getting along in the world less easily; trudging over the stones and
going through the dirt. And it was very pleasant to feel that she had a
stock of rich and elegant dresses getting ready for her wear, and such
a home of comfort, instead of the old last summer's life at Mrs.
Candy's. Matilda was grown strong and well, her cheeks filled out and
fresh-coloured; she felt like another Matilda. But as she drove along
with these thoughts, the other thought came up to her, of her new
opportunities. The Lord's child,--yes, that was not changed; she was
that still; what was the work she ought to do, here and now?
Opportunities for what, had she? Matilda thought carefully about it.
And one thing which she had expected she could do, she feared was going
out of her reach. How was she ever to have more money to spare for
people needing it, if the demands of her new position kept pace with
her increased means? If her boots must always cost seven dollars
instead of three, having twice as much money to buy them with would not
much help the matter. "And they must," said Matilda to herself. "With
such dresses as these I am to have, and in such a house as Mrs.
Lloyd's, those common boots I used to wear at Shadywalk would not do at
all. And to wear with my red and green silks, I know I must have a new
pair of slippers, with bows, like Judy's. I wonder how much _they_ will
cost? And then I shall hardly have even pennies for the little girls
that sweep the street, at that rate."

Opportunities? were all her opportunities gone from her at once? That
could not be; and yet Matilda did not see her way out of the question.

So the carriage rolled along with her, and she by and by got tired of
thinking and began to examine more carefully into what there was to
see. She was coming into a quarter of the city unlike those where she
had been before. The house of Mme. Fournissons was in a very quiet
street certainly; but what she was passing now was far below that in
pretension. _These_ streets were very uncomfortable, she thought, even
to ride through. Yet the houses themselves were as good and as large as
many houses in Shadywalk. But nothing in Shadywalk, no, not Lilac lane
itself, was so repelling. Nothing in Shadywalk was so dingy and dark.
Lilac lane was dirty, and poor; yet it was broad enough and the
cottages stood far
enough apart to let the sky look in. Here, in these streets, houses and
people seemed to be packed. There was a bare look of