her and kissed her.

"You dear child!" she said. "You would like all the world to be saints;
wouldn't you?"

"And so would you, mamma?"

"I am not one myself," said Mrs. Laval.

"But mamma, you would like all the world to be comfortable?"

"Yes, but I cannot reach all the world. I can reach you."

"This would make me--so very comfortable! mamma."

"But I want you to be as well dressed as Judy. And I cannot do
_everything_."

"Mamma," said Matilda, "I don't care at all,--in comparison to this."

"I care," said Mrs. Laval. "Is that dreadful piece of work nearly
finished?"

"Almost, now, mamma." And with a sigh Matilda sat down to it. She had
ventured as far as she thought best. In a few minutes more the long job
was finished. The shawl was exactly as good as new, Mrs. Laval
declared. She made Matilda tell her all about her learning the art of
lace-mending; and then broke faith; for she went straight to her mother
with the mended shawl and gave her the whole story over again. Matilda
did not suspect this; she thought Mrs. Laval had only taken the scarf
to put it safely away. Nobody else suspected it, for Mrs. Lloyd gave no
token of having become wiser than she was before.

Every thing now centred towards Christmas and the party of Christmas
eve. Even Sarah's affairs had to go into the background for the time,
though Matilda did not forget them. The Christmas gifts were all ready
and safe. An air of mystery and expectation was about all the young
people; and a good bustle of preparation occupied the thoughts and the
tongues at least of the old. An immense Christmas tree was brought in
and planted in a huge green tub in the drawing-room. Mrs. Lloyd and
Mrs. Laval and Mrs. Bartholomew were out a great deal, driving about in
the carriage; and bundles and boxes and packages of all shapes came to
the house. Matilda and Norton went out Friday morning on some remaining
errand of Christmas work; and they found that all the world was more or
less in the condition of Mrs. Lloyd's house. Everybody out, everybody
busy, everybody happy, more or less; a great quantity of parcels in
brown paper travelling about; a universal stir of pleasant intention.
Cars and busses went very full, at all times of day, and of all sorts
of people; and a certain genial Christmas light was upon the dingy city
streets. Only when Matilda passed Sarah Staples at her crossing, or
some other child such as she, there came a sort of tightness at her