‘Debarred from the use of the persuasive but obsolete slipper,’ Rhoda continued evasively, ‘I tried milder means of discipline,—solitary confinement for one not very much, you know,—only seventeen times in eight weeks. I hope you don’t object to that? Of course, it was in a pleasant room with southern exposure, good view, and good ventilation, a thermometer, picture-books, and all that. It would have worked better if the twins hadn’t always taken the furniture to pieces, and mother is so fussy about anything of that sort. She finally suggested the winter bedroom for Atlantic’s incarceration, as it has nothing in it but a huge coal-stove enveloped in a somewhat awe-inspiring cotton sheet. I put in a comfortable low chair, a checkerboard, and some books, fixing the time limit at half an hour. By the way, Mary, that’s such a pretty idea of yours to leave the door unlocked, and tell the children to come out of their own accord whenever they feel at peace with the community. I tried it,—oh, I always try your pretty ideas first; but I had scarcely closed the door before Pacific was out of it again, a regenerated human being according to her own account. But to return to Atlantic. I went to him when the clock struck, only to discover that he had broken in the circles of isinglass round the body of the coal-stove, removed the ashes with a book, got the dampers out of order, and taken the doors off the hinges! I am sure Mrs. Grubb is right to keep them on bread-and-milk and apple-sauce; a steady diet of beef and mutton would give them a simply unconquerable energy. Oh, laugh as you may, I could never have lived through the ordeal if it hadn’t been for the young minister!’ ‘Do you mean that he became interested in the twins?’ ‘Oh, yes!—very deeply interested. You have heard me speak of him: it was Mr. Fielding.’ ‘Why, Rhoda, he was the last summer’s minister, the one who preached at the sea-shore.’