Clara kissed her dear mother, and promised that she would attend to all she said; and her mother was satisfied, for she knew that Clara never told stories, though she was but a little girl.

Then Mrs. Grant turned to Charles, and said:  “As for you, Charles, I cannot help feeling great pain at leaving you; for you are such a bad, wilful boy that I shall not have a happy moment while I am away from you, lest you should do anything amiss.  But if you love me, you will try to be good; and whenever you are about to do anything wrong, say to yourself, ’How much this would grieve my poor mother if she knew it! and how much it will offend God, who does see, and knows, not only everything I do, but even my most secret thoughts!  And He will one day bring me to an account for all I do or say against His holy will and my kind parents’ commands.’”

Charles, who knew he was a bad boy, hung down his head, for he did not like to be told of his faults.

Then his mother said:  “My dear Charles, do try and be good, and I will love you dearly.”

“But what will you bring me from London,” said Charles, “if I am a good boy? for I never will behave well for nothing.”

“Do you call the love of God and of dear mother nothing?” said Clara; “I will behave well, even if mother forgets to bring me the great wax doll, and the chest of drawers to keep her clothes in, which she told me about yesterday.”

Mrs. Grant smiled fondly on her little girl, but made no reply to Charles; and soon the coach drove away from the door.

Charles was very glad when his mother was gone, and he said:  “Now mother is gone to London, I will do just as I please:  I will learn no ugly lessons, but play all day long.  How happy I shall be!  I hope mother may not come for a whole month.”

But Charles soon found he was not so happy as he thought he should have been; he did not know the reason, but I will tell you why he was not happy.  No one can be happy who is not good, and Charles was so naughty as to resolve not to obey his kind mother, who loved him so much.

Charles brought out all his toys to play with, but he soon grew weary of them, and he kicked them under the table, saying, “Nasty dull toys, I hate you, for you do not amuse me or make me happy.  I will go to father, and ask him to give me something to please me that I am not used to.”

But father was busy with some friends in the study, and could not attend to his wants.  Charles was a rude, tiresome boy; so he stood by his father, and shook his chair, and pulled his sleeve, and teased him so much that his father at last grew angry, and turned him out of the room.

Then Charles stood and kicked at the door, and screamed with all his might, when one of the gentlemen said to him:  “If you were my little boy, I would give you something to cry for.”  So Charles’s father told him if he did not go away, he would come out of the study and whip him.