The next morning, fortunately, was cloudy; though, as Ida's eyes were shaded by the wet bandages, and she, seated in her mother's lap, was shielded also by her mother's green veil, they hoped she would not suffer from the ride.
"Only let us once get her to our quiet home," exclaimed Aunt Mary, "and I'll be content. Oh, what a visit this has been!"
All through the night and during the early hurried breakfast, Joseph had slept on.
Mrs. Kent crept softly to the room again and again, and bent over the boy. She did not like the flushed face, nor the loud snore which accompanied every breath, nor the feverish pulse.
"I wish," she said to Mrs. Mason, "that the doctor would come before we leave. I should be so much happier to know he was better."
"I thought sleep was the best thing for him," said Mr. Mason, putting his hand on Joseph's head; "but he's too hot. I'm afraid I did give him a harder blow than I thought; but he's the most aggravating child I ever saw."
"I know, brother," said Mrs. Kent, softly, "that you will excuse me if I ask, do you think striking a child in anger, is a good way to cure him of his passionate temper?"
The tears, were in her eyes as she glanced at the boy.
"Sister Kent," he began, eagerly, "I never thought so much about the government of children, in all my life, as I did last night. I lay hours pondering the subject. Four hours by the clock I walked the floor; and I resolved then and there to begin first with the government of myself."
"Thank God!" she murmured, pressing his hands. "Now I can prophesy a happy future for you."