Opportunities Part 49

Richmond.

"No. I heard she was at your house."

"But not until she had been in the house with the fever patients, and nursing them, before any one knew what was the matter. Had she not better stay where she is, at least until we can be certain that she has got no harm?"

"Well, perhaps," said Mrs. Candy, looking confused; "it is very perplexing; I cannot expose my daughter----"

"She will stay where she is," said Mr. Richmond, "for the present. Good morning."

He never told Matilda of this encounter. And before another week had gone, Mrs. Candy and Clarissa had again left Shadywalk.

So week after week went by peacefully. The beautiful days of October were all past; November winds came, and the trees were bare, and the frosts at night began to be severe. The sick people were getting better, and terrible qualms of fear and sorrow now and then swept over Matilda's heart. Her aunt would surely want her back now, and she should never finish her visit at Mrs. Laval's!

One day she was in Mr. Richmond's study, all alone, thinking so. There was a flurry of snow in the air, the first snow of the season, falling thickly on the gra.s.s, and eddying in windy circles through the pine trees. Matilda had knelt in a chair at the window to watch it, with that spasm of fear at her heart. Now it is winter! she thought. Aunt Candy _must_ be home soon. Yet the whirling great flakes of snow were so lovely, that in a few minutes they half distracted her from her fear.

It came back again when she saw Mr. Richmond appear from the end of the church porch and make his way across the snow towards the parsonage door. Matilda watched him lovingly; then was possessed with a sudden notion that he was bringing her news. He walks as if he had something to say, she said to herself; and he will come in and say it.

He came in and warmed his hands at the fire, without sitting down; certainly there _was_ an air of business about him, as she had thought.

Matilda stood watching and waiting; that fear at her heart.

"Where's Norton?" said Mr. Richmond.

"He went out a good while ago. I don't know, sir."

"I suppose you have expected to hear of your aunt's coming home, before now, Matilda?"

"Yes, sir," said the child. He watched her furtively. No curiosity, no question; her face settled rather into a non-expectant state, as if all were fixed for her for ever--a look Mr. Richmond did not like to see.

"She has come home."

He saw the colour flit on Matilda's cheek; her mouth had quitted its lines of peace and gaiety and become firm; she said nothing.

"You are not glad to hear of it, Matilda."

"No, sir."

"It is no pleasure to tell you of it; but it is necessary. How do you feel towards her now?"

"Mr. Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I think I don't hate her any more."

"But you would like to be excused from living with her?"

Matilda did not reply; no answer was necessary to so self-evident a proposition; the child seemed to be gathering her forces, somehow, mentally.

"Take courage," said her friend. "I have concluded that you never shall live with her any more. That is at an end."

He saw the lightning flash of delight come into Matilda's eyes; a streak of red showed itself on her cheek; but she was breathless, waiting for more words to make her understand how this could be, or that she had heard right.

"It's true," said Mr. Richmond.

"But--how then?" said Matilda.

"Mrs. Laval wants you."

"Wants me?" Matilda repeated, anxiously.

"She wants you, to keep you for her own child. She lost a little daughter once. She wants you to be in that little daughter's place, and to live with her always."

"But, aunt Candy will not," said Matilda, "she will not----"

"Your aunt Candy has consented. I have arranged that. It is safely done, Matilda. You are to live with Mrs. Laval, and be her child from henceforth."

Matilda still looked at Mr. Richmond for a minute or two, as if there must be words to follow that would undo the wonderful tale of these; but seeing that Mr. Richmond only smiled, there came a great change over the child's face. The fixedness broke up. Yet she did not smile; she seemed for the instant to grow grave and old; and clasping her little hands, she turned away from Mr. Richmond and walked the breadth of the room and back. Then she stood still again beside the table, sober and pale. She looked at Mr. Richmond, waiting to hear more.

"It is all true," said her friend.

"Is it for _always?_" Matilda asked, in a low voice.

"Yes. Even so. Mrs. Laval was very earnest in wis.h.i.+ng it. I judged you would not be unwilling, Matilda."

The child said nothing, but the streak of colour began again to come into her cheeks.

"You are now to be Mrs. Laval's child. She adopts you for her own. In all respects, except that of memory, you are to be as if you had been born hers."

"Does Norton know?"

"I have not spoken to him. I really cannot tell."

Again silence fell. Matilda stood with her eyes downcast, the colour deepening in each cheek. Mr. Richmond watched her.

"Have I done right?" he asked.

"You, sir?" said Matilda, looking up.

"Yes. Have I done right? I have made no mistake for your happiness?"

"Did _you_ do it, sir?"

"Yes, in one way. Mrs. Laval wished it; I arranged it. You know your mother left me the power. Have I done right?"

"Mr. Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I am afraid to think."

Her friend smiled again, and waited till the power of speech should come back.

"Was aunt Candy willing?" she said then.

"No, I do not think she was willing. I think the plan was not agreeable to her. But she gave her consent to it. The reasons in favour of the plan were so strong that she could not help that."

Matilda privately wondered that any reasons could have had so much weight; and rather fancied that Mr. Richmond had been the strongest reason of them all.