“If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out.” I think there was something very real in that childish sacrifice. It was his treasured plaything, but it had tempted him to disobedience; he would fling it away with both hands. How few of us repent in that way! _Mea culpa_, we say, but we hug our darling sin close to us; it is not, like Rolf’s cannon, “drownded dead.” Brave, poor little faulty Rolf, I begin to have better hopes of you! So I kissed and comforted Rolf, and he clung to me quite affectionately. I asked him if he had said his prayers, and he said no, he had been too unhappy, because no one would forgive him; so we said them together, and afterwards we had a little more talk. I was just going to leave him when a light crossed the threshold, and there stood Mrs. Markham, with a lamp in her hand. She looked very ill and unhappy, and I am sure she had been shedding tears. Rolf sprang up in bed. “Oh, mother, do forgive me!” he cried. “I am sure I have been miserable long enough. Fenny has been telling me about Cassy—you know the fellow; and I mean to be like him. I will drown my dear little cannon, and I will never, never, never disobey you again!” I think Mrs. Markham was longing in her heart to forgive him. She had suffered as much as the child. She said nothing, but sat down on the bed and held out her arms, and Rolf nestled into them. She kissed him almost passionately, but a tear rolled down her face. “I think you will break my heart one day, Rolf, as your——” She checked herself, and did not finish her sentence. Did she mean Rolf’s father? Colonel Markham had been a brave officer, I knew, and had died in battle; but he had not made his wife happy. “Oh no, mother,” returned Rolf, “I am going to be a brave man, like father, and fight for everybody. I mean to take care of you when you are an old, old woman. Won’t that be nice? You won’t mind my marrying Fenny when I am quite grown up, will you, mother? Because she is such an old dear—not really old, you know, but so nice.” Mrs. Markham smiled faintly at the boy’s nonsense, but she looked at me very pleasantly. “Thank you for talking to Rolf, Miss Fenton, and helping him to be good. He is sorry, I think, and I hope this painful lesson will teach him to be less mischievous. But now you look very unfit to be up. You have done us all good service to-day, and we are all extremely grateful. Let me help you back to your room.” I was very much astonished at this civility, but I declined her assistance and wished Rolf good-night. I was still more surprised when she held out her hand. “You must be careful of yourself, Miss Fenton, for my sister’s sake,” she said, so kindly that I could hardly believe it was Mrs. Markham’s voice.