her love of praise was greater; and so she not only relaxed in her practice, but inwardly murmured at the very little praise she received from her mother. "How can you give mamma so much trouble, Caroline, when you know you can do so much better?" Herbert exclaimed, one day, when an attack of weakness, to which he was liable, had confined him to a sofa. Mrs. Hamilton, after giving her usual hour's lesson, in which Caroline had chosen to do nothing, had left her in very evident displeasure, and even Herbert was roused to most unusual indignation. "What is the use of practicing day after day?" was her angry reply; "I am sure I should play just as well if I practiced less." "You did not think so a month ago, Caroline." "No, because then I had something to practice for." "And have you nothing now?--Is mamma's approbation nothing?--Is the pleasure you give all of us, by your talent for music, nothing?--Oh, Caroline, why will you throw away so much real gratification, for the vain desire of universal admiration?" "There surely can be no harm, Herbert, in wishing to be universally loved and admired." "There is, when it makes you discontented and unhappy, and blind to the love and admiration of your home. What is the praise of strangers worth, compared to that of those who love you best?" "There is not much chance of my receiving either at present," was the cold reply. "Because you will not try for the one most easily and happily obtained; and even without thinking of praise, how can you be so ungrateful, as to repay all mamma's care and trouble by the indolence, coldness, and almost insolence, you have shown to-day? How few mothers of her rank would--" "You may spare your sermon, Herbert; for at this moment I am not disposed either to listen to or profit by it," interrupted Caroline, and she left the room in anger. A faint flush rose to the pale cheek of her brother, but he quickly conquered the natural irritation, and sought his mother, by every fond attention on his part, to remove the pain of Caroline's conduct.