CHAPTER XII.

The atmosphere of the house was very quiet during several successive days, as far as Matilda could observe it. The boys were extremely busy at school; and at home there was no public recurrence of Monday night's discussion. In private Mrs. Laval questioned Matilda very closely as to all the particulars of their Shadywalk expedition and all that she had known for weeks past of David's state of mind. She made no comment on the answers; and Matilda heard no more about the matter, until Sat.u.r.day morning came. Then when they were at breakfast, Mrs. Bartholomew said in a conciliating tone,

"David, my son, I don't see any necessity for that communication you are proposing to make to your uncles."

"I must go to see them, mamma."

"Certainly; that is all just and proper; but there is no occasion to talk to them about your change of views."

"Then they would believe me what I am not."

"Well--" said Mrs. Bartholomew; "they would a great deal rather believe so than know the truth."

"Would you have liked me to hide it from you, mamma?"

"I don't know; yes,--I think I should."

"What would have been your opinion of me by and by, when you came to find it out?"

"Just the truth," said Judy languidly. "Nothing can make you more of a sneak than you are already."

"One thing," said David firmly. "To get, or try to get, my uncles'

money under false pretences. You know they would never give it to a Christian."

"Judy," said Mrs. Lloyd, "another ill-bred word like that, and I send you from the table."

"But my dear boy," Mrs. Bartholomew went on, "you said Monday night that you were as much of a Jew as ever."

"The poor fellow was afraid of falling between two stools," said Judy; "so he clutched at 'em both, without thinking."

"And you are very young; and you do not know what your opinions may be in a few years more. And in the mean while, I am very unwilling that you should offend your uncles. _They_ would never get over it."

"I guess they wouldn't," said Judy. "What a time David will have with 'em!"

"Don't you see, my dear," pursued Mrs. Bartholomew, "it is unnecessary, and may be premature, and so unwise?"

"Mother," said David, evidently struggling with his feelings, "Messiah has said that he will not own those who do not own him."

"You'll get nothing out of him, mamma," said Judy. "He is one of Matilda's crazy kind. He is going to get rid of his money as fast as he can; and then he will turn chaplain of some jail, I should think; or else he will get a place as a Methodist parson and go poking into all the poor places of the earth; and then we shall see his name up in bills--'Preaching at the cross corners to-night--Rev. David Bartholomew will speak to the people from a candle box.'"

David changed colour once or twice, but he said nothing.

"Matilda Laval," said Judy sharply, "eat your breakfast! He won't want _you_ to help him preach."

Matilda wondered privately that the elders were so patient of Judy's tongue and so very silent themselves. They seemed to have thoughts not ready for utterance. At any rate the breakfast party broke up with Judy having the last word, and scattered their several ways; and Matilda heard no more on David's subject for some time. How the Sat.u.r.day's work issued she did not know; nothing was said about it in her hearing; and David looked as happy and as calm as he had done before Sat.u.r.day. She watched him, and she was sure of that.

One afternoon, it was a Sunday, and the ladies of the family were shut up in their rooms, resting or dressing, Matilda and David were alone in the little reception room. It was the hour before dinner; Matilda had come in from Sunday school and was sitting there with a new book, when David joined her. He sat down beside her, Matilda knew immediately, for a talk; and she shut up her book.

"Matilda, I have been reading about the men with the talents; the five talents, and the ten talents, you know?"

"Yes, I know."

"I am afraid I don't know all my talents."

"What do you mean, David?"

"The talents are whatever is given to us to use for G.o.d--and that is, whatever is given to us; for we may use it all for him."

"Yes, David."

"Well--that means a great deal, Tilly."

"Yes, I know it does."

"And one might easily have talents that one didn't think of; lying by so, and not used at all."

"I dare say they often do," Matilda said thoughtfully.

"I want you to help me, if you can."

"_I_ help _you?_" said Matilda very humbly.

"You have been longer in the way than I. You ought to know more about it."

"I am afraid I don't, though, David. But I guess Jesus will teach us, if we ask him."

"I am sure of that; but I think he means that we should help one another. What can I do, that I am not doing?"

Matilda thought a little, and then went upstairs and fetched the card of covenant and work of the old Band at Shadywalk. She put it in David's hands, and he studied it with great interest.

"There is help in this," he said. "There are things here I never thought of. 'Carrying the message'--of course I needn't wait till I have finished my studies and am grown up, to do that; it is easy to begin now."

"Are you going to do _that_, when you are grown up?" said Matilda a little timidly.

"As a profession, you mean. I don't know, Tilly; if the Lord pleases. I am all his anyway; I don't care how he uses me. What I want to know is my duty now. Then, Tilly, I have plenty of money."

"That's a very good thing," said Matilda smiling.

"What shall I do with it? Do your poor people want anything?"

"Sarah Staples? O no! they are getting on nicely. Sarah has learned how to sew on a machine, or partly learned; and she gets work to do now; and Mrs. Staples is stronger, and is able to take in washing. O no; they are getting along very well."

"There must be others," said David thoughtfully.

"Yes, plenty I suppose; only we don't know them, David! perhaps Sarah knows or her mother."

"What if we were to go and ask them?"