“Do you think it would have taken as much as it has done to hunt the thimble this morning?”
“I never thought of that! So it does,” exclaimed Jennie, flushing into animation at the discovery.
“Besides,” continued Miss Lane, “did it never occur to you that it was sinful to be careless, even in little things?”
The look of weariness returned to her face.
“Miss Lane, I can’t do right, there is no use in trying! I do think I’ll try, but it never lasts.”
“May-be, you think you can do it without help, my dear?”
“I did not think of praying about such a little thing,” she answered, in a low tone, her face flushing.
“Little things make great things, my dear. Our lives are made up of little things. Constant, little vexations are harder to bear in patience than some great grief. If we want God’s help in our life, we must ask it for little things, because great things may happen only once in a life-time, and the little trials are of hourly occurrence. Which was harder to bear—giving up your Christmas tree, or the vexation about your thimble?”
“About the thimble,” answered Jennie immediately.
In the mean time they had reached the library. On the floor lay a beautifully bound and illustrated copy of Percy’s “Reliques”, with the print of Tan’s paws on its open leaves; and among tangled braids and silk lay the torn, soiled, half-finished slipper. Miss Lane gathered all up in silence, and continued the search for the thimble without a word.