I'll begin this minute and write that letter to mamma that I have been putting off all week.

And I'll take time to make it interesting, and write all the little things that I know she wants to hear about.

And I'll not be so snappish with Eugenia, and make her feel that she was most to blame about our getting the measles.

I've taken a mean sort of pleasure in doing it before.

Poor thing, she seems to feel dreadfully bad about it, and there's no use my adding anything to her distress." And Joyce, jumping up, took out her writing materials, and sat down at her desk.
At the same moment the Little Colonel was hanging around the door waiting for Mrs.Sherman, who sat in the room until Betty fell asleep.
There was a lingering tenderness in Lloyd's kiss as she threw her arms around her mother's neck, and, though no word was spoken, Mrs.Sherman knew that Lloyd had taken Betty's little sermon to heart.
"Where is Eugenia, dear ?" she asked.
"She has gone to her room, I think." "I want to have a little talk with her.