"No--it can't be bad to play with Emily," said the little fellow,
speaking half to himself. "She's so good, and I love her."

All in vain proved the mother's effort to make her boy see that it
was wrong to play with Emily. He wanted a reason beyond the (sic)
commannd of his father, and that she was not able to give. The more
she talked with him, the more plainly did she see that rebellion was
in his young heart, and that he would act it out in the face of all
consequences. Deeply saddened was she at this conviction, for she
well knew that obedience to parents is the good ground into which
the seeds of civil and religious obedience in manhood must be sown.

As for herself, Mrs. Howland had no objection to little Emily
Winters as the companion of Andrew. She was, as the boy said, a good
girl, and her influence over him was for good. But the stern
prejudice of Mr. Howland had come in to break up the friendship
formed between the children, and his inflexible will would brook no
opposition. All must bend to him, even at the risk of breaking.

Nearly half an hour did Mrs. Howland pass alone with her boy,
striving to awaken the better impulses of his heart, and as they
became active, seeking to implant in his mind a willingness to deny
himself, in order to obey his father. But the father asked too much.
There was no charge of evil against Emily as a reason for this
interdiction. All the mother could say, was--

"It is your father's wish and command, my child, and you must obey
him."