Sefton entered.

"Richard told me you were tired and had gone up to bed," she said, more
kindly than usual. "I am so sorry, my dear, that you have had such an
uncomfortable afternoon. Edna has been very naughty--very naughty
indeed; but Richard and I feel very grateful to you for accompanying
her."

"I thought it was the right thing to do, Mrs. Sefton."

"Yes, of course; there was nothing else to be done; but it was a foolish
freak on Edna's part." Mrs. Sefton spoke in a worried voice, and her
face looked tired and harassed. Bessie said as much, and she replied:

"Oh, yes; I am worried enough. I have had a fatiguing day in town, and
then when Neville and I entered the house, expecting a welcome, there
was Richard's moody face and your note to greet us. And now, to make
things worse, Edna chooses to be offended at Neville's coming down in
this way, and declares he meant to be a spy on her. She won't say a
civil word to him, and yet it is for him to be displeased; but I think
he would waive all that if she would only own that she has acted
ungenerously to him. I must say Neville is behaving beautifully. He
speaks as gently as possible; but Edna is in one of her tempers, and she
will not listen to reason."

"I am sorry," replied Bessie, looking so full of sympathy that Mrs.
Sefton relaxed from her usual cold dignity.

"Oh, my dear," she said, and now there were tears in her eyes, "I am
afraid it is all my fault. I have indulged Edna too much, and given her
her own way in everything; and now she tyrannizes over us all. If I had
only acted differently." And here the poor woman sighed.

Bessie echoed the sigh, but she could think of nothing to say that could
comfort Mrs. Sefton; she was evidently reaping the effects of her own
injudicious weakness. She had not taught her child to practice
self-discipline and self-control. Her waywardness had been fostered by
indulgence, and her temper had become more faulty. "What man is there of
you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?" asked the
Divine Teacher; and yet there are many parents who offer these stony
gifts to their children, loading them with false kindness and
indulgence, leaving evil weeds unchecked, and teaching them everything
but the one thing needful.

"Oh, how different from mother!" thought Bessie, when she was left
alone, and recalled the time when her young will had been over strong,
and there had been difficult points in her character, and y