"What a naughty girl!" said Berty. "See, you've made mamma cry!"
Ida stopped kicking; stood for a moment irresolute; then she ran and laid her head in her mother's lap.
"I'm sorry, mamma; I don't want an orange now. Take away your handkerchief. See, I'm a good girl."
Mrs. Kent gazed in the child's face. It was beaming with the new delight of having conquered. She took Ida in her arms; pressing her to her heart.
"You have made mamma very happy," she said, kissing her again and again. "Now I know you do mean to try and conquer those wicked passions. Berty, go to the store, darling, and buy the largest orange you call find. Buy two large ones. We must have them cut up for supper; and Ida shall sprinkle sugar on them and help us all herself from the glass dish. I want papa and Aunt Mary and nurse to know that my dear little girl is determined to be good; that she has begun already to conquer herself."
I wish you could have seen Ida. She danced about the room, kissing mamma ever so many times, and kept running to the window to see whether Berty was coming.
Mrs. Kent looked as happy as her little girl. "Oh, if this will only last!" she said to herself. And then she lifted her heart in prayer to her heavenly Father, beseeching him to put good thoughts into Ida's mind.
When tea was on the table, mamma brought forward the nice dish of orange, and put it before Ida's plate. Then she took the bowl from the tray and said—
"There, love, you may sprinkle on the sugar now. You have been very patient while I cut the oranges."
Ida took the sugar-spoon and began her work. She did not smile. She looked very solemn as if she felt the importance of the trust.