ite a new experience, at waking one morning, to feel
Mrs. Laval's lips pressed to hers for a kiss, and to hear a cheerful
voice say,--

"My darling is better!"

Matilda looked up.

"I believe I have been sick," she said, in a weak little voice.

"Indeed you have, darling--very sick. But you are better now. How do
you feel?"

"Better," Matilda answered in that same faint, _thin_ little
voice;--"weak."

"Of course you are weak! Here is something to make you stronger."

Mrs. Laval brought a tea-cup presently, and fed Matilda with soda
biscuit dipped in tea; very nice it seemed; and then she went off again
into a sweet deep sleep.

When she awaked from this, it was high day, and the light was let into
the room as it had not been for a good while. It all looked natural,
and yet new; and Matilda's eyes went from one object to another with a
sort of recognizing pleasure; feeling languid too, as if her eyelids
could just keep open and that was all. But the light seemed sweet. And
her gaze lingered long on the figure of Mrs. Laval, who was standing by
the mantle-piece; going over with quiet pleasure every graceful outline
and pretty detail; the flow of her soft drapery; the set of the dainty
little French muslin cap which set lightly on her hair. Till Mrs. Laval
turned, and smiled to see her eyes open.

"Ready for breakfast?" she said gayly.

"I don't believe I could get up, mamma," said the weak little voice.

"Get up! I don't believe you could! But what do you think of having
breakfast in bed? Wait; you shall have your face washed first."

She brought a basin and bathed Matilda's face and hands, first with
water and then with cologne. It was pleasant to be tended so, and the
fine, soft, sweet damask was pleasant, with which the drying was done.
Then Mrs. Laval rang the bell, and presently came up a tray which she
took from the servant's hands and brought to the bedside herself. Then
Matilda was raised up and propped up with pillows, till she could see
what was on the plate.

"How nice that cologne is! I haven't had breakfast in a good while
before, have I?"

"No, my darling." And Mrs. Laval stooped to press her lips fondly.
"What do you say to a little bit of roast bird?"

Matilda was very glad of it; and she enjoyed the delicate thin slice of
toast, and the fragrant tea out of a sort of eggshell cup; the china
was so thin it was semi-transparent. She made a bird's breakfast, but
it was very good, and did h