"Number 316 Bolivar street. Now how much wiser are you?"
"Just so much," said Matilda, marking the number on a bit of paper. "I must know the name before I can find the place."
"You won't go there much," said Maria again. "Might just as well let it alone."
"Are the people here pleasant, Maria? are they good to live with?"
"They are not what you would call good."
"Are they pleasant?"
"No," said Maria. "They are not at all pleasant. I don't care who hears me say it. All the woman cares for, is to get as much work out of me as she can. That is how I live."
There was no getting to a smooth track for conversation with Maria. Begin where she would, Matilda found herself directly plunged into something disagreeable. She gave it up and sat still, watching the blue ribband curling and twisting in Maria's fingers, and wondering sadly anew why some people should be rich and others poor.
"Aren't you going to take off your things and have dinner with me?" said Maria, glancing up from her trimming.
"I cannot do that very well; Norton is coming for me; and I do not know how soon."