They were fortunately of nearly the same figure, though, of course, there was a universe of difference in how those two figures were carried.
Matilda, the competent, skilled Matilda, was inexplicably incompetent at this function.

So clumsy, so nervous was she, that Mrs.De Peyster was moved to ask with a little irritation what was the matter.

Matilda hastily assured her mistress that there was nothing--nothing at all;--and buttoned a few more buttonholes over the wrong buttons.

As she followed the fully garbed and thickly veiled Mrs.De Peyster, now looking the most stately of stately housekeepers, down the stairway, her nervousness increased.
"I wish--I wish--" she began at the door.

"What _is_ the matter with you, Matilda ?" demanded Mrs.De Peyster severely.
"I--I rather wish you--you wouldn't go out, ma'am." "You are afraid I may be recognized ?" "No, I wasn't thinking of that, ma'am.