"Now, Aunt Erminia?"
"Certainly. It is your own fault that you have made such a business of it. You should have done as I told you."
"But I am very tired."
"I dare say you are."
Matilda was very much in the mind to cry; but that would not have mended matters, and would have hurt her pride besides. She went earnestly to work with her darning needle instead. She could use it nicely, she found, with giving pains and time enough. But it took a great while to do a little. Up one side and down the other; then up that side and down the first; threading long double needlefuls, and having them used up with great rapidity; Matilda seemed to grow into a darning machine. She was very still; only a deep-drawn long breath now and then heaved her little breast. Impatience faded, however, and a sort of dulness crept over her. At last she became very tired, so tired that pride gave way, and she said so.
Mrs. Candy remarked that she was sorry.
"Aunt Candy, I think Maria may want me by this time."
"Yes. That is of no consequence."
"Maria has got no one to help her."
"She will not hurt herself," Clarissa observed.