"You would like it very much, but you are afraid I shall not permit you to go--is that the meaning of your change of countenance?" asked her mother, half smiling. "I am afraid of myself, mamma; for I fear I am always more ill-tempered and proud after any such pleasure as going to Moorlands would be." "Would you rather not go, then?" "I can not say quite that, mamma; I should like it very much, if I could but be sure of myself afterward." "Did you ever feel such a doubt of yourself before, Caroline, when going to stay with Annie?" "No, mamma; I seem to have thought a great deal more the last few days, and not to feel half so sure of myself." "Then I think there is less danger for you, that is, of course, if you are willing to risk the temptation of Lady Helen's too kind consideration and lavish praises, which make mine so very tame." "Oh, mamma, pray do not say so," interrupted Caroline, very eagerly. "Indeed, I would rather hear you speak and see you smile as you do now, than listen to all that Lady Helen is so kind as to say. I know I did like it very much, and that it did sometimes make me fancy when I came home, that you were almost cold. But, indeed, indeed, I hope I am learning to know you better." "I hope so, too, dearest. But Mr. Grahame is waiting for you; and, by-the-by, begged me to ask you for some lines you promised to copy out for a print in Lady Helen's album. You may do just as you like about going, because you are quite old and wise enough to decide for yourself. Ill-temper always brings such suffering with it, that if pleasure must recall it, you will be wiser not to go; but if you can resist it--if you think you can return to your quiet daily routine as forbearing and gentle and happy as you are now, go, my love, and enjoy yourself as much as you can." "I will try and remember all you said about prayer when we think we are most secure, dear mamma," answered Caroline, in a very earnest and somewhat lowered voice. "I know, whenever I have been to Moorlands before, I have felt so elated, so sure I should never be in an ill-temper, so proud from being made so much of, that I fear I have very often relaxed even in my daily prayers, and never thought it necessary to pray against ill-temper. Do you think if I watch myself, and still pray against it, it will save me from being cross and unkind on my return?"