But we cannot help the past.

Now dear child, compose yourself; I am fatigued, but cannot sleep until you do." Alice, restless for a while, at last fell asleep, but it was not the rest that brings refreshment and repose.

Her mother watched her, as with her hand now pressed on her brow, now thrown on the pillow, she slept.

Her mind, overtaxed, tried even in sleep to release itself of its burden.

The wish to please, and the effort to do right, was too much for her sensitive frame.