The House in Town

She asked Norton to go with her to Laddler's shoe store.

"Well," said Norton; "but we must go to the Park to-day."

"And Madame Fournissons wants to see you this afternoon," said Mrs. Laval. "I think the Park must wait, Norton."

"But I have only to-day and to-morrow, mamma. School begins Monday."

"To-morrow will do for the Park," said Mrs. Laval. "And you will have other Saturdays, Norton."

Matilda went upstairs to get ready, thinking that she was beginning to find out what sort of "opportunities" were likely to be given her in her new home. She was going to have opportunity for self-conquest, for self-denial, harder than she had ever known hitherto; opportunity to follow the straight path where it was not always easy to see it, and where it could only be found by keeping the face steadily in the right direction. In the midst of these thoughts, however, she dressed herself with great glee; put her purse in her pocket; and set out with Norton, remembering that in this matter of buying her boots her motto must come in play.

As it was rather early in the morning, the shoe store of Mr. Laddler was nearly empty, and Matilda had immediate attention. Matilda told what she wanted; the shopman glanced an experienced eye over her little figure, from her hat to the ground; gave her a seat, and proceeded to fit her. The very first pair of boots "went on like a glove," the man said. And they were very handsome. But the price was seven dollars! It would take her whole stock in hand.

"Can't you give me a pair that will cost less?" Matilda asked, after a pause of inward dismay.

"Those are what you want," said the man. "They fit, to a T; you cannot better that fit."

"But you have some that don't cost so much?"

"They would not look so well," said the shopman. "We have boots not finished in the same style, for less money; but you want those. That's the article."

"Please let me see the others."

He brought some to shew. They were of less fine and beautifully dressed stuff, were more coarsely made, and less elegant in their cut. Matilda saw all that, and hesitated. The man looked at her.

"There's a pair here," he said, turning back to his drawer, "that I can let you have for five dollars; – just as good as that first pair."

He produced them and tried one on. It seemed to be quite as he had said. Matilda could see no difference.

"That will do," said he, "if you like them. They are exactly as well made as that first pair; and of the same leather."

"Then why are they only five dollars," Matilda asked, "while the others are seven?"

"Fashion," said the man. "Nothing else. You see, those are wide at the toe; that was the style worn last winter; these first, you see, are very narrow at the toe. There is no demand for these now; so I can let you have them low. If you like these, I will let you have them for four and a half. Seven dollar boots."

Matilda felt a pang of uncertainty. That would save her two and a half dollars of her seven, and she would have pennies for street girls and change for other objects. But Judy would look at those square toes, and think that Matilda was from the country and did not know, as she said, what was what. The thought of Judy's eyes and smile was not to be borne.

"I will take the others," she said hastily to the shopman – "the first you tried on."

"I thought so," said the man. "Those are what you want."

Matilda paid, and Norton ordered them sent home, and the two left the shop.

"If that had been a good shoemaker," said Norton, "he would have fitted you in half the time. We have been half an hour there."

"O that is my fault, Norton," said Matilda; "because I could not decide which fashion to have."

"Sure you have got the right one now?" said Norton.

"I got the newest."

"That's the right one," said Norton, as if the question was settled.

But it was not settled, in Matilda's mind; and all the way home she was trying the boots over again. Had she done right? It was on her lips to say she wished there were no such thing as fashion, but conscience checked her; she felt it was very delightful to be in the fashion. Was that wrong? How could it be wrong? But she had paid for being in the fashion. Had she paid too much? And was she any the better for having round toes to her boots, that she should be so delighted about it? She wanted to be as well dressed as Judy. She wanted that Judy should not be able to laugh at her for a country girl. She could not help feeling that, she thought; but then, she had paid for it. Was this going to be the way always?

Matilda was in such a confusion of thoughts that she did not know what she was passing in the street. Only, she did know when there were little street-sweepers at the crossings, and she tried to slip by without seeming to see them, and to put Norton between them and herself. Not a penny had she for one of them. And she would not have, until the month came round again. Fashion certainly cost. But she had the narrow-toed boots; she was glad of that.

"What ails you?" said Norton at last. "Are you cold?"

"No, Norton. Nothing ails me. I am thinking."

"About what? You think a great deal too much. Pink, we will go to the Park this afternoon; that will give you something to think about."

"Norton, we cannot this afternoon, you know. I have got to go to the dressmaker's."

"O so you have! What a nuisance. Well, to-morrow, then. And I say, Pink! there is another thing you have to think of – Christmas presents."

"Christmas presents!" said Matilda.

"Yes; we always have a great time. Only David and Judy do scowl; it is fun to see them."

"Don't they like Christmas presents?" said Matilda, very much bewildered.

"Christmas presents all right; but not Christmas. You know they are Jews."

"Jews?" said Matilda. "What then? What has their being Jews to do with it?"

"Why!" said Norton, "don't you know? Do you think Jews love Christmas? You forget what Christmas is, don't you?"

"O – I remember. They don't believe in Christ," said Matilda in an awed and sorrowful tone.

"Of course. And that's a mild way to put it," rejoined Norton. "But grandmamma will always keep Christmas with all her might, and aunt Judy too; just because Davie and Judy don't like it, I believe. So we have times."

"But how comes it they don't like what you all like, and their mother?" Matilda asked.

"They have Jew relations, you see," said Norton; "and that goes very much against the grain with aunt Judy. There is some old Rabbi here in New York that is David's great uncle and makes much of him; and so David has been taught about Jewish things, and told, I suppose, that he must never forget he is a Jew; and he don't, I guess. Not often."

"Is he good?" asked Matilda.

"Good? David Bartholomew? Not particularly. Yes, he is good in a way. He knows how to behave himself."

"Then how is he not good?"

"He has a mind of his own," said Norton; "and if you try him, you will find he has a temper. I have seen him fight – I tell you! – like that Bengal tiger if he was a Jew; when a fellow tried him a little too hard. His mother don't know, and you mustn't tell mamma. The boys let him alone now."

"At school, was it?" said Matilda.

"At school. You see, fellows try a boy at school, all round, till they find where they can have him; and then he has got to shew what he is made of."