“She has not, my child. Here is your thimble,” said Mr. Lee, handing the lost treasure to her.
“Why, father! Where did you get it?” exclaimed Flora, jumping out of her chair, and dancing with pleasure at the sight of the thimble.
“I found it, Flora.”
“Where did you find it, father?”
“I do not wish to tell you at present.”
“Then I was very careless. I will try to do better in future.”
“Do not reproach yourself, my child. I do not even know that you have been careless. On the contrary, I think you were very prudent in taking off the thimble before you opened the blind.”
“What do you mean, father? I’m sure I don’t understand you.”
“Perhaps you will understand me another time.”
During this conversation Mary’s face was very red, and she kept turning the leaves of the great book; though any one might have seen that she hardly looked at the pictures. She did not seem to take any interest in what was going on in the room, and expressed no pleasure at the finding of the thimble.