without having my displeasure added thereto.

If I was unhappy before Jane entered my room I was still more
unhappy after she retired. I blamed myself, and pitied the child;
but this did not in the least mend the matter.

In about half an hour, Jane came up very quietly with Willy, my dear
little, curly-haired, angel-face boy, in her arms. He had fallen
asleep, and she had, with her utmost strength, carried him
up-stairs. She did not lift her eyes to mine as she entered, but
went, with her burden, to the low bed that was in the room, where
she laid him tenderly, and then sat down with her face turned partly
away from me, and with a fan kept off the flies and cooled his moist
skin.

Enough of Jane's countenance was visible to enable me to perceive
that its expression was sad. And it was an unkind word from my lips
that had brought this cloud over her young face!

"So much for permitting myself to fall into a fretful mood," said I,
mentally. "In future I must be more watchful over my state of mind.
I have no right to make others suffer from my own unhappy temper."

Jane continued to sit by Willy and fan him; and every now and then I
could hear a very low sigh come up, as if involuntarily, from her
bosom. Faint as the sound was, it smote upon my ear, and added to my
uncomfortable frame of mind.

A friend called, and I went down into the parlour, and sat
conversing there for an hour. But all the while there was a weight