ou suppose we get along without a carriage?" said Letty.

"You are older. Oh Anne and Letty!" cried their little sister, "I don't
know why I have so much and you have so little; but it isn't my fault."

Tears were in her eyes; but her sisters shewed no melting on their
part. They answered, that nobody supposed it was her fault. The energy
of Matilda's hugs and kisses seemed to impress them, at last.

"Tell me!" said Anne, holding her off to look at her,--"are you happy
here? Do they treat you really as their own child? Would you like to
come back to us? Because if you would--"

"O no, no, Anne! yes, they do. Yes, I am very happy. I don't want
anything but what I have got."

"Well, then you are to be envied," said Anne, relapsing into her former
tone; and the two went away. Matilda saw them out of the front door,
and then went back to her room and stood at the window a long time,
looking down the street by which they had gone. Why did they treat her
so? Why was she such a trouble to them? They were much older than she,
and her home sympathies had always been more particularly with Maria
and her mother in the old days; yet the family had been affectionate
and harmonious. The strange barrier which her prosperity had built up
between her and them was quite inexplicable to Matilda. At the same
time she was filled with sorrow for the contrast which she knew they
felt between her circumstances and their own. She mused, how she could
give them comfort or do them good in any way; but could not find it.
She was a weak little child. And the help she was giving to the poor
street sweeper and her mother was more needed and better bestowed there
than in any other direction. What would her small means avail towards
the wants of Anne and Letitia? But Matilda cried about it some sore
tears, as she stood by her window in the growing dusk. Then she went
back to the joy of what was coming to Sarah and her mother through her
instrumentality.

That joy grew sweeter and sweeter every day. The sheets and pillowcases
were finished. The furniture and the stove were moved in. The straw
beds Mr. Wharncliffe's care had provided were in readiness. David and
Matilda went again to look at the room; and cold and dull though it was
with no fire in the stove, there was great promise of comfort.

"Now, David," said Matilda, after she had turned round and round,
surveying every side and corner of the room again and again,--"_don't_
you think we migh