Opportunities Part 41

"You gave me the money for it, ma'am," said Matilda.

"It was yours after I had given it," said the lady. "I wonder how much good _really_ now, all that will amount to? or whether it is just a flash in the pan? That is the question that always comes to me."

Matilda looked up from the chess men, wondering what she could mean.

"It is a real good to have the house cleaned; you would never doubt that, mamma, if you had seen it," Norton remarked.

"And it is a real good that the poor woman is ready to have Mr.

Richmond come to see her now," said Matilda.

"Mr. Richmond," repeated Mrs. Laval. "That's your minister. You think a great deal of Mr. Richmond, don't you, Matilda?"

"Everybody does," said Matilda. Mrs. Laval smiled.

"I don't know him, you know. But about your doings in the lane--there is no end to that sort of work. You might keep on for ever, and be no nearer the end. That is what always discourages me. There are always new old women to comfort, and fresh poor people to help. There is no end."

"But then," said Matilda. She began timidly, and stopped.

"What then?" said Mrs. Laval, smiling.

"Yes, just hear Pink, mamma," said Norton.

"What then, Matilda?" said Mrs. Laval, still looking at her as at something pleasant to the eyes.

"I was going to say," Matilda began again, with a blush, "isn't it meant that we _should_ 'keep on for ever'?"

"Doing good to the poor? But then one would soon have nothing to do good with. One must stop somewhere."

Clearly, one must stop somewhere. A line must be found; inside or outside of her bed of hyacinths, Matilda wondered? She did not press her doubts, though she did not forget them; and the talk pa.s.sed on to other things. Nothing could be more delightful than that evening, she thought.

The next day there was charming work to be done. Norton was to take her by the early train the morning after to go to Poughkeepsie; and Matilda was to prepare to-day a basket of fruit, and get ready some little presents to take to her sister. The day was swallowed up in these delights; and the next day, the day of the journey, was one long dream of pleasure. The ride to the station, the hour in the cars, or less than an hour; but the variety of new sights and sensations made it seem long; the view of a new place; the joyful visit to Maria, and the uncommonly jolly dinner the three had together at a good restaurant, made a time of unequalled delight. Only Maria looked gloomy, Matilda thought; even a little discomposed at so much pleasure coming to her little sister and missing _her_. And in this feeling, Matilda feared, Maria lost half the good of the play-day that had come to her. However, nothing could spoil it for the other two; and Matilda came home in the cars towards nightfall again with a heart full of content. Only a pang darted through her, as they were driving home under the stars, at the thought how many days of her fortnight were already gone. Matilda did not know it was to be a month.

They found Mrs. Laval in perplexity.

"I wish, Norton," she said, "that you would go and bring the doctor here immediately. The two women are ailing now, and the men are quite ill. I don't know what to do. York is gone to town, you know, to look after the interest on his bonds; and Francis demanded permission this afternoon to go and see his father who is dying. I have no one to send for anything. I could not keep Francis, and I do not believe he would have been kept."

"Who's to look after the horses, mamma?"

"I don't know. You must find some one, for a day or so. You must do that too, to-night."

Norton went and came back, and the evening pa.s.sed as gayly as ever; York's absence being made up by the services of the children, which, Mrs. Laval said, were much better. Matilda made toast at the fire, and poured out tea; and Norton managed the tea-kettle and b.u.t.tered the toast, and fetched and carried generally; and they had a merry time.

But the next morning showed a change in the social atmosphere.

Matilda came down-stairs, as she always did, the earliest of the family. In the hall she encountered the housemaid, not broom in hand as usual, but with her bonnet and shawl on.

"I'm going out this way, Miss, ye see, becaase it's shorter," she said with a certain smothered mystery of tone.

"What is shorter? and where are you going, Jane?" Matilda asked, struck by something in the girl's air.

"Och, it's no lady wouldn't expict one to stop, whin it's _that's_ the matter."

"When what is the matter? what do you mean? Are you going away?"

"Faith, it's glad I be, to be off; and none too soon. I'd show 'em the back of me head, you, dear, if it was me, goin' out at the front door.

The likes o' you isn't obleeged to stop no more nor meself." This advice was given in the same mysterious undertone, and puzzled Matilda exceedingly.

"But, Jane," she said, catching the woman's shawl as she would have left her, "you know York is away; and there is n.o.body to do things.

Mrs. Laval will want you."

"She's welcome to want me," said the girl. "I didn't engage fur to serve in an hospital, and I won't do it. Me life is as good to me, sure, as her own, or anybody's."

"But what shall I tell Mrs. Laval? Aren't you coming back?"

"Niver a bit, till the sickness is gone." And with that the girl would not be kept, but got away.

Matilda stood bewildered. Yes, she saw the broom and duster had been nowhere that morning. Everything was left. It was early yet. The sunbeams came slant and cool upon the white frost outside, as Jane opened the door; and so when the door was shut they stole in upon the undusted hall and rooms. Matilda softly made her way to the kitchen stairs and went down, fearing lest there might be more defaulters in the house hold. To her relief, she found the cook moving about preparing for some distant breakfast. But breakfast was never an early meal.

"Good morning, Mrs. Mattison," said the child. "I came down to see if there was anybody here. I met Jane just now, going out."

"I'm here yet," said Mattison. "I'll get your breakfast, before I'm off."

"Are you going too?"

"Take my advice, and don't _you_ stop," said the woman. "You ain't a fixture so you can't get away. I'd go, fust thing, if I was you."

"Why?" said Matilda; "and what for are you all going like this? It is using Mrs. Laval very badly, I think."

"Folks must take care of their own flesh and blood," said the woman.

"Wages don't pay for life, do they? I'm off as soon as I've got the breakfast. I'll do that, and give Mrs. Laval that much chance. She ain't a bad woman."

"Is the laundry-maid going too?"

"O' course. She had her warning, weeks ago, and so had I mine. Mrs.

Laval sent for them furriners to fill her house with them; and now she must make the best of 'em she can. It ain't my fault if they're no use to her."

Matilda went up-stairs again, pondering what was to be done. She went softly up to Norton's door and knocked. It was not easy to rouse him; nothing stirred; and Matilda was afraid of awaking his mother, whose door was not far off. At last she opened Norton's door a bit and called to him.

"What is it?" cried Norton, as soon as the noise found a way to his brain. "Is it you, Pink? Hold on,--I'll be there in less than no time!

What's to pay?"

Matilda waited, till in another minute Norton presented himself, half dressed, and with his hair all s.h.a.ggy, outside his door.

"O Norton, can you be dressed very quickly?"

"Yes. What's the matter? I am going down to see to the horses. What do you want, Pink?"

"O Norton--speak softly!--everybody's going away; and I thought, maybe you would come down and help me get things in order."