it gleamed upon the little river too and upon the
blades of grass on the lawn. Out there the sunshine was full; the eye
went across to the scattered trees and to the further woods on the
other side; a great promising playground it looked. And then the air
was so sweet and fresh. Matilda was not seated very well for her
pleasure; nobody near that she knew very well; nevertheless she eat her
strawberries and cream and devoured rolls and butter with a contented
appreciation of what she had, and an amused observation of what was
around her.

How were they to spend the day?

This question received earnest attention as soon as the business of
breakfast was off their hands.

"Day is pretty well gone already," said Norton consulting his watch.
"It is twelve o' clock. There is not time for anything else but to have
dinner and go home."

"We do not dine till four o' clock," Esther announced.

"Four hours," said somebody. "Time enough to get hungry again. I'll
take anybody that wants to go a row on the river; if somebody'll help
me row."

"Everybody do what everybody likes until three o' clock," said Esther.
"Suppose then, at three o' clock, we all gather in the pavilion and
have games?"

Unanimous acceptance of this proposal. Then a flutter and division and
scattering of the little crowd.

Matilda wondered what _she_ would do, or be asked to do. She would have
liked the sail on the Bronx; but so would a good many more. The little
boat was very soon filled with the eager applicants, and David
volunteered to help row it. One of Matilda's friends was thus removed
from her. She turned to look for Norton. He was not to be seen. A
general stampede of the boys to the stables made it supposable that he
was in the midst of the gay little group rushing that way. Matilda
looked around her. The tables were deserted; the little boat had
disappeared up the stream; all the boys were gone; and one or two
groups of girls, unknown to her, were loitering over the grass towards
the house. A flush of vexation and embarrassment came over Matilda. Was
this civility? and what was she to do with herself for three hours to
come? And how disagreeable, to be regarded as of no consequence and no
concern to anybody. Tears swelled in their fountains, but Matilda was
not going to cry. She would not linger alone by the table; she did not
know her way in the house, and besides would not seek those who should
properly seek her; she turned her steps to