"I can't have lost it.—Reginald,—I say, Reginald, have you seen my purse? I thought it was in my pocket."
Reginald called out from his mother's bed-room, where he was fastening up a bracket for her little clock,—
"What do you say you've lost?"
"Oh, my purse, Reginald! what shall I do?" and Salome wildly turned out a drawer in the room which she was to share with Ada, and left it in dire confusion.
"Dear me, Miss Salome, pray don't make work like that," said Stevens. "I do wish you would learn to take care of your own things at least. You never was fit to look after money."
Salome was in despair, when Reginald came out of his mother's room holding the lost purse on high.
"O Reginald, where did you find it? You might have told me before. It was a shame. Where did you find it?"
"Under the table in the dining-room last evening," and he tossed the purse to her, saying, "It's not very heavy. But you should be careful, Salome; you are awfully careless."
"Don't be rude, Reginald; it's not for you to take me to task. Mind your own business, please."
"Hallo! there's a carriage. It's Uncle Loftus; yes, that it is," exclaimed Reginald. "He has not hurried himself to look after us, I must say."