ppose I do," said Norton.

"Do you understand the bearing of it on all of us three at the table."

Norton looked up inquiringly.

"You comprehend how it touches me?"

"Yes, sir,"--Norton answered with profound respect in eye and voice.

"And Matilda?"

The boy's eye went quick and sharp to the little figure at the head of
the table. What his look meant, Matilda could not tell; and he did not
speak.

"You comprehend how it touches Matilda?" Mr. Richmond repeated.

"No, sir," was answered rather stoutly. It had very much the air of not
wanting to know.

"You should understand, if you are to live in the same house together.
The same Friend has done the same kindness for Matilda that he has done
for me; he has given himself to death that she might live; and she has
heard it and believed it, and obeyed his voice and become his servant.
What sort of life ought she to live?"

Norton stared at Mr. Richmond, not in the least rudely, but like one
very much discomfited. He looked as if he were puzzling to find his way
out of a trap. But Matilda clapped her hands together, exclaiming,

"I am so glad Norton understands that! I never could make him
understand it."

"Why you never tried," said Norton.

"O yes, I did, Norton; in different ways. I suppose I never said it so
that you could understand it."

"I don't understand it now," said Norton.

"O Mr. Richmond! don't he?" said Matilda.

"Tell him," said the minister. "Perhaps you put it too cautiously. Tell
him in words that he cannot mistake, what sort of life you mean to
lead."

The little girl hesitated and looked at Norton. Norton, like one acting
under protest, looked at her. They waited, questioning each other's
faces.

"It is that, Norton," Matilda said at last very gently, and with a sort
of tenderness in tone and manner which spoke for her. "It is just that
you said. I do not think that my _hand_ is my own."

Norton looked at the little hand unconsciously extended to point her
words, as if he would have liked to confiscate it; he made no reply,
but turned to his supper again. The conversation had taken a turn he
did not welcome.

"We have not done with the subject," Mr. Richmond went on. "You see how
it touches me now, and how it touches Matilda. You know by your own
shewing, what sort of life she ought to lead; and so you will know how
you ought to help her and not hinder her in it. But Norton,--how does
it touch you?"

The boy was not ready wit