Part 33 (2/2)

”What are you looking at, my darling?”

Matilda started. ”Have you got through, mamma? did you want me?”

”I have got through; but I do not want you unless you are ready. What have you found that pleases you?”

”Look, mamma. That one--the woman holding a lamp--don't you see?”

It was Holman Hunt's figure of the woman searching for the lost piece of money.

”What is it?” said Mrs. Laval.

”Don't you remember, mamma? the story of the woman who had ten pieces of silver and lost one of them? how she swept the house, and looked until she found it?”

”If I had nine left, I should not take so much trouble,” said Mrs.

Laval.

”Ah, but, mamma, you know the Lord Jesus does not think so.”

”The Lord! _What_ are you talking of, my child?”

”O you do not remember, mamma! It is a parable. The Lord Jesus means us to know how _He_ cares for the lost ones.”

Mrs. Laval looked from Matilda to the picture and back again.

”Do you like it so very much?” she said.

”O I do, mamma! it's beautiful. What an odd lamp she has.”

”That is the shape lamps used to be,” said Mrs. Laval. ”Not so good as ours.”

”Prettier,” said Matilda. ”And it seems to give a good light. No, it don't, though; it s.h.i.+nes only on a little place. But it's pretty.”

”You do love pretty things,” said Mrs. Laval laughing. ”We will come and look at it again.”

Matilda, it shewed how enterprising she was getting to be, had already privately inquired the price of the picture. It was fifteen dollars without a frame. Far up over her little head indeed. She drew a long breath, and came away.

The latter part of the week another engrossment appeared, in the shape of her new dresses from Mme. Fournissons. Mrs. Laval tried them all on; and Matilda's head had almost more than it could stand. So many, so handsome, so elegantly made and trimmed, so very becoming they were; it was like a fairy tale. To these dresses Mrs. Laval had been all the week adding riches of under-clothing; a supply so abundant that Matilda had never dreamed of the like, and so elegant and fine in material and make as she had never until then even seen. Now Matilda had a natural liking for extreme neatness and particularity in all that concerned her little person; and to have such plenty of things to wear, so nice of their kind, and full liberty to put them on clean and fresh as often as she pleased, fulfilled her utmost notions of what was desirable. Her mental confusion arose from the articles furnished by Mme. Fournissons.

The l.u.s.tre of the silk, the colour of the blue, the richness of the green, the ruffles, the costly b.u.t.tons, the tasteful tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, the stylish make, all raised a whirl in Matilda's mind. She was a little intoxicated. n.o.body saw it; she was very demure about it all; made no show of what she felt; all the same she felt it. She could not help a deep satisfaction at being dressed to the full as well as Judy; a feeling that was not lessened by a certain sense that the satisfaction was on her part alone. Of the two, that is. Mrs. Laval openly expressed hers. Mrs. Lloyd nodded her dignified head and remarked, ”That child will do you no discredit, Zara.” Mrs. Bartholomew looked at her, which was much; and Norton declared that from a pink she had bloomed out into a carnation. All these things Matilda felt; and unconsciously in all that concerned dress and equipment she began to set a new standard for herself. One thing must match with another. ”Of _course_, I must have round-toed boots,” she said to herself now. She began to doubt whether she must not get at least one pair of gloves more elegant than any she found at Shadywalk, to go with her silk dresses and her new coat. She hesitated still, for the price was a dollar and a quarter.

Upon all this came Mr. Richmond's letter; and Matilda found it did not exactly fit her mood of mind. She was confused already, and this made the confusion worse. Then Sat.u.r.day came; and Norton was free; and he and Matilda made another round of shop-going. The matter was growing imminent now; Christmas would be in a fortnight. But the difficulty of deciding upon the choice of presents seemed as great as ever. Seeing more things to choose from, only increased the difficulty. They went this morning to Stewart's, to find out what might be displayed upon the variety counter; they went to a place where Swiss carvings were shewn; finally they went to Anthony's; and they could not get away from this last place.

”It's long past one o'clock, Pink,” said Norton as they were going down the stairs.

”What shall we do, Norton? I'm very hungry.”

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