EDWARD.
No, but the careless fellow would have been punished; and that would have been some comfort: such a loss would vex my very heart.
EMILIA.
It is, indeed, very unfortunate.
CHARLES.
No, I do not call it a misfortune, sister.
EMILIA.
How, do not you think that a misfortune?
CHARLES.
You make me smile—I shall soon forget my drawing, it was only a trial of temper; my mother’s sickness was a misfortune, indeed, and the poor woman who had lost her child had reason to weep; but what admits of a remedy, should not be called a misfortune, it is only a momentary vexation. And after all, I was the person to blame, it was I who was careless; if I had locked up my drawing, or shut the window myself, this accident would not have happened.