Emily
did indeed reward her skill with affectionate thanks and kind
praises, but she interfered with her sleep and exercise, by her want
of consideration, and hardened herself more and more in her apathetic
selfishness.
Some weeks after Easter Lilias was arranging some books on a shelf in
the schoolroom, when she met with a crumpled piece of music-paper,
squeezed in behind the books. It proved to be Miss Weston's lost
song, creased, torn, dust-stained, and spoiled; she carried it to
Emily, who decided that nothing could be done but to copy it for
Alethea, and apologise for the disaster. Framing apologies was more
in Emily's way than copying music; and the former task, therefore,
devolved upon Lily, and occupied her all one afternoon, when she
ought to have been seeking a cure for the headache in the fresh air.
It was no cure to find the name of Emma Weston in the corner, and to
perceive how great and irreparable the loss of the paper was to her
friend. The thought of all her wrongs towards Alethea, caused more
than one large tear to fall, to blot the heads of her crotchets and
quavers, and thus give her all her work to do over again.
The letter that she wrote was so melancholy and repentant, that it
gave great pain to her kind friend, who thought illness alone could
account for the dejection apparent in the general tone of all her
expressions.
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