Матильда

           Thesquirrelswouldbecollectingthemallverysoon,MissHoneysaid,andstoringthemawaycarefullyforthebleakmonthsahead.

           "Youmeanyoulivedownhere?"Matildaasked.

           "Ido,"MissHoneyreplied,butshesaidnomore.

           MatildahadneveroncestoppedtothinkaboutwhereMissHoneymightbeliving.Shehadalwaysregardedherpurelyasateacher,apersonwhoturnedupoutofnowhereandtaughtatschoolandthenwentawayagain.Doanyofuschildren,shewondered,everstoptoaskourselveswhereourteachersgowhenschoolisoverfortheday?Dowewonderiftheylivealone,orifthereisamotherathomeorasisterorahusband?"Doyouliveallbyyourself,MissHoney?"sheasked.

           "Yes,"MissHoneysaid."Verymuchso."

           Theywerewalkingoverthedeepsun-bakedmud-tracksofthelaneandyouhadtowatchwhereyouputyourfeetifyoudidn’twanttotwistyourankle.Therewereafewsmallbirdsaroundinthehazelbranchesbutthatwasall.

           "It’sjustafarm-labourer’scottage,"MissHoneysaid."Youmustn’texpecttoomuchofit.We’renearlythere."

           Theycametoasmallgreengatehalf-buriedinthehedgeontherightandalmosthiddenbytheoverhanginghazelbranches.MissHoneypausedwithonehandonthegateandsaid,"Thereitis.That’swhereIlive."

           Matildasawanarrowdirt-pathleadingtoatinyred-brickcottage.Thecottagewassosmallitlookedmorelikeadoll’shousethanahumandwelling.Thebricksitwasbuiltofwereoldandcrumblyandverypalered.