Poor Matilda was in some difficulty. She was furnishing the entertainment of the whole circle; for even Mrs. Bartholomew put down her paper, and Mrs. Laval was smiling, and Mrs. Lloyd was waiting, and the children were all open-eyed. But she had nothing to be ashamed of; and five dollars!—
"I was feeling glad about my watch," she began, "and about my picture—O so very glad! I think they have hardly been out of my mind all day."
"Picture? what picture?" said Judy.
"Hush!" said her grandmother.
"She didn't have any picture!" Judy went on. Matilda looked at her and said nothing.
"Did you?" said Judy. "What was it? Is it in a locket?"
"You can attend to her afterwards, Matilda," said Mrs. Lloyd. "At present you are engaged with me. There is nobody here but you and me."
Matilda sincerely wished it had been so; but she had several curious pairs of ears listening to her.
"Then I was glad, I believe, about all the pleasure of last night, and the Christmas tree, and my other presents; but that wasn't all. To-day has been so very pleasant, and this afternoon particularly."
"This afternoon!" cried Judy. "Why she was away at that horrid Sunday school."