, and you don't; all the same, you
_will_ know, when the time comes; and then you will be very sorry and
mortified to find yourself unable for the work given you, if you
despised your opportunity of preparation. And then it will be too late
to mend that, as well as the lace."

"And is that true of all sorts of things, Mr. Richmond?"

"Of all sorts of things. Whenever the Lord puts a chance of learning
something in your way, you may be quite sure He has a use and a meaning
in it. He has given it to you to do."

"Then all my learning to cook, and do things about the house?"

"Yes," said Mr. Richmond, smiling. "It is not difficult to see a use
for that; is it?"

"No, sir--I suppose not," the child said, thoughtfully.

"Have you not opportunities for being thankful too, in the midst of all
these other things?"

"Yes, Mr. Richmond."

But the child stood looking at him with a wistful, intent face, and
wide-open, thoughtful eyes; so sober, and so eager, and so pitiful,
that it made an unconscious plea to the minister's heart.

"Come," said he; "we have so much to say to our Lord, let us say it."

And they kneeled down, and Mr. Richmond put all Matilda's heart into a
prayer for her, and some of his own.

"I must go now, Mr. Richmond," Matilda said presently after. But she
said it with a much more cheerful tone.

"I shall want to hear how you get on," said Mr. Richmond. "When will
you take tea with me again?"

"Oh, I don't know, sir. Aunt Candy is always at home."

"And keeps you there?"

"Yes, sir. Lately. She didn't at first."

"Well, I must see about that. I think you must be allowed to come and
see me, at all events. Perhaps you do not know, Matilda, that your
mother in almost the last hour of her life asked me to take care of
you."

"Did she?" Matilda exclaimed, with a wonderful change of voice and
manner.

"Yes. She did. In your aunt's presence."

"And you will, Mr. Richmond?" said the child, a little timidly.

"And I will--while I live myself."

"Then I _can_ come and see you, Mr. Richmond?"

"I think you can. I will see about it."

Matilda gave her friend a good night which was almost joyous, and then
ran out to the kitchen.

"Miss Redwood," she said, "did you change your mind again about Mrs.
Eldridge? I thought you agreed, and that you were going to do all that
for me."

"No, child; I hain't changed my mind. I changed it oncet, you know, to
come over to you. I never did go both ways, l