better than to give it her to bear. She was not
obliged to bear it, either. Aunt Zara would not take it very well, if
she was to hear it."

Judy only pouted, and then went on with a little more crying for the
matter of the shawl. David gave up his part of the business.

Except looking for the thread. That he did faithfully; but he did not
know where to go to find the article and of course did not find it.
What he brought to Matilda might as well have been a cable, for all the
use she could make of it in the premises. There was no more to do but
to tell Mrs. Laval and get her help; and this was the course finally
agreed upon between Matilda and David; Judy was not consulted.

Mrs. Laval heard the story very calmly; and immediately promised to get
the thread, which she did. Matilda could not also obtain from her an
absolute promise of secrecy. Mrs. Laval reserved that; only assuring
Matilda that she would do no harm, and that she would say nothing at
least until it should be seen whether or no Matilda had succeeded in
the repair of the scarf.

And now for days thereafter Matilda was most of the time shut up in her
room, with the door locked. It was necessary to keep out Judy; the work
called for Matilda's whole and best attention. It was not an easy or a
small undertaking. If anybody could have looked in through the closed
door those days, he would have seen a little figure seated on a low
foot-cushion, with a magnificent lace drapery lying over her lap and
falling to the floor. On a chair at her side were her thread and
needles and scissors; and very delicately and slowly Matilda's fingers
were busy trying to weave again the lost meshes of the exquisite lace.
They worked and worked, hour after hour, before she could be certain
whether she was going to succeed; and the blood flushed into Matilda's
cheeks with the excitement and the intense application. At last,
Saturday afternoon, enough progress was made to let the little girl see
that, as she said to herself, "it would do;" and she put the scarf away
that afternoon feeling that she was all ready for Sunday to come now,
and could enjoy it without a drawback of any sort.

And so she did--even Dr. Broadman and his parti-coloured church.
Matilda's whole heart had turned back to its old course; that course
which looks to Jesus all the way. Sunlight lies all along that way, as
surely as one's face is turned to the sun; so Matilda felt very happy.
She hoped, too, that she