What She Could Part 41

"What?"

"Oh, one's life, you know."

"But ten years is not a life," said Norton.

"It is, if one hasn't lived any longer."

"I would like my life to be history to other people," said Norton.

"Something worth while."

"I wouldn't like other people to know my life, though," said Matilda.

"Then could not help it, if it was something worth while," said Norton.

"Why, yes, Norton; one's life is what one thinks and feels; what n.o.body knows. Not the things that everybody knows."

"It is what one _does_," said Norton; "and if you do anything worth while, people will know it. I wonder what there will be to tell of you and me fifty years from now?"

"Fifty years! Why, then I should be sixty-one," said Matilda; "and you would be a good deal more than that. But perhaps we shall not live to be so old."

"Yes, we shall," said Norton. "_I_ shall; and you must, too."

"Why, Norton, we can't _make_ ourselves live," said Matilda, in great astonishment at this language.

"We shall live to be old, though," said Norton. "I know it. And I wish there may be something to be said of _me_. I don't think women ought to be talked of."

"I do not see what good it would do anybody to be talked of, after he has gone away out of the world," said Matilda. "Except to be talked of in heaven. That would be good."

"In heaven!" said Norton. "Talked of in heaven! Where did you get that?"

"I don't mean that exactly," said Matilda. "But some people will."

"Who?"

"Why, a great many people, Norton. Abraham and Noah, and David, and Daniel, and the woman that put all she had into the Lord's treasury, and the woman that anointed the head of Jesus--the woman who, He said, had done what she could. I would like to have _that_ said of me, if it was Jesus that said it."

Norton took hold of Matilda and gave her a little good-humoured shake.

"Stop that!" he said; "and tell me, is that why you are carrying a Bible out here in the streets?"

"Oh, I haven't any use for it here, Norton."

"Then what have you got it here for?"

"Norton, there are some people in the village who are sick, or cannot read; and I was going to read to them."

"Where are they?"

"In Lilac Lane."

"Where is that?"

"You go up past the corner a good way, and just by Mr. Barth's foundry you turn down a few steps, and turn again at the baker's. Then, a little way further on, you strike into the lane."

"That's it, is it? I know. But do you know what sort of people live up that way?"

"Yes."

"Well, there's another thing you _don't_ know, and that's the mud.

You'd never have got out again, if you had gone to Lilac Lane to-day.

It is three feet deep; and it weighs twenty pounds a foot. After you set your shoe in it, you want a windla.s.s to get it out again."

"What is a windla.s.s?" Matilda asked.

"Don't you know? Well, you _are_ a girl; but you are a brick. I'll teach you about a windla.s.s, and lots of things."

"I shouldn't think you would want to teach me, _because_ I am a girl,"

said Matilda.

They had reached the iron gate of Mrs. Laval's domain, walking fast as they had talked; and in answer to Matilda's last remark, Norton opened the gate for her, and took off his cap with an air as he held it for her to pa.s.s in. Matilda looked, smiled, and stepped past him.

"You are not like any boy I ever saw," she remarked, when he had recovered his cap and his place beside her.

"I hope you like me better than any one you ever saw?"

"Yes," said Matilda, "I do."

The boy's answer was to do what most boys are too shy or too proud for.

He put his arms round Matilda and gave her a hearty kiss. Matilda was greatly surprised, and bridled a little, as if she thought Norton had taken a liberty; but on the whole seemed to recognise the fact that they were very good friends, and took this as a seal of it. Norton led her into the house, got his croquet box, and brought her and it out again to the little lawn before the door. n.o.body else was visible. The day was still, dry, and sunny, and though the gra.s.s was hardly green yet and not shaven nor rolled nor anything that a croquet lawn ought to be, still it would do, as Norton said, to look at. Matilda stood by and listened intently, while he planted his hoops and showed his mallets, and explained to her the initial mysteries of the game. They even tried how it would go; and there was no doubt of one thing, the time went almost as fast as the croquet b.a.l.l.s.

"I must run home, Norton," Matilda said at last.

"Why? I don't think so."

"I know I must."

"Well, do you like it?" He meant the game.

"Oh, it's delightful!" was Matilda's honest exclamation. Norton pushed back his cap and looked at her, pleased on his part. It came into Matilda's head that she ought to tell him something. Their two faces had grown to be so friendly to each other.

"Norton," she said, gravely, "I want you to know something about me."

"Yes," said Norton. "I want to know it."

"You don't know what it is."

"That's the very thing. I _want_ to know it."

"Norton, did you ever see anybody baptized?"