The carriage was the first thing that took Matilda's attention; but after that she fell to an eager inspection of the houses and streets they were passing through. These changed rapidly, she found. The streets grew broad, the houses grew high; groceries and shops were seldomer to be seen, and were of much better air; markets disappeared; carmen and carts grew less frequent; until at last all these objectionable things seemed to be left behind, and the carriage drew up before a door which looked upon nothing that was not stately. Up and down, as far as Matilda could see, the street was clean and splendid. She could see this in one glance, almost without looking, as she got out of the carriage, before Norton hurried her in.
She felt strange, and curious; not afraid; she knew the sheltering arms of her friends would protect her. It was a doubtful feeling, though, with which she stepped on the marble floor of the hall and saw the group which were gathered round Mrs. Laval. What struck Matilda at first was the beautiful hall, or room she would have called it, though the stairs went up from one side; its soft warm atmosphere; the rustle of silks and gleam of colours, and the gentle bubbling up of voices all around her. But she stood on the edge of the group. Soon she could make more detailed observations.
That stately lady in black silk and lace shawl, she was Mrs. Laval's mother; she heard Mrs. Laval call her so. Very stately, in figure and movement too; a person accustomed to command and have her own way, Matilda instinctively felt. Now she had her arms round Norton; she was certainly very fond of him. The lady with lace in her gleaming hair, and jewels at her breast, and the dress of crimson satin falling in rich folds all about her, sweeping the marble, that must be Mrs. Laval's sister. She looked like a person who did not do anything and had not anything she need do, like Mrs. Laval. Then this girl of about her own age, with a very bright mischievous face and a dress of sky blue, Matilda knew who she must be; would they like each other, she questioned? And then she had no more time for silent observations; Norton called upon her, and pulled her forward into the group.
"Grandmamma, you have not seen her," he cried; "you have not seen one of us. This is mamma's pet, and my—darling." It was evident the boy's thought was of "daughter" and "sister," but that a tender feeling stopped his tongue. Mrs. Lloyd looked at Matilda.
"I have heard of her," she said.
"Yes, but you must kiss her. She is one of us."
"She is mine," said Mrs. Laval meaningly, putting both arms around Matilda and drawing her to her mother.
The stately lady stooped and kissed the child, evidently because she was thus asked.
"Grandmamma, she is to have half my place in your heart," said Norton.
"Will you give it up to her?" Mrs. Lloyd asked.