CHAPTER VII.
Matilda was slow in getting over her sickness. It would not do to thinkof lessons or let her do anything that would weary her. Instead ofthat, she was taken to drive, and supplied with materials and patternsfor worsted work, and had books at command. Whatever would please her,in short; at least whatever Mrs. Laval could think of; for Matilda madeno demands on anybody. She was very happy; feeling well but weak, justso as to draw out everybody's kindness; and obliged to be quiet enoughto thoroughly enjoy her happiness. She made great progress in theaffections of the family during this rime; they found a sweetness andgrace and modesty in her that presently seemed like to make her thehouse darling. "She is not selfish," said Mrs. Lloyd. "She is really avery graceful little thing," said Mrs. Bartholomew. "She is honest,"said David. "She is the gentlest, most dutiful child in the world,"said Mrs. Laval; but Mrs. Laval did not say much about it. She wasgrowing excessively fond of Matilda. Norton declared she was a brick.Judy said nothing. Then they would begin again. "She is a thoroughlycourteous child," said Mrs. Lloyd. "I do think she is a good littlething," said Mrs. Bartholomew. "She has her own opinions," said Norton,who liked her the better for it. "They are not bad opinions either,"remarked David.
"Aren't they!" put in Judy. "Wise and _extremely_ courteous she wasabout the liqueur glasses, don't you think so?"
"What about the liqueur glasses?" Mrs. Lloyd demanded; and thoughNorton and David both tried to stop the recital, out it would come, forthe second time. Judy would not be stopped. Mrs. Lloyd seemed ratherserious but by no means as much disgusted as Judy would have liked.
"She had her own opinions, as Norton says," David remarked; "but shebehaved perfectly well about the whole affair; perfectly _courteous_,Judy."
"Very ridiculous, though, for such a child," his mother added.
"How should she be courteous?" said Judy, scornfully. "She has had nosort of bringing up."
"I should be glad to see you as courteous, and as graceful about it,"said Mrs. Bartholomew. Whereat Judy tossed her head spitefully andmeditated mischief.
They did not know how it was. All was true they had said respectingMatilda's manners; and this was the secret of them; she was most simplytrying to live up to her motto. For this Matilda studied her Bible,watched, and prayed. It was not herself she was thinking of, or tryingto please; her obedience and her pleasantness and her smallest actionswere full of the very spirit of reverence and good-will; no wonder itwas all done gracefully. The days and weeks of sickness and feeblenesshad been a good time for the little girl, and the kindness she receivedmade her heart very tender. She sought ways to please; above all, waysto please God. It was in doing "all in the name of the Lord Jesus" thather manners became so lovely and her presence so welcome to almost allthe family; and her happy little face was an attraction for even oldMrs. Lloyd, who did not confess to finding many things in the wholeworld attractive now. But Judy vowed in secret she would disturb thisopinion of Matilda, if she could manage it.
So she chose her time. Mrs. Lloyd, and indeed all the elders of thefamily, were extremely particular and punctilious about table manners;exacting the utmost care and elegance in everything that was done. OneSunday there was company at dinner; only one or two gentlemen who werefamiliar friends, however, so that the young people were not debarredtheir weekly pleasure and privilege of dining with their grandmother.Judy managed to place herself next to Matilda, and held her position,though Norton as openly as he dared reminded her she had no right to bethere. It was impossible to make a disturbance and he was obliged togive up the point. Matilda wondered at what she supposed an uncommonmark of favour in Judy; and resolved to be as nice a neighbour as shecould. There was not much chance, for of course talking, except a lowword now and then, was out of the question. It happened that one of theservants was for some reason out of the way, and there was not theusual abundant service of the table. Just when everybody was helped,Judy somewhat officiously handed somebody's plate to Matilda to bepassed for some oysters. The plate came back to her full; it had meatand gravy and oysters and maccaroni on it, and was heavy as well asfull. Carefully giving it, as she thought, into Judy's hand, Matildawas dismayed to find it seemingly slip from her own; and down it went,taking impartially Judy's dress and her own in its way. Turkey gravyand oysters lodged on Judy's blue silk; while the maccaroni, rich withbutter and cheese, made an impression never to be effaced on Matilda'scrimson. The little girl absolutely grew pale as she looked down at thedisastrous state of things, and then up at Judy. Judy's eyes weresnapping.
"Did I do that?" said Matilda, in a bewildered consciousness that shehad _not_ done it.
"O, I guess not," replied Judy; in a tone which civilly said, "Ofcourse you did!" Matilda dared not look at anybody else.
"You had better go up and change your dress, Matilda," said Mrs. Lavalgravely. And Matilda went, greatly disconcerted. She was a very daintychild herself; rudeness and awkwardness were almost as abhorrent to heras they were even to Mrs. Lloyd; and now she felt that she haddisgraced herself, mortified Mrs. Laval, and displeased the old lady;besides drawing down the censure and slighting remark of Mrs.Bartholomew. But _had_ she done the thing? She was supposed to havedone it, that was clear, from the tone of Mrs. Lloyd's voice and fromMrs. Laval's command, as well as from Judy's words; that young ladyherself had kept her place in the dining room, for all that appeared.And Matilda's beautiful crimson dress was spoiled. No doubt about it;when she had got it off and looked at it she saw that the butter andcheese had done their work too thoroughly to leave any hope that itmight be undone. No acid or French chalk would be of any avail there.Poor Matilda! she was very much dismayed. She had a particular fancyfor the colour of that dress; it was a beautiful shade; and Mrs. Lavalliked it; and Matilda wondered if she was displeased; and wondered withstill increasing persuasion that the fault had not lain with her. Butwho could prove that? And as it was, the charge of gross carelessnessand inelegance lay at her door; a charge above others that she wasunwilling to bear.
She would not venture down to the dining-room again, not knowingwhether she would be welcome; she sat in the dark thinking, and cryinga little. But when there came a knock at her door, she got rid of alltraces of tears. There was Norton, who had brought her some Chantillycake which she was very fond of; and close behind him stood David,smiling, and bearing on a plate a great slice of ice cream. Matilda'shands were both filled.
"Oh thank you!" she said from the bottom of her heart; "O how kind youare!" Then as she glanced again at David's benign face, she halfexclaimed, "Did I do that?"
"No," said David, the smile vanishing.
"She didn't?" cried Norton. "Who did?"
"Judy."
"Judy!" echoed Norton.
"I _thought_ I didn't do it," said Matilda, forgetting her ice cream;"but I was so bewildered, and Judy seemed to think it was I--"
"I saw the whole thing," said David. "It was not you. You were not toblame at all. Your fingers had unclosed from the plate before hers did."
"Did she do it on purpose?" said Norton wrathfully, "and let Pink bearthe blame? She shan't bear it two minutes longer!"
He was rushing away, but Matilda made one spring and planted herselfright in his way.
"What are you going to do?"
"Set this thing to rights."
"How?"
"How? Why by telling the truth."
"Stop, Norton; there is company."
"All the more reason. Should you be disgraced before company?"
"Hush, Norton, stop," said Matilda eagerly, and getting both her platesin one hand that she might lay hold of him with the other. "Youmustn't, Norton. Don't stir, or you'll make me throw down my ice cream,and then I _shall_ be disgraced."
To prevent the possibility of such a catastrophe, David took the platesfrom her, and Matilda grasped Norton with both her little hands.
"I'm going!" he said.
"No, you aren't."
"I am, I tell you, Pink. I'll not stand by and allow it. I
'll exposeJudy and clear you, before everybody, this minute."
"Stop, Norton. You can't do it. Listen to me. You mustn't."
"Now is the very time."
"You mustn't do it at all. I'll tell mamma. I may do that; but you mustnot say one word about Judy to anybody. I shall get mamma to keep quiettoo. You must, Norton."
"She's right, old fellow, that this isn't the time," said David."Grandmamma would stop your argument very short."
"And you must not say a word, Norton. For my sake! You couldn't proveanything, Norton, and it would only make mischief and do harm. Let italone, and then it is nothing."
"Nothing!" cried Norton in great dudgeon.
"Nothing but a little inconvenience to me, and that will be all over byto-morrow. Promise me, Norton; and then I can eat my ice cream inpeace."
"You must promise quickly then," said David, "for it is beginning tomelt."
Norton scolded and grumbled yet, however Matilda saw that she mighttake her cake and cream; and she eat it looking at him, and enjoying itvery much.
"What's the use of being right then," said Norton, "if nobody is toknow it? And you are provoking, Pink! you look just as if nothing wasthe matter."
"Nothing is the matter, thank you," said the little girl.
"You don't look angry."
"I don't think I am angry."
"You ought to be."
"I think I'm too happy to be angry," said Matilda, finishing her ice.And she looked so cool that Norton could not keep hot. He and Davidtook her empty plates away for her; and so ended that day's trouble.Nevertheless, fruits of it appeared afterwards.
A little while after this Sunday, Norton sickened with the same feverMatilda had had. There followed a long, very quiet time, during whichshe was much left to herself. Mrs. Laval was in the sick room; for ifshe was not a skilled nurse, she was a most affectionate mother; and inthe cases of both her children, she either did herself or watched overeverything that was done. Matilda was not allowed to be with Norton andhelp, which she would have liked; it was thought that her strength wasnot sufficiently recovered. So the little girl lived in her room; creptdown and up for her meals; was as quiet as a mouse; and endured not alittle mischief from Judy's hands. Judy revelled. She was as full oflife as of mischief, and she made Matilda her butt. The childrengenerally dining together alone, she had a fair field; for David couldnot interpose to prevent Judy's sly provocations. They were too sly,and too quick and shifting, and too various and unlooked for. Sometimesshe patronized Matilda, as a little country girl; sometimes sheadmonished her, very unnecessarily, in the same character; sometimesJudy took a tone more offensive still and accused her of artfulpractices to gain Mrs. Laval's favour. David and others were present;but they did not always see what was going on; or if they attempted toput Judy in order, the attempt was too apt to provoke more trouble thanit stopped. Matilda bore a good deal of trial, those weeks; for she wasnaturally a spirited child, ready to resent injuries; and besides that,she was a clever child, quite able to return Judy's sharp speeches. Shesaid very little to them, however, except what was good-humoured. Hercheek flushed now and then; sometimes her little head took its old seton her shoulders, extremely expressive, and equally graceful andunconscious; the boys would laugh, and Judy toss her own head in adifferent fashion. These things gave Matilda a good deal of work in herown room. She used to hunt out passages that spoke of forgiveness andkindness and the management of the tongue and the bridling of anger;and then she used to pray over them, and not once or twice. So Judynever could prevail much with her. However, Matilda wished for manyreasons that Norton would get strong and well again and Mrs. Laval bein her old place. As he grew better, she began to be very much in hisroom; taking care of him, reading or talking to him, and having verynice times planning garden for Briery Bank when they should go home.That would not be early this year, Norton said he was afraid, becauseof his school; but at any rate they would run up at the Easter holidaysand set things in train.
One day Matilda was coming upstairs, after an uncomfortable lunch withJudy alone. She came slowly, for she was weak yet, thinking that Judywas a very difficult person to get along with. David had not appearedat the meal. Just as Matilda reached the head of the stairs at her owndoor, 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 sheperceived that he had not his usual calmness and gravity, in face anymore than in voice. He was flushed and agitated, and troubled, itseemed to her. Matilda obeyed his call instantly and he led the wayinto his room and shut the door. Then she waited for him to speak andtell what he wanted of her; but that seemed to be somehow difficult.David hesitated, struggling with himself, she could see; yet no wordscame. Matilda was too much in awe of him to speak first. David had beenvery kind to her lately; but he was older, older even than Norton, andmuch graver; and she did not know him so well. She waited.
As for David, he could hardly speak, or he had great difficulty in thechoice of words. He fidgeted a little, taking one or two turns acrossthe room, flushed and paled again, then faced Matilda and spoke withdesperate resolution.
"Tilly, what do you know about--that person--I mean the One you thinkso much of, and call your Messiah?"
Matilda was extremely astonished. "Do you mean--Jesus?" she askeddoubtfully 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?"
"Because I love him, David; and I know he loves me. He has said so."
"Said so! I beg your pardon. How has be said so?"
"In a great many places. And in a great many ways, David. He died forme."
"Died!" repeated David again; then controlling his excitement, whichwas very great, he again asked Matilda's pardon. "What do you mean bysaying he died for you? for _you_, or anybody? He was put to death bythe Romans, because he set himself up for a king."
"He didn't," said Matilda eagerly; "not in the way the people said. Hetold Pilate himself that his kingdom was not of this world; and he toldthe Jews to pay tribute to Caesar. They accused him for envy."
"Anyhow, he was put to death like any other criminal. Why should yousay he died _for you?_ Have you any reason?"
"Have you got a Bible here, David?"
"Not your Bible. I have the Scriptures of Moses and the prophets."
"Those are what Jesus said told about him. But just let me run and getmy Bible, David; I want to shew you something. I'll be back in oneminute."
He made no objection; and Matilda rushed out to her own room, threw offher cloak and hat, dropped down on her knees for one instant to praythat the Lord would teach her what to say to David; then seized herBible and ran back to him. She was almost as excited now, outwardly, ashe seemed; her little fingers trembled as she turned the leaves over.
"See here, David," she said. "That night, the night of the passover,you know; the night before he died; he was at supper with the twelvedisciples--"
"What twelve disciples?"
"Those who were always with him; they were the apostles afterwards.Look here. He broke bread and told them to eat it, and said it was hisbody broken for them; and then a cup of wine; and this is what he saidabout that. See."
"Read it," said David.
"'This is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for theremission of sins.' Testament is the same word as covenant, Mr.Wharncliffe says."
"Covenant!" cried David.
"Yes. In this other place he says, 'This cup is the new testament orcovenant, in my blood, which is shed for you.' That is the new covenantthat Jeremiah promised."
"Jeremiah!" cried David again; "what do you know of Jeremiah? Is _that_in your Bible?"
"Certainly it is. Isaiah and Jeremiah, and all of them."
"But what do you mean about that ne
w covenant? you don't know what youare talking of, Tilly."
"O yes, I do, David. Look here; here is the place in Jeremiah; we hadall about this in our lesson last Sunday. Look here, David. 'Behold,the days come, saith the Lord, that I will make a new covenant with thehouse of Israel and with the house of Judah; not according to thecovenant that I made with their fathers, in the day that I took them bythe hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt; which my covenant theybrake, although I was a husband unto them, saith the Lord.
"'But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house ofIsrael; After those days, saith the Lord, I will put my law in theirinward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, andthey shall be my people. And they shall teach no more every man hisneighbour, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord: for theyshall all know me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them,saith the Lord: for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remembertheir sin no more.'"
Matilda stopped and looked up at David.
"I know all that very well," he replied; "that will be in the days ofMessiah."
"Jesus said it was then. He said, 'This cup is the new covenant _in myblood_.'"
"How could that be? what meaning is there in that?"
"Why, David,--don't you see? His blood did it."
"Did what?"
"Why! bought forgiveness for us, so that God could give us the newcovenant. It is a covenant to forgive us and make us holy for Jesus'sake. Mr. Wharncliffe was explaining it only last Sunday."
"I don't want to hear what Mr. Wharncliffe said. Tell me only what youknow."
"Well, David, I know it's all true."
"Tilly, how can you?"
"Why, David,--I know Jesus has taken away my sins; and I think he iswriting his laws on my heart."
"But Tilly!" David exclaimed with a sort of anxious impatience, "youdon't know what you are talking about. You mean that this--Jesus--wasour Messiah."
"Yes," said Matilda. "He said he was."
"_He_ said he was?" exclaimed David.
"Yes, to be sure he did."
"But you don't know. The Scriptures of the prophets declare thatMessiah will be a great king."
"Yes," Matilda answered slowly, looking at him. "Jesus is a great King."
"No!" said David quickly. "He was crucified."
"But he rose again, and went back to heaven."
"They stole his body away," said David, "and made believe he was risen."
"O no, that was what the priests told the soldiers to say; but we_know_ he rose again, David, for they saw him--the apostles and MaryMagdalene, and all of them; over and over again."
"But the Scriptures say he shall, I mean Messiah, he shall conquer theenemies of Israel and deliver us."
"I think that means the _true_ Israel," said Matilda.
"The true Israel!" said David. "Who are the true Israel? I am one ofthem. Abraham's children."
The boy spoke proudly, defiantly, as if he felt the noble blood ofkings and prophets in his veins, and the inheritance his own. Matildafound it very difficult to go on. So far she had been able to answerhim, having given attention to her Sunday school teaching and thatteaching having lately run in a course fitted to instruct her on someof the points that David started. But she did not know what to say now.She was silent.
"Look here," said David in the same tone. He seized his Bible which layat hand, and turning over the leaves stopped at the prophecy of Daniel,and read, not after the common English version--
"'I was seeing in the visions of the night, and lo, with the clouds ofthe heavens as a son of man was one coming, and unto the Ancient ofDays he hath come, and before him they have brought him near. And tohim is given dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, and all peoples,nations and languages do serve him; his dominion is a dominionage-during, that passeth not away, and his kingdom that which is notdestroyed.'" David read, and paused, and looked up at Matilda.
"Yes," said Matilda nodding; "that is just what the angel said aboutJesus."
"What angel?"
"The angel that came to tell that he was coming. See, David,wait,--I'll find it; here it is! 'He shall be great; and shall becalled the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God shall give unto him thethrone of his father David; _and he shall reign over the house of Jacobfor ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end_.'" And in her turnMatilda looked up at David.
"But what kingdom has _he?_" David asked, between anxiously andscornfully.
"Why, I remember he said, 'All power is given unto me, in heaven and inearth.'"
"It don't shew," said David. "Christians are a small part of the world,and not the strongest part by any means."
"No, I didn't say they were. I only said Jesus is the King."
"And I say again, Tilly; you have nothing but words to shew for it. Howis he king?"
"O but, David, wait; look here,--I'll find the place in a minute ortwo--"
She sought it eagerly, but it took a little while to find any of thewords she wanted. David waited patiently, having evidently much on hismind. At last Matilda's face lighted up.
"Here, David; this is what I mean; I was afraid to put it in my ownwords. 'And when he was demanded of the Pharisees, when the kingdom ofGod should come,'--you see they thought as you do;--'he answered themand said, The kingdom of God cometh not with observation; neither shallthey say, Lo, here! or Lo, there! for, behold, the kingdom of God iswithin you.' That's it, David, don't you see? He is king in people'shearts."
"The Messiah is to reign in another fashion than that," David returned."The Targum says, 'a King shall arise from Jacob, and Messiah beexalted from Israel; then he shall kill the great ones of Moab, and heshall rule over all the children of men;' and 'to him are all thekingdoms of earth to be subjected.' The Lord will destroy his enemieswho rise to put his people to shame; he will thunder upon them with aloud voice from the heavens; the Lord shall exact vengeance from Magog,and from the army of the thundering nations who come with him from theends of the earth, and he will give strength to his King, and magnifythe kingdom of his Messiah.'"
"That isn't out of the Bible, is it?" said Matilda, bewildered.
"No; it's the Targums."
"I don't know what the Targum is."
"It is a book, or books rather, of the words of our wise Rabbis;explaining the Scripture."
"I don't know anything but the Bible," said Matilda meekly; "and Idon't know but a little of that."
"Well, you see, Tilly, that _our_ Messiah is to be King in a grandfashion, and rule over all kingdoms; and make his people rule with him."
"O _that's_ like the New Testament!" Matilda cried.
"What part of it?"
"I don't know exactly where it is; I'll look; but David, Jesus is goingto reign so by and by, I know."
"You know!" said David.
"Yes; for he said so."
"Who said so?"
"Why, Jesus. Here--stop!--no, here it is, one place. Listen, David,just to this. 'And as they heard these things, he added and spake aparable, because he was nigh to Jerusalem, and because they thoughtthat the kingdom of God should immediately appear.'--That's what youthought, David."
"Well, but,--" David began.
"Just listen. 'He said therefore, A certain nobleman went into a farcountry to receive for himself a kingdom and to return.'"
"What's that?" said David.
"Why, don't you understand?"
"No. Not what it has to do with what I was talking about."
"Why, David, the far country is heaven; and Jesus is gone there untilthe kingdom is ready, or till he is ready to take it."
"You have nothing but words to shew for it."
"No, of course; but they are God's words, David; so they are true."
"Take care!" said he, and his dark eye fired and glowed; "you mustn'ttalk so. You know I don't believe that."
"Believe what?
"That _his_ words are God's words."
"But don't you remember," said Matilda,
to whom the words seemed tocome in her puzzle, to help her out,--"don't you remember in thePsalms--"
"The Psalms of David?"
"Yes, to be sure, the Psalms of David; don't you remember how itsays--Oh, I wish I could find it!--something about 'sitting at my righthand' till his enemies shall be,--I forget what."
"I know!" said David with a curious change of countenance; and in hisown book he immediately turned to the place.
"'The affirmation of Jehovah to my Lord: Sit at my right hand, till Imake thine enemies thy footstool.'"
"That's it!" cried Matilda. "Jesus is there now, and by and by he iscoming to take the kingdom."
It did not seem as if David heard her; so deep was his pondering overthe passage he had just read. Little Matilda watched him curiously; hisbrow was dark, with what sort of thoughts she could not guess; his eyesometimes flashed and at other times grew intense with looking intowhat he was studying. But what struck Matilda most was the look oftrouble; the expression of grave care upon his lip. He lifted up hishead at last, and his eye met her eye, and he was going to speak; whenthe clang of the dinner bell pealed through the house. That day, forsome reason, the children were to dine with their elders. Mrs. Lloydwas particular about attendance at the minute; David and Matilda partedwith one consent and without another word, to make themselves ready togo down.