"You hate yourself now," the inward monitor went on, "but not so badly as you will by and by. Every day that you indulge in these evil passions, you will grow worse and worse. Try to reform. Begin to-day, and take this verse for your motto: 'If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.'"
"That is Hatty's rule," exclaimed Matilda, starting from her seat. "I'll try it. I'm sorry now, I told Sallie that Cynthia didn't like her dress. I'm afraid there'll be a fuss about that. Sallie wont speak; and her cousin will find out what I said, and then the blame will all come on me."
"Where it belongs," urged conscience again.
"Well, I'll never tell tales again; that is, if I can help it. I mean to try and be like Hatty. Father and mother will wonder what has come over me; I wish I knew what I ought to do first."
Already she felt happier than for a long time. She ran down to the sink, bathed her face and eyes; then back to her room and combed her hair, confining it in her net, after which she joined her mother in the sitting-room.
"Where's that little apron," she began, "that you cut out yesterday? I'm going to make it."
Mrs. Manning glanced up from her work in surprise. "What has happened?" she asked herself; but she smilingly directed her daughter where she might find the apron.
Before her needle was threaded, baby Tom fell from the steps and began to scream with all his might.
Mrs. Manning started up, letting her sewing fall to the floor. "I sha'n't sew a stitch at this rate," began Matilda impatiently; but recovering herself, she exclaimed,—
"Come here, Tommy. I'll show you the bossy;" and they trotted off together to the barn.