"O my head! how it beats! What shall I do, mamma?"
"Bear the consequences of your own inordinate appetite, Frances, and learn to subject it to the wholesome rules of temperance."
"O the nasty plum-cake! I wish you had not given me any, mamma."
"You once thought the plum-cake nice, and you would not be contented with the small portion I knew to be sufficient and safe for you."
"O my head! I think it is very cruel, mamma, that you do not pity me."
"I do pity you, Frances, and will take care of you now that I see you require help, as I perceive that you will not have any relief without medicine."
Frances began again to cry, "O, I am so sick! I cannot take medicine. I am sure I cannot."
"Come to your room, Frances; I shall give you something proper, and you had better lie down after you have taken it; you will, perhaps, drop into a sleep, and be well when you awake again." Her mamma took her hand and led her up stairs, and Frances knew very well it was in vain to make any objection, as her mamma always made a point of obedience. The medicine was administered, although for some time Frances refused to look at it. When she laid down, her mamma placed the pillow high under her head, and, drawing the curtain to shade the light, left the room that she might be perfectly quiet. And when she returned to the drawing-room, she inquired of the other children what they had been doing, and received a full account of the feast, and the bird's nest, and all the little circumstances of each.
It was time to resume their studies, and, except that Frances was not in her usual place, all things proceeded as before. When the lessons were finished, they entreated their mamma to go with them, and see the bird's nest."
"It is so pretty, mamma!" said Anne; "and they know when the mother comes, and they take what she puts into their mouths."