"Yes, mamma; don't you remember we were obliged to send to Harris for them? as the parcel with the stationery did not come from Exeter as soon as we expected. And we noticed how much thinner they were, though they were the same sized books." "And did I not hear you say something about their having the same number of leaves, and therefore it must have been only the quality of the paper which made the difference?" "What a memory you have, mamma," answered Caroline, smiling. "I did not think you were taking the least notice of us, but I do remember saying so now, and, indeed, I very often wish the quality had been the same, for our writing looks horrid." "Do you happen to remember the number of leaves they contained, and if they were both alike?" "I know they had both the same number, and I think it was two-and-twenty, but I can tell you in a moment." And with her usual quickness of movement, Caroline unlocked her desk, drew forth her book, and ran over the leaves. "I am right--two-and-twenty." "And you are quite sure they had both the same number?" "Perfectly certain, mamma." "Then, by some incomprehensible means, two leaves have disappeared from Ellen's--here are only twenty. Have you ever torn a leaf out, Ellen?" "No, aunt, indeed I have not." "When did Miss Harcourt tell you to write this missing exercise?" "Last Monday week--I mean yesterday week." "Where did you write it, and what did you do with your book afterward?" "I wrote it at this table, aunt: I was so sorry I had to do it, when Edward depended so much on my going out with him, that I thought it would save time not to get my desk; and as soon as it was done, I left it open to dry. When I came home it was closed, and I put it away without looking at it, and the next morning the exercise was not there." "Who was in this room after you left it? by-the-by, it was the morning you went to Lady Helen's, Caroline; did you notice Ellen's book open, as she said? Why, what is the matter, my dear?" she added, observing that Caroline looked as if some sudden light had flashed upon her, and then, really grieved. "I am so very, _very_ sorry, mamma; I do believe it has been all my haste and carelessness that has caused Ellen all this unhappiness. I was in such a hurry to copy the poem for Lady Helen, that I tore a blank leaf out of an open book on the table, without thinking whose it was. In my haste the book fell to the ground, I picked it up to write on it, but never noticed if the fellow-leaf fell out, which it must have done, and no doubt Fanny carried it away with some other torn papers, which she asked me if she were to destroy. I am more sorry than I can tell you, Ellen; pray believe that I did not do it purposely."