Opportunities Part 39

"Where does Miss Redwood live?"

"Oh, she is Mr. Richmond's housekeeper."

"All right," said Norton. And then the gray ponies trotted merrily on, crossed a pretty bridge over a stream, and turned their faces westward.

By and by the houses of the village began scatteringly to appear; then the road grew into a well-built up street; the old cream-coloured church with its deep porch hove in sight; and the ponies turned just short of it and trotted up the lane to the parsonage door. Norton jumped down and tied the horses, and helped Matilda out of the carriage.

"Are you going in?" she asked. But it appeared that Norton was going in. So he pulled the iron knocker, and presently Miss Redwood came to the door.

"Yes, he's home," she said, almost before they could ask her; "but he ain't at home. I 'spect he'll take his meals now standin' or runnin'

for the next six weeks. That's the way he has to pay for rest, when he gets it, which ain't often neither. It tires me, just to see him go; I'll tell him you called."

"But mayn't we come in, Miss Redwood? just for a minute?"

"La, yes, child," said the housekeeper, making way for them; "come in, both on ye. I didn't s'pose you was wantin' me; I've got out o' the way of it since the minister's been away; my callers has fell off somehow.

It's odd, there don't one in twenty want to see me when I'm alone in the house, and could have time in fact to speak to 'em. That's the way things is in the world; there don't nothin' go together that's well matched, 'cept folks' horses; and they 're out o' my line. Come in, and tell me what you want to say. Where have ye come from?"

"I have been having a delightful ride, Miss Redwood, ever so far, farther than ever I went before."

"Down by Mr. James's place and the mill, and round by Hillside," Norton explained.

The housekeeper opened her pantry and brought out a loaf of rich gingerbread, yet warm from the oven, which she broke up and offered to the children.

"It's new times, I 'spect, ain't it?"

"It's new times to have such good gingerbread," said Norton. "This is prime."

"Have you ever made it since I showed ye?" Miss Redwood asked Matilda.

"No--only once--I hadn't time."

"When a child like you says she hain't time to play, somebody has got something that don't belong to him," said the housekeeper.

"O Miss Redwood, I wanted to know, what about Lilac Lane?"

"Well, what about it?"

"Did you do as you said you would? you know, last time I asked you, you hadn't got the things together."

"Yes, I know," said the housekeeper. "Well, I've fixed it."

"You did all as we said we would have it?" exclaimed Matilda, eagerly.

"As you said _you_ would have it. 'Twarn't much of it my doing, child.

Yes; Sally Eldridge don't know herself."

"Was she pleased?"

"Well, 'pleased' ain't to say much. I got Sabriny Rogers to clean the house first. They thought I was crazy, I do believe. '_Clean_ that 'ere old place?' says she. 'Why, yes,' says I; 'don't it want cleanin'?'

'But what on airth's the use?' says she. 'Well,' says I, 'I don't know; but we'll try.' So she went at it; and the first day she didn't do no more than to fling her file round, and you could see a spot where it had lighted; that's all. 'Sabriny,' says I, 'that ain't what we call cleanin' in _my_ country; and if I pay you for cleanin' it's all I'll do; but I'll not pay n.o.body for just lookin' at it.' So next time it was a little better; and then I made her go over the missed places, and we got it real nice by the time I had done. And then Sally looked like somethin' that didn't belong there, and we began upon _her_. She was wonderful taken up with seein' Sabriny and the scrubbin' brush go round; and then she begun to cast eyes down on herself, as if she wished it could reform her. Well, I did it all in one day. I had in the bedstead, and put it up, and had a comfortable bed fetched and laid on it; and I made it up with the new sheets. 'Who's goin' to sleep there?'

says Sally Eldridge, at last. 'You,' says I. '_Me?_' says she; and she cast one o' them doubtful looks down at herself; doubtful, and kind o'

pitiful; and I knew she'd make no objection to whatever I'd please to do with her, and she didn't. I got her into a tub o' water, and washed her and dressed her; and while I was doin' that, the folks in the other room had put in the table and the other things, and brought the flour and cheese, and that; and laid a little rag carpet on the floor, and when Sally was ready I marched her out. And she sat down and looked round her, and looked round her; and I watched to see what was comin'.

And then she begun to cry."

"To cry!" Matilda echoed.

"The tears come drop, drop, down on her new calico; it fitted nice and looked real smart; and then, the first word she said was, 'I ain't a good woman.' 'I know you ain't,' says I; 'but you kin be.' So she looked round and round her at everything; and then, the next word she said was, 'The dominie kin come now.' Well! I thought that was good enough for one day; so I give her her tea and come home to my own an ashamed woman."

"Why, Miss Redwood?"

"'Cause I hadn't done it ages ago, dear, but it was left for you to show me how."

"And is Mrs. Eldridge really better?"

"Has twice as much sense as ever she showed when she was in all that muss. I am sure, come to think of it, I don't wonder. Things outside works in, somehow. I believe, if I didn't keep my window panes clear, I should begin to grow deceitful--or melancholy. And folks can't have clean hands and a dirty house."

"Thank you, Miss Redwood," said Matilda, rising.

"Well, you ain't goin' now? The minister 'll be in directly."

"I'll come another time," said Matilda. "I'm afraid Mrs. Laval would be anxious."

"La, she don't mind when her horses come home, I'll engage."

"But she might mind when _we_ come home," said Matilda. "We have been out a great while."

"Out? why, you don't never mean _you_ come from Mrs. Laval's'?"

"Yes, she does," said Norton. "We've got her."

"Hm! Well, I just wish you'd keep her," said the housekeeper. "She's as poor as a peascod in a drouth."

At which similitude Norton laughed all the way home.

CHAPTER X.

It is impossible to tell how pleasant Matilda's room was to her that night. She had a beautiful white candle burning in a painted candlestick, and it shed light on the soft green furniture, and the mat, and the white quilt, and the pictures on the walls, till it all looked more fairylandish than ever; and Matilda could hardly believe her own senses that it was real. And when the candle was covered with its painted extinguisher, and the moonlight streamed in through the muslin curtains, it was lovelier yet. Matilda went to the window and gazed out. The fields and copses lay all crisp and bright in the cool moonbeams; and over beyond lay the blue mountains, in a misty indistinctness that was even more ensnaring than their midday beauty.

And no bell of Mrs. Candy's could sound in that fairy chamber to summon Matilda to what she didn't like. She was almost too happy; only there came the thought, how she would ever bear to go away again.

That thought came in the morning too. But pleasure soon swept it away out of sight. She had a charming hour with Mrs. Laval in the greenhouse; after which they went up to Matilda's room; and Mrs. Laval made some little examination into the state of that small wardrobe which had been packed up the day before, and now lay in the drawers of the green dressing-table. Following which, Mrs. Laval carried Matilda off into another room where a young woman sat sewing; and her she directed to take Matilda's measure, and fit her with a dress from a piece of white cambrick which lay on the table.

"It's getting pretty cool, ma'am, for this sort of thing," said the seamstress.

"Yes, but it will be wanted, and it is all I have got in the house just now. I will get something warmer to-day or to-morrow, or whenever I go out. And Belinda, you may make a little sacque to wear with this; there is enough of that red cashmere left for it. That will do."