"Yes; and knowing as I do," said Mrs. Manly, "how very restless some children with active minds are, I am never disposed to look with unfavourable eyes upon any, even when wild, turbulent, and heedless. They act as they feel; and so far as evil affections show themselves, we know they are inherited, and that it is not in the power of the child to remove them. We should then be moved, it seems to me, with a purer affection for them; with something of pity mixed with our love, and, instead of suffering their wrong actions to repulse us, we should draw towards them with a desire to teach them what is wrong, and impart to them some power to overcome evil." "If all thought as you, Mary," said Mr. Manly, as they gained their own doors, "we should hear no one railing out against other people's children, while he indulged his own. A fault too common with most parents." I WILL! "YOU look sober, Laura. What has thrown a veil over your happy face?" said Mrs. Cleaveland to her niece, one morning, on finding her alone and with a very thoughtful countenance. "Do I really look sober?" and Laura smiled as she spoke. "You did just now. But the sunshine has already dispelled the transient cloud. I am glad that a storm was not portended." "I felt sober, aunt," Laura said, after a few moments--her face again becoming serious. "So I supposed, from your looks." "And I feel sober still." "Why?" "I am really discouraged, aunt." "About what?" The maiden's cheek deepened its hue, but she did not reply. "You and Harry have not fallen out, like a pair of foolish lovers, I hope." "Oh, no!" was the quick and emphatic answer. "Then what has troubled the quiet waters of your spirit? About what are you discouraged?"