"She'll come to that," said Maria; "or it'll be something you will think wrong; and then we shall have a time! I declare, I believe I shall be glad!"
"What for, Maria?"
"Why! Then I shall have you again. You'll come on my side. It's lonely to have the dirty work all to myself. I don't suppose you mind it."
"Indeed, but I do," said Matilda. "I don't like to sit up-stairs darning stockings."
"And reading. And I don't know what."
"The reading is worse," said Matilda, sighing. "It is something I do not understand."
"What does she make you do it for?"
"I don't know," said Matilda, with another sigh. "But I want to do something else dreadfully, all the time."
The darning was very tedious indeed the morning after this talk. Matilda had got her head full of schemes and plans that looked pleasant; and she was eager to turn her visions into reality. It was stupid to sit in her aunt's room, taking up threads on her long needle exactly and patiently, row after row. It had to be done exactly, or Mrs. Candy would have made her pick it all out again.
"Yes, that is very well; that is neat," said Mrs. Candy, when Matilda brought her the stocking she had been at work on, with the heel smoothly run. "That will do. Now you may begin upon another one. There they are, in that basket."