"Now, my dears, have you your work prepared for the evening?" said Mrs.
Bernard, rising from the tea-table.
"Mine is quite ready, mamma," replied Emily.
"And mine too, I believe," said Louisa, opening her work-bag. "Oh! dear, no, I have used up all my thread. I quite forgot that. And where can my thimble be? I am sure I thought I had put it into my bag. Emily, have you seen my thimble? I dare say you have got it, you are so apt to take my things."
Emily. Oh! no, indeed, Louisa, you are mistaken, Sometimes, when I find them left about, I put them by for you, that they may not be lost.
"Well, that is the very thing that makes me think I have lost them," said Louisa, rather petulantly. "It is very tiresome of you, Emily. I do wish you never would touch any thing that belongs to me."
"Gently, gently, my Louisa," interrupted Mrs. Bernard: "you ought to feel much obliged to your sister for her kindness. If it were not for her attention, your carelessness would make a sad hole in your pocket- money. In this instance, however, Emily appears to be quite innocent of your loss: she does not seem to know any thing about the stray thimble. She has not, therefore, been the cause of your misfortune to-day."
Louisa rose from her seat, and leaving the room, exclaimed: "I dare say
I shall find it in a minute or two."
She was, however, absent more than a quarter of an hour, and at length returned, without having found her thimble.
"Well, mamma, it is a most extraordinary thing," said she: "I cannot think what is become of it. It is very tiresome that things should get lost so."
Mrs. B. It is rather singular that Emily seldom meets with these misfortunes, from which you so frequently suffer, Louisa.