Young as he was, he could endure punishment, but not give up his
little friend. Advantage was therefore taken of every opportunity to
be with her that offered. Punishments of various kinds were
inflicted, but they acted only as temporary restraints.

As to this little girl herself, let it be understood, Mr. Howland
had no personal objection. He had never seen anything that was wrong
in her, and had never heard a word of evil spoken against her. The
simple, yet all-embracing defect that appertained to her was his
dislike of her father; and this dislike had its chief foundation in
a wrong estimate of his character, the result of his own narrow
prejudices. Somewhat hastily, we will admit, did Mr. Howland utter
the word that was to separate the little friends, and the word was
half-repented of as soon as spoken. But once uttered, it was a law
to which he required the most implicit obedience. He thought not of
the wrong the separation might do his child; he thought only of
enforcing obedience--of breaking a stubborn will. Obedience in
children was, in his eyes, everything--and he visited, with the
sternest displeasure, every deviation therefrom. The consequence
was, that his little ones, in their nest at home, rarely saw in the
face of their father a smile of affection; rarely heard his voice in
words of tenderness. Something, in their conduct was ever
displeasing to him, and he attempted its correction by coldness,
repulsion, harsh words, or cruel punishment. He never sought to
lead, but to force them into the right way.

The word of interdiction was uttered, but Andrew could not give up
his sweet little friend; and the word was therefore disregarded.
Stealthily, to avoid punishment, he went to her but watchful eyes
were upon him, and he was soon brought back. Gently and earnestly