was no alternative but a resort to what I
had prayed Heaven might spare me. I punished him severely, but he
confessed not. I wished I had not begun, but now I must go on. I still
increased the castigation, and it was only when I told him that I
would stop when he owned the theft, and not before, that he confessed
he had taken the berries.

After this cruel punishment he went out and found Benny, who had been
crying piteously all the time, and then my two boys went and hid
themselves. I would have suffered the rack to have recalled that hour.
It was too late. On going into the kitchen shortly after, I found a
poor woman of the neighborhood with the box, which she said her
thievish son had confessed he stole from the pantry. Perhaps some
parents imagine the feelings of Charlotte and myself when we made this
discovery. But they are few. The boys both shunned us, and we dreaded
to see them. But at last we sent for them to come in, and they dared
not refuse to obey. I took Charles in my arms. I asked him to forgive
me; I told him who took the berries; I shed tears without measure; I
begged him to forgive me--to kiss me as he was wont. He could not do
it. It was cold and mechanical. His little heart seemed broke. Had he
died I thought I could have borne it, but I could not endure this.
When he slept he was fitful and troubled; ah! his troubles could not
be greater than mine. I slept not that night; no, nor for many nights
after that; but I watched him in his sleep, and many a hot tear did I
drop on his cheek, which he wiped off as poison; and for many weeks I
would rise several times every night, and go and gaze on his yet
pretty face, on which was stamped the curse for my own cruel haste.

In the midst of these sore trials, the lovely face of Margaret again
appeared before me, and again the vision vanished into nothing. And I
told her this part of the dream, and even then could not suppress a
tear that it was a dream, and that the children of W---- could never
have an existence or a name.

Then the kind Margaret spoke words of comfort to me, and made me
repress the half-formed feeling of discontent.

"Have you not," said she, "said you would be satisfied for only one
hour of the love of Charlotte?"

"True," I replied, "and that dream was worth more than all my life
before."

"Have you not known in that the joys of a parent, and have you not
seen what sorrows and trials might have been yours, from which you
have now