Opportunities Part 37

How is it?"

Matilda's eyes went back to the blue mountains. How much ought she to tell?

"I think--I suppose--I ought to be happy," she said at last.

"I think you always try to do what you think you ought to do; isn't that so?"

"I _try_," said Matilda in a low voice.

"How happens it, then, dear, that you do not succeed in being happy?"

"I don't know," said Matilda. "I suppose I should, if I were quite good."

"If you were quite good. Have you so many things to make you happy?"

"I think I have."

"Tell them to me," said Mrs. Laval, pressing her cheek against Matilda's hair in caressing fas.h.i.+on; "it is pleasant to talk of one's pleasant things, and I should like to hear of yours. What are they, love?"

What did the lady mean? Matilda hesitated, but Mrs. Laval was quietly waiting for her to speak. She had her arms wrapped round Matilda, and her face rested against her hair, and so she was waiting. It was plain that Matilda must speak. Still she waited, uncertain how to frame her words, uncertain how they would be understood; till at last the consciousness that she had waited a good while, drove her to speak suddenly.

"Why, ma'am," she said, "the first thing is, that I belong to the Lord Jesus Christ."

The lady paused now in her turn, and her voice when she spoke was somewhat husky.

"What is the next thing, dear?"

"Then, I know that G.o.d is my Father."

"Go on," said the lady, as Matilda was silent.

"Well--that is it," said Matilda. "I belong to the Lord Jesus; and I love Him, and I know He loves me; and He takes care of me, and will take care of me; and whatever I want I ask Him for, and He hears me."

"And does He give you whatever you ask for?" said the lady, in a tone again changed.

"If He don't, He will give me something better," was the answer.

Maybe Mrs. Laval might have taken up the words from some lips. But the child on her lap spoke them so quietly, her face was in such a sweet rest of a.s.surance, and one little hand rose and fell on the window-sill with such an unconscious glad endors.e.m.e.nt of what she said, that the lady was mute.

"And this makes you happy?" she said, at length.

"Sometimes it does," answered Matilda. "I think it ought always."

"But, my dear little creature, is there nothing else in all the world to make you feel happy?"

Matilda's words were not ready.

"I don't know," she said. "Sometimes I think there isn't. They're all away."

The last sentence was given with an unconscious forlornness of intonation which went to her friend's heart. She clasped Matilda close at that, and covered her with kisses.

"You won't feel so here?" she said.

But the child's answer was in pantomime. For she had clung to Mrs.

Laval as the lady had clasped her; and Matilda's head nestling in her neck and softly returning a kiss or two, gave a.s.surance enough.

"All away?" said Mrs. Laval. "Well, I think that too sometimes. You and I ought to belong to each other."

And then presently, as if she were shaking off all these serious reflections, she bade Matilda arrange her things comfortably in closet and drawers; and then when she liked, come down to her. So she went out, and the man with the little trunk came in and set it in a corner.

Matilda felt in dreamland. It was only like dreamland, to take out her things, which a few hours ago she had packed in the dismal precincts of her aunt's house, and place them in such delightful circ.u.mstances as her new quarters afforded. The drawers of her dressing-table were a marvel of beauty, being of a pale sea-green colour, with rosebuds painted in the corners. Her little bedstead was of the same colour and likewise adorned; and so the chairs, and a small stand which held a gla.s.s of flowers. The floor was covered with a pretty white mat, and light muslin curtains lined with rose, hung before the windows. The spread on her bed was a snow white Ma.r.s.eilles quilt, Matilda knew that; and the was.h.i.+ng closet was sumptuous in luxury, with its ample towels and its pretty cake of sweet fragrant soap. Every one of these things Matilda took note of, as she was obeying Mrs. Laval's advice to put her things in some order before she came down-stairs. And she was thinking, also, what 'opportunities' she could possibly have here. There would be nothing to try her patience or her temper; nothing disagreeable, in fact, except the thought of going away again. How could she ever bear _that?_ And then it occurred to Matilda that certainly she had opportunity and occasion to give thanks; and she knelt down and did it very heartily; concluding as she rose up, that she would leave the question of going away till it came nearer the time.

She went with a light heart downstairs then; how odd it was to be at home in that house, going up and down with her hat off! She pa.s.sed through one or two rooms, and found Mrs. Laval at last in a group of visitors, busy talking to half a dozen at once. Matilda stole out again, wondering at the different Mrs. Laval down-stairs from the one who had sat with her in her little room half an hour ago. On the verandah she met Norton. He greeted her eagerly, and drew her round the house to a shady angle where they sat down on two of the verandah chairs.

"Now what shall we do this afternoon?" said Norton. "What would you like?"

"I like everything. Oh, I like everything!" said Matilda.

"Yes, but _this_ is nothing," said Norton. "Shall we go take a long drive?"

"If Mrs. Laval goes--I should like it very much."

"If she don't go, we will," said Norton. "The roads are in good order, and the ponies want exercise. I don't believe mamma will go, for she is expecting a whole s.h.i.+pload of servants, and Francis will have to go to the station for them."

"Then he will want the horses, won't he?"

"Not the ponies. He will get somebody's great farm waggon, to bring up all their goods and things. You and I will go driving, Pink."

"Will _you_ drive?" asked Matilda.

"Certainly."

Matilda thought more than ever that she was in fairyland. She sat musing over her contentment, when Norton broke in again.

"You are very fond of that aunt of yours, aren't you?"

It was a point blank question. Matilda waited, and then softly said "No."

"Not?" said Norton. "That's funny. Hasn't she done everything in the world to make you love her?"

"Please, Norton," said Matilda, "I would rather not talk about her."

"Why not, Pink?" said Norton, showing his white teeth.

"I don't enjoy it."

"Don't you?" said Norton. "That's funny again. I should think you would."

"Why?" said Matilda, curiously.