se to
do with her, and she didn't. I got her into a tub o' water, and washed
her and dressed her; and while I was doin' that, the folks in the other
room had put in the table and the other things, and brought the flour
and cheese, and that; and laid a little rag carpet on the floor, and
when Sally was ready I marched her out. And she sat down and looked
round her, and looked round her; and I watched to see what was comin'.
And then she begun to cry."

"To cry!" Matilda echoed.

"The tears come drop, drop, down on her new calico; it fitted nice and
looked real smart; and then, the first word she said was, 'I ain't a
good woman.' 'I know you ain't,' says I; 'but you kin be.' So she
looked round and round her at everything; and then, the next word she
said was, 'The dominie kin come now.' Well! I thought that was good
enough for one day; so I give her her tea and come home to my own an
ashamed woman."

"Why, Miss Redwood?"

"'Cause I hadn't done it ages ago, dear, but it was left for you to
show me how."

"And is Mrs. Eldridge really better?"

"Has twice as much sense as ever she showed when she was in all that
muss. I am sure, come to think of it, I don't wonder. Things outside
works in, somehow. I believe, if I didn't keep my window panes clear, I
should begin to grow deceitful--or melancholy. And folks can't have
clean hands and a dirty house."

"Thank you, Miss Redwood," said Matilda, rising.

"Well, you ain't goin' now? The minister 'll be in directly."

"I'll come another time," said Matilda. "I'm afraid Mrs. Laval would be
anxious."

"La, she don't mind when her horses come home, I'll engage."

"But she might mind when _we_ come home," said Matilda. "We have been
out a great while."

"Out? why, you don't never mean _you_ come from Mrs. Laval's'?"

"Yes, she does," said Norton. "We've got her."

"Hm! Well, I just wish you'd keep her," said the housekeeper. "She's as
poor as a peascod in a drouth."

At which similitude Norton laughed all the way home.

CHAPTER X.

It is impossible to tell how pleasant Matilda's room was to her that
night. She had a beautiful white candle burning in a painted
candlestick, and it shed light on the soft green furniture, and the
mat, and the white quilt, and the pictures on the walls, till it all
looked more fairylandish than ever; and Matilda could hardly believe
her own senses that it was real. And when the candle was covered with
its painted extinguisher