Part 4 (1/2)
”That isn't hickory,” said Norton. ”It's oak.”
”Part of it is hickory, Norton, I know. But I suppose oak is sweet.”
”I think everything is sweet to you,” said Norton.
”I do think it is,” said Matilda. ”Everything is to-night, I am sure.
Everything. Isn't this just as pleasant as it can be?”
”It's jolly,” said Norton. ”Let's have on another stick. Now we can think and talk what we will do.”
”What we will _do_, Norton?” Matilda repeated.
”Yes. We've got no end of things to do. Why, now we can do what we like, Pink. You aren't going away any more; and we can just lay our plans in comfort.”
”I didn't know we had any plans to lay,” said Matilda. She looked as if the present was good enough. The firelight shone on a little figure and face of most utter contentment, there down on the rug; a soft little head, a very gentle face, but alive with pleasant thoughts.
”We want to get home now,” continued Norton.
”But it is pleasant here, too. O Norton!” Matilda broke out suddenly, ”you don't know how pleasant! Now I can take the good of it. I did before, in a way; but then I was always thinking it would maybe stop to-morrow. Now it will never stop; I am so glad!”
”What will never stop?”
”O I don't know. It seems to me my happiness will never stop. You don't know anything about it, Norton. To think I am not to go back to that old life again--I was afraid of it every day; and now to-night at tea, and _now_, I am as happy as I can be. I can't think of it enough.”
”Of what, Pink?”
”Of that. That I am not to go back to aunt Candy any more.”
”What do you think of where you _are_ going?” asked Norton a little jealously. But his face cleared the next instant.
”Norton,” said Matilda, ”I _can't_ think of it,--not yet. It is too good to think of all at once. I have to take part at a time. If I did think of it, I don't know but it would seem too good to be true.”
”Well it isn't,” said Norton. ”Now Pink, we'll fix those hyacinth and tulip beds all right. You haven't chosen your bulbs yet. And then, when we have planted our bulbs--I hope it is not too late yet, but I declare I don't know!--perhaps we'll leave the winter to take care of them, and we'll go off to New York till spring. How would you like that?”
”I don't care where I go,” said Matilda,--”with you and Mrs. Laval.”
”You never saw New York, did you?”
”No, never. Is it pleasanter than Briery Bank, Norton?”
”Well, not when the tulips are out, perhaps; but in the cold weather it's jolly enough. It's queer, though.”
”Queer?” repeated Matilda curiously.
”I wonder if you wouldn't think so,” said Norton. ”I don't mean New York, you know; that's all right; but our house.”
”I didn't know you had a house in New York,” said Matilda.
”No, of course not; how should you? but now it's different. Pink, it is very jolly!” said Norton, quitting his seat in the chimney corner and coming down on the rug beside Matilda. ”That's a good fire to roast chestnuts.”