rncliffe explained that some bed-tickings could be filled with
straw, for beds and pillows. A little chest of drawers with some
difficulty was found, to be had for a few shillings; and a stove. Now
this last gave Matilda unlimited satisfaction; for it was a tidy little
stove, had two or three cooking utensils belonging to it, and an oven
which the shopman assured them would bake "first-rate." In that stove
and hardware Matilda's fancy seemed to see whole loads of comfort for
Sarah and her mother. A happy child was she when they left the shop.

"I believe that is all we can do this afternoon, Tilly," said her
friend.

"Yes, sir. I think we have done a great deal. I thank you, sir."

He smiled and turned off to go his way alone; while David, who had been
much struck with the sweet gracefulness of Matilda's manner, walked
beside her; thinking, perhaps, that Mrs. Laval's adopted child was a
different person from what he had fancied.

"What shall _I_ do, now, Matilda?" he asked presently.

"I don't know. O David, I am very much obliged to you for coming with
me."

"That won't help your poor people though," said he smiling. "What more
do you want to do, or to get, for them?"

"Something to make a decent dress or two," Matilda said confidentially;
"but I can do that myself. I don't know, David! things puzzle me. Mr.
Wharncliffe says I must not try to do too much, because there are other
poor people that suffer, and want the money."

"There are so many, that all your money is but a very little drop on a
great desert, Matilda."

"But that one drop will make one spot of the desert better, David."

"Yes."

"Just a little--twenty or thirty dollars--will do a great deal for
these poor people. And then, if Sarah learns to work on a machine, you
know, and she and her mother get better pay and better work, they will
be able to take care of themselves for ever after."

"That's good sense," said David. "But just think of all that row of
tenement houses."

"David," said Matilda solemnly, "don't you think it is wrong?"

"What?"

"That people should be so poor, and live in such places?"

"I suppose it is people's own fault, a good deal."

"But no, very often it isn't. Now Mrs. Staples used to be a great deal
better oil; but her husband died, and she got sick, and so she came
down to this."

"But where is the wrong, then?" said David.

"Why, just think how much money there is, and what it might do if
people tried