She knew quite well how slight a thing she had been asked to do, and
although at another time she would not have objected, just now, when she
wanted to do something else, it seemed very hard to give up her own
will.

Her conscience was so disagreeable, too, for it would keep saying all
the time, "I am ashamed of you, Jennie Browning! Can't you do this for
your kind mamma, even if you do want to do something else?" How tiresome
it all was, and how she wished she could "just do as she liked!"

Thoughts like these were filling Jennie's mind as she stood looking out
of the nursery window; but all at once she was aroused by the strong
smell of burning woolen.

Turning quickly, the child grew almost rigid with fear as she saw, just
in front of her, a small flame burst out from the rug before the fire,
and not far from the crib where Willie lay sleeping. In an instant,
however, the thought "What shall I do?" was followed by the remembrance
of what her mother had often said, "If in any way your dress should ever
take fire, you must try to smother it at once; never run away, but throw
yourself down, or wrap yourself in anything to be found."

[Illustration: "_A small flame burst out from the rug_."]

Remembering this, she hastily caught up the other end of the rug, which
was large and heavy, and threw it over the flame. This quite
extinguished it, for it had only just started into life when Jennie saw
it; but in her zeal she tore off the bedspread and blankets, crowning
all with two large pillows upon which she seated herself, for by this