Matilda was in such a confusion of thoughts that she did not know what she was passing in the street. Only, she did know when there were little street-sweepers at the crossings, and she tried to slip by without seeming to see them, and to put Norton between them and herself. Not a penny had she for one of them. And she would not have, until the month came round again. Fashion certainly cost. But she had the narrow-toed boots; she was glad of that.
"What ails you?" said Norton at last. "Are you cold?"
"No, Norton. Nothing ails me. I am thinking."
"About what? You think a great deal too much. Pink, we will go to the Park this afternoon; that will give you something to think about."
"Norton, we cannot this afternoon, you know. I have got to go to the dressmaker's."
"O so you have! What a nuisance. Well, to-morrow, then. And I say, Pink! there is another thing you have to think of--Christmas presents."
"Yes; we always have a great time. Only David and Judy do scowl; it is fun to see them."
"Don't they like Christmas presents?" said Matilda, very much bewildered.
"Christmas _presents_ all right; but not Christmas. You know they are Jews."
"Jews?" said Matilda. "What then? What has their being Jews to do with it?"
"Why!" said Norton, "don't you know? Do you think Jews love Christmas? You forget what Christmas is, don't you?"
"O--I remember. They don't believe in Christ," said Matilda in an awed and sorrowful tone.
"Of course. And that's a mild way to put it," rejoined Norton. "But grandmamma will always keep Christmas with all her might, and aunt Judy too; just because Davie and Judy don't like it, I believe. So we have times."
"But how comes it they don't like what you all like, and their mother?" Matilda asked.
"They have Jew relations, you see," said Norton; "and that goes very much against the grain with aunt Judy. There is some old Rabbi here in New York that is David's great uncle and makes much of him; and so David has been taught about Jewish things, and told, I suppose, that he must never forget he is a Jew; and he don't, I guess. Not often."
"Good? David Bartholomew? Not particularly. Yes, he is good in a way. He knows how to behave himself."
"He has a mind of his own," said Norton; "and if you try him, you will find he has a temper. I have seen him fight--I tell you!--like that Bengal tiger if _he_ was a Jew; when a fellow tried him a little too hard. His mother don't know, and you mustn't tell mamma. The boys let him alone now."