said Matilda. 
 " Well, it s whatever you ve got. Butter 11 do, if it s 
 nice and sweet like this is or sweet drippings 11 do, or a 
 little sweet lard, maybe. We 11 take the butter to-day, for 
 this is going to do you and me credit. Now think what 
 else 1 Put the butter right there, in the middle, and rub it 
 into the flour with the flat of your hand, so. Eub hard, 
 dear ; get the butter all in the flour, so you can t see it. 
 What is to go in next ? " 
 
 " Spice 1 I think mamma puts spice." 
 
 " If you like it, Wliat spice will you choose ? " 
 
 " I don t know, Miss Redwood." 
 
 " Well, it d be queer gingerbread without ginger, wouldn t 
 
 if?" 
 
 " Oh yes. I forgot the ginger, to be sure. How much ? " 
 
 " That s cordin as you like it. That won t hardly taste, 
 dear; taint just like red pepper; take a good cupful. 
 Now just a little bit of cloves ! " 
 
 " And cinnamon ? " 
 
 " It 11 be spice gingerbread, sure enough," said the house 
 keeper. "And salt, Tilly." 
 
 " Salt 1 Must salt go in ? " said Matilda, who had got 
 very eager now in her work. 
 
 "Salt s univarsal," said Miss Redwood. " Cept sweet 
 meats, it goes into everything. That s what makes all the 
 rest good. I never could see what was the use o salt, till 
 one day the minister, he preached a sermon on * Ye are the 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 131 
 
 salt of the earth/ and ever since that, it seems to kind o 
 put me in mind. And then I asked Mr Richmond if every 
 thing meant something." 
 
 " But what does that mean, that you said ? " said Matilda. 
 " Good people don t make the rest of the world good." 
 
 " They give all the taste there is to it, though," said the 
 housekeeper. " And I asked that very question myself of 
 the minister ; and what do you think he told me." 
 
 "What ?" 
 
 " He said it was because the salt warn t of as good quality 
 as it had ought to be. And that makes think, too. But la ! 
 look at your gingerbread standing still. Now see, dear, 
 here s a bowl o buttermilk for you ; it s as rich as cream, 
 a most ; and I take and put in a spoonful of you know 
 what this is ? " 
 
 "Sakeratus?" 
 
 " That s it." 
 
 " We use soda at our house." 
 
 " Salaeratus is good enough for me," said Miss Redwood ; 
 "and I know what it ll do; so I m never put out in my 
 calculations. Now when it foams up see, now mix your 
 cake, dear, as quick as you like. Stop wait let s get the 
 molasses in. Now, go on. I declare, having two pair o 
 hands kind o puts one out. Stir it up ; don t be afraid." 
 
 Matilda was not afraid, and was .very much in earnest. 
 The gingerbread was quickly mixed, and for a few minutes 
 there was busy work, buttering the pans and putting the 
 mixture in them, and setting the pans in the oven. Then 
 Matilda washed her hands ; the housekeeper put the flour 
 and spices away ; and the two sat down to watch the baking. 
 
 "It ll be good," said the housekeeper. 
 
 " I hope it will," said Matilda. 
 
 " I know twill," said Miss Redwood. " You do your part 
 right ; and these sort o things flour, and butter, and meat, 
 and potatoes, and that don t never disapint you. That s 
 one thing that is satisfactory in this world." 
 
 "But mamma has her cake spoiled in the oven some 
 times." 
 
132 
 
 " Twarn t the oven s fault," said Miss Redwood. "Did 
 ye think it was ? Ovens don t do that for me, never." 
 
 " But sometimes the oven was too hot," said Matilda ; 
 " and other times she said it was not hot enough." 
 
 "Of course !" said the housekeeper; "and then again 
 other times she forgot to look at it, maybe, and left her cake 
 in too long. The cake couldn t knock at the door of the 
 oven to be let out ; that d be too much to ask. Now look 
 at yourn, dear." 
 
 Matilda opened the oven door and shut it again. 
 
 " What s the appearance of it ] " 
 
 "It is coming up beautifully. But it isn t up in the 
 middle yet." 
 
 " The fire s just right," said the housekeeper. 
 
 "But how can you tell, Miss Redwood 1 ?" said Matilda, 
 standing by the stove with a most careful set of wrinkles on 
 her little brow. 
 
 "Tell?" said the housekeeper; "just as you tell anything 
 else ; after you ve seen it fifty times, you know." 
 
 Matilda began a painful calculation of how often she could 
 make something to bake, and how long it would be till fifty 
 times had made her wise in the matter ; when an inner door 
 opened, and the minister himself came upon the scene. 
 Matilda coloured, and looked a little abashed ; the house 
 keeper smiled. 
 
 " I am very glad to see you here, Tilly," Mr Richmond 
 said, heartily. " What are you and Miss Redwood doing 
 here?" 
 
 " We are getting ready for the business of life," said the 
 housekeeper. " The minister knows there are different ways 
 of doin that." 
 
 " Just what way are you taking now?" said Mr Richmond, 
 laughing. " It seems to me, you think the business of life 
 is eating if I may judge by the smell of the preparation." 
 
 "It is time you looked at your cake, Tilly," said Miss 
 Redwood ; and she did not offer to help her ; so, blushing 
 more and more, Matilda was obliged to open the oven door 
 again, and show that she was acting baker. The eyes of 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 133 
 
 the two older persons met in a way that was pleasant to 
 see. 
 
 " What s here, Tilly ] " said the minister, coming nearer 
 and stooping to look in himself. 
 
 "Miss Redwood has been teaching me how to make 
 gingerbread. Miss Redwood, it is beginning to get brown 
 at the end." 
 
 " Turn the pans round, then. It ain t done yet." 
 
 " No, it isn t done, for it is not quite up in the middle. 
 There is a sort of hollow place." 
 
 " Shut up your oven, child, and it will be all right in a 
 few minutes." 
 
 " Then I think this is the night when you are going to 
 stay and take tea with me," said Mr Richmond. "I pro 
 mised you a roast apple, I remember. Are there any more 
 apples that will do for roasting, Miss Redwood ? " 
 
 " O Mr Richmond, I do not care for the apple ! " Matilda 
 cried. 
 
 " But if I don t have it, you will stay and take tea with 
 me?" 
 
 Matilda looked wistful, and hesitated. Her mother 
 would not miss her; but could Maria get the tea without 
 her? 
 
 " And I dare say you want to talk to me about something ; 
 isn t it so ? " the minister continued. 
 
 "Yes, Mr Richmond; I do." 
 
 " That settles it. She will stay, Miss Redwood. I shall 
 have some gingerbread, I hope. And when you are ready, 
 Tilly, you can come to me in my room." 
 
 The minister quitted the kitchen in good time, for now 
 the cakes were almost done and needed care. A little 
 watchful waiting, and then the plumped up, brown, glossy 
 loaves of gingerbread said to even an inexperienced eye that 
 it was time for them to come out of the oven. Miss Red 
 wood showed Matilda how to arrange them on a sieve, where 
 they would not get steamy and moist ; and Matilda s eye 
 surveyed them there with very great satisfaction. 
 
 "That s as nice as if I had made it myself," said the 
 
134 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 housekeeper. " Now, don t you want to get the minister s 
 tea?" 
 
 " What shall I do, Miss Eedwood ? " 
 
 "I thought maybe you d like to learn how to manage 
 something else. He s had no dinner to-day to speak of; 
 and if eatin ain t the business of life which it ain t, I guess, 
 with him yet stoppin eatin would stop business, he d find ; 
 and I m going to frizzle some beef for his supper, and put 
 an egg in. Now I ll cut the beef, and you can stir it, if you 
 like." 
 
 Matilda liked very much. She watched the careful shav 
 ing of the beef in paper-like fragments; then at the house 
 keeper s direction she put some butter in a pan on the fire, 
 and when it was hot threw the beef in and stirred it back 
 and forward with a knife, so as not to let it burn, and so as 
 to bring all the shavings of beef in contact with the hot pan 
 bottom, and into the influence of the boiling butter. At the 
 moment of its being done, the housekeeper broke an egg or 
 two into the pan ; and then in another moment bade Matilda 
 take it from the fire and turn it out. Meanwhile Miss Red 
 wood had cut bread and made the tea. 
 
 " Now you can go and call the minister," she said. 
 
 Matilda thought she was having the rarest of pleasant 
 times, as she crossed the little dining-room and the square 
 yard of hall that came next, and went into the study. Fire 
 was burning in the wide chimney there as usual ; the room 
 was very sweet and still ; Mr Richmond sat before the fire 
 with a book. 
 
 " I thought you were coming to talk to me, Tilly 1 " he 
 said, stretching out his hand to draw h^r up to him. 
 
 "Miss Redwood was showing me how to do things, Mr 
 Richmond." 
 
 " Then you do want to talk to me ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, sir. But, Mr Richmond, tea is ready." 
 
 "We ll eat first then, and talk afterward. What is the 
 talk to be about, Tilly ? just to give me an idea." 
 
 "It is about I do not know what is right about some 
 thing, Mr Richmond. I do not know what I ought to do." 
 
135 
 
 " Have you looked in the Bible to find out ? " 
 
 " No, sir. I didn t know where to look, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " Have you prayed about it 1 " 
 
 Matilda hesitated, but finally said again, " No." 
 
 " That is another thing you can always do. The Lord 
 understands your difficulties better than any one else can, 
 and knows just what answer to give you. ;; 
 
 " But an answer ? will He give it always ? " 
 
 "Always provided you are perfectly willing to take it, 
 whatever it may be ; and provided you do your part." 
 
 "What is my part?" 
 
 " If I sent you to find your way along a road you did not 
 know, where there were guide posts set up ; what would be 
 your part to do ? ); 
 
 " To mind the guide posts V 
 
 " Yes, and go on as they bade you. That is not to prevent 
 your asking somebody you meet on the road, if you are 
 going right ? Now Miss Redwood has rung her bell, and 
 you and I must obey it." 
 
 "But what are the guide posts, Mr Richmond ?" 
 
 " We will see about that after tea. Come." 
 
 Matilda gave one wondering thought to the question how 
 Maria arid tea would get along without her at home ; and 
 then she let all that go, and resolved to enjoy the present 
 while she had it. Certainly it was very pleasant to take 
 tea with Mr Richmond. He was so very kind, and attentive 
 to her wants ; and so amusing in his talk ; and the new 
 gingerbread looked so very handsome, piled up in the cake 
 basket ; and Miss Redwood was such a variety after Mrs 
 Candy. Matilda let care go. And when it came to eating 
 the gingerbread, it was found to be excellent. Mr Richmond 
 said he wished she would come often and make some for 
 him. 
 
 " Do you know there is a meeting of the Band this 
 evening ? " 
 
 " I had forgotten about it, Mr Richmond ; I have been 
 so busy." 
 
 " It is lucky you came to take tea with me, then," said he. 
 
136 
 
 " Perhaps you would have forgotten it altogether. What is 
 Maria doing ? " 
 
 " She is busy at home, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " I am sorry for that. To-night is the night for questions ; 
 I am prepared to receive questions from everybody. Have 
 you got yours ready ? " 
 
 "About Band work, Mr Richmond 1 " 
 
 " Yes, about Band work. Though you know that is only 
 another name for the Lord s work, whatever it may be that 
 He gives us to do. Now we will go to my study and attend 
 to the business we were talking about." 
 
 So they left Miss Redwood to her tea-table ; and the min 
 ister and his little guest found themselves alone again. 
 
 " Now, Tilly, what is it ? " he said, as he shut the door. 
 
 "Mr Richmond/ said Matilda, anxiously, "I want to 
 know if I must mind what Aunt Erminia says ?" 
 
 " Mrs Candy ? " said Mr Richmond, looking surprised. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " The question is, whether you must obey her ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I should say, if you doubt about any of her commands, 
 you had better ask your mother, Tilly." 
 
 " But I cannot see my mother, Mr Richmond ; that is one 
 of the things. Mamma is sick, and Aunt Candy has for 
 bidden me to go into her room. Must I stay out 1 " 
 
 " Is your mother so ill 1 " 
 
 " No, sir, I do not think she is ; I don t know ; but Aunt 
 Candy says she is nervous ; and I must not go in there with 
 out leave." And Matilda raised appealing eyes to the 
 minister. 
 
 " That is hard, Tilly, I am very sorry to hear it. But I 
 am of opinion that the authority of nurses must not be dis 
 puted. I think if Mrs Candy says stay out, you had better 
 stay out." 
 
 "And everything else?" said Matilda. "Must I mind 
 what she says in everything else ? " 
 
 " Are you under her orders, Matilda ? " 
 
 " That is what I want to know, Mr Richmond. She says 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 137 
 
 so. She told me not to go out to church last Sunday night ; 
 and all the others were going, and I went too ; and she 
 scolded about it and said I must mind her. Must I? in 
 everything ? I can t ask mamma." 
 
 Mr Eichmond turned a paper-weight over and over two or 
 three times without speaking. 
 
 " You know what the fifth commandment is, Tilly." 
 
 " Yes, Mr Richmond. But she is not my mother." 
 
 " Don t you think she is in your mother s place just now 1 
 Would not your mother wish that your obedience should be 
 given to your aunt for the present 1 " 
 
 Matilda looked grave, not to say gloomy. 
 
 "I can tell you what will make it easy," said Mr Richmond. 
 " Do it for the sake of the Lord Jesus. He set us an ex 
 ample of obedience to all lawful authorities ; He has com 
 manded us to live in peace with everybody as far as we 
 possibly can ; and to submit ourselves to one another in the 
 fear of God. Besides that, I must think, Tilly, the command 
 to obey our parents means also that we should obey who 
 ever happens to stand in our parents place to us. Will it 
 not make it easy to obey your aunt, if you think that you 
 are doing it to please God ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr Richmond," Matilda said, thoughtfully. 
 
 " I always feel that God s command sweetens anything," 
 the minister went on. " Do you feel so 1" 
 
 "I think I do," the little girl answered. 
 
 "So if you stay at home for Mrs Candy s command, you may 
 reflect that it is for Jesus sake ; and that will please Him a 
 great deal better than your going to church to please yourself." 
 
 " Yes, Mr Richmond," Matilda said, cheerfully. 
 
 " Was that all you had to talk to me about ?- " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; all except about Band work." 
 
 " We will talk about that in the meeting. If you have a 
 question to ask, write it here ; and I will take it in and 
 answer it." 
 
 He gave Matilda paper and pen, and himself put on his 
 overcoat. Then taking her little slip of a question, the two 
 went together into the lecture-room. 
 
138 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THERE was a good little gathering of tlie workers, many of 
 whom were quite young persons. Among them Matilda 
 was not a little surprised to see Maria. But she warily 
 sheered off from comments and questions, and took a seat 
 in another part of the room. 
 
 " We are here for a good talk to-night," said the minister, 
 after they had sung and prayed. " I stand ready to meet 
 difficulties and answer questions. All who have any more 
 little notes to lay on the desk, please bring or send them up, 
 or ask their questions by word of mouth. I will take the 
 first of these that comes to hand." 
 
 Mr Richmond unfolded a paper and read it over to him 
 self, in the midst of a hush of expectation. Then he read it 
 aloud. 
 
 " If a member of the Relief Committee visits a sick person 
 in want of help, and finds another member of some other 
 committee giving the help and doing the work of the Relief 
 Committee, which of them should take care of the case ? " 
 
 " It is almost as puzzling," said Mr Richmond, " as that 
 other question, what husband the woman should have in the 
 other world who had had seven in this? But as we are not 
 just like the angels in heaven yet, I should say in this and 
 similar cases, that the one who first found and undertook the 
 case should continue her care or his care if he or she be so 
 minded. The old rule of first come, first served, is a good 
 one, I think. The Relief Committee has no monopoly of 
 the joy of helping others. Let us see what comes next. 
 
 " There are four people, I know, who go to read the Bible 
 to one blind person and I know of at least two who are 
 sick and unable to read, that nobody goes to. 
 
 " Want of system," said Mr Richmond, looking up. " The 
 
139 
 
 head of the Bible-reading Committee should be told of these 
 facts." 
 
 " She has been told," said a lady in the company. 
 
 " Then doubtless the irregularity will be set to rights." 
 
 "No, it is not so certain ; for the blind person lives where 
 it is easy to attend her ; and the sick people are in Lilac 
 Lane out of the way, and in a disagreeable place." 
 
 "Does the head of the Bible-reading Committee decline 
 these cases, having nobody that she can send to them ] " 
 
 " She says she does not know whom to send." 
 
 " I will thank you for the names of those two cases by 
 and by, Mrs Norris ; I think I can get them supplied. The 
 question of theory I will handle presently, before we 
 separate. 
 
 " Here is another request," said Mr Richmond, who knew 
 Matilda s handwriting, "from a dear child, who asks to 
 know what we shall do, when people will not hear the 
 message we carry "? Why, try again. Go and tell them 
 again ; and never mind rebuffs if you get them. People did 
 riot listen to our Master ; it is no matter of wonder if they 
 refuse to hear us. But He did not stop His labours for 
 that ; neither must we. Let us not be weary in well-doing ; 
 for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. I give her 
 that for her watchword ; If we faint not, remember. 
 
 " The next question in my hand is, what we are to do 
 about welcoming strangers? The writer states, that six 
 new scholars have lately come to the school, and, to her 
 certain knowledge, only two of them have received any 
 welcome. 
 
 "Well," said Mr Richmond, thoughtfully, "I must come 
 to the words I had chosen to talk to you about. They 
 answer a great many things. You all remember a verse in 
 the Epistle to the Ephesians which speaks of redeeming 
 the time, because the days are evil. 
 
 " I dare say it has puzzled some of you, as it used once to 
 puzzle me. How are we to redeem the time 1 Another 
 translation of the passage will perhaps be clearer and help 
 us to understand. Buying up opportunities The words 
 
140 
 
 are so rendered by a late grgat authority. I don t know 
 but you will at first think it just as hard to comprehend. 
 How are we to buy up opportunities 1 " 
 
 " I am sure I don t know," said Mrs Swan, Ailie s mother. 
 "I always thought opportunities were given." 
 
 " So they are. But the privilege of using them, we often 
 must buy." 
 
 " I don t see how." 
 
 " Let us come to facts, Mrs Swan. Here are four oppor 
 tunities in the school, in the shape of new members added 
 to it. How comes it these opportunities have not been used ? 
 There are two other grand opportunities in Lilac Lane." 
 
 "Are we to buy them ? " said Mrs Trembleton. 
 
 " I do not see how else the difficulty can be met. They 
 are worth buying. But the next question is, What will you 
 pay?" 
 
 There was a long silence, which nobody seemed inclined 
 to break. 
 
 "I think you see, my dear friends, what I mean. For 
 welcoming those four strangers, somebody must give up his 
 ease for a moment must make a little sacrifice of comfort. 
 It will be very little indeed, for these things pay as we go; 
 we get our return promptly. The opportunities in Lilac 
 Lane must be bought, perhaps, with some giving up of time ; 
 of pleasure, perhaps ; perhaps we must pay some annoyance. 
 It is so with most of our opportunities, dear friends. He 
 who serves God with what costs him nothing, will do very 
 little service, you may depend on it. Christ did not so ; who, 
 though He was rich, yet for our sakes He became poor, 
 that we through His poverty might be rich. He pleased 
 not Himself. And we, if we are His servants, must be 
 ready to give everything, if need be, even our lives also, to 
 the work He calls us to do. We must buy up opportunities 
 with all our might, paying not only time and money, but 
 love, and patience, and self-denial, and self-abasement, and 
 labour, and pains-taking. We cannot be right servants of 
 God, or happy servants, and keep back anything. Let a 
 man so account of us, as ministers of Christ, and stewards 
 
141 
 
 of the mysteries of God ; and let us see that all the grace 
 He gives us we use to the very uttermost for His glory, in 
 works, and love, and service, and faith, and patience, and 
 works. My dear friends, if we have only love in our hearts, 
 love will buy up opportunities as fast as they come, and 
 always have the right money." 
 
 Mr Richmond said no more, but after another hymn and 
 a prayer dismissed the assembly. Maria and Matilda pre 
 sently found themselves side by side in the street. 
 
 " Maria," said the younger one, " don t you think you 
 and I will go and read to those two poor people in the lane V 
 
 " I guess I will ! " said Maria, " when I get done being 
 chief cook and bottle-washer to Mrs Minny Candy." 
 
 " But before that, Maria ? " 
 
 " When shall I go ? " said Maria, sharply. " When it is 
 time to get breakfast? or when the potatoes are on for dinner ? 
 or when I am taking the orders for tea 1 Don t be a goose, 
 Matilda, if you can help it." 
 
 "We haven t much time," said Matilda, sighing. 
 
 " And I am not going to Lilac Lane, if I had it. There 
 are enough other people to do that." 
 
 " O Maria ! " 
 
 "Well, Maria/ there are." 
 
 " But they do not go." 
 
 "That s their look out." 
 
 "And, Maria, you see what Mr Richmond thinks about 
 tlie Dows." 
 
 " I don t see any such thing." 
 
 " You heard him to-night." 
 
 " He didn t say a word about the Dows." 
 
 " But about trying again, he did. Maria, I ve thought 
 a great many times of that Dows house." 
 
 " So have I," said Maria; " what fools we were." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Why, because it was no use." 
 
 " Mr Richmond doesn t think so." 
 
 " He s welcome to go and try for himself. / am not 
 going again." 
 
142 
 
 " What is the matter, Maria ? " 
 " Nothing is the matter." 
 
 " But, Maria, ever since you joined the Band, I cannot 
 remember once seeing you buy up opportunities. If you 
 loved Jesus, I think you would." 
 
 "I wouldn t preach," said Maria. "That is one thing I 
 wouldn t do. If I was better than my neighbours, I d let 
 them be the ones to find it out." 
 
 Matilda was silent till they reached home. 
 
 " Where have you been, Matilda ? " said her aunt, opening 
 the parlour door. 
 
 " To see Miss Redwood, Aunt Candy." 
 
 "Ask me, next time, before going anywhere. Here has 
 Maria had everything to do since five hours ago, all alone." 
 
 Matilda shut her lips firmly, if her head took a more up 
 right set on her shoulders she did not know it, arid went 
 up-stairs after her sister. 
 
 "How is mamma, Maria?" she asked, when she got 
 there. 
 
 " I don t know. Just the same." 
 
 The little girl sighed. 
 
 " What is to be for breakfast ? " 
 
 "Fish balls." 
 
 " You do not know how to make them." 
 
 " Aunt Erminia told me. But I shall want your help, 
 Tilly, for the fish has to be carefully picked all to pieces ; 
 and if we leave a bit as big as a sixpence, there ll be a 
 row." 
 
 " But the fish isn t soaked, Maria/ 
 
 "It is in hot water on the stove now. It will be done by 
 morning." 
 
 Matilda sighed again deeply, and knelt down before the 
 table where her Bible was open. " Buying up opportunities" 
 floated through her head ; with " works, and love, and ser 
 vice, and faith, and patience, and works "* " Christ pleased 
 not Himself "and the little girl s head went down upon the 
 open page. How much love she must have, to meet all the 
 * Alford s translation. 
 
143 
 
 needs for it ! to do all the works, have all the patience, buy 
 up all the opportunities ! Tilly s one prayer was that she 
 might be full of love, first to God and then to everybody. 
 
 Such prayers are apt to be answered ; and the next morn 
 ing saw her go through all the details of its affairs with a 
 quiet patience and readiness which must have had a deep 
 spring somewhere. She helped Maria in the tedious picking 
 out of the fish ; she roasted her cheeks in frying the balls, 
 while her sister was making porridge ; she attended to the 
 coffee ; and she met her aunt and cousin at breakfast with 
 an unruffled quiet sweetness of temper. It was just the drop 
 of oil needed to keep things going smoothly ; for Maria was 
 tired and out of humour, and Mrs Candy disposed to be ill- 
 pleased with both the girls for their being out at the Band 
 meeting. She did not approve of the whole thing, she said. 
 However, the sunshine scattered the clouds away. And 
 when, after a busy morning and a pretty well got-up dinner, 
 Matilda asked leave to go out and take a walk, she had her 
 reward. Mrs Candy gave permission. 
 
 " Won t you come too, Maria 2 " she asked, when they 
 went to their own room. 
 
 " There s no fun in walking, Maria answered, disconso 
 lately. 
 
 " 1 am going to Lilac Lane." 
 
 " I hope you don t think there is any fun in that." 
 
 But, Maria ! " 
 
 " Well, what 1 " 
 
 " I think there is something a great deal better than fun." 
 
 " You may have it all then for me." 
 
 " Maria," said her little sister, gently, " I wish you wouldn t 
 mind. Mamma will get well by and by, and this will be 
 all over ; and we are getting along so nicely. Aunt Candy 
 was quite pleased with the dinner." 
 
 " There s another dinner to get to-morrow," said Maria ; 
 " and I don t know what you mean by this being all over 
 when mamma gets well. What difference will her getting 
 well make ? She will help, to be sure ; but we should have 
 the same things to do just the same." 
 
144 
 
 Matilda had not reckoned on that, for she looked sober a 
 minute or two. 
 
 " Well, Maria," she said then, clearing up, " I don t care. 
 If Jesus has given us this to do, you know, I like to do it j 
 because He has given it to us to do." 
 
 Maria turned away impatiently. 
 
 " Maria," said her little sister, drawing nearer and speak 
 ing solemnly, " do you intend to ask Mr Kichmond to baptize 
 you the next time he has the baptismal service ? " 
 
 " If I do," said Maria, " you need not trouble yourself 
 about it." 
 
 And Matilda thought she had better let the subject and 
 her sister both alone for the present. She had got herself 
 ready, and now taking her Bible she went out. It was but 
 a, little way to the corner. There she turned in the opposite 
 direction from the one which would have taken her to 
 church, and crossed the main street. In that direction, 
 farther on, lay the way to Lilac Lane ; but at the other 
 corner of the street Matilda found an interruption. Some 
 body stopped her, whom she knew the next instant to be 
 Norton Laval. 
 
 " Why, it is Matilda Englefield ! " he said. " You are just 
 the one I want to see." 
 
 " Am 1 1 " said Matilda. 
 
 " I should think so. Come along ; our house lies that 
 way ; don t you recollect 1 " 
 
 " Oh, but I am not going that way now," said Matilda. 
 
 " Oh yes, but you are ! Mamma says contradicting is 
 very rude, but I can t help it sometimes. Can you help it, 
 Matilda r ; 
 
 " People ought to be contradicted sometimes," Matilda 
 said, with an arch bridling of her head, which , to be sure, 
 the child was quite unconscious of. 
 
 " Not I," said Norton. " Come ! " 
 
 " Oh, but I cannot, Norton. I wish I could. Not this 
 time." 
 
 " Where are you going 1 " 
 
 "Up that way." 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 145 
 
 " Nobody lives up that way." 
 " Nobody ? Just look at the houses." 
 " Nobody lives in those houses," said Norton. 
 " Oh, very well ; then I am going to see nobody." 
 " No, Matilda ; you are coming to see mamma. And I 
 have something to show you ; a new beautiful game, which 
 mamma has got for me ; we are going to play it on the 
 lawn, when the grass is in order, by and by ; and I want 
 you to come and see it now, and learn how to play. Come 
 Matilda, I want to show it to you." 
 
 Matilda hesitated. It did not seem very easy to get rid 
 of Norton ; but what would become of the poor people in 
 Lilac Lane 1 Would another time do for them 1 Here was 
 Norton waiting for her ; arid a little play would be so plea 
 sant. As she stood irresolute, Norton, putting his arm 
 round her affectionately, and applying a little good-humoured 
 force, gave her shoulders without much difficulty the turn 
 he wished them to take. The two began to move down the 
 street towards Norton s home. But as soon as this was 
 done, Matilda began to have qualms about her dress. Nor 
 ton was in a brown suit that fitted him, fresh and hand 
 some ; his cap sat jauntily on his thick, wavy hair ; he was 
 nice from head to foot. And Matilda had come out in the 
 home dress she had worn while she and Maria had been 
 washing up the dinner dishes. Looking down she could see 
 a little wet spot on the skirt now. That would dry. But 
 then her boots were her everyday boots, and they were a 
 little rusty ; and she had on her common school hat. 
 The only thing new and bright about her was her Bible 
 under her arm. As her eye fell upon it, so did her com 
 panion s eye. 
 
 "What book have you got there?" he asked, and then 
 put out his hand to take it. " A Bible ! Where were you 
 going with this, Matilda ? " 
 
 *| It is my Bible," said the little girl. 
 " Yes ; but you do not take your Bible out to walk with 
 you, do you, as babies do their dolls ?" 
 " Of course not." 
 
146 
 
 " Then what for, Matilda 1 " 
 
 " Business." 
 
 " What sort of business ? " 
 
 "Why do you want to know, Norton? It was private 
 business." 
 
 " I like that," said Norton. " Why do I want to know ? 
 Because you are Matilda Englefield, and I like to know all 
 about you." 
 
 " You do not know much yet," said Matilda, looking with 
 a pleased look, however, up into her companion s face. It 
 was smiling at her, with a complacent look to match. 
 
 " I shan t know much when I know all," he said. " How 
 old are you ? You can t make much history in ten years." 
 
 " No, not much," said Matilda. " But still it may not 
 be history to other people, but I think it is to one s self." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Oh, one s life, you know." 
 
 " But ten years is not a life," said Norton. 
 
 " It is, if one hasn t lived any longer." 
 
 " I would like my life to be history to other people," said 
 Norton. " Something worth while." 
 
 " I wouldn t like other people to know my life, though," 
 said Matilda. 
 
 " They could not help it, if it was something worth while," 
 said Norton. 
 
 " Why, yes, Norton ; one s life is what one thinks and 
 feels ; what nobody knows. Not the things that everybody 
 knows." 
 
 " It is what one does" said Norton ; " and if you do any 
 thing worth while, people will know it. I wonder what 
 there will be to tell of you and me fifty years from now ? " 
 
 " Fifty years ! Why, then I should be sixty-one," said 
 Matilda ; " and you would be a good deal more than that. 
 But perhaps we shall not live to be so old." 
 
 " Yes, we shall," said Norton. " / shall ; and you must, 
 too." 
 
 " Why, Norton, we can t make ourselves live," said Matilda, 
 in great astonishment at this language. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 147 
 
 " We shall live to be old, though," said Norton. " I know 
 it. And I wish there may be something to be said of me. 
 I don t think women ought to be talked of." 
 
 " I do not see what good it would do anybody to be talked 
 of, after he has gone away out of the world," said Matilda. 
 "Except to be talked of in heaven. That would be 
 good." 
 
 " In heaven ! " said Norton. " Talked of in heaven ! 
 Where did you get that 1 " 
 
 "I don t mean that exactly/ said Matilda. "But some 
 people will." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Why, a great many people, Norton. Abraham and Noah, 
 and David, and Daniel, and the woman that put all she had 
 into the Lord s treasury, and the woman that anointed the 
 head of Jesus the woman who, He said, had done what she 
 could. I would like to have thai said of me, if it was Jesus 
 that said it." 
 
 Norton took hold of Matilda and gave her a little good- 
 humoured shake. " Stop that ! " he said ; " and tell me, is 
 that why you are carrying a Bible out here in the streets ?" 
 
 " Oh, I haven t any use for it here, Norton." 
 
 " Then what have you got it here for ? " 
 
 "Norton, there are some people in the village who are 
 sick, or cannot read ; and I was going to read to them." 
 
 " Where are they ? " 
 
 " In Lilac Lane." 
 
 "Where is that?" 
 
 " You go up past the corner a good way, and just by Mr 
 Earth s foundry you turn down a few steps, and turn again 
 at the baker s. Then a little way further on, you strike into 
 the lane." 
 
 " That s it, is it 1 I know. But do you know what sort 
 of people live up that way ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Well, there s another thing you don t know, and that s 
 the mud. You d never have got out again, if you had gone 
 to Lilac Lane to-day. It is three feet deep ; and it weighs 
 
148 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 twenty pounds a foot. After you set your shoe in it, you 
 want a windlass to get it out again." 
 " What is a windlass 1 " Matilda asked. 
 " Don t you know ? Well, you are a girl ; but you are ji 
 brick. 1 11 teach you about a windlass, and lots of things." 
 
 " I shouldn t think you would want to teach me, because I 
 am a girl," said Matilda. 
 
 They had reached the iron gate of Mrs Laval s domain, 
 walking fast as they had talked ; and in answer to Matilda s 
 last remark, Norton opened the gate for her, and took off 
 his cap with an air as he held it for her to pass in. Matilda 
 looked, smiled, and stepped past him. 
 
 " You are not like any boy I ever saw," she remarked, 
 when he had recovered his cap and his place beside her. 
 
 " I hope you like roe better than any one you ever saw ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Matilda, " I do." 
 
 The boy s answer was to do what most boys are too shy 
 or too proud for. He put his arms round Matilda and gave 
 her a hearty kiss. Matilda was greatly surprised, and 
 bridled a little, as if she thought Norton had taken a 
 liberty ; but on the whole seemed to recognise the fact that 
 they were very good friends, and took this as a seal of it. 
 Norton led her into the house, got his croquet box, and 
 brought her and it out again to the little lawn before the 
 door. Nobody else was visible. The day was still, dry, 
 and sunny, and though the grass was hardly green yet, and 
 not shaven or rolled nor anything that a croquet lawn ought 
 to be, still it would do, as Norton said, to look at. Matilda 
 stood by and listened intently, while he planted his hoops 
 and showed his mallets, and explained to her the initial 
 mysteries of the game. They even tried how it would go ; 
 and there was no doubt of one thing, the time went almost 
 as fast as the croquet balls. 
 
 " I must run home, Norton," Matilda said at last. 
 
 " Why ? I don t think so." 
 
 " I know I must." 
 
 " Well, do you like it?" He meant the game. 
 
 " Oh, it s delightful ! " was Matilda s honest exclamation. 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 149 
 
 Norton pushed back his cap and looked at her, pleased on 
 his part. It came into Matilda s head that she ought to tell 
 him something. Their two faces had grown to be so 
 friendly to each other. 
 
 "Norton," she said, gravely, "I want you to know some 
 thing about me." 
 
 "Yes," said Norton. "I want to know it." 
 
 " You don t know what it is ? " 
 
 " That s the very thing. I want to know it." 
 
 "Norton, did you ever see anybody baptized V 
 
 " Babies/ said Norton, after a moment s recollection. 
 
 " Well, if you would like to see me baptized, come to our 
 church Sunday after next." 
 
 " You ? " said Norton. " Haven t you been baptized ? " 
 
 "Not yet." 
 
 "I thought everybody was. Then if you have not been 
 yet, why do you 1 Whose notion is that ? " 
 
 " It is mine." 
 
 " Your notion 1 " said Norton, examining her. " What do 
 you mean by that, Matilda ? " 
 
 "I mean, I want to be baptized; and Mr Eichmond is 
 going to do it for me." 
 
 " What s it for ? what s the use ? I wouldn t if I were 
 you." 
 
 "It is joining the Church. Don t you understand, Norton?" 
 
 "Not a bit. That is something I never did understand. 
 Do you understand it 1 " 
 
 "Why, yes, certainly." 
 
 "Let s hear, then," said Norton, putting up his croquet 
 balls. 
 
 "Mr Eichmond has explained it so much, you know, I 
 couldn t help but understand." 
 
 "Oh, it s Mr Eichmond, is it ?" 
 
 "No; it s the Bible." 
 
 " Let s hear, then," said Norton. " Go on." 
 
 Matilda hesitated. She found a difficulty in saying all her 
 mind to him; she did not know whether it was best ; and 
 with that she had a suspicion that perhaps she ought to do 
 
150 " WHAT SHE COULD. 
 
 it. She glanced at him, and looked away, and glanced again ; 
 and tried to make up her mind. Norton was busy putting 
 up his croquet hoops and mallets; but his face looked so 
 energetic and wide awake, and his eye was so quick and 
 strong, that she was half afraid to say something that might 
 bring an expression of doubt or ridicule upon it. Then 
 Norton looked up at her again, a keen look enough, but so 
 full of pleasure in her that Matilda s doubts were resolved. 
 He would not be unkind ; she would venture it. 
 
 "I want you to know about me, Norton," she began 
 again. 
 
 "Well," said Norton, "so do I; but it seems difficult, 
 somehow." 
 
 " You do not think that, for you are laughing." 
 
 Norton gave her another look, laughing rather more ; and 
 then he came and stood close beside her. 
 
 " What is it, Matilda ? " he asked. 
 
 "I don t want you to think that I am good," she said, 
 looking up earnestly and timidly, " for I am not ; but I want 
 to be ; and being baptized is a sign of belonging to the Lord 
 Jesus, so I want to be baptized." 
 
 "It isn t a sign of anything good," said Norton. "Lots 
 of people are baptized, that aren t anything else, I know. 
 Lots of them, Matilda. That don t change them." 
 
 " No, that don t change them, Norton ; but when they are 
 changed, then the Bible says they must be baptized." 
 
 " What for 1 " 
 
 " It is just telling everybody what they believe, and what 
 they are. It s a sign." 
 
 " Then when you are baptized, as you mean to be, that 
 will be telling everybody what you believe and what you 
 are?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "It would not tell me," said Norton, "because I should 
 not understand the sign. I wish you would tell me now in 
 words, Matilda." 
 
 "I don t know if I can, but I ll try. You know water 
 makes things clean, Norton ? " 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." .151 
 
 " Sometimes." 
 
 " Well, if it is used it does," said Matilda. " The water is 
 a sign that I believe the Lord Jesus will take away my sins, 
 and make me clean and good, if I trust Him ; that He will 
 wash my heart, and that Hfc has begun to do it. And it will 
 be a sign that I am His servant, because that is what He 
 has commanded His servants." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " That ; to be baptized, and join the Church." 
 
 " Matilda, a great many people are baptized, and keep all 
 their sins just the same." 
 
 " Oh, but those are make-believe people." 
 
 " No, they are not ; they are real people." 
 
 " I mean, they are make-believe Christians." 
 
 " How do you know but you are ? " 
 
 " I think I know," said Matilda, looking down. 
 
 " But other people won t know. Your being baptized will 
 not mean anything to them, only that somebody has coaxed 
 you into it." 
 
 " It will mean all that, Norton ; and if I am true they 
 will see it means all that." 
 
 " They might see it all the same without your being bap 
 tized. What difference would that make 1 " 
 
 " It is obedience" said Matilda, firmly. " And not to do 
 it would be disobedience. And it is profession of faith; and 
 not to do it, would be to say that I don t believe." 
 
 Norton looked amused, and pleased, and a little puzzled. 
 
 " You have not told me anything about you, after all," he 
 said ; " for I knew it all before." 
 
 " How did you know it 1 " 
 
 " Not this about your being baptized, you know, but about 
 you" 
 
 " What about me ? " 
 
 "I say, Matilda, when will you come and play croquet 
 again 1 " 
 
 " I don t know. But, O Norton, I must go now. I for 
 got all about it. And there was something else I wanted to 
 say. I wish you would be a servant of Jesus too ? " 
 
152 
 
 Matilda gave this utterance a little timidly. But Norton 
 only looked at her and smiled, and finally closed the ques 
 tion by taking her in his arms and giving her two kisses this 
 time. It was done without a bit of shamefacedness on his 
 part, and with the energy and the tenderness too of affection. 
 Matilda was extremely astonished and somewhat discom 
 posed ; but the evident kindness excused the freedom, and 
 on the whole she found nothing to object. Norton opened 
 the iron gate for her, and she hurried off homewards without 
 another word. 
 
 In a dream of pleasure she hurried along, feeling that 
 Norton Laval was a great gain to her, and that croquet was 
 the most delightful of amusements, and that all the weari 
 ness of the day s work was taken out of her heart. She only 
 regretted, as she went, that those poor people in Lilac Lane 
 had heard no reading ; but she resolved she would go to 
 them to-morrow. 
 
 There is one time, however, for doing everything that 
 ought to be done ; and if that time is lost, no human calcu 
 lation can make sure a second opportunity. Matilda was to 
 find this in the case of Lilac Lane. The next day weather 
 kept her at home. The second day she was too busy to go 
 on such an expedition. The third was Sunday. And when 
 Monday came, all thoughts of what she had intended to do 
 were put out of her head by her mother s condition. Mrs 
 Englefield was declared to be seriously ill. 
 
 The doctor was summoned. Her fever had taken a bad 
 turn, he said. It was a very bad turn ; for after a few days 
 it was found to be carrying her swiftly to death s door. She 
 was unable to see her children, or at least unable to recog 
 nise and speak to them, until the very last day; and then 
 too feeble. And the Sunday when Matilda had expected to 
 be baptized, saw her mother s funeral instead. 
 
 Anne and Letitia came up from New York, but were 
 obliged to return thither immediately after the funeral ; 
 and the two younger girls were left to their grief. It was 
 well for them now that they had plenty of business, plenty 
 of active work on hand. It was a help to Maria ; after a 
 
153 
 
 little it diverted her thoughts and took her out of the strain 
 of sorrow. And it was a help to Matilda, >it In a more 
 negative way. It kept the child from grieving herself ill, 
 or doing herself a mischief with violent sorrow ; it was no 
 relief. In every unoccupied moment, whenever the demands 
 of household business left her free to do what she would, 
 the little girl bent beneath her burden of sorrow. Kneeling 
 before her open Bible, her tears flowed incessantly every 
 moment when the luxury of indulgence could be allowed 
 them. Mrs Candy did not see the whole of this ; she was 
 rarely in the girls room ; yet she saw enough to become 
 uneasy, and tried all that she knew to remedy it. Clarissa 
 was kind, to her utmost power of kindness. Even Maria 
 \vas stirred to try some soothing for her little sister. But 
 Matilda could not be soothed. Maria s instances and 
 persuasions did, however, at last urge her to the point of 
 showing a part of her thoughts and disclosing the thorn 
 that pressed sharpest on her mind. It was, that she had 
 not pleased her mother by doing her best in the studies she 
 had pursued at school. Matilda had always been a little 
 self-indulgent ; did not trouble herself with study ; made 
 no effort to reach or keep a good place in her classes. Mrs 
 Englefield had urged and commanded her in vain. Not ob 
 stinately, but with a sort of gay carelessness, Matilda had 
 let these exhortations slip ; had studied when she was 
 interested, and lagged behind her companions in the 
 pursuits she found dry. And now, she could not for 
 give herself nor cease her sorrowing on account of this 
 failure. 
 
 Maria in despair at last took Mrs Candy into her con 
 fidence, and besought her to comfort Matilda, which Mrs 
 Candy tried her best to do. She represented that Matilda 
 had always been a good child ; had loved and honoured her 
 mother, and constantly enjoyed her favour. Matilda heard, 
 but answered with sobs. 
 
 "I am sure, my dear," her aunt said, "you have 
 nothing to reproach yourself with. We are none of us 
 perfect." 
 
154 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " I didn t do what I could, Aunt Candy ! " was Matilda s 
 answer. 
 
 " My dear, hardly anybody the best of us does all he 
 might do." 
 
 " I will," said Matilda. 
 
155 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THIS could not last always, and the days as they passed 
 after a while, brought their usual soothing. 
 
 The quiet routine of the early spring began to come in 
 again. Mrs Candy was looking for a girl, she said, but had 
 not found one yet ; Maria and Matilda were not ready to go 
 to school ; they were better getting the breakfast and wash 
 ing up the dishes than doing nothing. No doubt that was 
 true. 
 
 " Tilly," said Maria, one of these days, when the coffee cups 
 were getting put in order, going out of Maria s tub of hot 
 water into Matilda s hands and napkin," Tilly ! you know 
 next Sunday there is to be a baptism in the church ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Matilda. 
 
 It was weeks after that other Sunday, when the rite had 
 not been administered. Spring had come forward rapidly 
 since then. Trees were in full leaf ; dandelions in the grass ; 
 flowers were in the woods, though the two sisters had not 
 gone to see them this year ; the apple orchards around 
 Shadywalk were in a cloud of pink blossoms ; and the sun 
 was warm upon flower and leaf everywhere. 
 
 " Who is going to be baptized ] " Maria went on. 
 
 " I don t know. At least, I don t know all," 
 
 " Ailie Swan is," remarked Maria. 
 
 "Yes, I know Ailie Swan is." 
 
 "And Frances Earth." 
 
 Matilda was silent. 
 
 " And Esther Trembleton, and George Rice, and Mary and 
 Willie Edwards." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Matilda. 
 
 " You are not, are you ? " 
 
 "You know I was going to be," said Matilda. "I am 
 now." 
 
156 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 "Tilly, it would be no harm if you waited till another 
 time." 
 
 "Why should I wait?" 
 
 " / am going to wait," said Maria. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Why, because I don t feel like it. Not now." 
 
 " I do not want to wait," said Matilda. And probably 
 she was going to say more, but her lip trembled and she 
 stopped. 
 
 "It would be no harm, Tilly, if you waited. Nobody 
 would expect it of us now. Nobody would expect it, Tilly." 
 
 " I think One would," said Matilda. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "Jesus." 
 
 " But, Tilly," said Maria, uneasily, " I don t think so. It 
 could not be pleasant for you and me, you know, to go for 
 ward [and be baptized now. We might wait till another 
 time ; and then it would be more easy, wouldn t it ? " 
 
 " It is not hard now," said Matilda. " It is pleasant now. 
 I do not wish to put it off." 
 
 " Pleasant ? " repeated Maria. 
 
 "Yes," said her little sister, quietly, lifting her eyes to 
 Maria s face so steadily and gravely that the other changed 
 her ground. 
 
 "But at least it is not duty, Matilda." 
 
 Matilda had dried all the cups, and she threw her napkin 
 down arid covered her face. 
 
 "Oh yes ! " she said; "it is duty and pleasure too. I ll 
 do what I can." 
 
 " But what does it signify, your doing it ? " said Maria. 
 " It isn t anything. And it will look so odd if you do and I 
 don t." 
 
 Matilda took up her napkin again, and went to work at 
 the plates. 
 
 " Matilda, I wish you would wait. I am not ready to go 
 now. 
 
 " But I am ready, Maria." 
 
 " If I was to tell Aunt Candy, I believe she would put a 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 157 
 
 stop to it," said Maria, sulkily. " I know she does not think 
 much of such young people doing such things." 
 
 " But Jesus said, Let them come." 
 
 Maria tossed her head. However she did not speak to 
 Mrs Candy. 
 
 So it was with no notion of Matilda s intention that her 
 aunt that Sunday took her seat in Mr Richmond s church. 
 She had heard that a number of people, most of them 
 young people, were to be baptized in the evening ; she had 
 been to her own church duly in the morning, and thought 
 she might gratify her curiosity now in seeing how these 
 things are managed in a different communion. She and 
 Clarissa went alone, not supposing that the younger ones 
 of the family were at the same moment getting ready to 
 follow. 
 
 " How are you going to dress yourself, Matilda ? " her 
 sister inquired. 
 
 " To dress myself !" said Matilda, turning her eyes upon 
 her sister in astonished fashion. 
 
 " Why, yes, child ! you will go out there in sight of every 
 body, you know. Aren t you going to put on a white frock ? 
 Clarissa says they always do in her church. " 
 
 Matilda looked down on her own black dress and burst 
 into tears ; only by a vigorous effort she kept the tears from 
 falling, after the first one or two, and hurriedly and silently 
 began to get herself ready. 
 
 " But, Matilda ! why don t you speak ? " said her sister. 
 "Are you going just so 1 and why don t you speak to me ? 
 There is no harm in a white frock." 
 
 " I don t want a white frock," said Matilda. " Do you 
 mean to stay at home 1" 
 
 " I suppose I am going," said Maria, beginning slowly her 
 own preparations. " People would think odd if I didn t go. 
 Where are you going to sit 1 " 
 
 " What do you mean 1 " 
 
 " Why, you are very stupid. I mean, where are you going 
 to sit ? " 
 
 " Where we always do, I suppose. 
 
158 " WHAT SHE COULD." 
 
 " But then you would have so far to walk." 
 
 " To walk ? " Matilda repeated, bewildered. 
 
 " Why, yes, child ! When you are called to go up with 
 the rest, you know ; you would have so far to go." 
 
 " Oh ! said Matilda. "What of it ? " 
 
 " Don t you care ? " 
 
 " Why, no. It don t make any difference." 
 
 " Well, I d have a white frock if I were you," said Maria. 
 "Being in black is no objection to that ; for people do just 
 the same, Matilda, for a baptism." 
 
 " You will be late, Maria," was all the answer her little 
 sister made. 
 
 And they were late. Matilda was ready and waiting, be 
 fore Maria s slow preparations were made. They walked 
 quick ; but service had begun in the church before they got 
 there. They paused in the vestibule till a prayer should be 
 ended. And here Matilda was seized upon. 
 
 "I thought you were not coming," said an earnest 
 whisper. "What made you come so late ? " It was Norton 
 Laval. 
 
 " I couldn t help it," said Matilda. 
 
 " And when you came, I all but missed you. They said 
 all of you you know would be in white dresses ; and I 
 was looking out for white. Are-n t you going to be baptized, 
 after all?" 
 
 " Oh yes, Norton." 
 
 "Well, here s some flowers for you," said the boy, putting 
 a bunch of white heath and lilies into Matilda s hand. 
 " Mamma is here ; up in the Dawsons pew ; it was sold 
 with the place, so we ve got it. Come there, Matilda, it 
 will be a good place for you ; yours is farther back, you 
 know. Mamma told me to bring you." 
 
 Maria had gone in, after an impatient whisper to her 
 sister. And Matilda yielded to a secret inclination, and 
 followed Norton. 
 
 The service of baptism was not entered into until the close 
 of the evening. During one of the intervals of the usual 
 service, which preceded the other, Matilda questioned with 
 
" WHAT SHE COULD." 159 
 
 herself if she really would have done better to put on a 
 white dress 1 Everybody seemed to expect it. She could 
 not, from the Dawson pew, which was a corner front one, 
 see how her companions were dressed. But she presently 
 recollected that the " fine linen," which Mr Richmond had 
 talked to them about, " is the righteousness of saints ; " and 
 she quieted herself with the assurance that the real attire of 
 fitness is inward and not outward. And when the candi 
 dates for baptism were called to come forward, she quietly 
 left her bunch of lilies with her hat on the cushion of the 
 pew. 
 
 " Is that Matilda ?" whispered Clarissa to her mother. 
 " I never heard a word of it ! " said Mrs Candy. 
 " You cannot stop her now." 
 
 " No ; if I could I would," answered Mrs Candy. " This 
 ought not to be. Such a child ! does not know what she is 
 doing. What a way !" 
 
 But Matilda knew what she was doing ; and when the 
 candidates were asked respecting their faith and profession, 
 there was no voice among them all that answered more 
 clear and free ; none that promised with more calm distinct 
 ness to "keep God s holy will and commandments, and walk 
 in the same all the days of her life." And it was a meek 
 little face, without a cloud or a doubt upon it, that was 
 raised towards Mr Richmond when her turn came. 
 
 There was a long line of candidates for baptism, reaching 
 nearly from one end to the other of the communion rails. 
 Mr Richmond stood near one end, by the font, and did not 
 change his place ; so each one, as he or she received the 
 rite, passed to one side, while the place was filled by 
 another. Without breaking the rank this was done; one 
 set slowly edging along from left to right, while from right 
 to left, one by one, the others came to take their turn. It 
 was a pretty sight. So some thought ; but there were 
 varieties of opinion. 
 
 One variety Matilda had to encounter that night before 
 she slept. Going back to Mrs Laval s pew to get her hat 
 and flowers, naturally she walked home with her and 
 
160 
 
 Norton, and had no annoyance until she got there. As she 
 went through the hall the parlour door opened, and she 
 was called in. 
 
 "I want to speak to you, Matilda," said Mrs Candy; 
 " and I think it is proper to do it at once. I want to know 
 about this. How long have you been preparing for this 
 step you have taken to-night 1 " 
 
 " Ma am ? " said Matilda. 
 
 " How long have you been thinking of doing this?" 
 
 " Oh, a long while, Aunt Candy." 
 
 " Why did you not consult me ? " 
 
 Her mother would have been the one to speak to about 
 it, arid her mother had been too ill. Eemembering this, 
 Matilda stood silent and her eyes filled. 
 
 " You have been intending it for these two months 
 past 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Aunt Candy ; and before." 
 
 " Well, then, why did you not speak to me ? " 
 
 " I spoke to Mr Richmond." 
 
 " Mr Richmond might have had the courtesy himself." 
 (Which Mr Richmond had meant to do, but various pressing 
 matters had prevented.) 
 
 " But you ought to have spoken to me, Matilda. You 
 are too young a child to take such responsibility." 
 
 Matilda did not think of anything to say to this. 
 
 "I do not think you understand what you have been 
 doing." 
 
 "I think I do, Aunt Candy." 
 
 " What did you want to be baptized for ?" 
 
 " Because Jesus says we must." 
 
 " Yes, properly ; but not improperly, without knowing 
 what you do. " What do you think it means, Matilda ? " 
 
 " To be baptized, Aunt Erminia ? 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " It means," said the child steadily, and with the clear 
 utterance of pleasure, " that I belong to the Lord Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
 " There ! " said Clarissa, appealing to her mother. 
 
"WHAT SHE COULD." 161 
 
 "I thought so," said Mrs Candy. "That is not what it 
 means, Matilda." 
 
 " It is what I mean, Aunt Candy." 
 
 " It means a great deal more, my dear, which you cannot 
 understand. And you ought to have had a white dress 
 on." 
 
 " I don t think God cares," said Matilda. 
 
 "Did you ever hear such dreadful teaching as these 
 people have ? " said the mother, appealing to the daughter. 
 " My dear, there is a propriety in things. And not one of 
 the candidates this evening was dressed in white." 
 
 "But the water means a clean heart," said Matilda; 
 " and if we have that, God will think we are dressed in 
 white." 
 
 " So you think you have a clean heart ? " 
 
 " I think Jesus has begun to make it clean." 
 
 "And what does it mean to renounce the devil and all 
 his works ? " 
 
 " It means," said Matilda, sighing, " to have nothing to 
 do with anything that is wrong." 
 
 " How is such a child as you to know what is wrong." 
 
 " Why, the Bible, Aunt Candy." 
 
 " What is the vain pomp and glory of the world ? " 
 
 "I don t know," said Matilda. "All the glory, I suppose, 
 except what God gives." 
 
 "What does He give, child ? " said Mrs Candy, with an 
 odd expression on her face. 
 
 "Why, you know, Aunt Erminia," said Matilda, a little 
 wearily. 
 
 " I should like to hear you tell." 
 
 " I can t tell," said Matilda. " I think it was glory, when 
 He said of that poor woman, < She hath done what she 
 could. " 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs Candy, after a pause, " I am very 
 sorry you have taken this step without consulting me. 
 Your answers show that you have not the discrimination 
 necessary for making such vows. However, it is too late 
 now. You may go to bed." 
 
 L 
 
162 "WHAT SHE COULD. 
 
 Which Matilda did, and speedily forgot all that had 
 troubled her in her aunt s words. For she went to sleep 
 making a pillow to her head of those other words 
 
 " And white robes were given to every one of them." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES: 
 
 A SEQUEL TO " WHAT SHE COULD. 
 
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 un 
 derstand. 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 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, corn bread is nice. I am glad of it." 
 
 " You wouldn t be glad if you had to make it. There ! I 
 
.1G6 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 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 al 
 ways 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 be 
 longed 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 along 
 side of his nose in a peculiar and mysterious expressiveness, 
 he repeated his old words 
 
 " Ain t you green 1 " 
 
 " I suppose so," said Matilda. " I dare say I am. What 
 then 1 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 1G7 
 
 " 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 in 
 to 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 tbe 
 fellow, grinning. 
 
 " No, no ; but when she calls you from somewhere what 
 does she call you 1 " 
 
 "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 11 give you three more." 
 
 " Three more ] " said the boy. 
 
 " Yes. Now come, and you 11 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 ? n 
 
 " How do they make soda, I wonder ? " said Matilda, look 
 ing at it. " Do you know, Maria 1 " 
 
 "I have enough to do to know how to get breakfast. 
 
1 68 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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. / 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 169 
 
 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 ; arid 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 / 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 pro 
 mised last night ? " 
 
 " The vows were 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 
 
170 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 three would have done perfectly well ; and she pays ahvays 
 twelve dollars for her boots, twelve and ten dollars ; when 
 she could get nice ones for four and five. Now what s that I " 
 
 "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 com 
 fortable shoes, if I can get them." 
 
 u Then you have a right to pomps and vanities," returned 
 Maria ; " but I say you haven t a right, after you have de 
 clared 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 / 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 ex 
 pensive 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 171 
 
 " 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 ignor 
 ance 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. 
 
1 72 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Matilda ! Why don t you speak ? I say, ain t they 
 mean 1 " 
 
 "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 im 
 patiently. "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." 
 
OPPOKTUNITIES. 173 
 
 " 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 con 
 veniently, and some faint perfume breathed all through 
 
1 74 OPPOKTUNITIES. 
 
 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 begin 
 ning of the book, Matilda found it was a treatise, or a col 
 lection of advices, for the instruction of persons about to be 
 received into the Church. Not a little dismayed by this dis 
 covery, 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 Eev. 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 175 
 
 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 member 
 ship 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 Kich- 
 mond talks about it." 
 
 " You are very fond of Mr Eichmond, 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 stock- 
 
170 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 ing, 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 1 
 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 re 
 flected, and her needle went accordingly. 
 
 " I have done it, Aunt Erminia," she proclaimed at last. 
 
 " Done the heel 1 " 
 
 " 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 177 
 
 Matilda was very impatient and very weary besides. How 
 ever, 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 dul- 
 ness 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 1 " 
 
 " 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." 
 
 M 
 
178 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 179 
 
 CHAPTEK 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, without 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 after 
 wards. 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 1 
 
 "Does Mrs Eldridge live in this house, or in that?" 
 Matilda asked a boy in her way. 
 
 " In nary one." 
 
 " Where does she live ? " 
 
180 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 1 I hain t sent for nobody. Who told you 
 to come 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 181 
 
 " A chapter in the Bible. I thought perhaps you couldn t 
 see to read it yourself." 
 
 " Kead? " 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; tain t bread, nor ; tain t 
 baccy." 
 
 " No, it is not tobacco," said Matilda ; " but it is better 
 than tobacco." 
 
 " Couldn t you get me some baccy, now ? " said the old 
 woman, as if with a sudden thought. But Matilda did not 
 see her way olear 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 head 
 way. As a last expedient, she opened her book, plunged in 
 to 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." 
 
1 82 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 Matilda wondered very much what the old lady was think 
 ing of. Her next words made it clearer. 
 
 " He kept sheep fur Mr Mr him they call 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 kruow 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 t 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." 
 
 tl 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 183* 
 
 " Eh ? I hain t done no harm, I hain t. Nobody never said 
 as I had 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 gave 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." 
 
184 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 1 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 1 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 to 
 wards 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 cup 
 board 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 185 
 
 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 exa 
 mine. 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 soile d ; 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 1 and who makes 
 your bed ? Or can you make it ? " 
 
 " Sleep 1 " 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-smell 
 ing, 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 responsi 
 bilities. 
 
 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 con 
 science 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 tnen 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." 
 
 " Tain t a pleasant place to come to," said the old woman 
 
186 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Tain t a pleasant place fur nobody. And nobody comes 
 to it. Nobody comes." 
 
 "I 11 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 whenso 
 ever ye will ye may do them good; but Me ye have not 
 always. She hath done what she could." 
 
 Had Matilda 1 ? 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 in 
 deed one of the Lord s children, but that did not help the 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 187 
 
 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 ser 
 vice 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 some 
 thing." 
 
 "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 1 " 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." 
 
188 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 "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 1 " 
 
 " 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 11 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 break 
 fast." 
 
 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 any 
 body else. She 11 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 189 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 pre 
 possessed 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." 
 
190 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 arrange 
 ments 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 afternoon 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 first went 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 101 
 
 " 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. 
 
192 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 any 
 thing 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 illness got hold o me yet. There s no one as 11 
 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 ? " 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 193 
 
 "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 1 " 
 
 " No. It s gone. There ain t none." 
 
 "What is there, then, that I can boil some water in 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 themselves 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 remem 
 bered 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." 
 
 N 
 
194 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Matilda Englefield, ain t it ? " said Mr Swain. " Bits o 
 wood 1 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 11 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 1 ? 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 11 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 1 
 Matilda had no match. And she remembered suddenly 
 
OPPOKTUNITIES. 195 
 
 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 1 One house looked as forbid 
 ding 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 pota 
 toes u Who for ? " 
 
 " To boil some water for Mrs Eldridge." 
 " You don t live here 1 " 
 "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 Waters 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. No 
 body 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 sea 
 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." 
 
196 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 an 
 other; 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 1 I will 
 be very much obliged." 
 
 " Well, if you 11 bring it back yourself I s pose 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 197 
 
 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 1 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 1 
 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 1 " 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 . 3 
 
 " But would she like it ? " Matilda asked. 
 
 " I wonder when these things was washed afore," said the 
 
198 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 woman, scrubbing at them. "Like it 1 You kin go in and 
 ask her." 
 
 Matilda pushed open the inner door, and somewhat re 
 luctantly 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 Egglef ord ? " 
 
 " 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 11 never be no better." 
 
 " Does anybody ever come to read the Bible to you 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 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 member- 
 ing. 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 199 
 
 "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 Eld- 
 ridge 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 Eld- 
 ridge 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." 
 
200 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 "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 1 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 par 
 ticularity 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 Rich 
 mond 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 201 
 
 over the broken herring ; I think his blue eye had an un 
 usual 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 Kichmond, 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 press 
 ing. There was no distinct answer to the minister s ques 
 tion. 
 
 " 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 Eld 
 ridge, 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. 
 
202 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 "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 lie 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 have 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, arid 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 203 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 em 
 bodied 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 1 Don t you find, that as I said, it pays ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, sir ! But 
 
 " But what ? " 
 
 " There is so much to do." 
 
204 OrPOKTUNITIES. 
 
 "Yes !" said the minister, thoughtfully. And it seemed 
 to have stopped his talk. 
 
 " Is Mrs Rogers the other one 1 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 I thought you were." 
 
 " I am afraid I was sorry when I found out about Mrs 
 Rogers." 
 
 " Why were you sorry 1 " 
 
 " 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 cf 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 1 " 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 205 
 
 " 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. 7 He laid down His life for us, and we ought 
 to lay our lives down for the brethren. 5 " 
 
 Matilda listened, with a choking feeling coming in her 
 throat. 
 
 " But then what can I do, Mr Richmond 1 how can I help 
 feeling so 1 " 
 
 " 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." 
 
206 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " In the fourth chapter of the Second Epistle to the Cor 
 inthians. 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." 
 
- 
 OPPORTUNITIES. 207 
 
 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 rattier 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 11 come to that," said Maria ; " or it 11 be some 
 thing you will think wrong ; and then we shall have a time ! 
 I declare, I believe I shall be glad ! " 
 
 " What for, Maria 1 " 
 
 " Why ! Then I shall have you again. You 11 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." 
 
208 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " The reading is worse," said Matilda, sighing. " It is 
 something I do not understand." 
 
 " What does she make you do it for 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " You may do exactly what I tell you, my dear." 
 
 " Does it make any difference, Aunt Candy 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 209 
 
 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 anything 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 under 
 stand that ? " 
 
 " No, ma am ; I do not know what you mean by say 
 ing it." 
 
 " You do not know that you answered me by a toss of 
 your head just now 1 " 
 
 " 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 feel 
 ing 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 after- 
 
 o 
 
210 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 noon had been so pleasant, on the whole, that Matilda deter 
 mined 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 1 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 Matilda nodded. 
 
 "I ll go too," said Norton, " and find out what it all means. 
 Give me the book, and I 11 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 211 
 
 " Like what, Pink ? The Bible 1 " 
 
 " Oh no ! Oh yes, I wish you did like that ; but I mean, 
 where I am going." 
 
 " Do you like it 1 " 
 
 "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 11 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 per 
 fectly 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. 
 
212 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 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, 1 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 1 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 pur 
 chased 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 213 
 
 " 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 everything you want, 
 Pink 1 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 dol 
 lar 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 1 " 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 1 Where did you get it 1 " 
 
 "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!" 
 
214 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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. " 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 1 " 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 hindrance 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 
 
OPPOKTUNITIES. 215 
 
 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 3 " 
 
 "I m the fellow that brought the kettle from the shop," 
 said Norton. 
 
 " Whose kettle is it 1 " 
 
 "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 t know what twas." 
 
 " About the shepherd 1 the Good Shepherd 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
216 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 the sheep. I don t see none. But he used for to be a shep 
 herd, and he took good care of J 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 joy 
 ous 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 1 " 
 
 " 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, 7 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 217 
 
 "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 1 None of the neigh 
 bours 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 11 take em some for once. 
 They shall know how mutton tastes." 
 
218 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Norton ! " said Matilda, in a low voice of delight, 
 " how good that would be ! " 
 
 " Bat 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 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. 
 Holloa ! 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 219 
 
 The race was not fruitful of anything, however, but admira 
 tion, 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 1 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 Nor 
 ton, 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 moun 
 tains beyond, having lost all their white coating of snow 
 long ago, were clothed in a kind of drapery of purple mist. 
 
220 OPPOKTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 \vas 
 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 1 1 " said Matilda. 
 
 " I am afraid you are. What are you going to do ? play 
 croquet 1 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 Nor 
 ton s sister?" 
 
 " Oh, I should like it very much ! " Matilda answered, half 
 eagerly, but her answer touched with a soberness that be- 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 221 
 
 longed 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 re 
 sponse 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 tender 
 ness 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 straw 
 berries, 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 straw 
 berries 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. 
 
222 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " What has mamma done to you ? " said Norton, wonder 
 ing. " Here, Pink, do you like strawberries ? " 
 
 " If you please, Norton," said Matilda, " couldn t I have 
 them another time 1 I don t want them now." 
 
 " Then they may wait till we have done playing," said 
 Norton ; " and then I 11 have some too. Now come." 
 
 The great trees cast a nickering shadow on the grass 
 before the house. Norton planted his hoops and distri 
 buted 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 chil 
 dren ; they were too much engaged to look at her. At last the 
 hard-fought battle came to an end. Norton brought out 
 anotjjer 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 moun 
 tains 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 223 
 
 " Norton, how pretty it all is to-niglit." 
 
 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. 
 
 " Kather 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, dis 
 posing of a very large strawberry. 
 
 " But isn t it strange ? ;; 
 
 "That is what I said, Pink." 
 
 " It don t seem right," said Matilda, thoughtfully. 
 
 11 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 1 " 
 
 " Well how, Pink ? If people were industrious and be 
 haved 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. 
 
224 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Yes ; and these strawberries, I suppose, would feed her 
 for a week the old woman, I mean. And one of our draw 
 ing-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 Jhave 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 in 
 to some poor somebody s dinner, I couldn t have had them 
 to give to you. Do you see, Pink 1 " 
 
 " But, 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 11 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 11 
 see what we 11 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 225 
 
 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 J 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 j 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 ex 
 actly." 
 
 " How is it like fairy stories ? " said Norton. " / 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 something 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." 
 
 p 
 
226 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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, Nor 
 ton?" 
 
 " 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 1 " 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 1 ?" 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 miser 
 able 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 some 
 thing, 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 227 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 "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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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. 
 
228 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Nothing at all, except what we took there." 
 
 "Then she wants everything." 
 
 "But you see, Norton, she can t do anything herself; 
 she couldn t use some things. There would be no use " 
 
 " No use in wltat ? " 
 
 " 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 yester 
 day ? " 
 
 " 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 229 
 
 princess now. What do you think of getting the princess a 
 new dress or two 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " To buy them, and to choose them, and to get them to 
 their place, and all that 1 " 
 
 " Why, you and I, Norton. Shan t we." 
 
 " I think that is a good arrangement. The next question 
 is, when 1 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 ?" 
 
 14 How is it in the fairy stories 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " she 
 asked Matilda then. 
 
 " Oh yes, ma am." 
 
 " But it cannot be pleasant." 
 
 " Oh yes, ma am ! " Matilda answered, more earnestly. 
 
230 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 under 
 stand 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 fore 
 head, 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 satis 
 fied. Matilda was happy and passive. 
 
 " Have you got money enough, love, for all you want to 
 do ? " Mrs Laval asked at length. 
 
 " / 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 231 
 
 "Spend just what you like." 
 
 " I might take too much," said Matilda. 
 
 " It is all yours. 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 
 w r ish you could give me your secret." 
 
 " What secret, ma am 1 " said Matilda, who for the very 
 delight that flashed 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 fairy 
 land. 
 
 " When are you coming again 1 " 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 
 
232 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 233 
 
 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 1 " Maria asked. 
 
 " Playing." 
 
 " You sigh over it, as if there were some melancholy asso 
 ciations 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 1 " 
 
 "What, ma am?" 
 
 " My message. Did you deliver it 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 Matilda was in sore difficulty. There was nothing she 
 could think of to say. So she said nothing. 
 
234 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 u 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, mutter 
 ing 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 t6ok 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 235 
 
 Norton and her, now 1 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 en 
 veloped 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 r 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 11 be asked again." 
 
 " And I am sure people come to see you. Frances Earth 
 was here yesterday ; and Sarah Haight and Esther Tremble- 
 ton 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 herself in Mrs Candy s room for her 
 
236 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 hesi 
 tated. 
 
 " I ask you, what do you think are the duties of a mem 
 ber 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 1 " 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 be 
 tween the ladies, and Mrs Laval had sought none. If Mrs 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 237 
 
 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 al 
 most 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 dig 
 nity; but she did that. Nothing but the paleness told. 
 
238 OPPOETUN1TIES. 
 
 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, hap 
 pily 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 some 
 where. Matilda pulled oat her basting threads the third 
 time, with a sigh, 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 239 
 
 "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." 
 
240 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 course 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 1 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 dis 
 tance. 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, 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 241 
 
 though it undoubtedly and unmistakably signified her dis 
 approval. 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 bewilder 
 ment. The indignity, the injury, the wrong, were so un 
 wonted and so unintelligible, that the child felt as if she 
 were in a dream. What did it mean ? and was it real 1 
 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 feedoni 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 dis 
 like. The patch and the linen to be patched lay un 
 touched on the floor, it is needless 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. 
 
 o 
 
242 OPPOKTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 snail 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 11 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 deter 
 mination. 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 243 
 
 " 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 endea 
 vour 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 1 " 
 
 " What has she done ? " Maria asked, growing very wrath 
 ful. 
 
 " Can t you keep me from her, Maria I " 
 
 " And I say, what has she done to yon, Tilly ? Do hold 
 up and answer me. How can I tell anything when you act 
 like that 1 What has she done ? " 
 
 " She says she 11 give me a cold bath every morning," 
 Matilda said, seeming to shrink and shiver as she said it. 
 
244 OPPORTUNITIES* 
 
 "A cold bath ! " exclaimed Maria. 
 
 " Yes. Oh, can t you keep me from it ? " 
 
 " What has put the notion in her head 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 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 fol 
 low 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 245 
 
 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 manipu 
 lations, 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 sub 
 dued. 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 
 
246 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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, some 
 how, 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 Sun 
 day 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 him 
 self. 
 
 " 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." 
 
p. 246. 
 
 , 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 247 
 
 "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 in 
 quired. 
 
 " 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 1 " 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. Bat Aunt Candy," said Matilda, in great dis 
 may, "it doesn t hurt me." 
 
 "No; I mean it shall not. Have you always gone 
 wandering just where you liked ] " 
 
 " Yes, always. Shady walk 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 riot think 
 she had got so much harm as that. If she could only meet 
 
248 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 3 s an old witch ! " 
 
 " Oh don t, Maria ! " 
 
 " I will," said Maria. " I will talk. It is the only com 
 fort 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 249 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 11 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 " 
 
250 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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, know 
 ingly. 
 
 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 251 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE days seemed to move slowly. They were such trouble 
 some days to Matilda. From the morning bath, which was 
 simply her detestation, all through the long hours of read 
 ing, 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 valu 
 able 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 
 
252 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 meet 
 ings, 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 11 have just what we like for dinner, and I 11 
 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 ! " 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 253 
 
 " 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 com 
 mands whatever. The omnibus fairly drove away with her, 
 and left Maria and Matilda unrestricted by any new restric 
 tions. 
 
 " 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." 
 
254 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 11 let the kitchen fire go out," said Maria ; " and 
 we 11 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 11 
 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 1 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" 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 255 
 
 " You were not in your place on Sunday." 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 And Matilda s tone of voice gave an unconscious commen 
 tary 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 mo 
 ment. 
 
 " 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 oft Matilda took her basket home ; carried the key 
 
256 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 parson 
 age. 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 257 
 
 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 tfAa^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." 
 
 R 
 
258 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " You are not different, are you ? " 
 
 " I don t know," said Matilda, slowly ; " I am afraid so. 
 I feel very different." 
 
 " In what way 1" 
 
 " 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 ? " 
 
 11 What do you think, Tilly, the Lord meant when He gave 
 us the order ? " 
 
 " He mean t 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 259 
 
 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 1 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
260 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 some 
 times 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 1 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. " 
 
 44 I am not like that, Mr Richmond," Matilda said, sadly. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 201 
 
 "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 ? " 
 
 "Ob, but I am not like that," said Matilda again. 
 
 " You must be, if you are His child." 
 
 " Must 1 1 " said Matilda, the tears dropping from her eyes 
 quietly. "How can 1 1 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 1 " 
 
 Which the minister instantly did. Matilda wept quietly 
 all the time of his prayer, and after they rose from their 
 knees, leaned 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 1 " 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." 
 
262 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 "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 some 
 thing ; and after tea we will see about your lost opportu 
 nities if you like." 
 
 " Would Miss Redwood do all that for me ? " said Ma 
 tilda, 
 
 " You can consult her and find out/ 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 263 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Miss REDWOOD was mopping np 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 11 
 be through directly, and it won t take this paint no time to 
 dry. How s all the folks at your house 1 " 
 
 " 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 them 
 selves 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." 
 
264 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 "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 become o you all these days 1 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 1 " 
 
 "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 Red 
 wood." 
 
 " If I was to get a good bowl o sour cream now, and 
 show 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 ? Every 
 body 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 fc care what he is," said the housekeeper; "he 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 265 
 
 takes airs ; and a minister as takes airs had better be French, 
 I think. What do you go to hear him for, then 1 " 
 
 " Aunt Candy takes me." 
 
 "Then you don t go because you want to 1 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 house 
 keeper sitting up and giving her mop a final wring, " but 
 they can t kind o help it ; its born with J 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 some 
 thing." 
 
 "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. 
 
266 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 clean 
 ing, 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 making 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 clean 
 ing. It is not fit to put anything nice into it." 
 
 " All Lilac Lane wouldn t be the worse of a cleaniri ," said 
 the housekeeper ; " men and women and all ; but I don t 
 know who s to do the cleanin 5 ." 
 
 " 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 . 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 267 
 
 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 her 
 self ; 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 11 cost a sight of money." 
 
 " I ve got money." 
 
 "It 11 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 ; taint your work, child." 
 
 "But I want to do it, Miss Redwood. And I ve got the 
 money." 
 
 " I wonder how much better she 11 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 house 
 keeper. " It 11 take me a little while to get up any notion 
 o my goodness again. I suppose it 11 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 
 
268 OPPOKTUNITIES. 
 
 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 11 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 11 have it baking in no 
 time. Short-cake must be made in five minutes, or it 11 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 11 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 11 cut it in 
 two pieces and put it in the pans." 
 
 This was done satisfactorily, and the pans, were slipped in 
 to the hot oven. Matilda washed her hands, and the house 
 keeper made neat and swift preparations for tea. Every 
 thing 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 269 
 
 and bring out wheat 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 Eichmond 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 1 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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. 
 
270 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 11 do much good 1 " 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 J 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 cover 
 lets, 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 1 " 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 11 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 child 11 be without her dollars, and 
 the world 11 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 1 " 
 
 " The minister knows a cup o good tea when he sees it," 
 answered the housekeeper. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 271 
 
 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 
 keerf ul and thrivin ," said the housekeeper, firmly. " Tairi t 
 in em ; and what s the use o havin things if folks ain t 
 keerf ul 1 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 1 The 
 basket 11 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 ex 
 pect to hear that you have lamed you 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 on the poor, lendeth to 
 the Lord ; and that which he hath given will He pay him 
 again!" 7 
 
 " Then Mr Richmond thinks it would be a good use of her 
 money 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
272 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 grow 
 ing soft. Mr Richmond drew up the blinds of the west win 
 dow 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 facf 
 of childish grave meditation, peered into the great bunch ol 
 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 even 
 ing 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, speak 
 ing 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? " 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 273 
 
 "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 nov?, 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 oppor 
 tunity. 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 1 " 
 
 "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. 
 
274 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 1" 
 
 " Yes, sir. 
 
 " You see one opportunity, Matilda." 
 
 " Yes, sir." The answers were very meek. 
 
 " My dear child, is that the only one 1 " 
 
 " I cannot go out, Mr Richmond." 
 
 " No, I understand. But in the house. Have you no op 
 portunities 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. 1 
 
 " 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 unkind- 
 ness]" 
 
 " 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, look 
 ing 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 ! " 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 275 
 
 "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 1 " Mr Rich 
 mond 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 chil 
 dren." 
 
 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 no opportunity to learn something 1 ?" 
 "I am not going to school," said Matilda. 
 " Nor learning anything at home 1 " 
 " Not much. Not much that is good for anything." 
 " Never mind. You can do that for God." 
 11 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. 
 
276 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " I don t care what it is. Yes, mending lace. I don t know 
 what use you will find for that acomplishment, 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 1" 
 
 11 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 277 
 
 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 Eichmond ? " 
 
 " 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 fur 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 1 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 11 spend the least I kin ; and then we 11 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. 
 
278 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 then 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 
 Rhe has been in my bath. Here is your lace, Matilda. I am 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 279 
 
 too busy to hear you read this morning. Take your seat over 
 there, arid see how well you can do this ; it s rather a diffi 
 cult 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 talk 
 ing about what they wesre 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 em 
 broidered white muslin ; there a rosy gauze ; there a black 
 tissue ; here something else of elegant pattern ; with rib 
 bands, 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 1 " 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/ 
 
280 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 "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 punish 
 ment 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, per 
 haps, 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 mend 
 ing 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 281 
 
 and ill-will were not right, nor becoming her profession, nor 
 agreeing at all with that " walking in love " which Mr Rich 
 mond 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 her 
 self 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. 
 
282 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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. Ycu 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 sup 
 pose, 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 oppor 
 tunity 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 2 " 
 
 " 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 283 
 
 "Like enough. Well I won t ask them." 
 
 " Arid 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 11 be very nice 
 when she grows up. I 11 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 1 Not ? 
 Let me see. You have not done a dozen stitches while I 
 have been away ! " 
 
 " 1 11 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 weep 
 ing 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 ? " 
 
 " 1 11 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 anyplace." 
 
 " She may keep you," said Maria ; "but 1 11 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 1 " 
 
284 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 to 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 de 
 cide 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 gOj unless I in 
 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 ?" 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 285 
 
 " 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 re 
 lieved 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 
 
286 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 Ptichmond 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 gratify ingly 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 287 
 
 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. Never 
 theless 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 Sep 
 tember. 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 ] " 
 
288 OPPOKTUNITIES. 
 
 "A great many things, Norton." 
 
 " I should think you had ? Why haven t you been to see 
 mamma 1 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. 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 1 " 
 
 " 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 289 
 
 " 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 arid heard, that 
 Mrs Candy and her daughter were not just like everybody 
 else, and concluded them to be fit persons for her acquaint 
 ance. 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 j 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." 
 
 T 
 
290 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 She is very much at her ease ! thought Mrs Candy. Shall 
 T 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 ! 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 291 
 
 "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 
 fur 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 Shady walk." 
 
 " Oh, I am not in Shady walk," 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 en 
 gaged a Swiss family at last. I expect them to arrive verv 
 soon." 
 
 "From New York?" 
 
 "In Ne\v 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. 
 
292 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 tl All my clothes, Aunt Erminia ? " 
 
 " You will want them all. Issa and I are going on a jour 
 ney 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 out her clothes with fingers that trembled with de 
 light. 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 293 
 
 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. 
 
294 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 1 " 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 gray 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 11 I say to 
 him, thin ? for he s waitin ." 
 
 " I 11 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 295 
 
 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 carnage, 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 7 " 
 
 "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 1 " 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 11 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 be 
 fore 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 
 
296 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 trot 
 ting 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 ; 
 1 ut 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 whick Matilda guessed was her own, 
 and through that passed to another, smaller, but large enough 
 still, where she paused. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 297 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 j 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, dar 
 ling." 
 
 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 arms. 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. 
 
298 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " I try" said Matilda, in a low voice. 
 
 " How happens it, then, dear, that you do not succeed in 
 being happy 1 " 
 
 " 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 j and whatever I 
 want I ask Him for, and He hears me." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 299 
 
 " And does He give you whatever you ask for 1 " 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 uncon 
 scious 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 forlorn- 
 ness 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 1 " 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 1 " 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 
 
300 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 301 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
302 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 in 
 creased the effect, and gave bits of family history, as he 
 knew it, connected with the names. These meadows be 
 longed 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 ex 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 303 
 
 planation, 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 vege 
 tation ; 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, every 
 body depends upon somebody." 
 
 " Well I " said Norton, laughing. 
 
 "You needn t laugh, though, Norton; because, if every 
 body 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." 
 
304 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 "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 1 " 
 
 " Mr Kichmond says, that whenever we have an oppor 
 tunity 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 oppor 
 tunity 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 oppor 
 tunities, till we had nothing to live upon ourselves. 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 305 
 
 "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 no 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 
 
306 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 they re out o my line. Come in, and tell me what you 
 want to say. Where have ye come from 3" 
 
 "I have been having a delightful ride, Miss Eedwood, 
 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 1 " 
 
 "It s new times to have such good gingerbread," said 
 Norton. " This is prime." 
 
 " Have you ever made it since I showed ye ? " Miss Red 
 wood 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 Eedwood, 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 1 says she. Why, yes, 
 says I ; don t it want cleanin 1 But what on airth s the 
 use ? says she. * Well, says I, I don t know ; but we 11 
 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 307 
 
 ain t what we call cleanin in my country ; and if I pay you 
 for cleanin it s all I 11 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 some- 
 thin that didn t belong there, and we began upon her. 
 She was wonderful taken up with seem 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 L 
 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. 
 4 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 1 " 
 
 " Has twice as much sense as ever she showed when she 
 
308 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 was in all that muss. I am sure, come to think of it, I don fc 
 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 Kedwood," said Matilda, rising. 
 
 "Well, you ain t goin now? The minister 11 be in 
 directly." 
 
 " I 11 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." 
 
 "H m! 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 laughf d ;ill the way home. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 309 
 
 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 ex 
 tinguisher, 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 examina 
 tion 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 cambric 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 
 
310 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 approv 
 ing 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 w r ent 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 11 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, 1 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 311 
 
 They are pretty ; clear lemon colour, you know ; the 
 colour of evening primroses." 
 
 "Are there blue tulips too 1 " 
 
 "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 1 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 beauti 
 ful 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 
 
312 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 ? " 
 
 t( A brick 1 " 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." 
 
 "111? "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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 313 
 
 woman in a strange costume, never before known at Shady- 
 walk 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 arid 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 / 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 pro 
 posed, 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 
 
314 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 re 
 marked. 
 
 " 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 begun timidly, and 
 stopped. 
 
 " What then ? " said Mrs Laval, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, just here Pink, mamma," said Norton. 
 
 " What then, Matilda 1 " 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 some 
 where." 
 
 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. Nor 
 ton was to take her by the early train the morning after to 
 go to Poughkeepsie ; and Matilda was to prepare to-day a 
 
OPPOETUNIT1ES. 315 
 
 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 the 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 after 
 noon 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 atmos 
 phere. 
 
316 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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, because 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 mys 
 terious 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 illness 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 de 
 faulters in the household. 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 317 
 
 down to see if there was anybody here. I met Jane just 
 now, going out." 
 
 "I m here yet," said Mattison. " I 11 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 3 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 1 ? I am going down to see to 
 the horses. What do you want, Pink 1 " 
 
 " 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. 
 
318 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 11 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. f 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 319 
 
 Nursing ! nonsense ! they wouldu 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 1 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 1 " 
 
 "I don t know, mamma ; I ve only been to see the horses, 
 They are well." 
 
320 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 "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 tif you ? " 
 
 "I ll try," said Matilda. 
 
 lt 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." 
 
 "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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 321 
 
 " 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 these 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 1 " said Mrs Laval. " There must be some 
 meal here somewhere." 
 
 She went down to search for it. But it was found pre 
 sently 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, 
 
 X 
 
322 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 "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 1 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 11 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 sad 
 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. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 323 
 
 " 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 2 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 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 hi with the beef, sir? in the 
 bottle ? " 
 
324 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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. 
 Norton and his little companion made the rounds help 
 lessly, 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. o J5 
 
 " Miss Redwood 1 who s she ? " 
 
 "Don t you remember? Mr Richmond s housekeeper. 
 She 11 come, I know." 
 
 "She ll be very good if she does," said Norton. "But 
 I 11 tell her you said so. Do you think she would come ] " 
 
 "I m certain of it." 
 
326 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 Rich 
 mond, 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 1 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 com 
 ing 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 327 
 
 Norton went in, glad to be released, for lie 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 asking 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 show you where Switzerland is if you had a map," 
 said Norton. 
 
328 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " I guess I know as much as that myself," said the house 
 keeper quietly, opening the stove door again for a peep at 
 the oven. " But what does that tell me 1 I see a little spot o 
 paper painted green, and a big spot alongside 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 com e ? " 
 
 "They came in a ship part of the way." 
 
 "How fur in a ship?" 
 
 " Three thousand miles." 
 
 " Three thousand," repeated Miss Redwood. " 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. 
 11 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 power 
 ful 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? " 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 329 
 
 " 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 Kedwood dropped her towel, with which she was 
 just going to open the oven again, and stood upright. 
 
 "Beef teal" 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 Kedwood, in a tone that savoured of strong disappro 
 bation, 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 illness 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 1 Not to your house 1 " 
 
330 OPPOKTUNITIES. 
 
 " Oh no. Down at the farmhouse you know our farm 
 house 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 11 come. Don t let 
 the grass grow under your feet." 
 
 Norton was not used to be ordered about quite so de 
 cidedly ; 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, tlrough," 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." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 331 
 
 "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 1 you can t tell." 
 
 " I am sure they \\ould want a nurse then." 
 
 " But you might get ill, you know." 
 
 "Well, Norton, I m not afraid." 
 
 " You might get ill, 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 
 m an age 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 1 Then some gaily disposed crows went flying over 
 head, 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. 
 
332 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Is this the house ? " he asked. " Is Matilda here 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 any 
 body in the house on the bank 2 " 
 
 " 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 1 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 333 
 
 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 indigna 
 tion. " 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 11 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 11 
 get along I don t know. I can t be in two places at once." 
 
334 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " Can t I get the tea, Miss Kedwood ?" 
 
 " 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 11 get along for to-riight ; and I 11 try and be 
 round in the morning, if I kin. But you 11 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 some 
 body 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 rooms 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 11 do for one of ye, and the other 
 you can put the sheets on the bed, can t ye ? for the 
 minister 11 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 11 go," said Miss Redwood. " But if I shouldn t 
 be able fur to run away in the morning and see to the break 
 fast ! " 
 
 She stopped, thinking. 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 335 
 
 " Dear Miss Redwood, won t you trust me to do it ? 1 
 think I can." 
 
 " What sort of a breakfast will it be ? " said the house 
 keeper, meditatively. 
 
 " I \\try to have it right." 
 
 " La, yes, if it depended on your tryin ," said the house 
 keeper ; " 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 11 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 11 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 1 " 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 conies 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 1 " 
 
 "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 
 
336 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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-f ear-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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 337 
 
 of talk at the table ; but it was not in the least like preaching. 
 From the sick Swiss, and their voyage, Mr Eichmond 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 house 
 keeper 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 ven 
 tured, 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." 
 
 y 
 
338 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " What was the question 1 " 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 1 " 
 
 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 1 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 339 
 
 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 1 " 
 
 " But, Mr Richmond, surely there is a right and a wrong 
 answer 1 " 
 
 "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 
 
340 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 them 
 selves. It was in their heart. I cannot blame them, for 
 one. He did not." 
 
 " But ought every one to do so 1 " 
 
 " Matilda, I dare not set any rule but the rule my Master 
 has set. He said, He that forsaketh not all that he hath, 
 lie 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, giveaway, 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 reli 
 gion. Now for Matilda s answer Norton, turn to the Epistle 
 to the Colossians, and the third chapter, and read the seven 
 teenth verse." 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 341 
 
 " 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 belonged to one s 
 self." 
 
 " We don t," said Mr Eichmond. " 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 Eichmond," she said, at last, looking 
 up to his face. " Thank you, sir." 
 
 " It is very nice to have people apply sermons for them 
 selves, Matilda," said the ministerc 
 
342 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 for 
 bidden to come even near the house. Mrs Laval herself stayed 
 at home and did what she could for the sufferers ; but she 
 and Miss Redwood kept house alone together. Not a ser 
 vant 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 Red 
 wood 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 Earth, 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 343 
 
 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 farm 
 house 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 Rich 
 mond 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 an 
 other 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 
 
344 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 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 eddy 
 ing 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 dis 
 tracted 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 some 
 thing 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 wait 
 ing ; 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 ? " 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 345 
 
 " 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 under 
 stand 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 1 " 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 Rich 
 mond, waiting to hear more. 
 
 " It is all true," said her friend. 
 
 " Is it for always ? " Matilda asked, in a low voice. 
 
346 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 1 " 
 
 " I have not spoken to him. I really cannot tell." 
 
 Again silence fell. Matilda stood with her eyes down 
 cast, 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 1 " 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 
 
OPPORTUNITIES. 347 
 
 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 yourself 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 cir 
 cumstances 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 Rich 
 mond?" 
 
 " Different opportunities. You have had no lack of them 
 so far, have you 1 " 
 
 " 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?" 
 
348 OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 " 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 BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON 
 
October 1870. 
 
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 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY