What She Could

  CHAPTER II.

  The house in which these things happened was a brown house, standing onthe great high-road of travel which ran through the country, and justwhere a considerable village had clustered round it. From the upperwindows you caught a glimpse of a fine range of blue mountains, lyingmiles away, and with indeed a broad river flowing between; but theriver was too far off to be seen, and hidden behind intervening ground.From the lower windows you looked out into the village street; cleanand wide, with comfortable houses standing along the way, not crowdedtogether; and with gardens between and behind them, and many treesshielding and overhanging. The trees were bare now; the gardens aspread of snow; the street a white way for sleigh-runners;nevertheless, the aspect of the whole was hopeful, comfortable,thriving, even a little ambitious. Within this particular house, if youwent in, you would see comfort, but little pretension; a neat look ofthings, but such things as had been mended and saved, and would not berashly replaced. It was very respectable, therefore, and had no look ofpoverty. So of the family gathered around the breakfast-table on themorning after the Sunday-School meeting. It was a fair group, healthyand bright; the four girls and their mother. They were nicely dressed;and good appetites spoke of good spirits; and the provision on thetable was abundant though plain.

  Maria asked if Letty had finished her bonnet last night. Letty said shehad.

  "And did you put those red flowers in?"

  "Certainly."

  "That will be gay."

  "Not too gay. Just enough. The bonnet would be nothing if it had notflowers."

  Maria's spoon paused half way to mouth. "I wonder," she said, gravely,"if Mr. Richmond likes red flowers?"

  "He has nothing to do with _my_ bonnet," said Letitia. "And no morehave you. You need not raise the question. I shall wear what becomesme."

  "What is the difference whether one wears red or blue, Maria?" said hermother. "Do you think one colour is more religious than another?--ormore wicked? What do you mean?"

  "Nothing, ma'am," Maria answered, a little abashed. "I was onlythinking."

  "I think Mr. Richmond likes flowers everywhere," said Matilda; "and allcolours."

  "People that are very religious do not wear flowers in their bonnetsthough, do they?" said Maria.

  "Mr. Richmond did not say any such thing!" said Matilda, indignantly.

  "What did he say? What was all this last night's talk about?" saidAnne. "I did not understand half of it. Was it against red flowers, orred anything?"

  "I did not understand any of it," said Mrs. Englefield.

  "Why, mamma, I told you all, as plain as could be," said Maria. "I toldyou he made a Band----"

  "He didn't," interrupted Matilda; "the Band made themselves."

  But at this, the shout that went round the breakfast-table threatenedto endanger the dishes.

  "It's no use trying to talk," said Maria, sullenly, "if you laugh so. Itold you there was a Band; ever so many of us rose up and agreed thatwe would belong to it."

  "Matilda, are you in it too?" the mother asked.

  "No, mamma."

  "Why not? How comes that?"

  "She wasn't ready," her sister said.

  "Why not, Tilly?"

  "Mamma, I want to understand," said the child.

  "Quite right; so do I."

  "Wouldn't you do what Mr. Richmond says, whether you understand ornot?" inquired Maria, severely.

  "I would rather know what it is, first," said Matilda, in her way,which was a compound of cool and demure, but quite natural.

  "And when is the next meeting?" said Letitia. "I guess I'll go."

  "It won't be for a week," said Matilda.

  "And will you join the Band, Letty?" Maria asked somewhat eagerly.

  "How, join it?"

  "Why, rise up, when you are asked."

  "What does 'rising up' mean, Maria? What do you rise for?"

  "Why, it means just that you promise to be good, you know."

  "But I have heard you promise that a number of times, it seems to me;without 'rising up,' as you call it. Will the promise not better, ifyou make it on your feet instead of sitting?"

  "Now, mamma," said Maria, flushing, "isn't that just wicked in Letitia?"

  "My dear, I do not understand one word at present of what this is allabout," her mother answered.

  Perhaps Matilda was in the same mood, for she was a thoughtful littlechild all the way to school that morning. And at the close of theschool day, when the children were going home, she went slowly anddemurely along the icy street, while her sister and companions made amerry time. There had been a little thaw in the middle of the day, andnow it had turned cold again, and the sidewalks were a glare of ice.Matilda was afraid, and went cautiously; Maria and the others took theopportunity for a grand slide, and ran and slipped and slid and sailedaway homewards, like mad things. One after another, they passed her andrushed along, till Matilda was left the last, slowly shuffling herlittle feet over the track the feet of the others had made doublyslippery; when quick steps came up behind her, and a pleasant voicespoke--

  "Are you afraid you are going to tumble down?"

  Matilda started, but lifted her eyes very contentedly then to the faceof the speaker. They had a good way to go, for he was a tall young man.But he was looking down towards her with a bright face, and two good,clear blue eyes, and a smile; and his hand presently clasped hers.Matilda had no objection.

  "Where is everybody else? how come you to be all alone?"

  "They have gone ahead, sliding on the ice."

  "And you do not practise sliding?"

  "I am always afraid I shall fall down."

  "The best way is not to be afraid; and then you don't fall down. See;no! hold fast. I shall not let you slip!"

  And the gentleman and Matilda slid along the street for half a block.

  "How do you like that?"

  "Very well, Mr. Richmond, with you holding me."

  "It doesn't give you courage, eh? Well, we will walk on soberlytogether. I didn't see you stand when Maria did last night?"

  "Mr. Richmond, I did not know just what it all meant; and so I satstill."

  "You did not know just what it all meant?"

  "No, sir."

  "Then you were perfectly right to sit still. But that means that I didnot speak so that you could understand me? Was it so?"

  "I did not understand----" said Matilda.

  "It comes to that, I suppose. It is my fault. Well, I shall rememberand be very careful what I say the next time. I will speak so that youwill understand. But in that case, I want you to do one thing for me,Tilly; will you?"

  "If I can, Mr. Richmond."

  "Do you think I would ask something you could not do?"

  Matilda looked up to the blue eyes again; they were fastened upon hergravely, and she hesitated.

  "Mr. Richmond--I don't know. You might."

  "I hope not," he said, smiling. "I will try not. You won't promise me?"

  "If I can I will, Mr. Richmond."

  "I am only going to ask you, when you hear what I have to say nexttime, if you understand it, will you do what you think you ought to do?"

  There fell a silence upon that. Mr. Richmond's firm step on the icyground and Matilda's light footfall passed by house after house, andstill the little one's tongue seemed to be tied. They turned thecorner, and went their way along Matilda's own street, where the lightof afternoon was now fading, and the western sky was throwing areflection of its own. Past the butcher's shop, and the post-office,and house after house; and still Matilda was silent, and her conductordid not speak, until they stopped before the little gate leading to thehouse, which was placed somewhat back from the road. At the gate Mr.Richmond stood still.

  "What about my question, Matilda?" he said, without loosing his hold ofthe little hand which had rested so willingly in his all the way.

  "Aren't you coming in, Mr. Richmond?"

  "Not to-night. What about my question?"

  "Mr. Rich
mond," said the child, slowly,--"I do not always do the thingsI ought to do."

  "No; I know you do not. But will you do _that_ thing, which you willthink you ought to do, when you have heard me, and understood what Isay, the next time the Band has a meeting?"

  Matilda stood silent, her hand still in Mr. Richmond's.

  "What's the matter?"

  "Perhaps I shall not want to do it," she said, looking up frankly.

  "I ask you to do it all the same."

  Matilda did not move, and now her face showed great perplexity.

  "Well?" said Mr. Richmond, smiling at last.

  "Perhaps I _cannot_ do it, Mr. Richmond?"

  "Then, if you think you cannot do it, will you come and tell me?"

  Matilda hesitated and pondered and hesitated.

  "Do you wish it very much, Mr. Richmond?" she said, looking upappealingly into his face.

  "I do wish it very much."

  "Then I will!" said Matilda, with a sigh.

  He nodded, shook her hand, and turned away with quick steps. Matildawent in and climbed the stairs to the room she and Maria sharedtogether.

  "What were you talking to Mr. Richmond so long about?" said Maria.

  "I wasn't talking to Mr. Richmond. He was talking to me."

  "What's the difference? But I wish he would talk to Ailie Swan; shewants it, I know. That girl is too much!"

  "What has she done?"

  "Oh, _you_ don't know; she isn't in your set. _I_ know. She's justdisagreeable. I think people ought to be civil, if they are ever sogood."

  "I thought good people were civil always."

  "Shows you don't know much."

  "Isn't Ailie Swan civil?"

  "I do not call it civility. What do you think, Tilly? I asked her if mySouth America wasn't good? and she said she thought it was not. Isn'tthat civility?"

  "What did you ask her for?"

  "Because! I knew my South America was good."

  "Let me see it."

  "Nonsense! You do not know the first thing about it." But she gave herlittle sister the sheet on which the map was drawn. Matilda took it toa table under the window, where the dying light from the western skyfell brightest; and putting both elbows on the table and her head inher hands, studied the map.

  "Where is the atlas?"

  "What do you want of the atlas?"

  "I want to see if it is like."

  "It is like, of course, child."

  "I can't tell without seeing," Matilda persisted. And Maria grumblinglybrought the atlas, open at the map in question. Matilda took it andstudied anew.

  "It is getting dark," said she at length. "But your South America iscrooked, Maria."

  "It isn't!" said Maria, vehemently. "How should it be crooked, when weangle it on, just according to the rules?"

  "Angle it on?" repeated Matilda, looking at her sister.

  "Yes. Oh, you don't understand, child; how should you? I told you youdidn't know anything about it. Of course, we have rules and things togo by; and my South America was put on just right."

  "It is not straight, though," said Matilda.

  "Why, no, it isn't straight; it is not meant to be straight; it is allcrookly crawly, going in and out, all round."

  "But it don't stand straight," said Matilda; "and it looks _thin_, too,Maria; it don't puff out as much as the real South America does."

  "Puff out!" Maria repeated. "It's as good as Ailie's, anyhow; and agreat deal better than Frances Barth's. Frances got a great blot onhers; she's so careless. George Van Dyke is making a nice one; and BenBarth is doing a splendid map; but then Ben does everything----"

  Here there was a great call to tea from below, and the girls went down.Down-stairs there was excitement. A letter had come from Mrs. Candy,Mrs. Englefield's sister, saying that she herself with her daughterClarissa would be with them the beginning of the week. .

  "To stay, mamma? O mamma, is Aunt Candy coming to stay? Do tell me. Isshe coming to stay?" Maria exclaimed and questioned.

  "She will stay a night with us, Maria. Don't be so eager."

  "Only a night, mamma? Won't she be here longer?"

  "She is coming to stay till summer, Maria," said her eldest sister. "Dobe reasonable."

  "I think it is reasonable to want to know," said Maria. "_You_ knew; soyou didn't care about it."

  "I care a great deal; what do you mean?" said Anne.

  "I mean you didn't care about knowing. O mamma, can't I have my dressfinished before they come?"

  "What dress, Maria?" her sister went on; for Mrs. Englefield was busywith the letter.

  "My new merino. It is almost done; it only wants finishing."

  "There's all the braid to put on, isn't there?"

  "Well, that isn't much. Mamma, cannot I have my red merino finishedbefore they come? I have got nothing to wear."

  "What can you mean, Maria? You have everything you want. That is onlyfor your best dress."

  "But, mamma, it is just when I should want it, when they come; you'llbe having everybody to tea. Won't you have it done for me? please,mamma?"

  "I think you can do it for yourself, Maria. I have no objection to yourfinishing it."

  "I cannot put on that braid--in that quirlicue pattern, mamma; I neverdid such work as that; and I haven't time, besides."

  "Nor inclination," said Letitia, laughing. "Come, Maria, it is time youlearned to do something for yourself. Matilda, now, might pleadinexperience, and have some reason; but you are quite old enough."

  The dispute would have gone on, but Mrs. Englefield desired silence,and the family drew round the tea-table. Other plans for the followingweeks filled every tongue. Mrs. Candy was well off; a widow with onechild, her daughter Clarissa; she had been in Europe for several years;coming back now to her own country, she was bending her steps first ofall to her sister's house and family.

  "We shall have the new fashions, straight from Paris," Anne remarked.

  "Has Aunt Candy been in Paris? I thought she was in Scotland, mamma?"

  "People may go to Paris, if they have been in Scotland, Maria. It isnot so far as around the world."

  "But has she been in Paris?"

  "Lately."

  "Mamma, what is Aunt Candy going to do with herself when summer comes?She says, 'till summer.'"

  "When she tells us, I shall know, Letty. At present I am as ignorant asyou."

  "Do you think she will buy a house here, and make her home here?"

  "That depends on how well she likes Shadywalk, I imagine."

  "I hope she will!"

  "I would like to see, first, what she is," said Maria. "We shall havetime enough for that, if they stay with us till summer. How old, mamma,is Clarissa Candy?"

  "Over your age, Maria, by a year or so."

  "Will she go to school with us, do you suppose, mamma?"

  "I really cannot tell, Maria. I think it very likely."

  "Is Aunt Candy very rich?"

  "You talk like a foolish girl. Why do you want to know?"

  "I was thinking whether Clarissa would be dressed a great deal betterthan we are."

  "And what if she is?"

  "Nothing. I was thinking. That's all."

  "I don't think it signifies," said Matilda.

  "Oh! Matilda has found her tongue! I was waiting to see when she wouldspeak," cried Anne. "What don't signify, little one?"

  "It don't signify, I think, whether any one is dressed better thananother; anybody--Clarissa or anybody else."

  "Well, you are mistaken then," said Anne; "for it does signify. All theworld knows it; and what is more, all the world feels it."

  "I don't think I do," said Matilda.

  "Your time has not come."

  "_Your_ time had come, though, before you were as old as she," said hermother; "and Maria's and Letty's."

  "I know Matilda is a wonderful child," said Anne, "but her time willcome too, mamma; and _she_ will find it makes a difference whether sheis dressed one way or another."

&nb
sp; "I think _that_ now," observed Matilda.

  "Anybody that has to fasten Tilly's dresses knows that," laughed Maria."I don't make half so much fuss."

  "I wish you did," said her mother. "You are not near careful enough inputting on your things. Now putting on is half the battle."

  The argument lasted till Tilly and Maria went back to the considerationof South America, which was brought down-stairs to the lamp.

  "You haven't got the Amazon right," said Matilda; "and Rio Janeiro istoo far down; and it's all crooked--don't you see?"

  "No!" said Maria; "and if it is, Ailie Swan needn't have said hers wasbetter."

  "You asked her."

  "Well, if I did?"

  "What could she say?"

  "I don't care; it was awfully rude; and people ought to be polite, ifthey're ever so good."

  "What is all that?" said Mrs. Englefield. "That is not Tilly's map?"

  "Oh no, mamma; she can't draw maps; she is only setting up for a judge."

  "She would do it as well as that, if she would try," said her mother."I wish you would love your studies, Matilda. You could do so well ifyou pleased."

  "Clarissa Candy will make you both ashamed," said Anne. "She haslearned everything, and is terribly smart; 'going on to learneverything else,' her mother says."

  "Mamma," said Maria, "I have only my green silk and my blue delaine fornice dresses; and the silk is old-fashioned, you know, and the delaineis too short; and I want my merino finished."

  "Finish it, then."

  Maria pouted.

  "I cannot afford every indulgence to you, as your aunt can to Clarissa;you must make it up by your own industry."

  "But can I, mamma?"

  "Can you what?"

  "If I am very smart, can you give me things, if I make them up, that Ican be as well dressed as Clarissa Candy?"

  "Let us see the merino made first," said her mother.