She moved the chairs, turned up the hearth-rug, and tumbled over her work-box in vain; the cotton could not be found. Presently she espied puss, under the sofa, busily employed tossing something about with her paw.
"Oh, you naughty kitty, you have got my spool," cried Emily, as she stooped down and caught hold of the thread which puss had entangled about the sofa legs; but kitty was in a playful mood and would not give up the cotton-spool at once, so Emily amused herself playing with the cat and thread for some time longer. At last, she remembered her gloves, and sitting down mended them in a few moments.
Had Emily's mother told her that she looked at her watch when the little girl first went for the thimble, and that she had passed exactly three-quarters of an hour in idleness, she would not have credited it.
After a while Mrs. Manvers sent Emily up stairs to get something for her. She stayed so long that her mother called, "Emily, what keeps you so?"
"Nothing, mamma; I stopped just a minute to look at my new sash, it is so pretty."
Ten minutes more were added to the wasted time. The next day Emily came home from school without any ticket for punctuality.
"How is this?" asked the mother; "you started from home in good time?"
"Yes, mother," returned the little girl, "but I stopped just a minute to speak to Sarah Randall, and I know our school-clock must be wrong, for it was half-past nine by it when I went in."
Mrs. Manvers took the trouble to walk around to the school and compare her watch with the clock; they agreed exactly, and thus she found her daughter had wasted half an hour that morning.
"Do you know your lessons, Emily?" she asked, after her return, as the little girl had been sitting for more than an hour with her books upon her lap.