"But it cannot be pleasant."
"Oh yes, ma'am!" Matilda answered, more earnestly.
"How can it be?"
"I thought it would not be pleasant, at first," said Matilda; "but I found it was."
"What made it pleasant, dear?"
"If you saw the poor old woman, Mrs. Laval, and how much she wanted comfort, I think you would understand it."
"Would you come and see me, if I wanted comfort?" the lady inquired. Matilda smiled at the possibility. Then something in Mrs. Laval's face reminded her that even with such a beautiful house and so rich abundance of things that money can buy, there might be a sad want of something that money cannot buy; and she grew grave again.
"Would you?" Mrs. Laval repeated.
And Matilda said "Yes." And Mrs. Laval again put her face down to Matilda's face and pressed her lips upon hers, again and again, as if she drew some sweetness from them. Not so passionately as the time before; yet with quiet earnestness. Then with one hand she stroked the hair from Matilda's forehead, and drew it forward, and passed her fingers through it, caressing it in a tender, thoughtful way. Norton knelt on the grass beside them and looked on, watching and satisfied. Matilda was happy and passive.
"Have you got money enough, love, for all you want to do?" Mrs. Laval asked at length.