“Never mind,” replied Matilda, in her hurrying manner, and taking the broth from the woman in such a way that the basin shook upon the plate; on which Ellen said—“Have a care, the broth seems very hot; indeed, too hot for Zebby to take.”
Matilda fancied this caution an indirect attack upon her care, and she went to the bedside immediately, and bolting up to the patient, who was sitting, raised by pillows, she offered the broth to her, saying—“Come, Zebby, let me feed you with this nice food—it will do you good.”
The warm fume of the basin was offensive to the invalid—“Me no likee brothies,” said she; and as it was not instantly removed, she unhappily pushed away the plate, and turned the scalding contents of the basin completely into the bosom of poor Matilda, as she reclined towards her.
Shrieking with pain, and stamping with anger, Matilda instantly cried out that she was murdered, and the wretch should be flayed alive.
Ellen, shocked, terrified, and truly sorry, called out in an agony—“Mamma, dear mamma, come here this moment! poor Matilda is scalded to death!”
The nurse, the servants, and Mrs. Harewood herself, were in a few moments with the sufferer; and the latter, although she despatched the footman for a surgeon, did not for a moment neglect the assistance and relief in her own power to bestow; she scraped some white lead[1] into a little thick cream, and applied it with a feather all over the scalded parts; and in a very short time the excruciating pain was relieved, and the fire so well drawn out by it, that when the surgeon arrived he made no change in the application, but desired it might be persisted in, and said—“He had no doubt of a cure being speedily obtained, if the patient were calm.”
During the former part of this time, Matilda continued to scream incessantly, with the air of a person whose unmerited and intolerable sufferings gave a right to violence; and even when she became comparatively easy, she yet uttered bitter complaints against Zebby, as the cause of the mischief; never taking into consideration her own share of it, nor recollecting that she acted both thoughtlessly and stubbornly in neglecting the advice of Ellen; and that although her principal motive was the endeavour to benefit Zebby, yet there was a deficiency in actual kindness, when she offered her broth it was impossible for the poor creature to taste. Such, however, was the commiseration for her injury felt by all those around her, that no one would, in the moment of her punishment, say a word that could be deemed unkind; and soothings, rather than exhortations, were all that were uttered.
At length the storm was appeased; Matilda, declaring herself much easier, was laid upon the sofa, and a gentle anodyne being given to her, she closed her eyes, and if she did not sleep, she appeared in a state of stupor, which much resembled sleep. It so happened, that the hot liquid had, in falling, thrown many drops upon her face, which gave her so much pain at the moment, that she thought she was scalded much worse than she really was, as did those around her; but Ellen, as she watched her slumbers, now perceived that this was a very transient injury, and she observed to her mamma, that she hoped Matilda’s good looks would not be spoiled by the accident, at least that her beauty would be restored before her mother’s arrival from the West Indies.
“Before that time,” returned Mrs. Harewood, “I trust Matilda will have attained such a degree of mental beauty, as would render the total destruction of her personal beauty a trifling loss, in comparison, to the eye of a thinking and good mother, such as I apprehend Mrs. Hanson to be.”
“But surely, mamma, it is a good thing to be handsome? I mean, if people happen to be handsome, it is a pity they should lose their beauty.”