ntirely ready for any event was
she.

Finding his presence apparently a source of strength and consolation,
not only to his young wife, but to all the members of the stricken
household, he remained till after tea, but then returned home for the
night, principally for Lulu's sake; not being willing to leave the child
alone, or nearly so, in that great house.

CHAPTER XII.

The duties of the schoolroom had filled up the rest of the morning for
Lulu, so occupying her mind that she could give only an occasional
thought to the sad fact that she was in disgrace with her father.

Then came dinner, which she took in the dining-room, feeling it lonely
enough with the whole family absent; immediately after that a music
lesson filled another hour, and that was followed by an hour of practice
on the piano.

Then Alma wanted her again, and then, knowing it was what her father
would approve, she took her usual exercise about the grounds; after
which she prepared her lessons for the next day.

But all the time her heart was heavy with the consciousness that "papa,
dear papa," was displeased with her, and she felt that there could be no
happiness for her till she had made her peace with him.

"Oh," she sighed again and again, "will he never, never come, that I may
tell him how sorry and ashamed I am?"

But when tea-time came he was still absent, and that meal also had to be
taken alone.

She did not linger at the table, and on leaving it went into the library
where a wood fire blazed cheerfully on the hearth, for the evenings were
now quite cool, and settling herself in an easy-chair listened for the
sound of his coming.

She was too much disturbed, and too anxious to read or work, so sat
doing nothing but listen intently for the sound of horses' hoofs or
carriage-wheels on the drive without.

"Will he punish me?" she was asking herself. "I believe I want him to,
for I'm sure I richly deserve it. Oh, there he is! I hear his voice in
the hall!" and her heart beat fast as she sprang up and ran to meet him.

He was already at the door of the room when she reached it.

"Papa," she said humbly, and with her eyes on the carpet, "I--I'm very,
very sorry for my naughtiness this morning. I have obeyed you--asked
Alma's pardon--and--please, dear papa, won't you forgive me, too?"

"Certainly, dear child," he said, bending down to press a kiss upon her
lips. "I am always ready to forgive my dear children when they tell me