“Bother that black thing,” she said indignantly as Miss Bassett entered, “here’s baby’s short things all bundled up in mistress’s best shawl. There ain’t a thing where I can lay my hand on it, and all the place in a litter already.” Miss Bassett did her best to remedy the muddle. She seized the brush out of Tommy’s hand, and put him spell-bound in the corner. She pulled off her sister’s shawl, which hung half over the arm of the sofa. She ranged the hats upon the bed and cleared the writing-table. “Matty! for heaven’s sake,” she said, “we have come to a nice tidy place, and they seem disposed to treat you handsomely. This must be one of the best rooms, don’t make a pigsty of it the very first day.” “I like that,” said Matilda languidly; she was a pretty, listless, fair young woman, with light hair, without any colour in it, and blue eyes, which were somewhat cold and steely. “Where have you been to, Verna? You went and left us all by ourselves, to get on as we could; and but for that nice fat woman who brought us upstairs, I do not know what we should have done. Of course, the children must be made comfortable. She said we were to have all the rooms in this end. When you can get them cleared away, and things put straight, I think I shall go to bed and have a good sleep.” “Then you don’t want to know anything about the family?” said her sister. “The family! oh, I suppose Marjory will come to see me by-and-by. I don’t want her till I have had a sleep, and I told the fat woman so. I shall cry when she comes, I know; and it tires me out to cry. I want a sleep first. I suppose you have seen them all; you always see everybody first. Are they nice? do they look good-natured? do you think they mean us to stay here, or what am I to do? Who is knocking at the door? Oh, I know; it is the fat woman with the tea.” “Hush, for heaven’s sake!” said Verna; “do think for a moment; everything depends on how you behave. Elvin, don’t let anyone in just yet. Matty, listen; old Mr. Heriot--your father-in-law--Charlie’s father, died this morning. The house is all in confusion.” “Died this morning!” Matilda’s lip began to quiver, her eyes filled suddenly with tears, her face acquired all at once the pitiful look of a child’s face in sudden trouble. “Oh,” she said, “must some one be always dying wherever we go? It is dreadful. I cannot bear to be in a house where there is some one dead. I never was so in my life. Verna, take the baby; take us away, take us away!”