Away went Budge, and Mrs. Burton devoted herself to thought and self-questioning. Unquestioning obedience had been her own duty since she could remember, yet she was certain that her will was as strong as Toddie's. If she had been always able to obey, certainly the unhappy little boy in the attic was equally capable--why should he not do it? Perhaps, she admitted to herself, she had inherited a faculty in this direction, and perhaps--yes, certainly, Toddie had done nothing of the sort. How was she to overcome the defect in his disposition; or was she to do it at all? Was it not something with which no one temporarily having a child in charge should interfere? As she pondered, an occasional scream from Toddie helped to unbend the severity of her principles, but suddenly her eye rested upon a picture of her husband, and she seemed to see in one of the eyes a quizzical expression. All her determination came back in an instant with heavy reinforcements, and Budge came back a few minutes later. His bulletins from home, and his stores of experiences _en route_ consumed but a few moments, and then Mrs. Burton proceeded to dress for her ride. To exclude Toddie's screams she closed her door tightly, but Toddie's voice was one with which all timber seemed in sympathy, and it pierced door and window apparently without effort. Gradually, however, it seemed to cease, and with the growing infrequency of his howls and the increasing feebleness of their utterance, Mrs. Burton's spirits revived. Dressing leisurely, she ascended Toddie's prison to receive his declaration of penitence and to accord a gracious pardon. She knocked softly at the door, and said: "Toddie?" There was no response, so Mrs. Burton knocked and called with more energy than before, but without reply. A terrible fear occurred to her! she had heard of children who screamed themselves to death when angry. Hastily she opened the door, and saw Toddie tear-stained and dirty, lying on the floor, fast asleep. She stooped over him to be sure that he still breathed, and then the expression on his sweetly parted lips was such that she could not help kissing them. Then she raised the pathetic, desolate little figure softly in her arms, and the little head dropped upon her shoulder and nestled close to her neck, and one little arm was clasped tightly around her throat, and a soft voice murmured: "I wantsh to go a'widin'." And just then Mr. Burton entered, and, with a most exasperating affection of ingenuousness and uncertainty, asked: "Did you conquer his will, my dear?" His wife annihilated him with a look, and led the way to the dining-room; meanwhile Toddie awoke, straightened himself, rubbed his eyes, recognized his uncle and exclaimed: "Uncle Harry, does you know where we's goin' this afternoon? We's goin' a-widin'."