you Fred," said John, after a minute's consideration; "but no, here is
my name on it."

Margaret, at this moment, brought in a little note from Joe for John,
who, when he had read it, coloured and said, "Papa, perhaps you will
read it aloud, I cannot."

It was as follows:--

DEAR JOHN,

I have been, as you must have seen,
very unhappy and very cross since my accident; I have
had my heart filled with thoughts of malice and revenge,
and to _you_. I have not felt as though I could forgive
you, and I have often told Emilie and Edith this; but
they have not known how wickedly I have felt to you,
nor how much I now need to ask your forgiveness for
thoughts which, in my helpless state, were as bad as actions.
Often, as I saw you run out in the snow to slide
or skate, I have wished (don't hate me for it) that you
might fall and break your leg or your arm, that you might
know a little of what I suffered. Thank God, all that is
passed away, and I now do not write so much to say I
forgive you, for I believe from my heart you only meant
to tease me a little, not to hurt me, but to ask you to pardon
me for thoughts far worse and more evil than your
thoughtless mischief to me. Will you all believe me, too,
when I say that I would not take my past, lonely, miserable
feelings back again, to be the healthiest, most active