eddying in windy circles through the pine
trees. Matilda had knelt in a chair at the window to watch it, with
that spasm of fear at her heart. Now it is winter! she thought. Aunt
Candy _must_ be home soon. Yet the whirling great flakes of snow were
so lovely, that in a few minutes they half distracted her from her fear.

It came back again when she saw Mr. Richmond appear from the end of the
church porch and make his way across the snow towards the parsonage
door. Matilda watched him lovingly; then was possessed with a sudden
notion that he was bringing her news. He walks as if he had something
to say, she said to herself; and he will come in and say it.

He came in and warmed his hands at the fire, without sitting down;
certainly there _was_ an air of business about him, as she had thought.
Matilda stood watching and waiting; that fear at her heart.

"Where's Norton?" said Mr. Richmond.

"He went out a good while ago. I don't know, sir."

"I suppose you have expected to hear of your aunt's coming home, before
now, Matilda?"

"Yes, sir," said the child. He watched her furtively. No curiosity, no
question; her face settled rather into a non-expectant state, as if all
were fixed for her for ever--a look Mr. Richmond did not like to see.

"She has come home."

He saw the colour flit on Matilda's cheek; her mouth had quitted its
lines of peace and gaiety and become firm; she said nothing.

"You are not glad to hear of it, Matilda."

"No, sir."

"It is no pleasure to tell you of it; but it is necessary. How do you
feel towards her now?"

"Mr. Richmond," said the child, slowly, "I think I don't hate her any
more."

"But you would like to be excused from living with her?"

Matilda did not reply; no answer was necessary to so self-evident a
proposition; the child seemed to be gathering her forces, somehow,
mentally.

"Take courage," said her friend. "I have concluded that you never shall
live with her any more. That is at an end."

He saw the lightning flash of delight come into Matilda's eyes; a
streak of red showed itself on her cheek; but she was breathless,
waiting for more words to make her understand how this could be, or
that she had heard right.

"It's true," said Mr. Richmond.

"But--how then?" said Matilda.

"Mrs. Laval wants you."

"Wants me?" Matilda repeated, anxiously.

"She wants you, to keep you for her own child. She lost a little
daughter once. She wants you to be in that little dau