CHAPTER IX.
"He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes."--_Prov_. 13: 24.
When the morning boat touched at Nantucket pier there were among thethrong which poured ashore two fine-looking gentlemen--one in the primeof life, the other growing a little elderly--who sought out at once aconveyance to 'Sconset.
The hackman had driven them before, and recognized them with evidentpleasure mingled with surprise.
"Glad to see you back again, capt'n," he remarked, addressing theyounger of his two passengers; "but it's kind of unexpected, isn't it? Iunderstood you'd gone to join your ship, expecting to sail directly forforeign parts."
"Yes, that was all correct," returned Captain Raymond, gayly, for he itwas, in company with Mr. Dinsmore; "but orders are sometimescountermanded, as they were in this instance, to my no small content."
"They'll be dreadful glad to see you at 'Sconset," was the next remark;"surprised, too. By the way, sir, your folks had a fright last evening."
"A fright?" inquired both gentlemen in a breath, and exchanging a lookof concern.
"Yes, sirs; about one of your little girls, capt'n--the oldest one, Iunderstood it was. Seems she'd wandered off alone to Tom Never's Head,or somewhere in that neighborhood, and was caught by the darkness andstorm, and didn't find her way home till the older folks had begun tothink she'd been swept away by the tide, which was coming in, to besure; but they thought it might have been the backward flow of a bigwave that had rushed up a little too quick for her, taking her off herfeet and hurrying her into the surf before she could struggle up again."
All the captain's gayety was gone, and his face wore a pained, troubledlook.
"But she did reach home in safety at last?" he said, inquiringly.
"Oh, yes; all right except for a wetting, which probably did her noharm. But now maybe I'm telling tales out of school," he added, with alaugh. "I shouldn't like to get the little girl into trouble, so I hopeyou'll not be too hard on her, capt'n. I dare say the fright has beenpunishment enough to keep her from doing the like again."
"I wish it may have been," was all the captain said.
Then he fell into a revery so deep that he scarcely caught a word of abrisk conversation, in regard to some of the points of interest on theisland, carried on between Mr. Dinsmore and the hackman.
Lulu was having an uncomfortable day. When she met the family at thebreakfast-table Grandma Rose seemed to regard her with cold displeasure;"Mamma Vi" spoke gently and kindly; hoping she felt no injury from lastnight's exposure, but looked wretchedly ill; and in answer to hermother's inquiries admitted that she had been kept awake most of thenight by a violent headache, to which Rosie added, in an indignant tone,and with an angry glance at Lulu:
"Brought on by anxiety in regard to a certain young miss who is alwaysmisbehaving and causing a world of trouble to her best friends."
"Rose, Rose," Elsie said, reprovingly; "let me hear no more suchremarks, or I shall send you from the table."
Lulu had appeared in their midst, feeling humble and contrite, and hadbeen conscience-smitten at sight of her mamma's pale face; but the sneeron Betty's face, the cold, averted looks of Edward and Zoe, and thenRosie's taunt roused her quick temper to almost a white heat.
She rose, and pushing back her chair with some noise, turned to leavethe table at which she had but just seated herself.
"What is it, Lulu?" asked Grandma Elsie, in a tone of gentle kindliness."Sit still, my child, and ask for what you want."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Lulu. "I do not want anything but to go away.I'd rather do without my breakfast than stay here to be insulted."
"Sit down, my child," repeated Elsie, as gently and kindly as before;"Rosie will make no more unkind remarks; and we will all try to treatyou as we would wish to be treated were we in your place."
No one else spoke. Lulu resumed her seat and ate her breakfast, but withlittle appetite or enjoyment; and on leaving the table tried to avoidcontact with any of those who had caused her offence.
"May I go down to the beach, Grandma Elsie?" she asked, in low,constrained tones, and with her eyes upon the floor.
"If you will go directly there, to the seats under the awning which weusually occupy, and not wander from them farther than they are from thecliff," Elsie answered. "Promise me that you will keep within thosebounds, and I shall know I may trust you; for you are an honest child."
The cloud lifted slightly from Lulu's brow at those kindly words. Shegave the promise, and walked slowly away.
As she descended the stairway that led down the face of the cliff, shesaw that Edward and Zoe were sitting side by side on one of the benchesunder the awning.
She did not fancy their company just now, and knew hers would not beacceptable to them. She thought she would pass them and seat herself inthe sand a little farther on.
Edward was speaking as she came up behind them, and she heard him say,"It was the most uncomfortable meal ever eaten in our family; and allbecause of that ungovernable child."
Lulu flushed hotly, and stepping past turned and confronted him withflashing eyes.
"I heard you, Uncle Edward," she said, "though I had no intention oflistening; and I say it is very unjust to blame me so when it wasRosie's insulting tongue and other people's cold, contemptuous looksthat almost drove me wild."
"You are much too easily driven wild," he said. "It is high time youlearned to have some control over your temper. If I were your father I'dteach it you, even if I must try the virtue of a rod again and again;also you should learn proper submission to authority, if it had to betaught in the same manner."
Lulu was too angry to speak for a moment; she stood silent, tremblingwith passion, but at length burst out: "It's none of your business howpapa manages me, Mr. Travilla; and I'm very glad he's my father insteadof you!"
"You are a very saucy girl, Lulu Raymond," said Zoe, reddening withanger on her husband's account, "and shamefully ungrateful for all Mr.Travilla's kind exertions on your behalf last night."
"Hush, hush, Zoe; do not remind her of it," Edward said. "'A benefitupbraided forfeits thanks.' I should have done quite the same for anyone supposed to be in danger and distress."
"What was it?" asked Lulu; "nobody told me he had done anything."
"He was out for hours in all that storm, hunting you," replied Zoe, witha proudly admiring glance at her husband.
"I'm very much obliged," said Lulu, her voice softening. "And sorry yousuffered on my account," she added.
"I did not suffer anything worth mentioning," he responded; "but yourmamma was sorely distressed--thinking you might be in the sea--and, inconsequence, had a dreadful headache all night. And since such direconsequences may follow upon your disregard for rules and lawfulauthority, Lulu, I insist that you shall be more amenable to them.
"I believe you think that when your father and grandpa are both away youcan do pretty much as you please; but you shall not while I am about. Iwon't have my mother's authority set at defiance by you or any oneelse."
"Who wants to set it at defiance?" demanded Lulu, wrathfully. "Not I, Iam sure. But I won't be ruled by you, for papa never said I should."
"I think I shall take down this conversation and report it to him,"Edward said, only half in earnest.
Lulu turned quickly away, greatly disturbed by the threat, but resolvedthat her alarm should not be perceived by either him or Zoe. Walking afew yards from them, she sat down upon the sand and amused herselfdigging in it, but with thoughts busied with the problem, "What willpapa say and do if that conversation is reported to him?"
A very little consideration of the question convinced her that ifpresent her father would say she had been extremely impertinent, punishher for it, and make her apologize.
Presently a glance toward the cottages on the bluff showed her Violetand Grace descending the stairway. She rose and hurried to meet them.
"Mamma Vi," she said, as soon as within hearing, "I am
ever so sorry tohave frightened you so last night and given you a headache. But yououghtn't to care whether such a naughty girl as I am is drowned or not."
"How can you talk so, Lulu dear?" Violet answered, putting an arm roundthe child's waist and giving her a gentle kiss. "Do you think your MammaVi has no real love for you? If so, you are much mistaken. I love you,Lulu, for yourself, and dearly for your father's sake. Oh, I wish youloved him well enough to try harder to be good in order to add to hishappiness; it would add to it more than anything else that I know of.Your naughtiness does not deprive you of his fatherly affection, but itdoes rob him of much enjoyment which he would otherwise have."
Lulu hung her head in silence, turned, and walked away full ofself-accusing and penitent thoughts. She was not crying; tears did notcome so readily to her eyes as to those of many children of her age, buther heart was aching with remorseful love for her absent father.
"To think that I spoiled his visit home," she sighed to herself. "Oh, Iwish he could come back to have it over again, and I would try to begood and not spoil his enjoyment in the very least!"
"Come back now?" something seemed to reply; "suppose he should; wouldn'the punish you for your behavior since he left, only two days ago?"
"Yes," she sighed; "I haven't the least doubt that if he were here andknew all he would punish me severely again; and I suppose he wouldn't belong in the house before he would hear it all; yet for all that I shouldbe--oh, so glad if he could come back to stay a good while."
Last night's storm had spent itself in a few hours, and the morning wasbright and clear; yet a long drive planned for that day by our friendswas unanimously postponed, as several of them had lost sleep, and wantedto make it up with a nap.
Violet sought her couch immediately after dinner, slept off the lastremains of her headache, and about the middle of the afternoon waspreparing to go down to the beach, where all the others were, exceptGrace, who was seldom far from mamma's side, when the outer door opened,and a step and voice were heard which she had not hoped to hear againfor months or years.
The next moment she was in her husband's arms, her head pillowed on hisbreast, while his lips were pressed again and again to brow and cheekand lips, and Grace's glad shout arose, in sweet, silvery tones, "Papahas come back! Papa has come back! My dear, dear papa!"
"Can it be possible, my dear, dear husband?" cried Violet, lifting tohis a face radiant with happiness. "It seems too good to be true."
"Not quite so good as that," he said, with a joyous laugh, "But it isquite a satisfaction to find that you are not sorry to see me."
"Of which you were terribly afraid, of course," she returned, gayly. "Dotell me at once how long our powers of endurance of such uncongenialsociety are to be taxed?"
"Ah, that is beyond my ability."
"Then we may hope for weeks or months?" she said, rapturously.
"Certainly we are not forbidden to hope," he answered, smiling tenderlyupon her.
"Oh, I am so glad!" she said, with a happy sigh, leaning her head on hisshoulder and gazing fondly up into his face, his right arm about herwaist, while Grace clung to the other hand, holding it lovingly betweenher own and pressing her lips to it again and again.
"Ah, my darling little girl," he said presently, letting Violet go totake Grace in his arms. "Are you glad to see papa back again so soon?"
"Oh, yes, indeed; nothing else could have made me so very, very glad!"she cried, hugging him close, and giving and receiving many tendercaresses.
"But how did it happen. Levis?" Violet was asking.
"Through some unlooked-for change in the plans and purposes of thehigher powers," he answered, lightly. "My orders were countermanded,with no reasons given, and I may remain with my family till furtherorders; and, as you say, we will hope it may be months before they arereceived."
"And you were glad to come back to us?" Violet said, inquiringly, butwith not a shade of doubt in her tones.
"Yes, yes indeed; I was full of joy till I heard that one of my childrenhad been disobeying me, bringing serious consequences upon herself andothers."
His countenance had grown very grave and stern. "Where is Lulu?" heasked, glancing about in search of her.
"Down on the beach with mamma and the rest," Violet answered.
"Can you give me a true and full account of her behavior since I havebeen away?" he asked.
"My dear husband," Violet said, entreatingly, "please do not ask me."
"Pardon me, dearest," he returned. "I should not have asked you; Lulumust tell me herself; thankful I am that many and serious as are herfaults, she is yet so honest and truthful that I can put full confidencein her word and feel sure that she will not deceive me, even to saveherself from punishment."
"I think that is high praise, and that Lulu is deserving of it,"remarked Violet, glad of an opportunity to speak a word in the child'sfavor.
Captain Raymond gave her a pleased, grateful look. "You were going tothe beach, were you not?" he said. "Then please go on; I shall followafter I have settled this matter with Lulu. There can be no comfort forher or myself till it is settled. Gracie, go and tell your sister tocome here to me immediately."
"Do be as lenient as your sense of duty will allow, dear husband,"whispered Violet in his ear, then hastened on her way.
Grace was lingering, gazing at him with wistful, tear-filled eves.
"What is it?" he asked, bending down to smooth her hair caressingly."You should go at once, little daughter, when papa bids."
"I would, papa, only--only I wanted to--to ask you not to punish Luluvery hard."
"I am glad my little Gracie loves her sister," he said; "and you neednever doubt, my darling, that I dearly love both her and you. Go nowand give her my message."
All day long Lulu had kept herself as far apart from the others--hersister excepted--as lay in her power. She was sitting now alone in thesand, no one within several yards of her, her hands folded in her lap,while she gazed far out to sea, her eyes following a sail in the distantoffing.
"Perhaps it is papa's ship," she was saying to herself. "Oh, how longwill it be before we see him again! And oh, how sorry he will be when hehears about last night and this morning!"
At that instant she felt Grace's arms suddenly thrown round her, whilethe sweet child voice exclaimed, in an ecstasy of delight, "Oh, Lu, he_has_ come! he _has_, he _has_!"
"Who?" Lulu asked, with a start and tremble that reminded Grace of themessage she had to deliver, and that Lulu's pleasure at their father'sunexpected return could not be so unalloyed as her own; all which shehad forgotten for the moment in the rapture of delight she herself feltat his coming.
"Papa, Lulu," she answered, sobering down, a good deal; "and I was 'mostforgetting that he sent me to tell you to come to him immediately."
"Did he?" Lulu asked, trembling more than before. "Does he know aboutlast night, Gracie? Did Mamma Vi tell him?"
"He knows 'bout it; somebody told him before he got to 'Sconset," saidGrace. "But mamma didn't tell him at all; he asked her, but she beggedhim to please not ask her. Mamma doesn't ever tell tales on us, I'msure."
"No, I don't believe she does. But what did papa say then?"
"That you should tell him all about it yourself; you were an honestchild, serious as your faults were, and lie could trust you to own thetruth, even when you were to be punished for it. But, Lulu, you have togo right up to the house; papa said 'immediately.'"
"Yes," Lulu replied, getting upon her feet very slowly, and looking agood deal frightened; "did papa seem very angry?"
"I think he intends to punish you," Grace replied, in a sorrowful tone;"but maybe he won't if you say you're sorry and won't do so any more.But hurry, Lulu, or he may punish you for not obeying promptly."
"Is Mamma Vi there?" asked Lulu, still lingering.
"No; yonder she is; don't you see?" said Grace, nodding her head in thedirection of the awning under which nearly their whole party were nowseated: "there's nobody there but papa
. Oh hurry, Lulu, or he will whipyou, I'm afraid."
"Don't you ever say that before anybody, Gracie," Lulu said, low andtremulously; then turned and walked rapidly toward the stairway that ledup the bluff to the cottages.
At a window looking toward the bluff the captain stood, watching forLulu's coming.
"She is not yielding very prompt obedience to the order," he said tohimself; "but what wonder? The poor child doubtless dreads theinterview extremely; in fact, _I_ should be only too glad to escape it;'tis no agreeable task to have to deal out justice to one's own child--achild so lovable, in spite of her faults. How much easier to pass thematter over slightly, merely administering a gentle reprimand! But no, Icannot; 'twould be like healing slightly the festering sore thatthreatens the citadel of life. I must be faithful to my God-given trust,however trying to my feelings. Ah, there she is!" as a little figureappeared at the top of the staircase and hurried across the interveningspace to the open doorway.
There she halted, trembling and with downcast eyes. It was a minute ormore before she ventured to lift them, and then it was a very timidglance she sent in her father's direction.
He was looking at her with a very grave, rather stern, countenance, andher eyes fell again, while still she shrank from approaching him.
"You are not very glad to see me, I think," he said, holding out hishand, but with no relaxing of the sternness of his expression.
"Oh, papa, yes! yes, indeed I am!" she burst out, springing to his sideand putting her hand in his, "even though I suppose you are going topunish me just as you did the last time."
He drew her to his knee, but without offering her the slightest caress.
"Won't you kiss me, papa?" she asked, with a little sob.
"I will; but you are not to take it as a token of favor; only of yourfather's love that is never withdrawn from you, even when he is mostsevere in the punishment of your faults," he answered, pressing his lipsagain and again to forehead, cheeks, and lips. "What have you done thatyou expect so severe a punishment?"
"Papa, you know, don't you?" she said, hiding her blushing face on hisbreast.
"I choose to have you tell me; I want a full confession of all thewrong-doing you have been guilty of since I left you the other day."
"I disobeyed you last night, papa, about taking a long walk by myself;but it was because I forgot to notice how far I was going; at least, Ididn't notice," she stammered, remembering that she had wilfullyrefrained from so doing.
"You forgot? forgot to pay attention to your father's commands? did notthink them of sufficient importance for you to take the trouble toimpress them upon your mind. I cannot accept that excuse as a good andsufficient one.
"And, tell me honestly, are you not, as I strongly suspect, less carefulto obey your father's orders when he is away, so that you feel yourselfin a measure out of his reach, than when he is close at hand?"
"Papa, you ask such hard questions," she said.
"Hard to my little daughter only because of her own wrong-doing. Buthard or easy, they must be answered. Tell me the truth, would you nothave been more careful to keep within prescribed bounds last night if Ihad been at home, or you had known that you would see me here to-day?"
"Yes, papa," she answered, in a low, unwilling tone. "I don't thinkanybody else can have quite so much authority over me as you, and--andso I do, I suppose, act a little more as if I could do as I please whenyou are away."
"And that after I have explained to you again and again that in myabsence you are quite as much under the authority of the kind friendswith whom I have placed you as under mine when I am with you. I seethere is no effectual way to teach you the lesson but by punishing youfor disregarding it."
Then he made her give him a detailed account of her ramble of the nightbefore and its consequences.
When she had gone as far in the narrative as her safe arrival among thealarmed household, he asked whether her Grandma Elsie inflicted anypunishment upon her.
"No, sir," answered Lulu, hanging her head and speaking in a sullentone. "I told her I didn't feel as if anybody had any right to punish mebut you."
"Lulu I did you dare to talk in that way to her?" exclaimed the captain."I hope she punished you for your impertinence; for if she did not Icertainly must."
"She lectured me then, and this morning told me my punishment was aprohibition against wandering away from the rest more than just a fewyards.
"But, papa, they were all so unkind to me at breakfast--I mean all butGrandma Elsie and Mamma Vi and Gracie. Betty looked sneering, and theothers so cold and distant, and Rosie said something very insultingabout my being a bad, troublesome child and frightening Mamma Vi into aheadache."
"Certainly no more than you deserved," her father said. "Did you bearit with patience and humility, as you ought?"
"Do you mean that I must answer you, papa?"
"Most assuredly I do; tell me at once exactly what you did and said."
"I don't want to, papa," she said, half angrily.
"You are never to say that when I give you an order," he returned, in atone of severity; "never venture to do it again. Tell me, word for word,as nearly as you can remember it, what reply you made to Rosie's taunt."
"Papa, I didn't say anything to her; I just got up and pushed back mychair, and turned to leave the table. Then Grandma Elsie asked me what Iwanted, and I said I didn't want anything, but would rather go withoutmy breakfast than stay there to be insulted. Then she told me to sitdown and eat, and Rosie wouldn't make any more unkind speeches."
"Were they all pleasant to you after that?" he asked.
"No, papa; they haven't been pleasant to me at all to-day; and UncleEdward has said hateful things about me, and to me," she went on, hercheek flushing and her eyes flashing with anger, half forgetting, inthe excitement of passion, to whom she was telling her story, andshowing her want of self-control.
"And I very much fear," he said, gravely, "that you were both passionateand impertinent. Tell me just what passed."
"If I do you'll punish me, I know you will," she burst out. "Papa, don'tyou think it's a little mean to make me tell on myself and then punishme for what you find out in that way?"
"If my object was merely to give you pain, I think it would be meanenough," he said, not at all unkindly; "but as I am seeking your bestinterests--your truest happiness--in trying to gain full insight intoyour character and conduct, meaning to discipline you only for yourhighest good, I think it is not mean or unkind. From your unwillingnessto confess to me, I fear you must have been in a great passion and veryimpertinent. Is it not so?"
"Papa, I didn't begin it; if I'd been let alone I shouldn't have got ina passion or said anything saucy."
"Possibly not; but what is that virtue worth which cannot stand theleast trial? You must learn to rule your own spirit, not only wheneverything goes smoothly with you, but under provocation; and in orderto help you to learn that lesson--or rather as a means toward teachingit to you--I shall invariably punish any and every outbreak of temperand every impertinence of yours that come under my notice when I am athome. Now, tell me exactly what passed between your Uncle Edward andyourself."
Seeing there was no escape for her, Lulu complied, faithfully repeatingevery word of the short colloquy at the beach when she went down theredirectly after breakfast.
Her father listened in astonishment, his face growing sterner everymoment.
"Lucilla," he said, "you are certainly the most impertinent, insolentchild I ever saw! I don't wonder you were afraid to let me know thewhole truth in regard to this affair. I am ashamed of your conducttoward both your Grandma Elsie and your Uncle Edward. You must apologizeto both of them, acknowledging that you have been extremely impertinent,and asking forgiveness for it."
Lulu made no reply; her eyes were downcast, her face was flushed withpassion, and wore a stubborn look.
"I won't;" the words were on the tip of her tongue; she had almostspoken them, but restrained herself just in time; her fat
her's authoritywas not to be defied, as she had learned to her cost a year ago.
He saw the struggle that was going on in her breast. "You must do it,"he said; "you may write your apologies, though, if you prefer that tospeaking them."
He opened a writing-desk that stood on a table close at hand, and seatedher before it with paper, pen, and ink, and bade her write, at hisdictation.
She did not dare refuse, and had really no very strong disinclination todo so in regard to the first, which was addressed to Grandma Elsie--alady so gentle and kind that even proud Lulu was willing to humbleherself to her.
But when it came to Edward's turn her whole soul rose up in rebellionagainst it. Yet she dared not say either "I won't" or "I don't want to."But pausing, with the pen in her fingers:
"Papa," she began timidly, "please don't make me apologize to him; hehad no right to talk to me the way he did."
"I am not so sure of that," the captain said. "I don't blame him fortrying to uphold his mother's authority; and now I think of it, you areto consider yourself under his control in the absence of your mamma andthe older persons to whom I have given authority over you. Begin at onceand write what I have told you to."
When the notes were written, signed, and folded he put them in hispocket, turned and paced the floor.
Lulu, glancing timidly into his face, saw that it was pale and full ofpain, but very stern and determined.
"Papa, are you--are you going to punish me?" she asked, tremulously. "Imean as you did the other day?"
"I think I must," he said, pausing beside her, "though it grieves me tothe very heart to do it; but you have been disobedient, passionate, andvery impertinent; it is quite impossible for me to let you slip. But youmay take your choice between that and being locked up in the bedroomthere for twenty-four hours, on bread and water. Which shall it be?"
"I'd rather take the first, papa," said Lulu, promptly, "because it willbe over in a few minutes, and nobody but ourselves need know anythingabout it."
"I made sure you would choose the other," he said, in some surprise;"yet I think your choice is wise. Come!"
"Oh, papa, I'm so frightened," she said, putting her trembling hand inhis; "you did hurt me so dreadfully the other time; must you be assevere to-day?"
"My poor child, I am afraid I must," he said; "a slight punishment seemsto avail nothing in your case, and I must do all in my power to make youa good, gentle, obedient child."
A few minutes later Captain Raymond joined the others on the beach, butLulu was not with him. She had been left behind in the bedroom, whereshe must stay, he told her, until his return.
Everybody seemed glad to see him; but after greeting them all in turn,he drew Violet to a seat a little apart from the others.
Grace followed, of course, keeping close to her father's side. "Where isLulu, papa?" she asked with a look of concern,
"Up at the house."
"Won't you let her come down here, papa? She loves so to be close downby the waves."
"She may come after a little," he said, "but not just now." Then takingtwo tiny notes from his pocket: "Here, Gracie," he said, "take this toyour Grandma Elsie and this to your Uncle Edward."
"Yes, sir; must I wait for an answer?"
"Oh, no," he replied, with a slight smile; "you may come right back toyour place by papa's side."
Elsie read the little missive handed her at a glance, rose up hastily,and went to the captain with it in her hand, a troubled look on herface.
"My dear captain," she said, in a tone of gentle remonstrance, "why didyou do this? The child's offence against me was not a grave one in myesteem, and I know that to one of her temperament it would be extremelygalling to be made to apologize. I wish you had not required it of her."
"I thought it for her good, mother," he answered; "and I think so still;she is so strongly inclined to impertinence and insubordination that Imust do all in my power to train her to proper submission to lawfulauthority and respect for superiors."
Edward joined them at that moment. He looked disturbed and chagrined.
"Really, captain," he said, "I am not at all sure that Lulu has not asmuch right to an apology from me as I to this from her. I spoke to herin anger, and with an assumption of authority to which I really had noright, so that there was ample excuse for her not particularlyrespectful language to me. I am sorry, therefore, she has had the painof apologizing."
"You are very kind to be so ready to over look her insolence," thecaptain said; "but I cannot permit such exhibitions of temper, and must,at whatever cost, teach her to rule her own spirit."
"Doubtless you are right," Edward said; "but I am concerned andmortified to find that I have got her into such disgrace and trouble. Imust own I am quite attached to Lulu; she has some very noble andlovable traits of character."
"She has indeed," said his mother; "she is so free from the least taintof hypocrisy or deceit; so perfectly honest and truthful; sowarm-hearted, too; so diligent and energetic in anything she undertakesto do--very painstaking and persevering--and a brave, womanly littlething."
The captain's face brightened very much as he listened to these praisesof his child.
"I thank you heartily, mother and brother," he said; "for the child isvery dear to her father's heart, and praise of her is sweet to my ear. Ican see all these lovable traits, but feared that to other eyes thanmine they might be entirely obscured by the very grave faults joinedwith them. But it is just like you both to look at the good rather thanthe evil.
"And you have done so much for my children! I assure you I often thinkof it with the feeling that you have laid me under obligations which Ican never repay."
"Ah, captain," Elsie said, laughingly, "you have a fashion of making agreat mountain out of a little mole-hill of kindness. Flattery is notgood for human nature, you know, so I shall leave you and go back topapa, who has a wholesome way of telling me of my faults and failings."
"I really don't know where he finds them," returned Captain Raymond,gallantly; but she was already out of hearing.
"Nor I," said Violet, replying to his last remark; "mamma seems to meto be as nearly perfect as a human creature can be in this sinfulworld."
"Now don't feel troubled about it, Ned," Zoe was saying to her husband,who was again at her side. "I think it was just right that she should bemade to apologize to you, for she was dreadfully saucy."
"Yes; but I provoked her, and I ought to be, and am, greatly ashamed ofit. I fear, too, that in so doing I have brought a severe punishmentupon her."
"Why should you think so?"
"Because I know that such a task could not fail to be exceedinglyunpalatable to one of her temperament; and don't you remember how longshe stood out against her father's authority last summer when he badeher ask Vi's pardon for impertinence to her?"
"Yes; it took nearly a week of close confinement to make her do it; butas he showed himself so determined in that instance, she probably sawthat it would be useless to attempt opposition to his will in this, andso obeyed without being compelled by punishment."
"Well, I hope so," he said. "She surely ought to know by this time thathe is not one to be trifled with."
It seemed to Lulu a long time that she was left alone, shut up in thelittle bedroom of the cottage, though it was in reality scarcely morethan half an hour. She was very glad when at last she heard her father'sstep in the outer room, then his voice as he opened the door and asked,"Would you like to take a walk with your papa, little girl?"
"Yes indeed, papa!" was her joyful reply.
"Then put on your hat and come."
She made all haste to obey.
"Is Gracie going too, papa? or anybody else?" she asked, putting herhand confidingly into his.
"No; you and I are going alone this time; do you think you will find mycompany sufficient for once?" he asked, smiling down at her.
"Oh yes, indeed, papa; I think it will be ever so nice to have you allto myself; it's so seldom I can."
Th
ey took the path along the bluffs toward "Tom Never's Head."
When they had fairly left the village behind, so that no one couldoverhear anything they might say to each other, the captain said, "Iwant to have a talk with you, daughter, and we may as well take it outhere in the sweet fresh air, as shut up in the house."
"Oh, yes, papa; it is so much pleasanter! I can hardly bear to stay inthe house at all down here at the seashore; and it seemed a long whilethat you left me alone there this afternoon."
"Yes, I suppose so: and I hope I shall not have occasion to do so again.My child, did you ever consider what it is that makes you so rebellious,so unwilling to submit to authority, and so ready to fly into a passionand speak insolently to your superiors?"
"I don't quite understand you papa," she said. "I only know that I can'tbear to have people try to rule me who have no right."
"Sometimes you are not willing to be ruled even by your father; yet Ihardly suppose you would say he has no right?"
"Oh, no, papa; I know better than that," she said, blushing and hangingher head; "I know you have the best right in the world."
"Yet sometimes you disobey me; at others obey in an angry, unwilling waythat shows you would rebel if you dared.
"And pride is at the bottom of it all. You think so highly of yourselfand your own wisdom that you cannot bear to be controlled or treated asone not capable of guiding herself.
"But the Bible tells us that God hates pride. 'Every one that is proudin heart is an abomination to the Lord; though hand join in hand, heshall not be unpunished.'
"'Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.'
"'Proud and haughty scorner is his name who dealeth in proud wrath.'
"Ah, my dear daughter, I am sorely troubled when I reflect how often youdeal in that. My great desire for you is that you may learn to rule yourown spirit; that you may become meek and lowly in heart, patient andgentle like the Lord Jesus, 'who when He was reviled, reviled not again;when He suffered, He threatened not; but committed Himself to Him thatjudgeth righteously.' Do you never feel any desire to be like Him?"
"Yes, papa, sometimes; and I determine that I will; but the first thingI know I'm in a passion again; and I get so discouraged that I thinkI'll not try any more to be good; for I just can't."
"It is Satan who puts that thought in your heart," the captain said,giving her a look of grave concern; "he knows that if he can persuadeyou to cease to fight against the evil that is in your nature he is sureto get possession of you at last.
"He is a most malignant spirit, and his delight is in destroying souls.The Bible bids us, 'Be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary thedevil as a roaring lion walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.'
"We are all sinners by nature, and Satan, and many lesser evil spiritsunder him, are constantly seeking our destruction; therefore we have awarfare to wage if we would attain eternal life, and no one who refusesor neglects to fight this good fight of faith will ever reach heaven;nor will any one who attempts it without asking help from on high.
"So if you give up trying to be good you and I will have a sad time;because it will be my duty to compel you to try. The Bible tells me,'Withhold not correction from the child; for if thou beatest him withthe rod he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shaltdeliver his soul from hell.'
"I must if possible deliver you from going to that awful place, and alsofrom the dreadful calamities indulgence of a furious temper sometimesbrings even in this life; even a woman has been known to commit murderwhile under the influence of unbridled rage; and I have known of one wholamed her own child for life in a fit of passion.
"Sometimes people become deranged simply from the indulgence of theirtempers. Do you think I should be a good and kind father if I allowedyou to go on in a path that leads to such dreadful ends here andhereafter?"
"No, sir," she said in an awed tone; "and I will try to control mytemper."
"I am glad to hear that resolve," he replied. "The Bible tells us, 'Hethat is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth hisspirit than he that taketh a city.'"
They were silent for a little while, then hanging her head and blushing,"Papa," she asked, "what did you do with those notes you made me write?"
"Sent them to those to whom they were addressed. And they were verykind, Lulu; much kinder than you deserved they should be; both yourGrandma Elsie and your Uncle Edward expressed regret that you had beenmade to apologize, and spoke of you in affectionate terms."
"I'm glad,'" she said with a sigh of relief; "and I don't mean ever tobe at all impertinent to them again."
"I trust you will not indeed," he said.
"Papa, I think this is about where I was the other evening when I firstnoticed that the storm was coming."
"A long way from home for a child of your age; especially alone and atnight. You must not indulge your propensity for wandering to a distancefrom home by yourself. You are too young to understand the danger of it;too young to be a guide to yourself, and must therefore be content to beguided by older and wiser people.
"You said, a while ago, 'I just can't be good;' did you mean to assertthat you could not help being disobedient to me that evening?"
She hung her head and colored deeply. "It was so pleasant to walk alonglooking at the beautiful, changing sea, papa," she said, "that Icouldn't bear to stop, and wouldn't let myself think how far I wasgoing."
"Ah, just as I suspected; your could not was really would not; thedifficulty all in your will. You must learn to conquer your will when itwould take you in the wrong direction.
"We will turn and go back now, as it is not far from tea-time."
Lulu shrank from meeting the rest of their party, particularly GrandmaElsie and Edward; but they all treated her so kindly that she was soonat her ease among them again.