And Mrs. Fleetwood left the room, and taking the little girl who was
crying at the door by the hand, led her up stairs.

"What is the matter, Ellen?" she asked as calmly and as soothingly
as the irritating nature of Ellen's peculiar cry or whine would
permit her.

"Earnest won't play with me," replied the child, still crying.

"Come up into my room, and see if there isn't something pretty there
to play with."

"No--I don't want to," was the crying answer.

"Yes; come." And Mrs. Fleetwood led along the resisting child.

"No--no--no--I don't want to go. I want Earnest to play with me."

"Humph! I'd stop that pretty quick!" remarked Miss Spencer to
herself, as the petulant cry of the child grew louder. "I'd never
allow a child of mine to go on like that."

Mrs. Fleetwood felt disturbed. But experience had taught her that
whenever she spoke from an irritated state, her words rather
increased than allayed the evil she sought to correct. So she drew
the child along with her, using some force in order to do it, until
she reached her chamber. Her strongest impulse, on being alone with
Ellen, who still continued crying, was to silence her instantly by
the most summary process to which parental authority usually has