What was the use, anyway, pursued the relentless conscience--even the wish to be good was always choked by a complete forgetfulness; and before she could catch her breath the words were out, so, although she had believed nearly all her life that one might grow into goodness, she was quite rebellious to-night with the thought of its impossibility, and she felt bitter, too, to think of the long years of uselessness stretching out before her. Scarcely thirty-five and yet she felt like a cross, crabbed old woman, and shuddered to think of all the years to come, if they were to be like the past, and there seemed no help for it unless she could conquer herself. The doctor had done what he could to cure her dyspepsia but she was a veritable slave to her capricious stomach. She felt one of her oft-recurring sick headaches coming on and every thought grew blacker and more disconsolate. Oh! she wished supper were over and the children safe in bed, so she could be free from their noise, and here they come! she thought, as a great stamping and laughing was heard in the hall. "Oh, mamma! such lovely snowflakes, just like a fairy's quilt, and they have been falling all over us till we're like people in frost land. Just look, mamma!" cried Mabel, who liked a romp as well as the boys, although she was thirteen. Three-year-old Jamie and five-year-old Fred came trooping in behind. "Well, mamma, God has turned on the snow faucets," announced Fred, with characteristic importance. "An' all 'e fevvers is tummin' down fum 'e 'ky," shouted Jamie at the top of his voice. "And mamma, _can't_ we have a sled and go coasting this winter?" queried Mabel, not noticing in her eagerness that her mamma was very sick. "Oh, _don't_ make so much noise. Take them away and keep quiet, Mabel. I can not endure so much confusion." They went out clanging the door behind them in spite of their efforts to keep quiet, and as their voices grew fainter, she thought with another remorseful pang: "I have sent them away again. Why must I yield always to self instead of overcoming?" Presently, however, all attempts at thinking were lost in the efforts to get the camphor, bathe her head and find some comforting spot whereon to rest her aching temples. A subdued family gathered around the table that evening and everyone felt the necessity of being quiet as possible. Even Fred and Jamie understood that they _must_ keep still, and managed to keep their voices down to something less than a shrill whisper. Mrs. Hayden partook only of a small cup of tea and was then assisted to her room, where she expected to remain for at least two days--the usual time. Her husband spent the evening rubbing her head, bathing it with camphor and keeping the house quiet as possible.