"My good woman?—O, you mean Mrs. Staples. She hasn't moved in yet?"
"No! we waited for you to get well."
"Waited all this while!" said Matilda. "David, I wonder when I shall be able to go out?"
"Not in a good while, Tilly, to any such entertainment as that. I dare say you can go driving in the Park in two or three weeks."
"But she cannot wait all that while!" said Matilda; and then she stopped. If not, then the moving of Mrs. Staples, and all the delight of the supper to be prepared for her, and the pleasure of seeing her pleasure, must be for others; not for the little planner and contriver of the whole. For a minute Matilda felt as if she could not give it up; this rare and exquisite joy; such a chance might not come again in a very long while. She wanted to see how the stove would work; she wanted to hear the kettle sing, and to set the table with the new cups and saucers, and to make the tea that first time, and give the in comers a welcome. Could all that be lost? It seemed very hard. Matilda's eyes filled with tears.
"What is the matter?" said David kindly.
Matilda struggled to speak. She knew what she must say; but at first she could hardly get the words out. She hesitated, and David repeated his question.
"It won't do for them to wait so long," she said, lifting her eyes to his face.
"Who? your poor people there? Well, it does seem a pity, looking at the place where they are now."
"It won't do," Matilda repeated. "It is best for them to go right in, David. But I can't manage it. I can't do anything."