She had lately seen a beautiful print{3} of the king of France taking leave of his family; and, as Mad. de Rosier was struck with it, she wished to have bought it for her; but she now considered that a guinea, which was the price of the print, might be better bestowed on this poor, little, ingenious, industrious boy; so she begged her mother to send to the repository for one of his boxes. The servants were all busy, and Matilda did not receive her box till the next morning. {Footnote 3: By Egginton.} Herbert was reading to Mad. de Rosier when the servant brought the box into the room. Favoretta got up to look at it, and immediately Herbert's eye glanced from his book: in spite of all his endeavours to command his attention, he heard the exclamations of "Beautiful!--How smooth!--like tortoise-shell!--What can it be made of?" "My dear Herbert, shut the book," said Mad. de Rosier, "if your head be in that box. Never read one moment after you have ceased to attend." "It is my fault," said Matilda; "I will put the box out of the way till he has finished reading." When Herbert had recalled his wandering thoughts, and had fixed his mind upon what he was about, Mad. de Rosier put her hand upon the book--he started--"Now let us see the _beautiful_ box," said she. After it had passed through Favoretta and Herbert's impatient hands, Matilda, who had scarcely looked at it herself, took it to the window, to give it a sober examination. "It is not made of paper, or pasteboard, and it is not the colour of tortoise-shell," said Matilda: "I never saw any thing like it before; I wonder what it can be made of?" Herbert, at this question, unperceived by Matilda, who was examining the box very earnestly, seized the lid, which was lying upon the table, and ran out of the room; he returned in a few minutes, and presented the lid to Matilda. "I can tell you one thing, Matilda," said he, with an important face--"it is an animal--an animal substance, I mean." "Oh, Herbert," cried Matilda, "what have you been doing?--you have blackened the corner of the box." "Only the least bit in the world," said Herbert, "to try an experiment. I only put one corner to the candle that Isabella had lighted to seal her letter." "My dear Herbert, how could you burn your sister's box?" expostulated Madame de Rosier: "I thought you did not love mischief." "Mischief!--no, indeed; I thought you would be pleased that I remembered how to distinguish animal from vegetable substances. You know, the day that my hair was on fire, you told me how to do that; and Matilda wanted to know what the box was made of; so I tried." "Well," said Matilda, good-naturedly, "you have not done me much harm." "But another time," said Mad. de Rosier, "don't burn a box that costs a guinea to try an experiment; and, above all things, never, upon any account, take what is not your own."