"Where's my book, mamma? Give me my book, mamma! Oh, I'm so glad
you've come!"

Now, the first conviction of wrong, often has an irritating effect
upon the mind, obscuring its perceptions, and leading, sometimes, to
the impulsive commission of greater wrongs. It was so in the present
case. The happy countenance of her child did not bring joy to the
mother's heart; for she knew that with a word, she must dash to the
ground all his buoyant anticipations. And she remembered, too, at
the moment, how poorly he could bear disappointment.

"Eddy, dear," said Mrs. Herbert, taking her little boy by the hand,
and advancing toward the parlor door with him, "Eddy, dear, let me
tell you something."

Her grave tone and look caused a shiver to pass inward toward the
heart of the child. He understood, but too well, that the mother,
whose word he had trusted so implicitly, had been faithless to her
promise.

Poor child! even this advancing shadow of a coming disappointment,
darkened his young face and filled his eyes with tears.

Mrs. Herbert sat down on the nearest chair, as she entered the
parlor, and drew Eddy to her side. She saw, from his sad face, that
words were not required to make him aware that the promised book was
not in her possession; and she knew, from former experience, that
trouble was before her. Unhappily, she did not feel softened, but
rather irritated, toward the child.