"I do not want anything to remind me of her," said Matilda; and the little set of her head at the moment spoke volumes. "And besides, aunt Candy and Clarissa, I did not wear mourning when I was here, except only when I went to church."
"That shewed the respect," said Mrs. Candy. "You can see easily what Mrs. Laval means, by her dressing you out in that style. Have you got a black dress under your coat?"
"Let us see what you have got," said Clarissa.
As Matilda did not move, Mrs. Candy rose and went to her and lifted up the folds of her pelisse so as to show the brown merino.
"I thought so," she remarked, as she went back to her seat.
"Mrs. Laval ought to be ashamed!" said her daughter.
Matilda had got by this time about as much as she could bear. She rose up from her uneasy chair opposite Mrs. Candy.
"O, are you going?" said that lady. "You do not care to stay long with us."
"Not to-day," said little Matilda, with more dignity than she knew, and with an air of the head and shoulders that very much irritated Mrs. Candy.
"I'd cure you of that," she said, "if I had you. I thought I had cured you. You would not dare hold your head like that, if you were living with me."