of his gentle wife rose before him and arrested the
chastisement.
"I cannot punish the child whose mother lies in the grave," said he, in
an agitated tone, suffering his arm to fall relaxed by his side. "But
Mittie, you are making me very unhappy by your misconduct. Tell me why
you dislike your innocent little sister, and delight in giving her pain,
when she is meek and gentle as a lamb?"
"Because you all love her better than you do me," she answered, her
scornful under lip slightly quivering. "Brother Louis don't care for me;
he always gives every thing he has to Helen. Miss Thusa pets her all the
day long, just because she listens to her ugly old stories; and you--and
you, always take her part against me."
"Mittie, don't let me hear you make use of that ridiculous phrase again;
it means nothing, and has a low, vulgar sound. Come here, my daughter--I
thought you did not care about our love." He took her by the hand and
drew her in spite of her resistance, between his knees. Then stroking
back the black and shining hair from her high, bold brow, he added,
"You are mistaken, Mittie, if you do not think that we love you. I love
you with a father's tender affection; I have never given you reason to
doubt it. If I show more love for Helen, it is only because she is
younger, smaller, and winds herself more closely around me by her
loving, affectionate ways; she seems to love me better, to love us all
better. That is the secret, Mittie; it is love; cling to our hearts as
Helen does, and we will never cast you off."
"I can't do as Helen does, for I'm not like her," said Mittie, tossing
back her hair with her own peculiar motion, "and I don't want to be like
her; she's nothing but a coward, though she makes believe half the time,
to be petted, I know she does."
"Incorrigible child;" cried the father, pushing back his chair, rising
and walking the room back and forth, with a sad and clouded brow. He had
many misgivings for the future. The frank, convivial, generous spirit of
Louis would lead him into temptation, when exposed to the influence of
seducing companions. Mittie's jealous and unyielding temper would
embitter the peace of the household; while Helen's morbid sensibility,
like a keen-edged sword in a thin, frail scabbard, threatened to wear
away her young life. What firmness--yea, what gentleness--yea, what
wisdom, what holy Christian principles were requisite for the
responsibilities resting upon him.
"Ma
|