"There is no harm in that, my child. I am glad to have you learn to do every thing for yourself; but you must be neat and careful about it, and try always to look like a lady. I suppose, however, you were in a great hurry to find your thimble: so I will excuse you this time. Now go back to your room and make yourself neat, and then we will have prayers."
As Lucy went back to her room, she was conscious of a new feeling in regard to what she had done. She had often before been terrified at the consequences of wrong-doing; but of the action itself she had thought very little. But now, as she thought of having disobeyed and deceived kind Cousin Deborah, she felt sorry for and ashamed of her sin, as well as alarmed for the punishment she expected to receive whenever the thimble should be missed. And she felt that she should continue to be sorry, even if she were never punished at all.
"Oh, if I could only find it," she thought, "I would never, never be so naughty again."
She made herself as neat as she could, and was just finishing her dressing operations, when Anne entered.
"So, my lady, you are grown an early riser, and very independent, to be sure," said she, not very well pleased. "How long since you were so grand?"
"Why, Anne, you know I always dressed myself at Aunt Bernard's. And Cousin Debby says it is a very good thing. But I was in such a hurry this morning that I forgot to wash my hands or buckle my shoes; and Cousin Debby sent me back. Please get me a clean cap, Anne."
"Ay, you need one. See how you have tumbled your ruffles by throwing your cap down anyhow, instead of setting it tidily on the top of a chair-post, or some such place. What would Mrs. Bernard say to that, think you?"
"She would box my ears, I suppose," said Lucy: "so I am very glad she is not here. Don't be cross, please, Anne. I do like you to dress me; but, you know, I must do as Cousin Debby says."
"Of course you must," replied Anne, in a mollified tone,—"and all the more that she is so good to you. But I can tell you, Lady Lucy, she can be cruel strict, too. You ought to hear how she talked to Jenny housemaid because she told her a fib about the linen. She made her cry, I promise you; and she said she could put up with any thing better than a lie: so you must be careful, Lady Lucy. But, goodness gracious me, child! What is the matter, that you turn so pale?"
"Oh, Anne, I have done such a dreadful thing!" said poor Lucy. "And I have told Cousin Debby a lie, too! Oh, what shall I do?"