said Matilda to herself. "I do not see
why. She is not mother; and if mother is sick, that does not give
everybody else a right to say what I shall do. I think it is very queer
of Aunt Candy to take that way with me."

And I am afraid Matilda's head was carried a little with the air which
was, to be sure, natural to her, and not unpretty, and yet which spoke
of a good deal of conscious competency. It is no more than justice to
Matilda to say that she did not ever put the feeling into any
ill-mannerly form. It hardly appeared at all, except in this turn of
her head, which all her own family knew, laughed at, admired, and even
loved. So she went down-stairs to the parlour.

"How is Aunt Marianne?" was the question from Clarissa. "Letty told me
where you were. But, little one, it is not good for you to go into your
mother's sick-room; you can do nothing, and you are better out. So
mamma wishes you not to go in there till Aunt Marianne is better--you
understand?"

"Clarissa too!" thought Matilda to herself. But she made no answer. She
came by the fire to warm herself; for her mother's room had been cold.

"You shouldn't go so near the fire; you'll burn your dress," Clarissa
remarked.

"No," said Matilda; and she said but that one word.

"You will take the colour out, if you do not set it on fire; and that
is what I meant. That is your best dress, Tilly."

It was true; and, sorely against her will, Matilda stepped a little
back.

"You were a great while at Sunday-School to-day," Clarissa went on.

"No," said Matilda; "not longer than usual."

"What do you learn there?"

"Why, cousin Issa, what do you teach at _your_ Sunday-School?" said
Matilda. For Clarissa had sheered off from Mr. Richmond's church, and
gone into a neighbouring one which belonged to the denomination in
which she had been brought up.

"That is not good manners to answer one question with another, little
one."

"I thought one answer might serve for both," said Matilda.

"I am afraid it would not. For in my Sunday-School I teach the
Catechism."

"Don't the Catechism tell about Jesus?"

"Some things,--of course."

"Our lessons tell all things about Him," said Matilda; "and that is
what I learn."

"Do you learn about yourself?"

"What about myself?"

"How you ought to behave, and how you ought not to behave."

"Why, I think learning about Jesus teaches one _that_," said Matilda.

"I think there is nothing so good as coming home to