silent appreciation. Meanwhile Matilda brought the cupboard to a little
order; and then filling up Mrs. Eldridge's cup for the third time,
carried back the kettle to Sabrina Rogers and begged the loan of an old
broom.

"What do you want to do with it?"

"Mrs. Eldridge's room wants sweeping very much."

"Likely it does! Who's a going to sweep it, though, if I lend you my
broom?"

"There's nobody but me," said Matilda.

The woman brought the broom, and, as she gave it, asked, "Who sent you
to do all this?"

"Nobody."

"What made you come, then? It's queer play for a child like you."

"Somebody must do it, you know," said Matilda; and she ran away.

But Sabrina's words recurred to her. It was queer play. But then, who
would do it? And it was not for Mrs. Eldridge alone. She brushed away
with a good heart, while the poor old woman was hovering over the chair
on which her supper was set, munching bread and herring with a
particularity of attention which shewed how good a good meal was to
her. Matilda did not disturb her, and she said never a word to Matilda;
till, just as the little girl had brought all the sweepings of the
floor to the threshold, where they lay in a heap, and another stroke of
the broom would have scattered them into the street, the space outside
the door was darkened by a figure, the sight of which nearly made the
broom fly out of Matilda's hand. Nobody but Mr. Richmond stood there.
The two faces looked mutual pleasure and surprise at each other.

"Mr. Richmond!"

"What _are_ you doing here, Tilly?"

"Mr. Richmond, can you step over this muss? I will have it away
directly."

Mr. Richmond stepped in, looked at the figure by the stove, and then
back at Matilda. The little girl finished her sweeping and came back,
to receive a warm grasp of the hand from her minister; one of the
things Matilda liked best to get.

"Is all this your work, Tilly," he whispered.

"Mr. Richmond, nobody has given her a cup of tea in a long while."

The minister stepped softly to the figure still bending over the broken
herring; I think his blue eye had an unusual softness in it. The old
woman pushed her chair back, and looked up at him.

"It's the minister agin," said she.

"Are you glad to see me?" said Mr. Richmond, taking a chair that
Matilda had dusted for him. I am afraid she took off her apron to do it
with, but the occasion was pressing. There was no distinct answer to
the minister's question.

"You