Uncle John left her and went back to his own room. A few moments Florence stood irresolute. Then, stepping to the head of the stairs, she called to George, who was pounding at his mother’s door. Mrs. Dainty had re-entered her chamber and locked it against the children. The child did not heed her in the least. Going down to him, and taking his hand, which the stubborn little fellow tried to prevent her from doing, she said, in a voice that was very kind, and in a tone full of interest,— “George, dear, did I ever show you my book of pictures?” Instantly the firm, resisting hand lay passively in hers; though he neither looked up nor answered. “It is full of the sweetest pictures you ever saw,—birds, and sheep, and horses; children playing in the woods; and ducks and geese swimming in the water.” “Won’t you show them to me?” said the child, turning to his young teacher, and half forgetting, already, in the pleasing images she had created in his thoughts, his angry disappointment in being thrust from his mother’s room. “Yes; and you shall look at them just as long as you please,” answered Florence. Madeline had thrown herself upon the passage-floor in a stubborn fit. Her mother’s discipline in the case, if the child had remained there until she came from her chamber, would have been to jerk her up passionately, and, while passion remained in the rapidly-acquired ascendant, inflict upon her from two to half a dozen blows with her hand. Wild, angry screams would have followed; and then the repentant mother would have soothed her child with promised favors. “Madeline must see them also,” said Miss Harper, pausing and stooping over the unhappy little girl. “Don’t you want to see my picture scrap-book?” She spoke very cheerfully. “Oh, yes, Madeline! Do come! Miss Harper is going to show us a book full of such beautiful pictures.” The voice of George went home. Madeline arose to her feet. Taking, each, a hand of their governess, the two children went with light feet up to her room, and in her book of pictures soon lost all marks of their recent unhappy disturbance. Mrs. Dainty appeared at the dinner-table in a bad humor, and commenced scolding about the new governess. “She’ll have to do better than this, before I am suited with her,” she said, captiously. “What’s the matter now?” asked Mr. Dainty, in a manner that exhibited some annoyance.