here that seems to have caused
everything, and that is the thought I cannot bear."

"I was talking all that over with Uncle Geoffrey last night," said
Fred, "and he especially warned us against reproaching ourselves with
consequences. He said it was he who had helped my father to choose the
horse that caused his death, and asked me if I thought he ought to blame
himself for that. I said no; and he went on to tell me that he did not
think we ought to take unhappiness to ourselves for what has happened
now; that we ought to think of the actions themselves, instead of the
results. Now my skating that day was just as bad as my driving, except,
to be sure, that I put nobody in danger but myself; it was just as much
disobedience, and I ought to be just as sorry for it, though nothing
came of it, except that I grew more wilful."

"Yes," said Henrietta, "but I shall always feel as if everything had
been caused by me. I am sure I shall never dare wish anything again."

"It was just as much my wish as yours," said Fred.

"Ah! but you did not go on always trying to make her do what you
pleased, and keeping her to it, and almost thinking it a thing of
course, to make her give up her wishes to yours. That was what I was
always doing, and now I can never make up for it!"

"O yes," said Fred, "we can never feel otherwise than that. To know how
she forgave us both, and how her wishes always turned to be the same
as ours, if ours were not actually wrong; that is little comfort to
remember, now, but perhaps it will be in time. But don't you see,
Henrietta, my dear, what Uncle Geoffrey means?--that if you did domineer
over her, it was very wrong, and you may be sorry for that; but that you
must not accuse yourself of doing all the mischief by bringing her here.
He says he does not know whether it was not, after all, what was most
for her comfort, if--"

"O, Freddy, to have you almost killed!"

"If the thoughts I have had lately will but stay with me when I am well
again, I do not think my accident will be a matter of regret, Henrietta.
Just consider, when I was so disobedient in these little things, and
attending so little to her or to Uncle Geoffrey, how likely it was that
I might have gone on to much worse at school and college."

"Never, never!" said Henrietta.

"Not now, I hope," said Fred; "but that was not what I meant to say. No
one could say, Uncle Geoffrey told me, that the illness was brought on
either by anxiety or ov