"I think he is minding it, dear," mother answered."His Master's business is his, and that has brought him here.Go to him, my darling child; I am sure you crave something better than prizes and compliments and new dresses and journeys."If anybody but mother had said that, my heart would have melted at once, and I should have gone right down to Dr.Cabot to be moulded in his hand to almost any shape.But as it was I brushed past, ran into my room, and locked my door.Oh, what makes me act so! I hate myself for it, I don't want to do it!
Last week I dined with Mrs.Jones.Her little Tommy was very fond of me, and that, I suppose, makes her have me there so often.Lucy was at the table, and very fractious.She cried first for one thing and then for another.At last her mother in a gentle, but very decided way put her down from the table.Then she cried louder than ever.But when her mother offered to take her back if she would be good, she screamed yet more.She wanted to come and wouldn't let herself come.
I almost hated her when I saw her act so, and now I am behaving ten times worse and I am just as miserable as I can be.
July 29.- Amelia has been here.She has had her talk with Dr.Cabot and is perfectly happy.She says it is so easy to be a Christian! It may be easy for her; everything is.She never has any of my dreadful feelings, and does not understand them when I try to explain them to her.Well, if I am fated to be miserable, I must try to bear it.
Oct.3.-Summer is over, school has begun again, and I am so busy that I have not much time to think, to be low spirited.We had a delightful journey, and I feel well and bright, and even gay.I never enjoyed my studies as I do those of this year.Everything goes on pleasantly here at home.But James has gone away to school, and we miss him sadly.I wish I had a sister.Though I dare say I should quarrel with her, if I had.
Oct 23.-I am so glad that my studies are harder this year, as I am never happy except when every moment is occupied.However, I do not study all the time, by any means.Mrs.Gordon grows more and more fond of me, and has me there to dinner or to tea continually.She has a much higher opinion of me than mother has, and is always saying the sort bf things that make you feel nice.She holds me up to Amelia as an example, begging her to imitate me in my fidelity about my lessons, and declaring there is nothing she so much desires as to have a daughter bright and original like me.Amelia only laughs, and goes and purrs in her mother's ears when she hears such talk.It costs her nothing to be pleasant.She was born so.For my part, Ithink myself lucky to have such a friend.She gets along with my odd, hateful ways better than any one else does.Mother, when I boast of this, says she has no penetration into character, and that she would be fond of almost any one fond of her; and that the fury with which Ilove her deserves some response.I really don't know what to make of mother.Most people are proud of their children when they see others admire them; but she does say such pokey things! Of course I know that having a gift for music, and a taste for drawing, and a reputation for saying witty, bright things isn't enough.But when she doesn't find fault with me, and nothing happens to keep me down, I am the gayest creature on earth.I do love to get with a lot of nice girls, and carry on! I have got enough fun in me to keep a houseful merry.And mother needn't say anything.I inherited it from her.
Evening.-I knew it was coming! Mother has been in to see what I was about, and to give me a bit of her mind.She says she loves to see me gay and cheerful, as is natural at my age, but that levity quite upsets and disorders the mind, indisposing it for serious thoughts.
"But, mother," I said, "didn't you carry on when you were a young girl?""Of course I did," she said, smiling."But I do not think I was quite so thoughtless as you are.""Thoughtless" indeed! I wish I were! But am I not always full of uneasy, reproachful thoughts when the moment of excitement is over?
Other girls, who seem less trifling than I, are really more so.Their heads are full of dresses and parties and beaux, and all that sort of nonsense.I wonder if that ever worries their mothers, or whether mine is the only one who weeps in secret? Well, I shall be young but once, and while I am, do let me have a good time!
Sunday, Nov.20.-Oh, the difference between this day and the day Iwrote that! There are no good times in this dreadful world.I have hardly courage or strength to write down the history of the past few weeks.The day after I had deliberately made up my mind to enjoy myself, cost what it might, my dear father called me to him, kissed me, pulled my ears a little, and gave me some money.
"We have had to keep you rather low in funds," he said laughing."But I recovered this amount yesterday, and as it was a little debt I had given up, I can spare it to you.For girls like pin-money, I know, and you may spend this just as you please."I was delighted.I want to take more drawing-lessons, but did not feel sure he could afford it.Besides-I am a little ashamed to write it down-I knew somebody had been praising me or father would not have seemed so fond of me.I wondered who it was, and felt a good deal puffed up."After-all," I said to myself, "some people like me if Ihave got my faults." I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him, though that cost me a great effort.I never like to show what I feel.
But, oh! how thankful I am for it now.
As to mother, I know father never goes out without kissing her good-by.
I went out with her to take a walk at three o'clock.We had just reached the corner of Orange Street, when I saw a carriage driving slowly towards us; it appeared to be full of sailors.Then I saw our friend, Mr.Freeman, among them.When he saw us he jumped out and came up to us.I do not know what he said.I saw mother turn pale and catch at his arm as if she were afraid of falling.But she did not speak a word.
