“No; and we’ll pretend we don’t care a cent.  Mother sha’n’t have the satisfaction of knowing that I do anyhow;” and Dick whistled a lively tune as he pulled off his boots and tossed them into a corner.

At about the same time Elsie and her husband, seated alone together in their veranda, were conversing on the same subject.  Mr. Travilla introduced it.  They had been regretting the effect of the fright of the evening upon their children—­Vi especially as the one predisposed to undue excitement of the brain—­yet hoping it might not prove lasting.

Elsie had just returned from seeing them to bed.  “I left them much calmed and comforted,” she said, “by our little talk together of God’s constant watch over us, His all-power and His protecting care and love; and by our prayer that He would have them in his keeping.”

He pressed her hand in silence; then presently remarked, “The birthday of those boys is near at hand.  They certainly deserve no remembrance from us; but how do you feel about it?”

“Just as my noble, generous husband does,” she said, looking up into his face with a proud, fond smile.

“Ah! and how is that?”

“Like giving them a costlier and more acceptable present than ever before; thus ‘heaping coals of fire upon their heads.’”

“And what shall it be?”

“Whatever you think they would prefer, and would not that be a pony a-piece?”

“No doubt of it; and I will try to procure two worth having, before the day comes round.”

Talking with her little ones the next morning, Elsie told them of the near approach of the birthday of Dick and Walter, spoke of the duty of forgiveness and the return of good for evil, and asked who of them would like to make their cousins some nice present.

“I should, mamma,” said little Elsie.

Eddie looked up into his mother’s face, dropped his head, and blushing deeply muttered, “I’d rather flog them like papa and Cal did.”

“So would I; they’re naughty boys!” cried Vi, the tears starting to her eyes at the remembrance of the panic of fear their conduct had cost herself, brothers and sister.

Their mother explained that it was papa’s duty to protect his children from injury, and that that was why he had flogged naughty Dick; but now he had forgiven him and was going to return good for evil, as the Bible bids us.  “And you must forgive them too, dears, if you want God to forgive you,” she concluded; “for Jesus says, ’If you forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.’”

“I can’t, mamma:  I don’t love them,” said Eddie, stoutly.

“Ask God to help you, then, my son.”

“But mamma, I can’t ask him with my heart, ’cause I don’t want to love them or forgive them.”

“Can my boy do without God’s forgiveness? without Jesus’ love?” she asked, drawing him to her side.  “You feel very unhappy when papa or mamma is offended with you, and can you bear your heavenly Father’s frown?”