"You shall have it now, my child," mother said, and went away.

Now what was the use of her calling me "my child" in such a tone, I
should like to know.

I hurried off, and just as I got to the door of the schoolroom it
flashed into my mind that I had not said my prayers! A nice way to
begin on one's birthday, to be sure! Well, I had not time. And
perhaps my good resolutions pleased God almost as much as one of my
rambling stupid prayers could. For I must own I can't make good
prayers. I can't think of anything to say. I often wonder what mother
finds to say when she is shut up by the hour together.

I had a pretty good time at school. My teachers praised me, and
Amelia seemed so fond of me! She brought me a birthday present of a
purse that she had knit for me herself, and a net for my hair. Nets
are just coming into fashion. It will save a good deal of time my
having this one. Instead of combing and combing and combing my old
hair to get it glossy enough to suit mother, I can just give it one
twist and one squeeze and the whole thing will be settled for the
day.

Amelia wrote me a dear little note, with her presents. I do really
believe she loves me dearly. It is so nice to have people love you!

When I got home mother called me into her room. She looked as if she
had been crying. She said I gave her a great deal of pain by my
self-will and ill temper and conceit.

"Conceit!" I screamed out. "Oh, mother, if you only knew how horrid I