Opportunities Part 24

"I will," said Maria. "I will talk. It is the only comfort I have. What is she up to now?"

"Just that," said Matilda. "She found I had been to Lilac Lane, and she said I must not go again without her knowing; and she will never let me go. I needn't ask her. She doesn't like me to go there. And I wanted to do so much! If she could only have waited--only have waited----"

"What made you let her know you had been there?"

"She found out. I couldn't help it. Now she will not let me go ever again. Never, never!"

"What did you want to do in Lilac Lane, Tilly?"

"Oh, things. I wanted to do a great deal. Things.--They'll never be done!" cried Matilda, in bitter distress. "I cannot do them now. I cannot do anything."

"She is as mean as she can live!" said Maria again. "But Tilly, I don't believe Lilac Lane is a good place for you, neither. What did you want to do there? what _could_ you do?"

"Things," said Matilda, indefinitely.

"You are not old enough to go poking about Lilac Lane by yourself."

"I can't go any way," said Matilda.

She cried a long while to wash down this disappointment, and the effects of it did not go off in the tears. The child became very silent and sober. Her duties she did, as she had done them, about the house and in Mrs. Candy's room; but the bright face and the glad ways were gone. In the secret of her private hours Matilda had struggles to go through that left her with the marks of care upon her all the rest of the time.

The next Sunday she was made to go to church with her aunt. She went to her own Sunday-school in the afternoon; but she was not allowed to get off early enough for the reading and talk with Mary and Ailie. Lem Dow, however, was on hand; that was one single drop of comfort. He looked for his sugared almonds and they were on hand too; and besides that, Matilda was able to see that he was quite pleased with the place and the singing and the doings in his cla.s.s, and making friends with the boys.

"Will you come next Sunday?" Matilda asked him, as they were going out.

He nodded.

"Won't Jemima come too, if you ask her?"

"I won't ask her."

"No? why not?"

"I don't want her to come."

"You don't want her to come? Why it is a pleasant place, isn't it?"

"It's a heap more jolly if she ain't here," said Lem, knowingly.

It was a difficult argument to answer, with one whose general benevolence was not very full grown yet. Matilda went home thinking how many people wanted something done for them, and how she could touch n.o.body. She was not allowed to go to church in the evening.

CHAPTER VI.

The days seemed to move slowly. They were such troublesome days to Matilda. From the morning bath, which was simply her detestation, all through the long hours of reading, and patching, and darning in Mrs.

Candy's room, the time dragged; and no sooner was dinner over, than she began to dread the next morning again. It was not so much for the cold water as for the relentless hand that applied it. Matilda greatly resented having it applied to her at all by any hand but her own; it was an aggravation that her aunt minded that, and her, no more than if she had been a baby. It was a daily trial, and daily trouble; for Matilda was obliged to conquer herself, and be silent, and submit where her whole soul rose and rebelled. She must not speak her anger, and pleadings were entirely disregarded. So she ran down in the morning when her aunt's bell rang, and was pa.s.sive under all that Mrs. Candy pleased to inflict; and commanded herself when she wanted to cry for vexation, and was still when words of entreaty or defiance rose to her lips. The sharp lesson of self-control Matilda was learning now. She had to practise it again when she took her hours of needlework. Mrs.

Candy was teaching her now to knit, and now to mend lace, and then to make b.u.t.tonholes; and she required perfection; and Matilda was forced to be very patient, and careful to the extreme of carefulness, and docile when her work was pulled out, and persevering when she was quite tired and longed to go down and help Maria in the kitchen. She was learning useful arts, no doubt, but Matilda did not care for them; all the while the most valuable thing she was learning was the lesson of power over herself. Well if that were all. But there were some things also down in the bottom of Matilda's heart which it was not good to learn; and she knew it; but she did not know very well how to help it.

Several weeks had gone by in this manner, and now June was about over.

Matilda had not gone to Lilac Lane again, nor seen Norton, nor made any of her purchases for Mrs. Eldridge. She had almost given all that up.

She wondered that she saw nothing of Norton; but if he had ever come to the house she had not heard of it. Matilda was not allowed to go out in the evening now any more. No more Band meetings, or prayer meetings, or church service in the evening for her. And in the morning of Sunday Mrs. Candy was very apt to carry her off to her own church, which Matilda disliked beyond all expression. But she went as quietly as if she had liked it.

Things were in this state, when one evening Maria came up to bed and burst out as soon as she had got into the room,--

"Think of it! They are going to New York to-morrow."

Matilda was bewildered, and asked who was going to New York.

"_They_. Aunt Erminia and Clarissa. To be gone all day! Hurrah! We'll have just what we like for dinner, and I'll let the kitchen fire go out."

"Are they going down to New York to-morrow?" said Matilda, standing and looking at her sister.

"By the early train. Don't you hear me tell you?"

"I thought it was too good news to be true," said Matilda, drawing a long breath.

"It is, almost; but they are going. They are going to do shopping.

That's what it's for. And I say, Matilda, won't we have a great dinner to get!"

"They will want dinner after they get home."

"No, they won't. They will take dinner somehow down there. Why they will not be home, Tilly, till nine o'clock. They can't. The train don't get up till a quarter-past eight, that train they are going to take; and they will have to be an hour pretty near riding up from the station. Hurrah! hurrah!"

"Hush! don't make so much noise. They will hear you."

"No, they won't. They have come up to bed. We are to have breakfast at six o'clock. We shall have all the longer day."

"Then I hope Aunt Candy will not have time to give me my bath."

"No, she won't; she told me to tell you. You are to be ever so early, and help me to get the breakfast. I shall not know what to do with the day, though, I shall want to do so much. That is the worst of it."

Matilda thought _she_ would be under no such difficulty, if only her way were not so hedged in. The things she would have liked to do were forbidden things. She might not go to Lilac Lane; she might not go to Mrs. Laval's. She half expected that her aunt would say she must not go out of the house at all. That misfortune, however, did not happen. The early breakfast and bustle and arrangements for getting off occupied Mrs. Candy so completely that she gave no commands whatever. The omnibus fairly drove away with her, and left Maria and Matilda unrestricted by any new restrictions.

"It seems," said Matilda, gravely, as they stood by the gate, "it seems as if I could see the sky again. I haven't seen it this great while."

"Seen the sky!" said Maria; "what has ailed you? You have gone out often enough."

"It didn't seem as if I could see the sky," said Matilda, gazing up into the living blue depth above her. "I can see it now."

"You are funny," said Maria. "It don't seem to me as if I had seen anything, for weeks. Dear me! to-day will be only too short."

"It is half-past six now," said Matilda. "Between now and nine o'clock to-night there are--let me see; half-past twelve will be six hours, and half-past six will be twelve hours; six, seven, eight, nine,--nine will be two hours and a half more; that will be fourteen and a half hours."

"Fourteen," said Maria, "That half we shall be expecting them."

"Well, we've got to go in and put the house in order, first thing,"