"That child is crying dreadfully," said Laura, going out into the hall, and listening. "Hatty doesn't know how to manage her. Mamma, do go up and see what the matter is."
Mrs. Grey hesitated. She was not fond of meddling with her sons' wives.
Just then, however, a servant appeared with a message to the effect that "Mrs. George" would like to see her, and she flew up-stairs, alarmed. She found Hatty flushed and excited, standing over Kitty, aged twenty months, fast asleep on the floor, her breast heaving, the tears shining on her lashes.
"Oh, mother, what shall I do? Kitty wouldn't say her prayers, and I said she shouldn't go to bed till she had, and I slapped her arms over and over again, and she wouldn't yield, but at last dropped to sleep here on the floor. And I've got to leave her here all night, and she'll catch her death of cold. Oh, dear, I wish I'd gone home with Fred. Fred can always conquer her."
"My dear Hatty," said Mrs. Grey, "I am very sorry for you."
There was no reproach in tone or look, but the sincere sorrow of a loving, sympathizing heart, and Hatty, young and inexperienced, burst into tears.
"I never saw such a will," she said, "never."
"She comes honestly by it," was the reply; "and it will be of service by and by. Meantime I would put her into bed, if I were you."
"But that would be breaking my word; and Fred says I must never do that. He says there is a special blessing for him who swears to his own hurt. Oh, my little darling, how can I let you lie on that cold floor all night?"
"It is unfortunate to threaten children. But I believe all do it in their youth and inexperience. In this particular case I think you ought to break your word as to its letter. As to its spirit you do not break it; you certainly never meant to treat this dear little lamb cruelly."