Trading Part 18

"There is one person glad to see you," remarked Mrs. Laval.

Matilda's eyes were glittering with tears; she said not a word.

"Glad?" echoed Norton. "Pink, the house has been too stupid for anything without you. It's astonis.h.i.+ng, what a difference one girl makes."

"_One_ girl--" said Mrs Laval.

"Ah!" said Norton. "I didn't say anything about the other. It wouldn't distress me at all to have Judy shut up in her room a few days."

"But not by sickness!" said his mother.

"Not particular how, mamma; do Judy no harm either. She wants taking down somehow."

"Why, Norton," said Matilda, "I thought you were so busy with your greenhouse, you wouldn't miss me much. And Judy and you were getting on nicely with the flowers, I thought."

"Nicely!" repeated Norton. "She doesn't care any more for the flowers than if they were grown to make door mats of. Greenhouse! why, it's as much as I can do to prevent her pulling all the buds off; and when she's got them, as I said, she don't care the least for them. No; the one thing Judy Bartholomew cares for is mischief; and the second is her own way."

"Gently, Norton!" said his mother. "I know somebody else that likes his own way."

"Yes, ma'am, and can't get it--worse luck!"

"O Norton!" said Matilda.

"Well I'd just like to have you tell me then, how I'm to get Judy Bartholomew out of my greenhouse!"

"How did you get her in?" asked his mother.

"I went into partners.h.i.+p with her."

"And I ask, why?"

"Because she had money, mamma; and I wanted the greenhouse in order; and Pink wouldn't."

"Couldn't"--said Matilda. She did not feel like using many words just then.

"Pink, mamma, is the very worst person in the world about having her own way."

"And the very best person in the world about being sick."

"How, mamma?" said Matilda. "I haven't done anything at all but lie still and be taken care of."

"Mamma, she looks pale; and her voice sounds thin; aren't you going to give her something to strengthen her up?"

"She is going to have her supper in a few minutes."

"What are you going to give her?"

"Roast oysters and bread and b.u.t.ter."

"That sounds jolly. I'd stay and have some too; only I have got to see a fellow round the corner. Good-bye, Pink. I'm off. Eat as many oysters as you can!"

And off he ran. Matilda was disappointed; she was very fond of him, and she thought he might have liked better to stay with her this first evening. A little creeping feeling of homesickness came over her; not for any place that was once called home, but for the clinging affection of more hands and voices than one.

"He's a boy, dear," said Mrs. Laval, noticing her look. "Boys cannot bear to be shut up, even with what they love the best. And you are a girl--just full of womanly tenderness. I see it well enough. You will have something to bear in this world, my child. Boys will be boys, and men will be men; but Norton loves you dearly, for all that."

"I know he does, mamma," said Matilda.

But when a few minutes later, Mrs. Laval was called downstairs to see somebody, the feeling she had kept back rushed upon her again. She wanted something she had not got. And she began to think of her best Friend. Matilda had not forgotten him; yet through these days of sickness and weakness, and the constant presence of somebody in her room, she had missed for a long time her Bible readings and all but very short and scattering prayer. She recollected this now; and longing after the comfort of a nearer thought of G.o.d and closer feeling of his presence, she got up out of her chair and tottered across the room, holding by everything in her way, to the place where she kept her Bible. Once back in her easy chair, she had to rest a bit before she could read; then she found a place of sweet words that she knew, and rested herself in a more thorough fas.h.i.+on over them.

She was bending down with her volume in her hand to catch the fading light from the window, when another visiter came in. It was David Bartholomew, who having knocked and fancied that he heard the word of permission, walked in and was at her side before she knew it. Matilda started, and then looked very much pleased.

"You are not strong enough to be studying," David said kindly.

"O I am not studying."

"What have you got there that interests you so much, then? to be bending over it like that."

Now Matilda was afraid to say she was reading the Bible, knowing in what abhorrence David held part of her Bible; so she answered with a quick sort of instinct, "It was only a chapter in Isaiah, David."

"Isaiah!" he repeated; "our Isaiah? Let me see, please."

He took the book and looked keenly at the page.

"What interested you so here, Matilda?"

"I was reading that little twelfth chapter. I was thinking of those 'wells of salvation.'"

She was trembling with the fear of saying something or other to displease him, afraid to answer at all; but the simplest answer seemed the best; and she prayed for wisdom and boldness. David was looking hard at the page, and alternately at her.

"It is our Isaiah," he said, turning the leaves back and forward; "it is our Scriptures; but not the Hebrew. I shall learn to read the Hebrew. What were you thinking about the 'wells of salvation,' Matilda?"

Matilda was getting very nervous; but as before, she answered simply the truth.

"I was thinking how sweet the water is."

"You?" said David, with a depth of astonishment which might have made her laugh if she had not been so frightened. "You? what do you know of them, or think you know? These words belong to the time of Messiah ben David."

"Yes," said Matilda.

"What do you think you know about them?"

Matilda thought within herself that here was the end of David's friends.h.i.+p for her. Her heart sank, yet she spoke as before.

"I have drawn water out of them, David; and I know that the water is sweet."

He stood and looked at her, as if he were full of something to say; but perhaps he guessed at her reference, or perhaps he saw her too feeble to be attacked with exciting topics. He shut his mouth and said nothing; and just then the servant entered bearing the tray with Matilda's supper. That made a nice diversion. I think David was glad of it. At any rate he made himself useful; brought up the little table to Matilda's side; set the tea-pot out of her way and spread her napkin on her lap. Then, hearing that Mrs. Laval was detained downstairs, he took the management of things upon himself. He made Matilda's cup of tea; he spread bread and b.u.t.ter; he opened oysters. n.o.body could have done it better; but it was always acknowledged that David Bartholomew was born a gentleman. Matilda enjoyed it hugely. She was ready for her oysters, as a little convalescent child should be; and bread and b.u.t.ter was good; but to have David helping her and ministering to her gave to both an exquisite flavour. He was so nice about it, and it was so kind of him.

"That other supper has been sadly put off, hasn't it?" he said as he opened Matilda's last oyster.