Matilda could not imagine why Elizabeth had not gone home, instead of waiting all this time at the station-house. It must be past Mrs. Storey's dinner hour, and there seemed some reason to fear that Elizabeth meant to stay for the rest of the day. If she did, however, she must invite herself, Matilda resolved; for it was far from being her own inclination to have any guest on this particular occasion;--the day of her husband's return after an absence of half a week,--the terrible first absence after a marriage of six weeks. They had met only for one hour in the forenoon; dinner-time would soon bring him home, and it would be too provoking to have a third person to intrude, especially if that third person were Elizabeth, of whom the Lieutenant was more fond than his wife could at all account for. Elizabeth might see, if she chose, that she was unwelcome; for Matilda had no intention of concealing the fact. She neither sat down, nor asked Elizabeth to do so; but, throwing off her bonnet, and stirring the fire, employed herself next in rectifying the time-piece by her own watch. "My dear," Elizabeth began, strenuously warming herself. "I wish she would not call me 'my dear,'" thought Matilda; "it is so old maidish." But Matilda might have known that a wife of twenty is very naturally called 'my dear' by a sister-in-law of thirty-five. "My dear," resumed Elizabeth, "you talked of going to see Mr. Pim's school. We may as well go together. Fix your time." Matilda could not fix any time at present. Her husband had been absent, and her engagements must depend on his for some days to come. "Very well. I know he is always out between ten and one o'clock; and that will be your time. I shall expect you some morning soon, between ten and twelve, as the school breaks up at noon. It lies straight past our door; but if you wish me to call you, I can easily come up." "O, by no means, thank you. But we shall meet before the end of the week, and can fix all about it. Mr. Pim wishes us not to go till the end of the week, when the children will have their catechism at their tongues' ends." "As to meeting, I do not know," replied Elizabeth. "I am going to be very busy for some days. And indeed it is time I was at home now; for I promised my mother to cut out a cap for her before dark." And Elizabeth extended her hand to take her muff. "Indeed!" cried Matilda, briskly. "Let me walk part of the way home with you. And you must allow me to help you with your work. You know I have nothing to do, and----" "So it seems, indeed," replied Elizabeth, looking round with a supercilious smile, upon the bare work-table, the perfectly-arranged book shelves, and the closed piano, which collectively presented a picture of a most bride-like lack of occupation. "If you are inclined to send up your mother's handkerchiefs," said Matilda, coldly, "it will give me great pleasure to make them."