The House in Town

"I have heard of her," she said.

"Yes, but you must kiss her. She is one of us."

"She is mine," said Mrs. Laval meaningly, putting both arms around Matilda and drawing her to her mother.

The stately lady stooped and kissed the child, evidently because she was thus asked.

"Grandmamma, she is to have half my place in your heart," said Norton.

"Will you give it up to her?" Mrs. Lloyd asked.

"It is just as good as my having it," said Norton.

Perhaps he would have presented Matilda then to his aunt, but that lady had turned off into the drawing room; and the travellers mounted the stairs with Mrs. Lloyd to see their apartments and to prepare for dinner. The ladies went into a large room opening from the upper hall; Norton and the girl Matilda had noticed went bounding up the second flight of stairs.

Mrs. Laval lay down on a couch, and said she would have a cup of tea before dressing. While she took it, Mrs. Lloyd sat beside her and the two talked very busily. Matilda, left to herself, put off her coat and hat and sat down at the other side of the fire, for a fire was burning in the grate, and pondered the situation. The house was like a palace in a fairy tale, surely, she thought. Her eyes were dazzled with the glimmer from gildings and mirrors and lamps hanging from the ceilings. Her foot fell on soft carpets. The hangings of the bed were of blue silk. The couches were covered with rich worsted work. Pictures made the walls dainty. Beautiful things which she could not examine yet, stood on the various tables. It immediately pressed on Matilda's attention, that to be of a piece with all this elegance and not out of place among the people inhabiting there, she had need to be very elegant herself. The best dress in her whole little stock was the brown merino she had worn to travel in. She had thought it very elegant in Shadywalk; but how did it look alongside of Miss Judy's blue silk? Matilda had nothing better, at any rate. She glanced down at her boots, to see how they would do. They were her best Sunday boots. They were neat, she concluded. They wanted a little brushing from dust; then they would do pretty well. But she did not think they were elegant. The soles of them were rather too thick for that. At this point her attention was drawn to what was saying at the other side of the fire.

"Do the children dine with us?"

"To-day."

"Not in ordinary?"

"It is bad for the boys; puts them out. One o'clock suits them a great deal better. And six is a poor hour for children always. And with company of course it is impossible; and that makes irregularity; and that is bad."

"I suppose it is best so," said Mrs. Laval with half a sigh. "What room is Matilda to have, mother?"

"Matilda? – O, your new child. You want her to have a room to herself?"

"Yes."

"I will let her have the little front corner room, if you like. There is room enough."

"That will do," said Mrs. Laval. "Come, darling, let us go upstairs and look at it. Then you will begin to feel at home."

She sprang off the sofa, and taking Matilda's hand they mounted together the second flight of stairs; wide, uncarpeted, smooth, polished stairs they were; to the upper hall. Just at the head of the stairs Mrs. Laval opened a door. It let them into a pretty little room; little indeed only by comparison with other larger apartments of the house; it was of a pleasant size, with two great windows; and being a corner room, its windows looked out in two directions, over two several city views. Matilda had no time to examine them just then; her attention was absorbed by the room. It had a rich carpet; the hangings and covering of the bed were dark green; an elegant little toilet table was furnished with crystal, and the washcloset had painted green china dishes. There were pictures here too, and little foot cushions, and a beautiful chest of drawers, and a tall wardrobe for dresses. The room was full.

"This will do very nicely," said Mrs. Laval. "You wanted a south window, Matilda; here it is. I think you will like this room better than one of those large ones, darling; they are large enough for you to get lost in. See, here is the gas jet, when you want light; and here are matches, Matilda. And now you will have a place where you can be by yourself when you wish it; and at other times you can come down to me. You will feel at home, when you get established here, and have some dresses to hang up in that wardrobe. That is one of the first things you and I must attend to. I could not do it at Shadywalk. So come down now, dear, to my room, and we will get ready for dinner. Are you tired, love?"

Matilda met and answered the kiss that ended this speech, and went downstairs again a very contented child. However, all her getting ready for dinner that day consisted in a very thorough brushing of her short hair, and a little furtive endeavour to get rid of some specks of dust on her boots. She sat down then and waited, while Mrs. Laval changed her travelling dress, and Mrs. Bartholomew alternately assisted and talked to her. That elegant crimson satin robe swept round the room in a way that was very imposing to Matilda. She could not help feeling like a little brown thrush in the midst of a company of resplendent parrots and birds of paradise. But she did not much care. Only she thought it would be very pleasant to have the wardrobe upstairs furnished with a set of dresses to correspond somewhat with her new splendid surroundings. Mrs. Bartholomew had not spoken to her yet, nor anybody, except Mrs. Laval's mother. Matilda thought herself forgotten; but when the ladies were about to go downstairs, Mrs. Laval called her sister's attention to the subject.

"Judith, this is my new child."

Mrs. Bartholomew cast a comprehensive glance at Matilda, or all over her. Matilda could not have told whether she had looked at her until then.

"Where did you pick her up, Zara?"

"I did not pick her up," said Mrs. Laval, smiling at Matilda. "A wave wafted her into my arms."

"What sort of a wave?" said the other lady dryly.

"No matter what sort of a wave. You see from what sort of a shore this flower must have drifted."

"You are poetical," said the other, laughing slightly. "You always were. Shall we go down?"

Mrs. Laval stretched out her hand to Matilda and held it in a warm clasp as they went down the stairs; and still held her fast and seated her by herself in the drawing room. It was the only point of connection with the rest of the world that Matilda felt she had just then. Until Norton came running downstairs with his two cousins, and entered the room.

"Come here, Judy," said Mrs. Laval. "This is my new little daughter, Matilda. You two must be good cousins and friends."

Miss Black-eyes took Matilda's hand; but somehow Matilda could perceive neither the friendship nor the cousinship in the touch of it.

"Matilda what?" Miss Judith asked. Her aunt hesitated an instant.

"She has not learned yet to do without her old name. Her new name is mine, of course."

Matilda was a good deal startled and a little dismayed. Was she to give up her own name then, and be called Laval? she had not heard of it before. She was not sure that she liked it at all. There was no time to think about it now.

"David," Mrs. Laval went on, "come here. I want you all to be good friends as soon as possible."

She put Matilda's hand in his as she spoke. But David said never a word; only he bowed over Matilda's hand in the most calmly polite manner, and let it drop. He was not shy, Matilda thought, or he could not have made such an elegant reverence; but he did not speak a word. His aunt laughed a little, and yet gave a glance of admiration at the boy.

"You are not changed," she said.

Changed in what? Matilda wondered; and she looked to see what she could make out in David Bartholomew. He was not so dark as his sister; he had rich brown hair; and the black eyes were not snapping and sparkling like hers, but large, lustrous, proud, and rather gloomy, it seemed to the little stranger's fancy. She looked away again; she did not like him. In another minute they were called to dinner.

It was but to walk across the hall, and Matilda found herself seated at the most imposing board she had ever beheld. Certainly everything at Mrs. Laval's table was beautiful and costly; but there it had been only a table for two or three; no company, and the simplest way of the house. Here there was a good tableful, and a large table; and the sparkle of glass and silver quite dazzled the child's unaccustomed eyes. How much silver, and what brilliant and beautiful glass! She wondered at the profusion of forks by her own plate, and almost thought the waiter must have made a mistake; but she saw Norton was as well supplied. The lights, and the flowers, and the fruit in the centre of the table, and the gay silks and laces around it, and all the appointments of the elegant room, almost bewildered Matilda. Yet she thought it was very pleasant too, and extremely pretty; and discovered that eating dinner was a great deal more of a pleasure when the eyes could be so gratified at the same time with the taste. However, soup was soup, she found, to a hungry little girl.

"Pink," said Norton, after he had swallowed his soup, – "where do you think we will go first?" Norton had got a seat beside her and spoke in a confidential whisper.

"I am going with your mother to-morrow," Matilda returned in an answering whisper. "So she said."

"That won't tire you out," said Norton. "After she goes, or before she goes, you and I will go. Where first?"

"You and I alone?" said Matilda softly.

"Alone!"

"Norton," said Matilda very softly, "I think I want to go first of all to the shoemaker's."

Norton had nearly burst out into a laugh, but he crammed his napkin against his face.

"You dear Pink!" he said; "that isn't anywhere. That's business. I mean pleasure. You see, next week I shall begin to go to school, and my time will be pretty nicely taken up, except Saturday. We have got three days before next week. And you have got to see everything."

"But Norton, I do not know what there is to see."

"That's true. You don't, to be sure. Well Pink, there's the Park; but we must have a good day for that; to-day is so cold it would bite our noses. We can go every afternoon, if it's good. Then there is the Museum; and there is a famous Menagerie just now."

"Oh Norton!" – said Matilda.