Emilie agreed with her, but hoped Muff would practise self-denial.  Before Edith lay down to rest that night, she again thought over all that she had done through the day; again knelt down and asked for help to overcome that which was sinful within her, and then lay down to sleep.  Edith was but a child, and she could not forget Muff; she thought, and very truly, that there was a general wish to displace her Muff.  Not one in the house would be sorry to see Muff sent away she know, and Margaret at supper time seemed so pleased to report of Muff’s designs.  This thought made her love Muff all the more, but then there were Fred’s birds.  It would be very sad if any of them should be lost through her cat; what should she do?  She wished to win Fred to love and gentleness.  Should she part with Muff?  Miss Schomberg (aunt Agnes that is) had expressed a wish for a nice quiet cat, and this, her beauty, would just suit her.  “Shall I take Muff to High-Street to-morrow?  I will,” were her last thoughts, but the resolution cost her something, and Edith’s pillow was wet with tears.  When she arose the next morning she felt as we are all apt to feel after the excitement of new and sudden resolves, rather flat; and the sight of Muff sitting near a laurel bush in the garden, enjoying the morning sun, quite unnerved her.  “Part with Muff!  No, I cannot; and I don’t believe any one would do such a thing for such a boy as Fred. I cannot part with Muff, that’s certain.  Fred had better give up his birds, and so I shall tell him.”

All this is very natural, but what is very natural is often very wrong, and Edith did not fuel that calm happiness which she had done the night before.  When she received Emilie’s morning kiss, she said, “Well, Miss Schomberg, I thought last night I had made up my mind to part with Muff, but I really cannot!  I do love her so!”

“It would be a great trial to you, I should think,” said Emilie, “and one that no one could ask of you, but if she had a good master, do you think you should mind it so very much?  You would only have your own sorrow to think of, and really it would be a kindness if those poor birds are to be kept.  The cat terrifies them by springing at the wires, and if they were sitting they would certainly be frightened off their nests.”

Edith looked perplexed; “What shall I do Emilie?  I do wish to please Fred, I do wish to do as I would be done by; I really want to get rid of my selfish nature, and yet it will keep coming back.”

“Watch as well as pray, dear,” said Emilie affectionately, “and you will conquer at last.”  They went down to breakfast together.  “Watch and pray.”  That word “watch,” was R word in season to Edith, she had prayed but had well nigh forgotten to watch.