The ponies at once became the greatest pets with their young
mistresses, and soon would come at their call, eat from their hands and
submit to stroking and fondling with as much docility as that of a dog
or cat. It was a great pleasure to the captain to see the delight the
children took in them.
It was some weeks before timid little Gracie would venture to mount
hers, or ride it without “papa” to hold the bridle and walk by her side
to care for her safety; but after awhile she was content to sometimes
let Max take his place, and at length grew bold enough to ride about
the grounds at a moderate pace, guiding her small steed herself with
only Lulu, mounted on Fairy, by her side.
Lulu was allowed to ride her pony within the grounds whenever she
pleased, but strictly forbidden to go outside alone; yet as she could
almost always have the company of her father, Violet or Max, and not
seldom of all three, there was little or no excuse for a desire to
disobey.
But though Lulu had certainly greatly improved, there were still times
when she was seized with the old willfulness and disinclination to
submit to lawful authority; when to have her own way, and be altogether
a law unto herself, seemed a delightful thing, and for a time overcame
the wish to please the father whom she did really love very dearly.
This happened one day a month or more after the gift of the ponies.
Morning lessons were over; Max went to the workroom, having a piece of
carving he wished to finish, and Gracie, for once, preferred playing
with her dolls to riding her pony, so Lulu set out alone with hers, not
with any intention of going beyond the boundaries of the estate.
She rode round the drive, up and down the garden paths, and through
the bit of woods several times, then turned longing eyes upon the road
beyond, which, for some distance, was shaded by overhanging trees, and
did indeed look most inviting.
A side gate stood open, a wagon, carrying some supplies from the house,
having just passed through, and she had reined in her pony close beside
it.
“Why in the world shouldn’t I go out there?” she said, half aloud; “it
couldn’t hurt anybody or any thing for me to ride just a little way
down that shady road. Papa’s reason for forbidding me to walk alone in
such places, was that I might be in danger from tramps; but I’m sure
Fairy could outrun any of them; and so I shouldn’t be in any danger on
her back.”
Conscience whispered that whether she would be in danger or not, the
act would be one of disobedience; but she refused to listen.
The reins were lying loosely on Fairy’s neck, and just at that instant
she started toward the gate of her own accord.
Lulu could have easily restrained her and turned her head another way,
but did not choose to make the effort.
“It’s Fairy’s doing, and I’m not to blame,” she said to herself; “and
I’ll only let her go a little way, I’ll make her turn round in a
minute.”
She did not go very far, but the minute grew into five before Fairy’s
head was turned toward the gate again, ten ere it was re-entered, and
the two pursued their way back to the house.
Lulu found that somehow her ride had ceased to be enjoyable, so
dismounted, turned Fairy into the pasture where she and Elf were
allowed to disport themselves when their services were not required,
sauntered about the garden for a little, then on into the house, vainly
trying all the time to stifle the reproaches of conscience for the act
of disobedience of which she had been guilty.
Presently she went into the library. Violet was there writing letters.
Lulu took possession of the easy-chair usually occupied by her father,
took up a book that lay open on the table beside it, and began to read.
A few moments passed in silence; then Violet, glancing up from her
writing, said gently: “Lulu, dear, that is a book which your father
would not approve of your reading; I am quite sure of it.”
Lulu read on, paying no attention to the remark.
Violet waited a moment, then asked—still speaking in a gentle, kindly
tone—“Did you hear me, Lulu?”
“Of course I did; I’m not deaf,” was the ungracious, not to say rude
rejoinder.
“But you do not close the book.”
“No; if papa doesn’t want me to read books, he shouldn’t leave them
lying around.”
“That is, you would have him treat you as one whom he can not trust?
Whom he considers destitute of a sense of honor? since he has
repeatedly told you, you must not read any book without first making
sure of its being such as he would approve.”
An uneasy conscience made Lulu unusually irritable. “I do wish, Mamma
Vi,” she said pettishly, “you’d let me alone. I—”
“Lulu,” interrupted a voice, speaking from the adjoining room, in
grave, slightly stern accents, “bring that book to me.”
Both Violet and the little girl started at the sound, neither having
had any suspicion of the captain’s near vicinity. He had come in
quietly just in time to overhear the short colloquy, while the
_portiere_ separating the two rooms concealed him from their view. It
was quite accidental; he having no intention or thought of listening to
any thing not meant for his ear.
Violet, not wishing to be witness of a scene between her husband and
his child, quickly and quietly withdrew by way of the hall, while
Lulu rose and obeyed the order, appearing before her father with
flushed face and downcast eyes, and silently placing the book in his
outstretched hand.
He had come in somewhat weary, more in mind than body, and thrown
himself into an easy-chair.
He did not speak for a moment, and she stood, flushed and trembling
before him, her eyes on the carpet.
At length he said, with a heavy sigh and in tones more grave and sad
than stern, “I thought I had, in my Lulu, a daughter whom I could
implicitly trust to be obedient and respectful to me and her mamma,
whether in my presence or absence; I thought she cherished a sincere
affection for her kind young mother, and was quite sure that she
loved, honored and reverenced her father. But what I have accidentally
overheard in the last few minutes has, I am deeply grieved to say,
robbed me of that cheering belief.”
Lulu hastily brushed away a tear. “Papa,” she began in a trembling
voice.
“No,” he said, “I will hear nothing from you now. Go to your room and
stay there till I come to you. I want you to think over your conduct
since leaving the school-room this morning, and after due reflection
upon it, in solitude, give me your honest opinion of it.”
A wave of his hand dismissed her, and she went silently from the room,
up to her own, and sat down by a window overlooking the meadow where
the ponies were browsing.
“I wonder,” she thought, with an added sense of shame and affright, as
her eye fell upon them, “if papa knows where Fairy and I went? he said
my conduct since I left the school-room, and that sounds as if he did.
But I didn’t think any body saw us or would tell on me if he did. Oh, I
wish I hadn’t done so! I wish I hadn’t spoken in that disrespectful way
to Mamma Vi, and about papa! How could I do it and hurt his feelings
so, when I do really love him dearly, dearly, and he’s such a good,
kind father? Oh, I hate you for it, Lulu Raymond, and should like to
give you a good beating! I shan’t make a word of objection if your
father does, and in fact I believe I just hope he will. It’s just what
you deserve and you know it is.”
She was deeply ashamed and the more she dwelt upon her conduct the
more ashamed and penitent she grew. She rose from her chair and walked
restlessly about the room.
“I wonder when papa will come, and what he will say and do to me,” she
sighed to herself. “I’ve been pretty good for quite a while till to-day
and why couldn’t I keep on? why should I turn round all at once and be
so dreadfully bad again? I haven’t been in a passion to be sure, but I
have disobeyed papa in two things, beside speaking disrespectfully to
Mamma Vi and about him. He certainly will have to punish me somehow,
for I know he considers disobedience very, very bad indeed. I think
half the punishment he gave me last time was for disobeying him. And it
was kinder than to let me go on doing that dangerous thing.”
At that moment, glancing from the window, she saw one of the servants
leading Fairy across the yard.
“Ajax,” she called, “what are you doing with my pony?”
The man looked up and answered, “De cap’n tole me for to tote she ’way
off to Roselands. ’Spect Doctah Arthur gwine ride ’im when his hosses
done wored out wid kyarin’ ‘de doctah’ ’bout de roads f’om mornin’ to
night.”
“Dr. Arthur ride that little pony indeed!” exclaimed Lulu. “Why his
legs would drag on the ground!”
She laughed over the ridiculous picture conjured up by the words of
the negro and her own imagination, then began to cry, as she said to
herself, “Papa is sending my pony away to punish me, and maybe he’ll
never let me have her again. I’d ten times rather he’d whip me.”
The door opened and the captain came in.
Lulu started up, hastily brushing away her tears, and stood before him
with drooping head, hotly flushing cheek and fast beating heart.
He took her hand, led her to a chair, sat down and drew her to his side.
“I have come to hear what you have to say as to your opinion of your
own conduct to-day, and any confession your conscience may impel you to
make to your father.”
“Papa,” she burst out, hiding her face in her hands while the hot blood
surged over it and her neck, “I’m ever and ever so sorry and ashamed
of—of the—of what I said to Mamma Vi, and about you! O papa, please,
please forgive me! please believe that I do really love and honor and
reverence you!”
He waited a moment to see if she had finished, then asked gravely, and
with some severity of tone, “Is that _all_ you have to say to me? Have
you no confession of _other_ wrong-doing to make?”
“Yes, sir,” she faltered, her head drooping still lower, “I—I disobeyed
you before that by going outside the grounds.”
“Yes,” he said, “and it so happened that I saw you, having had occasion
just at that time to pay a visit to the observatory at the top of the
house.”
She looked up in surprise, but seeing the expression of grief and
pain in his eyes, dropped her head again, and hiding her face on his
shoulder, sobbed out, “O papa, don’t look so hurt and sorry! I will try
to be a better girl! indeed I will!”
“You have wounded your father’s heart very sorely, little daughter,” he
said with emotion. “How can I be other than hurt and sorry on learning
that my dear child loves me so little that she is ready to speak
disrespectfully of me and to disobey me repeatedly when she thinks I
shall not know it?”
Her tears fell faster and faster at his words, and her sobs grew more
violent.
“O papa, I _do_ love you!” she cried, twining her arms round his neck.
“Oh, please believe me! I’d rather be killed than not to have you
believe that I do!”
“I have no doubt that you have some affection for me,” he said, “but—”
“O papa, a great, _great deal_!” she interrupted, “I’m so angry with
myself for being so disobedient and disrespectful to you, that I want
you to punish me just as hard as you can. Won’t you? and then forgive
me, and love me again?”
“My dear child,” he said, “I have not ceased to love you, very far from
it; you are dearer to me than words can tell. But I can not of course
pass over lightly so flagrant an act of disobedience as you were guilty
of to-day. I must punish you, and I have decided that your punishment
shall be that Fairy shall be taken from you for a week.”
“A week, papa? I was afraid you would never give her back to me; and I
don’t deserve that you should.”
“It grieves me to deprive you of her for even that length of time,” he
said, “and if you are really as penitent as you seem, to lose her for a
week will, I think, be sufficient punishment.”
“Papa, I’m really discouraged with myself,” she sighed. “I thought I’d
learned to be pretty good, so that I would never be disobedient again,
but now I have been.”
“Do not allow yourself to be discouraged in a way that will lead you to
give up trying to improve,” he said, “but let your failures lead you to
try all the harder, and to pray more earnestly and constantly to God
for help. Probably your failure was caused by your having grown too
confident that you were really reformed and so relaxing your efforts
and your watchfulness.”
“Aren’t you quite discouraged about trying to make me a good girl,
papa?” she asked.
“No; I know too well that the battle with our fallen nature is a long
and hard one, and have had too many slips and falls myself to expect
you to gain the victory at once. Also, I believe the promise, ‘Train up
a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart
from it.’ I must go on teaching and training you, praying to God for
wisdom, and for a blessing upon my efforts, trying also to set you a
good example, and God will surely at length fulfill his promise to me.”
“Papa, is making me do without Fairy for a while the only punishment
you are going to give me?”
“I hope that will prove sufficient,” he said; “it pains me to have to
inflict even that, for it has been a delight to me to see the pleasure
you have taken in your pony. But I must train you to obedience, for
that is according to God’s command to me as a parent. You have told me
that you are sorry for your bad behavior to your mamma as well as to
me. I want you to make the same acknowledgment to her.”
“Papa, I do hate to do that. Can’t you tell her so for me?”
“I wish her to hear it from your own lips; and if you are really as
sorry for your misconduct as you profess to be, you will do as I bid
you without my having to resort to compulsion.”
He rose as he spoke, then taking her hand, led her to Violet, who was
sitting in her boudoir.
On seeing them enter she instantly conjectured what was coming, and
sent an entreating glance, on Lulu’s behalf, up into her husband’s
face. But he ignored it.
“Lulu has something to say to you, my dear,” he said, and the little
girl, coloring deeply and keeping her eyes upon the carpet, faltered
out her apology.
“Mamma Vi, I’m sorry I spoke so disrespectfully to you. Please forgive
me and I’ll try not to do so any more.”
“Dear child,” Violet responded, taking Lulu’s free hand and kissing her
affectionately, “I should by no means have required an apology from
you. The offense was but a slight one, is entirely forgiven, and shall
be forgotten as soon as possible.”
“My love, you are very kind to make so light of the offense,” remarked
the captain, “but I consider it a serious one, and shall be very
greatly displeased if there is ever a repetition of it. Both your own
lovely character and the position I have given you in relation to my
children, entitle you to respectful treatment from them, and they must
yield it.”
“I have seldom had any reason to complain of their behavior to me,”
replied Violet; “they are dear children and I can truly say that I love
them every one.”
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, his eyes shining with pleasure.
Then catching a beseeching look from Lulu, he bent down and kissed her,
saying, “All is right between us now, daughter.”
But Lulu’s conscience was not quite at ease; Violet’s words had
called up some memories that troubled it, and her innate honesty and
truthfulness prompted another confession.
“Papa,” she said, bursting into tears, “Mamma Vi is kinder than I
deserve. I have been very naughty to her a number of times, when you
were away and didn’t know any thing about it; so ill-tempered and
disrespectful that you would have punished me severely if you had been
at home to see and hear it all.”
“But that is all past and there is no occasion to bring it up again,”
Violet hastened to say.
“Yet I am glad she has made the confession,” the captain said gravely,
and with a slight sigh, sitting down as he spoke, and drawing Lulu into
his arms, “for it is a proof of honesty and truthfulness that gives me
great hope that my dear, eldest daughter will yet make a noble woman,
the pride and joy of her father’s heart.”
“Dear papa, how kind in you to say that,” sobbed Lulu, hiding her face
on his breast. “Oh, I will try to be every thing you wish.”