"Oh, ma'am!"—Matilda began again in utter bewildered delight.
"No, darling, don't say anything about it," Mrs. Laval answered, finding Matilda's pocket and slipping the pocket-book in. "You shall talk to me about it another time. I wish you could give me your secret."
"What secret, ma'am?" said Matilda, who for the very delight that flushed her could hardly speak.
"How to get so much satisfaction out of a little money."
Matilda wished she could give Mrs. Laval anything that would do her a pleasure, and she began to think, could she let her into this secret? It seemed a simple secret enough to Matilda; but she had a certain consciousness that for the great lady it might be more difficult to understand than it was for her. Was it possible that elegant pocket-book was in her pocket?
But now came the summons to tea, and they got up off the grass and went in. So beautiful a table Matilda had never seen, and more thorough petting no little girl ever had. No one else was there but those three, so she was quite at home. Such a pleasant home it was, too. The windows all open, of the large, airy, pretty dining-room; the blue mountains seen through the windows at one side; from the others, the green of the trees and the gay colours of flowers; the evening air drew gently through the room, and flowers and fruit and all sorts of delicacies and all sorts of elegances on the table made Matilda feel she was in fairyland.
"When are you coming again?" said Mrs. Laval, taking her in her arms when she was about going.
"Whenever you will let me, ma'am."
"Could you learn to love me a little bit, some day?"
Matilda did not know how to answer. She looked into the handsome dark eyes that were watching her, and with the thought of the secret sympathy between the lady and herself, her own watered.