at she was exactly
afraid of him--he was very gentle to her, as he was to all children; but
his loyal nature was antipathetic to hers. She had no sympathy with him.
How confide her thoughts to him? She had an instinctive knowledge that
those thoughts were not such as could harmonise with his. Yet, though
taciturn, uncaressing, undemonstrative, she appeared mild and docile.
Her reserve was ascribed to constitutional timidity. Timid to a degree
she usually seemed; yet, when you thought you had solved the enigma, she
said or did something so coolly determined, that you were forced again
to exclaim, "I can't make that girl out!" She was not quick at her
lessons. You had settled in your mind that she was dull, when, by a
chance remark, you were startled to find that she was very sharp; keenly
observant, when you had fancied her fast asleep. She had seemed, since
her mother's death, more fond of Mrs. Lyndsay and Caroline than of any
other human beings--always appeared sullen or out of spirits when
they were absent; yet she confided to them no more than she did to
her father. You would suppose from this description that Matilda
could inspire no liking in those with whom she lived. Not so; her very
secretiveness had a sort of attraction--a puzzle always creates some
interest. Then her face, though neither handsome nor pretty, had in it
a treacherous softness--a subdued, depressed expression. A kind observer
could not but say with an indulgent pity; "There must be a good deal of
heart in that girl, if one could but--make her out."

She appeared to take at once to Arabella, more than she had taken to
Mrs. Lyndsay, or even to Caroline, with whom she had been brought up as
a sister, but who, then joyous and quick and innocently fearless--with
her soul in her eyes and her heart on her lips--had no charm for
Matilda, because there she saw no secret to penetrate, and her she had
no object in deceiving.

But this stranger, of accomplishments so rare, of character so decided,
with a settled gloom on her lip, a gathered care on her brow--there was
some one to study, and some one with whom she felt a sympathy; for she
detected at once that Arabella was also a secret.

At first, Arabella, absorbed in her own reflections, gave to Matilda
but the mechanical attention which a professional teacher bestows on an
ordinary pupil. But an interest in Matilda sprung up in her breast, in
proportion as she conceived a venerating gratitude for Darrel