The breakfast went on now delightfully. Matilda sometimes lifted her eyes to look at her opposite neighbours; they had a fascination for her. Judith was such a sprite of mischief, to judge from her looks; and David was so utterly unlike Norton. Norton was always acute and frank, outspoken when he had a mind, fearless and careless at all times. Fearless David might be, but not careless, unless his face belied him; he did not look as if it were often his pleasure to be outspoken, or to shew what he was thinking of. And that was the oddest of all, that he did not seem lighthearted. Matilda fancied he was proud; she was sure that he was reserved. In the family gatherings he was seen but not heard; and she thought he did not care much for what was going on. Nothing escaped Judy's ears or eyes; and nothing was serious with her which she could turn into fun. Her eyes gave a funny snap now and then when they met Matilda's eyes across the table, as if she had her own thoughts about Matilda and knew half of Matilda's thoughts about her. Matilda hoped she would not take it into her head to go to the Menagerie.
"Norton, I believe I'll go too," said Judith the next minute.
"Where?" said Norton.
"To the Menagerie. Where should I go?"
"All right," said Norton. "But if you are going to do me the honour to go with me, you must wait till I have brought Matilda back. I can't take care of both of you."
"I don't want you to take care of me," said Judy.
"I know that. But I am going to take care of Matilda."
"Why cannot you take care of both of them?" his grandmother asked, interrupting Judith.
"Make Judith tell first why she wants to go, grandmamma. She has been lots of times."
"Grandmamma," said Judy with her eyes snapping, "I want to see a new sort of wild animal, just come, and to see how it will look at the tigers."