One day Matilda was coming upstairs, after an uncomfortable lunch with Judy alone. She came slowly, for she was weak yet, thinking that Judy was a very difficult person to get along with. David had not appeared at the meal. Just as Matilda reached the head of the stairs at her own door, he came out of his room.
"Tilly," said he in a choked kind of voice, "come here! I want you."
A very odd way for David to speak, she thought; and looking at him she perceived that he had not his usual calmness and gravity, in face any more than in voice. He was flushed and agitated, and troubled, it seemed to her. Matilda obeyed his call instantly and he led the way into his room and shut the door. Then she waited for him to speak and tell what he wanted of her; but that seemed to be somehow difficult. David hesitated, struggling with himself, she could see; yet no words came. Matilda was too much in awe of him to speak first. David had been very kind to her lately; but he was older, older even than Norton, and much graver; and she did not know him so well. She waited.
As for David, he could hardly speak, or he had great difficulty in the choice of words. He fidgeted a little, taking one or two turns across the room, flushed and paled again, then faced Matilda and spoke with desperate resolution.
"Tilly, what do you know about—that person—I mean the One you think so much of, and call your Messiah?"
Matilda was extremely astonished. "Do you mean—Jesus?" she asked doubtfully and not a little afraid.
"Yes—yes. What do you know about him?"
Matilda hesitated.
"I know he loves me," she said softly.
"Loves you! How do you know that? how can you know that?"