reply to Aunt Dinah's reproof, and told,
without any extenuation of the hard facts, how the baby girl, escaping
from her nurse's watchful care for a moment, had toddled along to her
sister, caught at her skirts for support, and received a savage kick,
that sent her down the steps to the gravel-walk below.

The captain heard the story with ever increasing, burning indignation.
Lulu's act seemed the very wantonness of cruelty,--a most cowardly
attack of a big, strong girl upon a tiny, helpless creature, who had an
indisputable claim upon her tenderest protecting care.

By the time the story had come to an end, he was exceedingly angry with
Lulu; he felt that in this instance it would be no painful task to him
to chastise her with extreme severity; in fact, he dared not go to her
at once, lest he should do her some injury; he had never yet punished a
child in anger; he had often resolved that he never would, but would
always wait till the feeling of love for the delinquent was uppermost in
his heart, so that he could be entirely sure his motive was a desire for
the reformation of the offender, and not the gratification of his own
passion.

Feeling that he had a battle to fight with himself ere he dared venture
to discipline his child, and that he must have solitude for it, he
strode away down the avenue, turned into a part of the grounds but
little frequented, and there paced back and forth, his arms folded on
his breast, his head bent, his heart going up in silent prayer for
strength to rule his own spirit, for patience and wisdom according to
his need.

Then he strove to recall all that was lovable about his wayward little
daughter, and to think of every possible excuse for the dreadful deed
she had done, yet without being able to find any that deserved the name.

At length, feeling that the victory was at least partially won, and
filled with anxiety about the baby, he began to retrace his steps toward
the house.

In the avenue, he met Edward and Zoe, who greeted him with joyful
surprise, not having before known of his arrival.

The expression of his countenance told them that he was already informed
of the sad occurrence of the morning; and Edward said with heartfelt
sympathy, "It is but a sad home-coming for you, captain, but let us try
to hope for the best: it is possible the little darling has not received
any lasting injury."

A silent pressure of the hand was the captain's only reply for the
moment. He s