"Let me see," said Cousin Debby. "Why, that is a deep prick! You had better not sew any more just now, lest it should inflame and be troublesome. Run and get your hood, and we will walk down to the lodge."
Lucy's heart sank deeper still; but she dared not disobey. The best way would have been to tell the plain truth and pick up the thimble openly; but this she dared not do. She had been so severely treated for the least fault, that she had learned the habit of concealing every thing. She went up-stairs and put on her hood, expecting all the time to hear her name sharply called and feel her poor little fingers and arms tingle and burn from the application of a whalebone or ratan. Nothing of the sort happened, however.
When she came down, Cousin Debby was standing talking with the old gardener about some plants.
"You will be sure and remember, Robbins?" said she.
"Yes, madam,—oh, yes: I never forgets any thing," said Robbins.
"I dare say he will never think of it again," said Cousin Debby, as they walked away. "The poor old man grows more and more forgetful every day."
Lucy had a pleasant walk, and enjoyed very much seeing the dear little babies and holding one of them in her arms. The good woman lamented her want of baby-clothes; and Cousin Debby promised to see what she could find for them.
"You did not tell her that I was making a petticoat for the baby," Lucy ventured to observe, as they left the lodge to return home.
"No," replied Cousin Debby: "I thought it better to wait till the petticoat was finished. Something might happen to prevent your sewing, or you might be wanting in perseverance and then the poor woman would be disappointed. Do you know the meaning of 'perseverance'?"
"No, ma'am."