vise you to take care!" she said, threateningly.

But Matilda could not imagine what new cause of offence she had given.
It was very hard to read aloud. She made two or three efforts to get
voice, and then went stiffly on.

"You are not reading well," her aunt broke in. "You are not thinking of
what you are reading."

Matilda was silent.

"Why do you not speak? I say you do not read well. Why don't you attend
to your book?"

"I never understand this book," said Matilda.

"Of course not, if you do not attend. Go on!"

"She can't read, mamma," whispered Clarissa.

"She shall read," Mrs. Candy returned, in an answering whisper.

And recognising that necessity, Matilda put a force on herself and read
on, at the imminent peril of choking every now and then, as one thought
and another came up to grasp her. She put it by or put it down, and
went on; obliged herself to go on; wouldn't think, till the weary pages
were come to an end at last, and the hoarse voice had leave to be
still, and she took up her darning. Thoughts would have overcome her
self-control then, in all nature; but that, happily for Matilda's
dignity as she wished to maintain it, Mrs. Candy was pleased to
interrupt the darning of stockings to give Matilda a lesson in patching
linen--an entirely new thing to the child, requiring her best attention
and care; for Mrs. Candy insisted upon the patch being straight to a
thread, and even as a double web would have been. Matilda had to baste
and take out again, baste and take out again; she had enough to do
without going back upon her own grievances; it was extremely difficult
to make a large patch of linen lie straight on all sides and not pucker
itself or the cloth somewhere. Matilda pulled out her basting threads
the third time, with a sigh.

"You will do it, when you come to taking pains enough," said Mrs. Candy.

Now Matilda knew that she was taking the utmost pains possible. She
said nothing, but her hands grew more unsteady.

"Mamma, may I help her?" said Clarissa.

"No. She can do it if she tries," said Mrs. Candy.

Matilda queried within herself how it would do to throw up the work,
and declare open rebellion; how would the fight go? She was conscious
that to provoke a fight would be wrong; but passion just now had got
the upper hand of wisdom in the child. She concluded, however, that it
would not do; Mrs. Candy could hold out better than she could; but the
last atom of goodwill was gone out