"I didn't mean to, and I can pick them up again," and he swept his dirty little hands into the soft mushy pile, gathering berries, dust, stems or whatever happened to be in the way, dashing the miscellaneous mess into the clean berries that had escaped.
"Jamie, you careless child! how can you be so naughty? Go and wash your hands this minute! Fred, leave those things and stay out with Jamie, I can not have you around when there is so much to do!" and with an impatient gesture she brushed Jamie aside and began sorting the berries as best she could.
Fred started toward her with the elastics, saying:
"But, mamma, you haven't looked yet;"
"Well, you see my hands are full, and I can tell you just as well without looking."
"You always tell me to do as I am told," pouted Fred as he reluctantly departed.
Mrs. Hayden was ashamed and yet reckless with discouragement, and scarcely noticed the anxious pedlar, who stood waiting for some decisive word from her.
"I have no use for the supporters at present," she said at last. But as she noticed the look of despair slowly settling on the woman's face, she added, "but, if you are in such distress, I will let you leave two pairs. Take the 50 cents lying there on the shelf," pointing to the place. The woman was very grateful and soon went away with a brighter face.
For a long time after she was gone, her picture remained in Mrs. Hayden's remorseful memory, though she put it away as much as possible and went on with her work. Jamie and Fred had quarreled several times, but even in peace, the fires of war were likely to burst out afresh, for it was always so when she felt this way.
As Mrs. Hayden sat in her own room that evening, reviewing the events of the day, which seemed the culmination of many days, it seemed that the Marion Hayden who had been so happy these last few months, improving in health and strength and ability to live a more useful life, and the Marion Hayden who had so miserably disgraced herself to-day, were far apart—in fact irretrievably separated. Where, indeed, had gone her power of self-control, her wisdom and tact in governing the children? Why had she so harshly told Fred to run away from her when the dear child was only showing his affection according to his own nature? Such an active, impulsive yet loving child must be wisely dealt with, and she had often realized that with Fred, love must be the governing power, not force. To give way as she had to-day would be to lose her influence over him, not only because of repulsing the child himself, but because his critical eyes noticed every weakness and failure in her, to live up to her own code of morals laid down for him to follow.