the mind of a child. Accustomed to associate the idea of superiority with that of their elders, they cannot understand their giving way to the same emotions as themselves. It must be something very dreadful indeed to have produced it. Eda soon recovered from her emotion, or rather soon subdued its external signs—and, taking the children on her knee, first soothed them with caresses, and then endeavoured to place the subject in its pleasantest light; she told them how kind their new mamma would be, and that she would take them to walk with her, and ask their father to forgive them if ever he was angry. Scott beautifully says
"The tear down childhood's cheek that flows
Is like the dew drop on the rose."
So it proved to be in the present instance, and the children again took their places at the table, to Mrs. Whyte's great satisfaction, who considered seed-cake and marmalade a sovereign panacea for all the ills to which childhood is heir. Still the conversation of the evening made a deep impression on Ellen and Julia—they
