"I won't stay and see it," said Maria, stoutly; "nor I won't stay and bear my part of it."
"I quite agree with you," said Mrs. Candy, walking in from the other room. The girls were in the kitchen. "I quite agree with you, Maria. It is as unpleasant for me as it is for you, and you are doing no good to Matilda. It will be much better for us to separate. I have been thinking so for some time. You may choose what you will do, and I will make arrangements. Either you may join Anne and Letitia in town, and learn the business they are learning; or if you like any other business better, I will try and arrange it for you. Let me know to-morrow morning what you decide upon, and I will finish up the matter at once. I am quite tired of the present state of things, as you say."
Mrs. Candy finished her harangue and swept out by the other door. Nobody had interrupted her, and when she was gone nobody spoke. The two girls looked at each other, Maria with a face of consternation, Matilda white with despair. You might have heard a pin fall in the kitchen, while Mrs. Candy's footsteps sounded in the hall and going up stair after stair. Then Matilda's head went down on the table. She had no words.
"The old horrid old thing!" was Maria's exclamation. "She came and listened in the other room!"
But Matilda did not answer, and there was no relief in the explanation.
"I won't go!" said Maria next. "I won't go, unless I'm a mind to. It's my mother's house, not hers."
Matilda had no heart to answer such vain words. She knew they were vain.
"Why don't you speak!" said Maria, impatiently. "Why do you sit like that?"
"It's no use, Maria," said the little one, without raising her head.
"What is no use? I said I wouldn't go; and I will not, unless I choose. She can't make me."