The House in Town

"Dirt is nothing," said Norton, buttoning up his great coat comfortably. He had just loosened it to get at some change for the car fare.

"Dirt is nothing?" repeated Matilda looking at him.

"I mean, Pink," said he laughing, "it is nothing to them. They are as dirty as they can be already; a little more or less makes no difference."

"I wonder if they are as cold as they can be, too," said Matilda meditatively.

"No!" said Norton. "Not they. They are used to it. They don't feel it."

"How can you tell, Norton?"

"I can tell. I can see. They are jolly enough sometimes; when they aren't boring for cents."

"But that little girl, Norton, – all of them, – they hadn't much on!"

"No," said Norton; "I suppose not. It's no use to look and think about it, Pink. They are accustomed to it; it isn't what it would be to you. Don't think about it. You'll be always seeing sights in New York. The best way is not to see."

But Matilda did think about it "Not what it would be to her"! why, it would kill her, very quickly. Of course it must be not exactly so to these children, since they did not die; but what was it to them? Not warmth and comfort; not a pleasant spending of time for pleasure.

"Norton," she began again just as they were getting out of the car, "it seems to me that if those children sweep the streets, it is right to give them pay for it. They are trying to earn something."

"You can't," said Norton. "There are too many of them. You cannot be putting your hand in your pocket for pennies all the while, and stopping under the heels of the horses. I do once in a while give them something. You can't be doing it always."

CHAPTER VII

Norton asked to be allowed to go with the shopping party, which his mother refused. To Matilda's disappointment, she took Miss Judy instead. Matilda would rather have had any other one of the household. However, nothing could spoil the pleasure of driving to Stewart's. To know it so cold, and yet feel so comfortable; to see how the dust flew in whirlwinds and the wind caught people and staggered them, and yet not to be touched by a breath; to see how the foot travellers had to fight with both wind and dust, and to feel at the same time the easy security, the safe remove from everything so ugly and disagreeable, which they themselves enjoyed behind the glass of their Clarence; it was a very pleasant experience. The other two did not seem to enjoy it; they were accustomed to the sensation, or it had ceased to be one for them. Matilda was in a state of delight every foot of the way. This was what she had come to, this safety and ease and elegance and immunity. She was higher than the street or the street-goers, by just so much as the height of the axletree of the carriage. How about those little dust covered street-sweepers?

The thought of them jarred. There was nothing between them and the roughest of the rough. How came they to be there, at the street corners, and Matilda here, behind these clear plates of glass which enclosed the front of the carriage?

"How very disagreeable it is to day!" Mrs. Laval said with a shudder. "This is some of New York's worst weather."

"It's just horrid!" said Judy.

"I would not take a walk to-day, for all I am worth," the lady went on. "There is one thing; there will be fewer people out, and we shall not have to wait so fearfully long to be served."

The carriage stopped before a large white building, and Matilda followed the others in, full of curiosity and eager pleasure. In through the swinging doors, and then through such a crowd of confusion that she could think of nothing but to keep close behind Mrs. Laval; till they all stopped at a counter and Mrs. Laval sat down. What a wonderful place it seemed to Matilda! A small world that was all shops – or one shop; and the only business of that world was buying and selling things to wear. Just at this counter people were getting silk dresses, it appeared; here, and all round the room in which Mrs. Laval was seated; blue and rose silks were displayed in one part; black silks before some customers; figured and parti-coloured silks were held up to please others; what colour was there not? and what beauty? Matilda found that whatever Mrs. Laval wanted of her that afternoon, it was not any help in making her purchases; and she was quite at liberty to use her eyes upon everything. The beautiful goods on the counters were the great attraction, however; Matilda could not look away much from the lustre of the crimson and green and blue and tawny and grey and lavender which were successively or together exhibited for Mrs. Laval's behoof; and she listened to find out if she could by the quantities ordered, which of them, if any, were for herself. She was pretty sure that a dark green and a crimson had that destination; and her little heart beat high with pleasure.

From the silk room they went on to another where the articles were not interesting to look at; and Matilda discovered that the coming and going people were. She turned her back upon the counter and watched the stream as it flowed past and around her. Miss Judith also here found herself thrown out of amusement, and came round to Matilda. They had hardly spoken to each other hitherto. Now Miss Judy's eye first went up and down the little figure which was such a new one in her surroundings. Matilda knew it, but she could bear it.

"You were never here before?" said her companion.

"Never," Matilda answered.

"What do you think of it?"

"I think they have nice things here," said Matilda.

Judith did not at all know what to make of this answer.

"What is aunt Zara going to get for you?"

"I do not know – some dresses, I think."

Judith's eye ran up and down Matilda's dress again. "That was made in the country, wasn't it?"

"Mrs. Laval had it made."

"Yes, but you will want another. Aunt Zara – aunt Zara! – Aren't you going to get her a cloak?"

"A cloak?" said Mrs. Laval looking round. "Yes; that is what I brought her for."

"There!" said Judy, "now you know something you didn't know before. What sort of a cloak would you like?"

"I don't know," said Matilda in a flutter of delight. "Mrs. Laval knows."

"I suppose she does, but she doesn't know what you would like, unless you tell her. Let us watch the people coming in and see if we see anything you would like. Isn't it funny?"

"What?" Matilda asked.

"All of it. To see the people. They are all sorts, you know, and so funny. There are two Irish women, – very likely they have come in from the shanties near the Central Park, to buy some calico dresses. Look at them! – ten cent calicoes, and they are asking the shopman, I dare say, if they can't have that one for nine. I suppose the calicoes are made for them. No, there is somebody else wanting one. She's from the country."

"How do you know?"

"Easy enough. See how she has got her hands folded over each other; nobody does that but somebody that has come from the country. See her hat, too; that's a country hat. If you could see her feet, you would see that she has great thick country shoes."

Judy's eye as she spoke glanced down again at the floor where Matilda's feet stood; and it seemed to Matilda that the very leather of her boots could feel the look. They were country boots. Did Judy mean, that?

"There's another country woman," the young lady went on. "See? – this one in a velvet cloak. That's a cotton velvet, though."

"But how can you tell she's from the country?"

"She's all corners!" said Judith. "Her cloak was made by a carpenter, and her head looks as if it was made by a mason. If you could see her open her mouth, I've no doubt you would find that it is square. There! – here! – how would you like a cloak like this one?"

The two were looking at a child who passed them just then, in a velvet cloak stiff with gimp and bugle embroidery.

"I don't think it is pretty," said Matilda.

"It is rich," said Judy. "But it is not cut by anybody that knew how. You can see that. Why don't you ask aunt Zara to let you have a black satin cloak?"

"Black satin?" said Matilda.

"Yes. Black satin. It is so rich; and it is not heavy; and there is more shine to it than silk has. A black satin cloak trimmed with velvet – that is what I should like if I were you."

A strong desire for a black satin cloak forthwith sprang up in Matilda's mind.

"There is not anything more fashionable," Judy went on; "and velvet is just the prettiest trimming. When we go up to look at cloaks, you see if you can spy such a one; if you can't, it would be easy to get the stuff and have it made. Just as easy. I don't believe we shall find any ready made, for they are so fashionable, they will be likely to be all bought up. Dear me! what a figure that is!" exclaimed Judy, eying a richly dressed lady who brushed by them.

"Isn't her dress handsome?" Matilda asked.