nking what I would _like_ to have."

"And you are not going to come into the greenhouse at all?"

That was more than Matilda had counted upon; the tears started to her
eyes; but she only said,--

"I cannot get the plants, Norton;" and she said it steadily.

"You are going into that ridiculous charitable concern?"

Matilda was beyond answering just then; she kept silence.

"Let _me_ into your greenhouse, Norton," said Judy.

"Yes; fine work you would make there," Norton replied.

"Indeed I would. I'll fill my shelves with just the finest things we
can get; camellias, if you like; and the newest geraniums, and
everything."

"You wouldn't take care of them if you had them."

"Well, you would," said Judy; "and it comes to the same thing."

"Pink," said Norton, "I must have my shelves full; and I can't do it
all. If you won't come into the greenhouse, I shall let Judy come."

"Well, Norton," said Matilda steadily. "If you knew what I know, and if
you had seen what I have seen, you wouldn't wonder at me; and I almost
think you would help me."

"You'll grow wiser," said Norton, "when you have had your fingers
burned a few times."

The tone of cool indifference to her subjects of interest, of slight
displeasure at her preferring them to his, went to Matilda's heart. So
also it tried her greatly, to see for the rest of the evening Norton
and Judy in high confabulation over the catalogues and the greenhouse.
She felt shut out from it, and a little from Norton himself. It was
hard to bear; and once and again she could not help the tears rising to
her eyes. She got rid of them, she thought, cleverly, without any one
being the wiser; but David Bartholomew had marked it all. He had not
said a word, however; and Matilda went early up to bed; marvelling anew
that it should be so difficult to do right. Why must this greenhouse
business come up just at this moment?

She had a week to think about it and grieve over it. The boys were
going to school again now, and she saw but little of them. Judy had
masters and mistresses, and was herself much out of sight. Matilda was
to be under Norton's tutelage, it had been agreed; and accordingly he
had put certain books in her hands and pointed out certain tasks; and
Matilda laid hold of them with great zeal. With so much, indeed, that
difficulties, if there were any, disappeared; and Norton had little to
do beyond finding out that she was, as he expressed it, "all right,"
and givi