and another and
harder stroke was given. The father was resolved to conquer, and he
did conquer. A promise was extorted from the child's lips, while,
his heart yielded nothing.

"Very well, sir! See that you keep your word," said Mr. Howland, as
he released the writhing sufferer from his firm grasp. "If you
disobey me again in this thing, I will give five times as much."

And he turned from the chamber leaving the wronged and suffering
child alone.

"I've begun now, and I'll go through with it," muttered Mr. Howland,
as he reentered the room where his wife was sitting. "I never saw so
perverse and self-willed a child in my life. If he is not subdued
now, and forced to obey, his ultimate destruction is inevitable."

"His fault was not a very great one," Mrs. Howland ventured to
suggest.

"Do you call disobedience a little fault?" asked Mr. Howland, his
brow contracting as he spoke.

"I did not mean that," quickly answered Mrs. Howland. "I meant his
going in to see Emily Winters. The children are very fond of each
other."

"But I have told him not to go in there, haven't I?"

"Yes."

"Very well. That settles the matter. If he goes, he disobeys me; and
if he disobeys me, he must be punished."

"But, Andrew--"

"It is useless to argue about this with me, Esther. Entirely
useless. In your weakness you would indulge and ruin the boy. But I
know my duty better."

Mrs. Howland sighed deeply and remained silent. Some ten minutes
afterwards, seeing her husband engaged with a book, she arose and
left the room. As soon as she closed the door, every movement was
suddenly quickened, and she sprung up the stairway to the chamber
from which had come down to her the screams of her boy, as he shrunk
under the cruel strokes inflicted by the hand of his father.
Entering, she saw Andrew sitting on the floor, with his arms resting
on a low chair, and his face buried in them. He raised his head
slowly, and turned to see who had come in. The instant he saw that
it was his mother, a flush came into his pale face, and tears dimmed
the light of his beautiful, tender, loving eyes. In another moment
he was sobbing on her bosom.

"Dear Andrew must not be disobedient again," said the mother, so
soon as her child had grown calm, bending close to his cheek as she
spoke, and letting her breath fall warmly over it.

"Emily is a good little girl, and I love her. She ain't bad, mother.
She is better than I am," quickly returned the ch