CHAPTER VIII.
"Be not too ready to condemn The wrongs thy brothers may have done; Ere ye too harshly censure them For human faults, ask, 'Have I none?'"
--_Miss Eliza Cook_.
The little girls took up their station at the front door to watch for"Uncle Edward's" return.
Gracie presently cried out joyfully, "Oh, he's coming with a wholehandful of letters! I wonder if one is from papa."
"I'm afraid not," said Lulu; "he would hardly write last night, leavingus so late as he did, and hardly have time before the leaving of theearly boat this morning."
The last word had scarcely left her lips when Edward reached her sideand put a letter into her hand--a letter directed to her, andunmistakably in her father's handwriting.
"One for you, too, Vi," he said gayly, tossing it into her lap throughthe open window.
"Excuse the unceremonious delivery, sister mine. Where are grandma andmamma? I have a letter for each of them."
"Here," answered his mother's voice from within the room; then as shetook the missives from his hand, "Ah, I knew papa would not forgeteither mamma or me."
"Where's my share, Ned?" asked Zoe, issuing from the inner room, whereshe had been engaged in taking off her hat and smoothing her fairtresses.
"Your share? Well, really I don't know; unless you'll accept themail-carrier as such," he returned sportively.
"Captain Baxter?" she asked in mock astonishment. "I'd rather have aletter by half."
"But you can't have either," he returned, laughing; "you can have thepostman who delivered the letters here--nothing more; yours is 'Hobson'schoice.'"
Lulu, receiving her letter with a half-smothered exclamation of intense,joyful surprise, ran swiftly away with it to the beach, never stoppingtill she had gained a spot beyond and away from the crowd, where noprying eye would watch her movements or note if the perusal of hertreasure caused any emotion.
There, seated upon the sand, she broke open the envelope with fingerstrembling with eagerness. It contained only a few lines in CaptainRaymond's bold chirography, but they breathed such fatherly love andtenderness as brought the tears in showers from Lulu's eyes--tears ofintense joy and filial love. She hastily wiped them away and read thesweet words again and again; then kissing the paper over and over,placed it in her bosom, rose up, and slowly wended her way back towardthe house, with a lighter, happier heart than she had known for somedays.
She had not gone far when Grace came tripping over the sands to meether, her face sparkling with delight as she held up a note to view,exclaiming, "See, Lu! papa did not forget me; it came inside of mamma'sletter."
"Oh, Gracie, I am glad," said Lulu; "but it would be very strange forpapa to remember the bad child and not the good one, wouldn't it?" sheconcluded, between a sigh and a smile.
"I'm not always good," said Grace; "you know I did something very, verybad last winter one time--something you would never do. I b'lieve you'dspeak the truth if you knew you'd be killed for it."
"You dear little thing!" exclaimed Lulu, throwing her arm round Graceand giving her a hearty kiss; "it's very good in you to say it; but papasays I'm an honest child and own the truth even when it's against me."
"Yes; you said you told him how you had disobeyed him; and If it hadbeen I, I wouldn't have ever said a word about it for fear he'd punishme."
"Well, you can't help being timid; and if I were as timid as you are,no doubt I'd be afraid to own up too; and I didn't confess till afterthat Miss Eastman had told on me," said Lulu. "Now let's sit down on thesand, and if you'll show me your letter, I'll show you mine."
Grace was more than willing, and they busied themselves with theletters, reading and rereading, and with loving talk about their absentfather, till summoned to the supper-table.
Lulu was very fond of being on the beach, playing in the sand, wanderinghither and thither, or just sitting gazing dreamily out over the waves;and her father had allowed her to do so, only stipulating that sheshould not go out of sight or into any place that looked at alldangerous.
"I'm going down to the beach," she said to Grace, when they had left thetable that evening; "won't you go too?"
"Not yet," said Grace; "baby is awake, and looks so sweet that I'drather stay and play with her a little while first."
"She does look pretty and sweet," assented Lulu, glancing toward thebabe, cooing in its nurse's arms, "but we can see enough of her after wego home to Ion, and haven't the sea any more. I'll go now, and you cancome and join me when you are ready."
Leaving the house, Lulu turned southward toward Sunset Heights, andstrolled slowly on, gazing seaward for the most part, and drinking inwith delight the delicious breeze as it came sweeping on from no oneknows where, tearing the crests of the waves and scattering the sprayhither and yon.
The tide was rising, and it was keen enjoyment to watch the greatbillows chasing each other in and dashing higher and higher on the sandsbelow. Then the sun drew near his setting, and the sea, reflecting thegorgeous coloring of the clouds, changed every moment from one lovelyhue to another.
Lulu walked on and on, wilfully refusing to think how great might be thedistance she was putting between herself and home, and at length satdown, the better to enjoy the lovely panorama of cloud and sea whichstill continued to enrapture her with its ever-changing beauty.
By and by the colors began to fade and give place to a silvery gray,which gradually deepened and spread till the whole sky was fast growingblack with clouds that even to her inexperienced eye portended a storm.
She started up and sent a sweeping glance around on every side. Could itbe possible that she was so far from the tiny 'Sconset cottage that atpresent she called home? Here were Tom Never's Head and the life-savingstation almost close at hand; she had heard papa say they were a goodtwo miles from 'Sconset, so she must be very nearly that distance fromhome, all alone too, and with night and a storm fast coming on.
"Oh me! I've been disobedient again," she said aloud, as she set off forhome at her most rapid pace; "what would papa say? It wasn't exactlyintentional this time, but I should not have been so careless."
Alarmed at the prospect of being overtaken by darkness and tempest aloneout in the wild, she used her best efforts to move with speed; but shecould scarcely see to pick her steps or take a perfectly direct course,and now and again she was startled by the flutter of an affrightednight-bird across her path as she wandered among the sand dunes, toilingover the yielding soil, the booming of the waves and the melancholycadences of the wind as it rose and fell filling her ears.
She was a brave child, entirely free from superstitious fears, andhaving learned that the island harbored no burglars or murderers, andthat there was no wild beast upon it, her only fear was of beingovertaken by the storm or lost on the moors, unable to find her way tillday-break.
But, gaining the top of a sand-hill, the star-like gleam of SankatyLight greeted her delighted eyes, and with a joyful exclamation, "Oh,now I can find the way!" she sprang forward with renewed energy, soonfound the path to the village, pursued it with quickened steps and lightheart, although the rain was now pouring down, accompanied withoccasional flashes of lightning and peals of thunder, and in a fewmoments pushed open the door of the cottage and stepped into theastonished presence of the ladies of the party.
She had not been missed till the approach of the storm drove them allwithin doors; then perceiving that the little girl was not among them,the question passed from one to another, "Where is Lulu?"
No one could say where; Grace remembered that she had gone out intendingto take a stroll along the beach, but did not mention in whichdirection.
"And she has never been known to stay out so late; and--and the tide iscoming in," cried Violet, sinking pale and trembling into a chair. "Oh,mamma, if she is drowned, how shall I answer to my husband for taking solittle care of his child?"
"My dear daughter, don't borrow trouble," Elsie said cheerfully, thoughher own cheek had grown very pale; "it was
in my care he left her, notin yours."
"Don't fret, Vi," Edward said; "I don't believe she's drowned; she hasmore sense than to go where the tide would reach her; but I'll go atonce to look for her, and engage others in the search also."
He started for the door.
"She may be out on the moors, Ned," called Zoe, running after him withhis waterproof coat. "Here, put this on."
"No time to wait for that," he said.
"But you must take time," she returned, catching hold of him andthrowing it over his shoulders; "men have to obey their wives once inawhile; Lu's not drowning; don't you believe it; and she may as well geta wetting as you."
Grace, hiding her head in Violet's lap, was sobbing bitterly, the latterstroking her hair in a soothing way, but too full of grief and alarmherself to speak any comforting words.
"Don't cry, Gracie; and, Vi, don't look so distressed," said Betty."Lulu, like myself, is one of those people that need never be worriedabout--the bad pennies that always turn up again."
"Then she isn't fit for heaven," remarked Rosie in an undertone notmeant for her sister's ear; "but I don't believe," she added in a louderkey, "that there is anything worse the matter than too long a walk forher to get back in good season."
"That is my opinion, Vi," said Mrs. Dinsmore; and Elsie added, "Minealso."
No one spoke again for a moment, and in the silence the heavy boom, boomof the surf on the beach below came distinctly to their ears. Then therewas a vivid flash of lightning and a terrific thunder crash, followedinstantly by a heavy down-pour of rain.
"And she is out in all this!" exclaimed Violet in tones of deepdistress. "Dear child, if I only had her here safe in my arms, or if herfather were here to look after her!"
"And punish her," added Rosie. "It's my humble opinion that if ever agirl of her age needed a good whipping, she does."
"Rosie," said her mother, with unwonted severity, "I cannot allow you totalk in that way. Lulu's faults are different from yours, but perhaps noworse; for while she is passionate and not sufficiently amenable toauthority, you are showing yourself both uncharitable and Pharisaical."
"Well, mamma," Rosie answered, blushing deeply at the reproof, "I cannothelp feeling angry with her for giving poor Vi so much unnecessary worryand distress of mind. And I am sure her father must have felt troubledand mortified by the way she behaved for two or three days while he washere."
"But he loves her very dearly," said Violet; "so dearly that to loseher in this way would surely break his heart."
"But I tell you he is not going to lose her in this way," said Betty ina lively tone; "don't you be a bit afraid of it."
But Violet could not share the comfortable assurance; to her it seemedmore than likely Lulu had been too venturesome, and that a swiftlyincoming wave had carried her off her feet and swept her in its recoilinto the boiling sea.
"I shall never see the dear child again!" was her anguished thought;"and oh, what news to write to her father! He will not blame me, I know,but oh, I cannot help blaming myself that I did not miss her sooner andsend some one to search for and bring her back."
Elsie read her daughter's distress in her speaking countenance, andsitting down by her side tried to cheer her with loving, hopeful words.
"Dear Vi," she said, "I have a strong impression that the child is notlost, and will be here presently. But whatever has happened, or mayhappen, stay your heart, dear one, upon your God; trust Him for thechild, for your husband, and for yourself. You know that troubles do notspring out of the ground, and to His children He gives help anddeliverance out of all He sends them.
"'God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.' 'Heshall deliver thee in six troubles: yea in seven there shall no eviltouch thee.'"
There was perhaps not more than a half hour of this trying suspensebetween Edward's departure in search of the missing child and her suddenappearance in their midst: sudden it seemed because the roar of the seaand howling of the storm drowned all other sounds from without, andprevented any echo of approaching footsteps.
"Lulu!" they all cried in varied tones of surprise and relief, as theystarted up and gathered about her dripping figure.
"Where have you been?"
"How wet you are!"
"Oh, dear child, I am so glad and thankful to see you; I have beenterribly frightened about you!" This last from Violet.
"I--I didn't mean to be out so late or to go so far," stammered Lulu."And I didn't see the storm coming up in time, and it caught andhindered me. Please, Mamma Vi, and Grandma Elsie, don't be angry aboutit. I won't do so again."
"We won't stop to talk about it now," Elsie said, answering for Violetand herself; "your clothes must be changed instantly, for you are as wetas if you had been in the sea; and that with fresh water, so that thereis great danger of your taking cold."
"I should think the best plan would be for her to be rubbed with acoarse towel till reaction sets in fully and then put directly to bed,"said Mrs. Dinsmore. "If that is done we may hope to find her as well inthe morning as if she had not had this exposure to the storm."
Lulu made no objection nor resistance, being only too glad to escape soeasily. Still she was not quite sure that some punishment might not bein store for her on the morrow. And she had an uncomfortable impressionthat were it not for her father's absence it might not be a very lightone.
When she was snugly in bed, Grandma Elsie came to her, bringing with herown hands a great tumbler of hot lemonade.
"Drink this, Lulu," she said, in her own sweet voice and with a lovinglook that made the little girl heartily ashamed of having given so muchtrouble and anxiety; "it will be very good for you, I think, as well aspalatable."
"Thank you, ma'am," Lulu said, tasting it; "it is delicious, so strongof both lemon and sugar."
"I am glad you like it; drink it all if you can," Elsie said.
When Lulu had drained the tumbler it was carried away by Agnes, andGrandma Elsie, sitting down beside the bed, asked, "Are you sleepy, mychild? If you are we will defer our talk till to-morrow morning; if not,we will have it now."
"I'm not sleepy," Lulu answered, blushing and averting her face, addingto herself, "I suppose it's got to come, and I'd rather have it over."
"You know, my child, that in the absence of your father and mine you aremy care and I am responsible for you, while you are accountable to mefor your good or bad behavior. Such being the case, it is now my duty toask you to give an account of your whereabouts and doings in the hoursthat you were absent from us this evening."
Lulu replied by an exact statement of the truth, pleading in excuse forher escapade her father's permission to stroll about the beach, evenalone, her enjoyment of the exercise of walking along the bluff, and herabsorbing interest in the changing beauty of sky and sea--all whichtended to render her oblivious of time and space, so that on beingsuddenly reminded of them she found herself much farther from home thanshe had supposed.
"Was it not merely within certain limits you were given permission toramble about the beach?" Elsie asked gently.
"Yes, ma'am; papa said I was not to go far, and I did not intend to;indeed, indeed, Grandma Elsie, I had not the least intention ofdisobeying, but forgot everything in the pleasure of the walk and thebeautiful sights."
"Do you think that is sufficient excuse, and ought to be accepted asfully exonerating you from blame in regard to this matter?"
"I don't think people can help forgetting sometimes," Lulu replied, atrifle sullenly.
"I remember that in dealing with me as a child my father would nevertake forgetfulness of his orders as any excuse for disobedience; andthough it seemed hard then, I have since thought he was right, becausethe forgetfulness is almost always the result of not having deemed thematter of sufficient importance to duly charge the memory with it.
"In the Bible God both warns us against forgetting and bids us remember:
"'Remember all the commandments of the Lord, and do them.'
"'Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.'
"'Beware lest thou forget the Lord.'
"'The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forgetGod.'
"You see that God does not accept forgetfulness as a sufficient excuse,or any excuse for sin."
"Then you won't, of course," muttered Lulu, carefully avoiding lookinginto the kind face bending over her; "how am I to be punished? I don'tfeel as if anybody has a _right_ to punish me but papa," she added, witha flash of indignant anger.
"I heartily wish he were here to attend to it," was the response, in akindly pitying tone. "But since, unfortunately, he is not, and myfather, too, is absent, the unpleasant duty devolves upon me. I have nothad time to fully consider the matter, but have no thought of being verysevere with you; and perhaps if you knew all the anxiety and soredistress suffered on your account this evening--particularly by yourmamma and little sister--you would be sufficiently punished already."
"Did Mamma Vi care?" Lulu asked, in a half-incredulous tone.
"My child, she was almost distracted," Elsie said. "She loves you forboth your own and your father's sake. Besides, as she repeated again andagain, she was sorely distressed on his account, knowing his love foryou to be so great that to lose you would well-nigh break his heart."
A flash of joy illumined Lulu's face at this new testimony to herfather's love for her, but passed away as suddenly as it came.
"I do feel punished in hearing that you were all so troubled about me,Grandma Elsie," she said, "and I mean to be very, very careful not tocause such anxiety again. Please tell Mamma Vi I am sorry to have givenher pain; but she shouldn't care anything about such a naughty girl."
"That, my child, she cannot help," Elsie said; "she loves your fatherfar too well not to love you for his sake."
After a little more kindly admonitory talk she went away, leaving atender, motherly kiss upon the little girl's lips.
At the door Grace met her with a request for a good-night kiss, whichwas promptly granted.
"Good-night, dear little one; pleasant dreams and a happy awaking, if itbe God's will," Elsie said, bending down to touch her lips to therosebud mouth and let the small arms twine themselves around her neck.
"Good-night, dear Grandma Elsie," responded the child. "Oh, aren't youever so glad God brought our Lulu safely home to us?"
"I am indeed, dear; let us not forget to thank Him for it in our prayersto-night."
Lulu heard, and as Grace's arms went round her neck the next moment, andthe sweet lips, tremulous with emotion, touched her cheek,
"Were you so distressed about me, Gracie?" she asked with feeling. "DidMamma Vi care so very much that I might be drowned?"
"Yes, indeed, Lu, dear Lu; oh, what could I do without my dear sister?"
"You know you have another one now," Suggested Lulu.
"That doesn't make any difference," said Grace. "She's the darling babysister; you are the dear, dear big sister."
"Papa calls me his little girl," remarked Lulu, half musingly; "andsomehow I like to be little to him and big to you. Oh, Gracie, what doyou suppose he will say when he hears about to-night?--my being so bad;and so soon after he went away, too."
"Oh, Lu, what made you?"
"Because I was careless; didn't think; and I begin to believe that itwas because I didn't choose to take the trouble," she sighed. "I'mreally afraid if papa were here I should get just the same sort of apunishment he gave me before. Gracie, don't you ever, ever tell anybodyabout that."
"No, Lu; I promised I wouldn't. But I should think you'd be punishedenough with all the wetting and the fright; for weren't you most scaredto death?"
"No; I was frightened, but not nearly so much as that. Not so much as Ishould be if papa were to walk in just now; because he'd have to hearall about it, and then he'd look so sorry and troubled, and punish mebesides."
"Then you wouldn't be glad to see papa if he came back?" Grace said, ina reproachfully inquiring tone.
"Yes, I should," Lulu answered, promptly; "the punishment wouldn't lastlong, you know; he and I would both get over it pretty soon, and then itwould be so delightful to have him with us again."
Lulu woke the next morning feeling no ill effects whatever from herexposure to the storm.
Before she and Grace had quite finished their morning toilet GrandmaElsie was at their door, asking if they were well. She stayed for alittle chat with them, and Lulu asked what her punishment was to be.
"Simply a prohibition of lonely rambles," Elsie answered, with a gravebut kindly look; "and I trust it will prove all-sufficient; you are tokeep near the rest of us for your own safety."