The moment Mrs. Laurie left, her husband, with a word and a look, brought the three children into order and quietness.  Henry was told, in a low voice, and in a tone of authority, that he never thought of questioning, to go up into the garret and remain there until he sent for him.  The boy retired without the slightest hesitation.

When Mrs. Laurie returned, Mr. Fleetwood, who was a man of frank, free, and pleasant manners, could not resist the temptation he felt to remind her of the past; he, therefore, said, laughingly,

“You have doubtless found out, by this time, Martha, that old maids’ children are the best.”

This sally had just the effect he designed it to have.  It was an apology for the children, as it classed them with other real children, in contradistinction to the imaginary offspring of the unmarried, that are known by every one to be faultless specimens of juvenility.

“Come!  That is too bad, Mr. Fleetwood,” replied Mrs. Laurie, feeling an immediate sense of relief.  “But, I own to the error I committed before marriage.  It seemed to me the easiest thing in the world to manage children, when I thought about it, and saw where parents erred, or appeared to err, in their modes of government.  I did not then know what was in children.  All their perverseness I laid to the account of bad management.  Alas!  I have had some sad experiences in regard to my error.  Still, I cannot but own that children are made worse by injudicious treatment, and also, that mine ought to be a great deal better than they are.”

“Like the rest of us,” returned Mr. Fleetwood, “you have no doubt discovered, that it is one thing to think about the government of children, and another thing to be in the midst of their disturbing sphere, and yet act as if you did not feel it.  Theory and practice are two things.  It seems, when we think coolly, that nothing can be easier than to cause the one exactly to correspond to the other.  But whoever makes the trial, especially where the right government of children is concerned, will find it a most difficult matter.  What makes the government of their children so hard a thing for parents, is the fact that the evils of the children have been inherited from them, and therefore the reaction of these evils upon themselves is the more disturbing.  We haven’t as much patience with the faults of our own children, often, as other people have.  They fret and annoy us, and take away our ability to speak in a proper tone and act with becoming dignity toward them, and thus destroy their respect for us.”

“Nothing can be truer,” said Mrs. Laurie.  “I stand rebuked.  I am self-condemned, every day, on this very account.  I used to think that your government and that of Sarah’s over your children very defective.  But it was far better than the government that I have been able to exercise over mine.  Ah me!”