Elsie's Vacation and After Events

"Tell me the whole story, my child," he said, not unkindly, and still keeping her hand in his.

"I cracked a nut with my teeth, papa," she replied, with her eyes upon the ground, her cheek hot with blushes.

"You forgot that I had forbidden it?"

"No, papa, I haven't even that poor excuse. I remembered all the time that you had forbidden me, but just did it because I wanted to."

"Though I had given you my reason for the prohibition – that you would risk serious damage to your teeth, and probably suffer both pain and the loss of those useful members in consequence. It gives me pain to find that my dear eldest daughter cares so little for her father's wishes or commands."

At that Lulu burst into tears and sobs. "Oh, I hope you'll punish me well for it, papa!" she said. "I deserve it, and I think it would do me good."

"I must indeed punish you for conduct so decidedly rebellious," he replied. "I will either forbid nuts for a week, or refrain from giving you a caress for the same length of time. Which shall it be?"

"O papa, I'd rather do without nuts for the rest of the winter than a whole week without a caress from you!" she exclaimed.

"Very well, then," he said, bending down and touching his lips to her cheek. "I forbid the nuts, and I think I can trust my daughter to obey me by not touching one till she has her father's permission."

"I feel sure I will, papa," she said; "but if I should be so very bad as to disobey you again in this, I will come to you, confess it, and take my punishment without a word of objection."

"I have no doubt of it, daughter," he returned, taking her hand again and leading her back to the house.

The other girls were awaiting with intense interest the reappearance of the captain and Lulu.

"Here they come!" exclaimed Rosie, "and I don't believe he has punished her; there has hardly been time, and though she looks very sober – he, too – she doesn't look at all frightened; nor does he look angry, and he holds her hand in what strikes me as a very affectionate way."

"Yes," said Evelyn, "I think the captain is as good and kind a father as anyone could desire; and I'm sure Lulu's opinion of him is the same."

"Yes, indeed," assented Grace heartily, as she wiped the tears from her eyes, "there couldn't be a better, kinder father than ours, Lulu and I both think; but though he doesn't like to punish us, sometimes he feels that it's his duty to do it to make us good."

"I don't believe you get, or need, punishment very often, Gracie," remarked Rosie; "you are as good as gold; at least so it seems to me."

"I'm not perfect, Rosie; oh, no, indeed!" Gracie answered earnestly; "but papa almost never does anything more than talk in a grave, kind way to me about my faults."

By this time the captain and Lulu had drawn near the house, and, letting go her hand, "You may go back to your mates now, daughter," he said in a kindly tone. "I have some matters to attend to, and if you have anything more to say to me I will hear it at another time."

"Yes, sir," replied Lulu, and went slowly toward the little group under the tree, while her father passed round to the other side of the house.

"He was not very much vexed with you, Lu, was he?" queried Rosie, in a kindly inquiring tone, as Lulu joined them, looking grave and a trifle sad, while traces of tears could be discerned on her cheeks and about her eyes.

"Papa only seemed sorry that – that I could be so disobedient," faltered the little girl, tears starting to her eyes again; "but he always punishes disobedience, – which is just what he ought to do, I am sure, – and he has forbidden me to eat any more nuts for a week. I chose that rather than doing without a caress from him for the same length of time. So you see he was not very severe; not half so severe as I deserved that he should be."

The others agreed with her that it was but a light punishment; then they began talking of something else.

Nuts were a part of the dessert that day, and Lulu, sitting near her father, asked in a low aside, "Papa, mayn't I pick out some kernels for you?"

"If you wish, daughter," he answered; and she performed the little service with evident pleasure.

"Thank you, dear child," he said, with a loving look and smile as she handed them to him. Speaking of it to Violet that night in the privacy of their own room, "I found it hard to take and eat them without sharing with her, the dear, affectionate child!" he said, with feeling, "but I knew it gave her pleasure to do her father that little service. Ah, it is so much pleasanter to fondle and indulge one's children than to reprove or punish them! yet I am sure it is the truest kindness to train them to obedience, as the Bible directs."

"Yes," returned Violet, "and I have often noticed that those parents who do follow that Bible teaching are more loved and respected by their children than the foolishly indulgent ones. And, by the way, how devotedly fond of her father Lulu is! It delights me to see it."

"Me also, my dear," he returned, with a pleased little laugh. "I doubt if any man ever had better, dearer children – speaking of the whole five together – than mine. Nor can I believe that ever a father esteemed his greater treasures than I do mine."

The rest of the winter passed quietly and peacefully to our friends at Viamede, the young folks making good progress with their studies, the older ones finding employment in various ways – the ladies in reading, writing letters, overseeing house and servants, and making and receiving visits; Mr. Dinsmore in much the same manner, except that he gave himself no concern about domestic affairs; while the captain found full employment in instructing his pupils and superintending work on the plantation; but with time enough to spare for participation in the diversions and recreations of the others.

Grandma Elsie had entirely recovered her health, and as spring opened they began to talk of returning to their more northern homes, yet continued to tarry, looking for a visit to Viamede from the dear ones of Ion and Fairview.

And here at beautiful Viamede we will leave them for the present.

THE END