"From New York?"
"In New York. They are coming to me from Vevay. Father, mother, and two daughters; and I believe a boy too. They will know nothing except farmwork, when they come; but they do make excellent servants, and so trustworthy."
"Will you want so many?"
"I will find use for them. To-morrow then. Thank you. Good morning."
Mrs. Candy stood, looking after her visitor. She was so elegantly dressed, and her veil was of such rich lace. She must want a goodly number of women in her household, Mrs. Candy allowed to herself, if she often indulged in dresses of fine muslin ruffled like that. And Mrs. Candy sighed. One must have money for those things, she reflected; and not a good deal of money, but a great deal. A good deal would not do. Mrs. Candy sighed again and went in, thinking that Matilda's not going this journey with her would save her quite a pretty penny. Matilda as yet knew nothing of what had been in her aunt's mind respecting Philadelphia, or Mrs. Laval either. It had all the force of a surprise when Mrs. Candy called her and told her to pack up her clothes for leaving home.
"All my clothes, aunt Erminia?"
"You will want them all. Issa and I are going on a journey that will take us a little while—and I am going to leave you in somebody's care here; so put out whatever you will want for a couple of weeks."
Matilda wanted to ask with whom she was to be left; but that would come in time. It would be somebody not her aunt, at any rate; and she went to her room and began laying oat her clothes with fingers that trembled with delight. Presently Mrs. Candy came in. She sat down and surveyed Matilda's preparations. On one chair there was a neat little pile of underclothes; on two others were similar neat little piles of frocks; some things beside were spread over the bed.
"Those are all the dresses you have got, eh?" she said.
"That's all, aunt Candy. Here are my calicoes for every day, and those are the rest; my blue spot, and my black gingham and my white. They are all clean."