Every hour of the sojourn at Nantucket had been enjoyed by the
Raymonds, yet when they came in sight of Woodburn, with its lawn trees,
shrubbery and woods glorious in their autumn robes of crimson, scarlet,
russet and gold, every face was wreathed in smiles.
“Fleeting glories, but very beautiful while they last,” remarked the
captain.
“Yes, indeed,” said Violet; “I know no more charming place than home
after all!”
“Such a home as ours, Mamma Vi,” supplemented Max.
“Yes; it is just the very sweetest of homes,” cried Lulu, with
enthusiasm. “And yet it is nice to go away to the sea sometimes.”
“Yes,” replied her father, “change is pleasant and beneficial to almost
every one; and no doubt we shall enjoy our own home all the more for
having been absent from it for a time.”
The carriage drew up at the door, and they all alighted, to receive a
joyous welcome from Christine and the servants gathered about it.
A delicious supper was waiting, and was presently served up. Ample
justice was done it by the hungry travellers, especially the children.
Then, as there was still a good half-hour of daylight, they roamed over
house and grounds, delighted to renew their acquaintance with all their
old familiar haunts, and greatly pleased to find every thing in perfect
order.
The weather was charming, both on that day and for several subsequent
days, and the captain and Violet thought it well to take advantage of
it for paying and receiving visits among the family connection, before
settling down to the regular routine of home duties and occupations.
The days were pretty well-filled up with walks, rides, drives, and
social gatherings.
After that, while Violet busied herself with the oversight of
dressmakers and seamstresses, the captain resumed his duties as owner
of the estate, employer of household servants and out-of-door workmen,
and tutor to his children; the latter being required to at once begin
again their long-neglected studies.
Confinement to the house for several hours on the stretch, and
steady application to their books, were at first irksome; but papa
was lenient, and his pupils were sincerely desirous to merit his
approbation. There were no reprimands or complaints; study hours were
made short, and the afternoon walks and rides on the ponies found all
the more enjoyable for the industry that had preceded them.
But the second week of November brought with it a long, cold rain-storm
that put an end, for the time, to all out-door diversions.
Both Max and Lulu had always been very fond of exercise in the open
air, and now found it extremely wearisome to be shut up in the house
day after day. Lulu’s trial of the confinement and sameness was rather
more continuous than her brother’s, as he could occasionally venture
out in weather which their father considered quite too inclement to be
braved by a little girl.
She had been remarkably good, docile and obedient for months; ever
since that time when she had had to do without Fairy for a week. She
began to look upon herself as quite a reformed character; but her
father, though greatly pleased and encouraged by the improvement in her
behavior, felt quite certain that there would be times when the old
tempers and habits would resume their sway for a season.
One morning when the sun had scarcely shown his face for a week,
Lulu woke feeling dull and irritable; all the more out of humor on
discovering that she had overslept herself, and would have scarcely
time to attend properly to the duties of the toilet before the
breakfast-bell would ring.
She sprang up and began dressing in feverish haste.
Punctuality was one of the minor virtues which the captain was
particular in enforcing; but to appear at the table looking otherwise
than neat, would be a still more serious breach of discipline than to
be a trifle behind time.
“Oh, dear, why did I sleep so late?” she said, giving herself an
impatient shake. “I sha’n’t have time to do every thing I ought to and
get to the dining-room to sit down with the rest, and papa will be
displeased; and I do so hate to have him displeased with me. There, I
hear his voice in the next room! Gracie will have him all to herself,
and I shall miss every bit of the nice talk before breakfast.”
The old adage, “The more haste, the less speed,” found exemplification
in her experience on this occasion. In vain she tried to dress with
dispatch; the comb tangled in her hair, a button came off her boot, she
couldn’t pin her collar straight, and in the midst of her efforts to do
so, the bell rang.
“There it goes! and I haven’t said my prayers yet; I’ll have to omit
them this time. But perhaps papa will ask me about it; he sometimes
does.”
She knelt for a hurried sentence or two, putting no heart into them,
rose up hastily and ran down to the dining-room.
The blessing had been asked and her father was helping the plates. He
gave her a grave look as she took her place at the table.
“Good-morning, daughter,” he said; “you are quite behind time; what is
your excuse?”
“I overslept myself, papa; and then everything seemed to go wrong with
my dressing.”
“You must try to be more punctual,” he said. “I was sorry to miss my
morning kiss from my eldest daughter, and the little chat we usually
have before breakfast,” he added in a kindly tone.
“Oh, mayn’t I give you the kiss after breakfast?”
“No; I will take it now, and another after breakfast,” he answered with
a smile, and she sprang to his side, eager to give and receive the
accustomed caress.
“Is that the punishment for being unpunctual, papa?” asked Max,
facetiously.
“For the first offence,” replied his father; “and I don’t expect a
repetition of it from my usually prompt eldest daughter.”
“She is that,” acknowledged Max; “I’ll be more likely to be unpunctual
another time than she; and then, papa, I’ll expect the very same
punishment you have given her.”
“Ah, don’t make too sure of it; circumstances alter cases, and much
will depend upon the excuse you bring.”
Lulu felt grateful at the time for her father’s leniency, but her
fretfulness and irritability soon returned, and all went wrong with
her; her recitations were poor, and when told her lessons must be
learned over, she sulked and pouted.
Her father thought it best not to seem to notice her ill-humor, but did
not relax in his requirements. She must give her mind to her tasks and
recite them creditably, he said, before she could be dismissed to her
play. She had scarcely succeeded in that when the dinner-bell rang.
Her face did not wear its usual pleasant expression during the meal,
and she had nothing to say, though all around her were chatting in
their accustomed cheery fashion. Once or twice her father gave her a
troubled look, but he administered no reproof.
On leaving the table he repaired to the library to attend to some
correspondence. He was giving all his thoughts to that when a jesting
remark in Max’s voice, speaking from the adjoining room, caught his ear.
“What a very amiable countenance, Miss Raymond! and how very agreeable
you have made yourself all day!”
“Max,” returned Lulu’s voice, in angry tones, “if you don’t quit
teasing me, I’ll—”
“Max! Lulu!” interrupted the captain, sternly, “come here to me; both
of you.”
Max obeyed instantly, appearing before his father looking very red and
ashamed; but Lulu did not move.
“Lulu, did you hear me bid you come to me?” asked her father, with
added sternness in his tones.
“Yes, sir,” she answered; then immediately added, in an under-tone,
“but I’ll not come a step till I get ready.”
But low as the tone was, he heard her; a deeply-pained expression swept
across his features, he turned suddenly pale, but rose without a word
and moved with a calm, quiet step in the direction of his rebellious
child.
Lulu started to her feet as he appeared in sight. “I will, papa; I’m
coming.”
“Tardy obedience following upon a most insolent refusal to obey,” he
said, taking her hand and leading her to the side of the chair from
which he had just risen.
He resumed his seat, dropping her hand, and she stood there with
burning cheeks and eyes fixed on the carpet. Her refusal to obey had
been upon the impulse of the moment, and not intended for her father’s
ear, but she had spoken the insolent words louder than she was aware of
doing.
The captain addressed himself first to Max: “I am sorry, my son, to
find that you have not sufficient regard for either your sister’s
feelings or my wishes to lead you to refrain from teasing her; though
you know it is an easy matter to rouse her quick temper and so get her
into trouble.”
“It was very thoughtless and wrong in me, papa,” said Max, frankly. “I
beg your pardon, and Lulu’s too, and will try not to do so again.”
“That is right, my boy, and I am not angry with you now; but as this
is not the first time I have had to reprove you for the same fault, I
think I must inflict a slight punishment to impress the lesson upon
your mind. You will go to your room and stay there till the tea-bell
rings.”
“Yes, sir; it is a much lighter punishment than I deserve,” Max said,
moving instantly to obey.
He had gone and Lulu was left alone with her justly-displeased father.
There was silence for a moment. She still stood by the side of his
chair, and though her eyes were downcast, she felt that his were fixed
upon her. Her countenance was sullen; he could perceive in it no sign
of penitence.
“I am quite certain,” he said at length, speaking in a grave, sad tone,
“that it will not be long before my little daughter will be almost
overwhelmed with remorse on account of this day’s behavior toward the
father whom, I know beyond a doubt, she loves with all her heart.”
Before he had finished his sentence a change had come over her. “O
papa,” she cried, suddenly moving closer to his side and throwing her
arm round his neck, “I’m sorry _now_; oh, so, _so_ sorry and ashamed!
Please, _please_ forgive me for saying such naughty, _naughty_,
rebellious words to you; and please punish me for it just as hard as
you can!” and dropping her head on his shoulder she ended with a storm
of tears and sobs.
“I am afraid I must indeed punish you for your own sake,” he said,
sighing deeply; “it would hardly do to pass lightly over so flagrant
a breach of discipline, so insolent a refusal to submit to lawful
authority.”
“I didn’t mean to speak so you’d hear me, papa.”
“Ah! I am not at all sure that that admission sets your conduct in a
more favorable light.”
“Papa, I am sorry: oh, I didn’t think I’d ever be so bad again! But
every thing goes wrong with me to-day.”
“Surely then, you did not begin the day aright? Did you ask with your
heart that you might be kept from sin?”
“I did say a prayer, papa, but I was so late I had to hurry.”
“And so offered only lip service?”
She was silent.
“Ah, my child,” he said, “no wonder you were left to fall into grievous
sin! Approaching the King of kings with a haste and irreverence that
would be insulting to even an earthly monarch.”
“Oh, I never thought how very wicked it was!” she sobbed. “You’ll have
to punish me for that, too. Please do it now, papa, so I’ll have it
over.”
He did not answer her for several minutes; then he said: “I think I
shall try a new plan with you. As you were pleased to refuse obedience
to an order from me, I shall not give you another for some days; for
the four remaining days of this week you may try self-government;
regulating your conduct to suit yourself, except that you must not go
out of the house while the weather is inclement, or out of sight of it
at any time.
“I shall give you no command, direction, instruction or advice
concerning your daily duties; nor must you feel at liberty to come
to me for any, or to treat me with any greater familiarity than you
would use toward a gentleman in whose house you were only a visitor;
duties and privileges are not to be separated, and while released
from the duties of a child, you can have no right to claim a child’s
privileges.”
“But I don’t want to be released, papa,” she burst out in her vehement
way; “I want you to order me, and I do mean to obey the very moment you
speak; always, _always_!”
“So you think now,” he said, “but I am not at all sure that your good
resolution would last for any length of time; you may be quite as
willful and rebellious to-morrow as you have been to-day. You need, and
must have the lesson I hope you will gain by being left to be, for a
time, a law to yourself.
“Understand that I do not propose to subject you to any harsh
treatment; on the contrary I shall be as polite and as considerate of
your comfort as if you were my guest.”
“I don’t want to be company!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want you to be
polite to me! I want you to punish me, and then let me be your very own
child, just as I always have been! O, papa, please, _please_ do!”
“It is very far from being a pleasure to me to punish you,” he
returned, again sighing deeply as he spoke, “and I have quite decided
to try this other plan. I do not expect to enjoy it, either, any more
than you will; it will be a sad thing to me to have to do without the
loving attentions and caresses of my dear little daughter Lulu, even
for four days.”
She looked up into his face in blank dismay.
“O, papa, you can’t mean that I am not to kiss you, or have you kiss
me, for four whole days? I could never, never stand it!”
“I do not say that; I should not refuse a kiss to a little girl
visitor, should she ask for it—and I might even offer her one—but I
certainly should not expect to treat her, or be treated by her, with
the same affectionate familiarity which you and I have been accustomed
to use toward each other.”
“Oh, I sha’n’t know how to behave to you at all!” she cried
despairingly.
“When in doubt, you will only have to consider how you would expect a
little girl visitor—Eva, for instance—to act toward me. Now you may go,
for I have not time to talk any more to you at present.”
“Am I to go to my own room and stay there?”
“You will go where you please, and do what you please. You are your own
mistress for four days.”
Her own mistress! How often had she looked longingly forward to the
time when her right to be that should be acknowledged. But now—Oh, it
wasn’t felicity at all! it was misery to think that for four whole days
she was to be only like a stranger guest to papa, instead of his own
dearly loved and petted child.
Slowly, and feeling very much like one who had been suddenly turned out
of paradise, she went from his presence and on up the stairs to her
own rooms.
Grace was in the nursery, at play with the baby-sister; she heard their
voices and merry laughter as she passed the door; but she had no heart
for joining them and sharing their gayety; she did not pause till she
had reached the tiny room in the tower; the most private spot to which
she could have access at that time.
She sat down by the window, and leaning her arms on the sill, gazed out
into the grounds—looking desolate enough just now under leaden clouds
and swept by wind and sleet.
“It looks exactly as I feel, out there!” she sighed to herself. “O,
dear! four whole days! such a long, long while to be treated as only a
visitor!”
Then she fell to considering in what respect her father’s treatment of
her would differ during the four days, from what it ordinarily was, and
in what she must alter her conduct toward him.
Eva would certainly never think of running to him to put her arms round
his neck and gaze lovingly into his eyes, or taking a seat uninvited
upon his knee; nor would he invite her to that seat, or draw her into
his arms to hold her close to his heart and kiss her over and over
again, as if he thought her one of the dearest and sweetest things on
earth.
Oh, no; those were among the privileges and delights that had to be
dispensed with along with the duties of daughterhood; and oh, what
delights they seemed now that they must be resigned for a time! Ah,
if papa would but relent and commute her sentence to the severest
punishment he could possibly inflict, what a relief it would be!
Then recalling the insolent, rebellious words she had addressed to him,
she buried her face in her hands, almost overwhelmed with shame and
remorse.
What would she not give never to have spoken them! Oh, what base
ingratitude to the kindest and dearest of fathers! How those dreadful
words must have pained his loving heart! how had she found it in hers
to hurt him so? for, oh, indeed, she did love him dearly, _dearly_;
though she could hardly expect him to believe it any more!
What if he should decide that she didn’t love him, and so that he
didn’t want to keep her for his own, and should tell her she must go
away and be her own mistress always, or somebody else’s child!
Her heart almost stood still at the dreadful idea; but in a moment she
remembered with relief, that he had once said he would have no right to
let her go away from his care and authority—even if he wanted to be rid
of her—because God had given her to him to be protected and provided
for and trained up for his service; so there could be no danger of
that; for papa was a good Christian man who always tried to do exactly
as the Bible said.
It was growing dark; the supper-bell would soon ring, and—should she go
down to the table?
She dreaded meeting the family, and felt ashamed to look her father
in the face; and since she was her own mistress, she could do as she
pleased about it; but she would rather do as she supposed papa would
wish; and besides she began to feel hungry.
The bell rang and she obeyed the summons.
As she stepped out into the upper hall she and Max met face to face.
His eyes opened wide in surprise.
“Why do you look at me so;” she asked, half angrily, and feeling her
cheeks grow hot.
“Because I thought you would surely have to stay in your room for at
least a week, after talking as you did to papa this afternoon. I should
never dare to speak so to him, and I wouldn’t for the world hurt his
feelings so. If you had seen the pained look that came over his face——”
“Oh, Max, don’t!” she cried, with a burst of tears. “I could kill
myself for it! I don’t know what possessed me! I didn’t really mean to
say the words, but I thought out loud before I knew it.”
There was no time for any thing more, for they had reached the door of
the dining-room, and, as they passed in, Lulu hastily wiping away her
tears, found themselves in the presence of their parents who had just
sat down to the table.
Max and Lulu took their places in silence, the latter carefully keeping
her eyes down, that she might not meet those of her father. He asked
the blessing, then helped the plates, giving her, when her turn came,
what he knew she liked, without question or remark. She ate in silence,
the others chatting pleasantly among themselves as usual.
Presently a servant, passing a plate of waffles, handed them to Lulu.
The captain thought it not best, as a rule, for the children to eat hot
bread at night, but he sometimes made exceptions.
“Papa, may I have one?” she asked.
“I have nothing to say about it,” was his reply.
Violet gave her husband a look of surprise.
Lulu’s lip quivered. “I’ll not take it,” she said in a low tone to the
servant; then, a very little louder, and with a perceptible tremble
in her voice, “Mamma Vi, please excuse me,” and hardly waiting for an
answer, she rose and left the room.
Again Violet looked at her husband. “I fear the child is not well,” she
said enquiringly.
“Possibly not,” he sighed, “though I have heard no complaint of
illness.”
A light broke upon Violet, and she began talking of something else.
But the captain’s fatherly heart was stirred at the thought that
perhaps his child was not quite well; that there might be found in
threatened illness, some excuse for the misconduct of the day; and on
leaving the table he went in search of Lulu.
She was in the little tower-room again, and hearing him call to her
from the adjoining room, hastened to obey the summons.
“I am here, papa,” she said, appearing before him with drooping head
and downcast eyes.
“Are you not well?” he asked, and his tone was very kind.
“Yes, sir,” she answered tremulously, and without raising her eyes.
“I want you always to tell me when you feel at all ill,” he said. “We
are all expecting to spend the evening together in the usual way, and
will be glad to have you with us,” he added; then turned and left the
room.
“He didn’t call me daughter, or his child, or any thing, but Lulu,” she
sighed to herself; “and any other time he would have taken my hand and
led me with him. Oh, it isn’t nice at all to be treated like a visitor!”
She had always greatly enjoyed the evenings when they were just a
family by themselves, yet she shrank from accepting her father’s
invitation, feeling that she could not be one of them as heretofore.
But she found it lonely staying by herself, and at length sought the
room where the others were.
Grace, seated on her father’s knee, hailed her appearance with a glad,
“O Lu, so you’ve come at last! I was thinking I’d have to go and find
you. You’ve missed the fun with the babies; they’ve just been carried
away. Here’s a chair Max has set for you close beside papa; or perhaps
you can sit on his other knee.”
“I’ll sit here,” Lulu said, taking possession of an easy chair on the
opposite side of the fire.
“Why, Lu!” exclaimed Grace in astonishment, “what can be the matter
with you? Always before you’ve wanted to get just as close to papa as
ever you could.”
There was a moment of silence; then Lulu answered in a low,
half-tremulous tone, “I have not been a good girl to-day, Gracie, and
don’t deserve to sit close to papa.”
Then Max made a diversion by asking his father a question in regard to
his lessons for the next day.
“Gracie, will you get papa his slippers?” the captain asked presently.
“Oh, yes! if I may, papa,” she answered brightly, but with an enquiring
look at Lulu, who had always hitherto claimed that little service as
belonging to her.
“Papa doesn’t want me to do it, Gracie,” she said in a low, hurt tone.
He took no notice. Grace brought the slippers and was rewarded with a
smile and a kiss.
Then Violet came in with a bit of fancy work in her hand. Max brought
out the book they had been enjoying together for several evenings past,
and handed it to his father.
While the captain was turning over the leaves in search of the place
where he had left off the night before, Lulu drew quietly near the
table and took up a paper-cutter and a magazine that had come by that
afternoon’s mail.
“Don’t trouble yourself to cut those leaves, Lulu,” her father said;
“Max will do it for me.”
She dropped magazine and knife as though they had burned her, turned
away with quivering lip and eyes full of tears, and presently stole
away to her own room, went to bed and cried herself to sleep.
She knew it was not worth while to stay up for the usual good-night
visit from papa, for of course he would never think of paying one to a
little girl guest.
And in the morning when he came to the children’s sitting-room Grace
had him to herself.
Lulu met him first at the table, when he greeted her with a pleasant
“Good-morning, Lulu,” but offered no caress, and she did not ask for
one, though she had never felt more hungry for it.
She went to the school-room at the appointed hour and applied herself
industriously to her tasks, but he did not call her to recite; the
others were heard and dismissed, but she sat unnoticed at her desk. Her
father was at his, writing letters, and at length she rose and drew
near him.
“May I say my lessons now, papa?”
“I do not teach visitors,” he said, in a tone of polite astonishment;
“I instruct no one but my own children.”
“But I _am_ your own; your very very _own_! I _know_ I am for you have
told me so many and many a time!” she cried, bursting into sobs and
tears.
“Yes, you are,” he said gently, “and I purpose to claim my right in you
again one of these days; for not for all the gold of California would I
resign it entirely; but you must remember that for the present you are
considered only a visitor and your own mistress.”
“But I don’t want to be my own mistress! I want to be taught and
directed and controlled by you. O, papa, if you would only punish me
and forgive me, I don’t think I’d ever want to be rebellious again!”
“You shall be restored to all a daughter’s duties and privileges when
I deem that the proper time has come; but that is not yet,” he said;
“I love you just as dearly as ever, but I think you need the lesson I
am giving you, and that you could get it in no easier way. It grieves
me more than I can tell to see my dear little daughter unhappy, but
now and always I must seek her permanent good, rather than her present
pleasure.”
“You’re kind to tell me that you love me yet, papa,” she said, wiping
away her tears, “for I don’t deserve that you should, and I ’most
thought that you had stopped. Papa, I hate myself for hurting you so
yesterday.”
“I don’t doubt it, my child, and when the right time comes I will
listen to all you wish to say to me about it, but now I must attend to
my correspondence.”
“Then I’ll go away; but oh, mayn’t I have one kiss first? you said
you’d give Eva one if she asked you for it.”
Then he drew her to him, kissed her twice with warmth of affection, and
she went away feeling less unhappy than she had since her rebellious
reply to the last order he had given her.
She found Grace in their sitting-room dressing a doll.
“O Lu,” she cried, glancing up at her sister as she came in, “you’ve
been crying! What’s the matter? is papa angry with you?”
“He says I must be my own mistress all the rest of this week,
because—because I was disobedient and rebellious yesterday.”
Grace looked puzzled. “Don’t you like it, Lu? I thought you always
wished you could be.”
“I used to, but oh, it isn’t a bit nice, Gracie! I’m ever so much
happier when papa tells me what to do.”
“Yes, I like that best.”
“And he won’t let me do a single thing for him,” Lulu went on, “and
it’s dreadful; for I just love to wait on him and do all his little
errands about the house.”
She did not attempt it again, however, until restored to a daughter’s
place.