"I was not there. But Mr. Richmond has been talking to me about it. Norton,"—and Matilda's voice sank,—"do you know, they have been arranging, and your mother wishes it, that I should stay with her?"
Matilda spoke the last words very softly, in the manner of one who makes a communication of somewhat awful character; and in truth it had a kind of awe for her. Evidently not for Norton. He had almost finished his boot, and he kept on with his filing, as coolly as if what Matilda said had no particular interest or novelty. She would have been disappointed, but that she had caught one gleam from Norton's eye which flashed like an electric spark. She just caught it, and then Norton went on calmly,—
"I think that is a very sensible arrangement, Pink. I must say, it is not the first time it has occurred to me."
"Then you knew it before?"
"I did not know they had settled it," said Norton, still coolly.
"But you knew it was talked about? O Norton! why didn't you tell me?"
Norton looked up, smiled, dropped his boot, and at once took his new little sister in his arms and clasped her right heartily.
"What for should I tell you, Pink?" he said, kissing Matilda's eyes, where the tears of that incipient disappointment had gathered.
"How could you help telling me?"
"Ah, that is another thing," said Norton. "You couldn't have helped it, could you?"