ve a curse instead of a blessing. It must be under our
control, or it will force us to do things of which our good sense, good
feeling, and our consciences all disapprove. We must be able to use it
_against_ ourselves if need be. You are nearly grown up, Elfie, and
still such an undisciplined child! What you will not learn with me and
let me teach you in the next two or three years, the world will teach
you very harshly later. We none of us can go through life, least of all
a woman, doing what we like, knocking against every one as we go along.
We get very hard knocks back, and they hurt. We miss, too, the best
happiness that life can give. It contains none to equal that of making
other people happy. As we treat them, they treat us.

"'It is not in the least your fault, little one,' he added very kindly,
'you have had no chance of being different. You have, I am afraid,
received very little kindness, but help me to change all this. Don't
think for a moment that I want to subdue your will to mine, that I want
forced obedience to my wishes--that is the last thing I desire. I want
to place _your_ will under _your_ control. I forced you to do to-night
what I wanted, to make a beginning, to show you it was possible, to let
you feel the pleasure of being agreeable, to stir some gentler, softer
feelings in you. They came, much to your surprise, though not to mine.
We all have them, and it is not good to crush them.'

"While he was talking, a strange, subdued feeling came over me, such as
I had never known before. He spoke gently and impressively, in a deep,
soft tone peculiar to him when very much in earnest. I felt I wanted to
be what he wished me to be, to do what he wanted, and this sensation was
so new to me, that I could not at all understand it. I felt impelled to
tell him, but I was ashamed. I had never in my life been sorry for
anything I had done, still less acknowledged a fault. It was a new and
strange experience, I felt like a dumb animal as I raised my eyes
piteously to his.

"'What is it, little one? You want to say something, surely you are not
afraid?' he asked gently.

"'Forgive me, Tone,' I gasped, as two big tears rolled down my cheeks,
'I am sorry.'

"'I am glad to hear you say you are sorry,' he said, taking my hand,
'but between us there is no question of forgiveness. I have nothing to
pardon, I am not angry, I want to help you.'

"'I never felt like this before,' I muttered, 'I don't understand it,