"I will let her have the little front corner room, if you like. There is room enough."
"That will do," said Mrs. Laval. "Come, darling, let us go upstairs and look at it. Then you will begin to feel at home."
She sprang off the sofa, and taking Matilda's hand they mounted together the second flight of stairs; wide, uncarpeted, smooth, polished stairs they were; to the upper hall. Just at the head of the stairs Mrs. Laval opened a door. It let them into a pretty little room; little indeed only by comparison with other larger apartments of the house; it was of a pleasant size, with two great windows; and being a corner room, its windows looked out in two directions, over two several city views. Matilda had no time to examine them just then; her attention was absorbed by the room. It had a rich carpet; the hangings and covering of the bed were dark green; an elegant little toilet table was furnished with crystal, and the washcloset had painted green china dishes. There were pictures here too, and little foot cushions, and a beautiful chest of drawers, and a tall wardrobe for dresses. The room was full.
"This will do very nicely," said Mrs. Laval. "You wanted a south window, Matilda; here it is. I think you will like this room better than one of those large ones, darling; they are large enough for you to get lost in. See, here is the gas jet, when you want light; and here are matches, Matilda. And now you will have a place where you can be by yourself when you wish it; and at other times you can come down to me. You will feel at home, when you get established here, and have some dresses to hang up in that wardrobe. That is one of the first things you and I must attend to. I could not do it at Shadywalk. So come down now, dear, to my room, and we will get ready for dinner. Are you tired, love?"
Matilda met and answered the kiss that ended this speech, and went downstairs again a very contented child. However, all her getting ready for dinner that day consisted in a very thorough brushing of her short hair, and a little furtive endeavour to get rid of some specks of dust on her boots. She sat down then and waited, while Mrs. Laval changed her travelling dress, and Mrs. Bartholomew alternately assisted and talked to her. That elegant crimson satin robe swept round the room in a way that was very imposing to Matilda. She could not help feeling like a little brown thrush in the midst of a company of resplendent parrots and birds of paradise. But she did not much care. Only she thought it would be very pleasant to have the wardrobe upstairs furnished with a set of dresses to correspond somewhat with her new splendid surroundings. Mrs. Bartholomew had not spoken to her yet, nor anybody, except Mrs. Laval's mother. Matilda thought herself forgotten; but when the ladies were about to go downstairs, Mrs. Laval called her sister's attention to the subject.
"Judith, this is my new child."
Mrs. Bartholomew cast a comprehensive glance at Matilda, or all over her. Matilda could not have told whether she had looked at her until then.
"Where did you pick her up, Zara?"
"I did not pick her up," said Mrs. Laval, smiling at Matilda. "A wave wafted her into my arms."
"What sort of a wave?" said the other lady dryly.