Lulu joined the rest of the family that evening and listened to the
reading, but was careful not to take any liberties inconsistent with
her position as only a guest. She asked for a goodnight kiss and
received it, but that was all; there was no close, loving embrace given
with it, as in former days, no words of tender fatherly affection were
spoken.
The next day and the next passed very slowly to her, with no lessons
to learn, no loving little services to render to her father, no
delightfully confidential chats with him; while by reason of mental
disquietude all employments had lost their usual interest for her; her
heart was very heavy because she felt she was not in full favor with
either her earthly or her heavenly Father.
For months past she had been happy in the consciousness that Jesus
loved her; that he was her Saviour and she his disciple, his servant,
belonging to him even more entirely than to the father whose “very own”
she loved to call herself.
But in rebelling against the authority of that earthly parent she had
broken God’s command, “Honor thy father and thy mother,” and the light
of his countenance was withdrawn from her.
The captain sat reading alone in the library on Friday evening, the
rest of the family having retired to their rooms for the night. A
slight sound caused him to look up from his book to find, much to
his surprise, Lulu standing by his side and wearing a very troubled
countenance.
“What is it?” he asked. “You bade me good-night some time ago, and I
thought had gone to bed. Are you not well, my child?”
“Yes, papa; but—papa, if Eva was troubled in her mind, and came to you
for help, wouldn’t you listen to her and tell her what to do?” she
asked, low and hesitatingly, her head drooping, her eyes on the carpet.
“Certainly; I should be very glad to do anything in my power to relieve
her, and if instead of Eva, it were one of my own children, I surely
should not be less ready to help and comfort. Tell me freely what it is
that troubles you.”
As he spoke he laid aside his book and took one of the small hands in
his, holding it in a tender, loving clasp.
Lulu’s tears began to fall. “Papa,” she sobbed, “when I behaved so
rebelliously toward you, I sinned against God, and I am afraid he is
angry with me. O papa, what shall I do?”
“Go at once and ask his forgiveness, daughter; ask in the name of
Jesus, and for his sake.
“‘If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ,
the righteous.’
“‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our
sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’”
“Papa, I thought I was a Christian; I thought I loved Jesus and had
given my heart to him; but now I am afraid it was all a mistake. Oh, do
you think a real, true Christian could behave so wickedly as I did the
other day?”
“If a man running a race should step aside for a moment from the path,
or stumble and fall, then get up and go on, I should not think he had
proved himself to have been mistaken in believing that he had really
set out to run it, and in the right path. Should a soldier fall back
for a moment before the enemy, I should not think that proved that he
did not love his country and his flag, and would never fight bravely
for them.
“But, my child, there is no need to settle the question whether you
really came at the time you thought you did; the way is open still and
you may come now; come anew, or for the first time. Jesus still invites
you, still says sweetly to you, ‘Come unto me and I will give you
rest.’ ‘Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.’”
“Papa, pray for me,” she entreated; “please ask Jesus to forgive me and
love me; to help me to come to him now, and always, always keep close
to him.”
Then, with her hand still in his, he knelt with her by his side, and
earnestly besought the Lord for her, “his dear, erring, but penitent
child.”
They rose from their knees, and lifting her tearful eyes to his face
with a look of ardent filial love, “Thank you, dear papa,” she said
in faltering tones; “I said the words after you in my heart, and I do
believe Jesus heard and has forgiven me and loves me now.”
“Yes, dear child, we have his own word for it, ‘Him that cometh to me I
will in no wise cast out.’”
He still held her hand in his, and now, laying the other tenderly on
her head, he said solemnly: “‘The Lord bless thee and keep thee: the
Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: the Lord
lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.’”
Then, with a good-night kiss, he sent her away to her rest.
“What a dear, _dear_ father he is,” she said to herself as she went
softly up the stairs again: “how I do love him! and oh, how I did
want to put my arms round his neck and hug him tight! It would have
been disobedience, though, and so I couldn’t; but to-morrow night I
may; for then this dreadful time of being my own mistress, and only a
visitor, will be over, and he’ll take me for his very own child again;
then oh, how happy I shall be!”
The next evening, as the good-nights were being said, she gave him a
most wistful, longing look.
“Yes,” he said, in a grave, serious, yet kindly tone, “I am coming to
your room for a little good-night talk.”
“Oh, I am so glad, papa!” she cried, her face lighting up with
joy, then went skipping and dancing to her room, hurried through
her preparations for the night, and when she heard his approaching
footsteps, ran to open the door and bid him welcome.
“It seems such a long while I’ve been without this, the pleasantest of
all my times,” she said, as he sat down and drew her into his arms with
the old fond gesture and tender caress.
“Well, daughter,” he said, “shall I give you another week of freedom
from my control and being your own mistress? or have you had enough of
it?”
“Oh, quite, _quite_ enough, papa! a great deal _more_ than enough!” she
exclaimed, nestling closer in his arms. “I do think I’ll never want to
be my own mistress again while I have such a dear, wise, kind father
to rule and direct me; to love and care for me. Papa, I actually feel
hungry for an order from you, that I may have the pleasure of obeying
it. And oh, it will be so delightful to wait on you and do all sorts of
little things for you again, if only you will let me!”
“Gladly, dear child,” he said, holding her close to his heart; “you can
scarcely rejoice more than your father does in your restoration to a
daughter’s place. I have found it a sad thing to have to do without the
loving services of my dear daughter Lulu, and this sweet interchange of
endearments with her.”
“Oh, it is ever so sweet to me!” she said. “But,” as if struck by a
sudden and not pleasant thought, “aren’t you going to punish me now for
my disobedience? Don’t you have to, because of your Bible orders?”
“I think not; I think you are penitent enough this time to make it
right for me to accord you free forgiveness; and I am very, _very_ glad
to do so,” he said, repeating his caresses.
THE END.
————————————— End of Book —————————————
Transcriber’s Note (continued)
Errors in punctuation have been corrected. Inconsistencies in spelling,
grammar, capitalisation, and hyphenation are as they appear in the
original publication except where noted below:
Page 10 – “arn’t” changed to “aren’t” (aren’t we?)
Page 15 – “spite” changed to “in spite” (in spite of the ridicule)
Page 27 – “he” changed to “be” (Zoe and I may be counted on)
Page 27 – “Leris” changed to “Levis” (Shall we not, Levis?)
Page 81 – “our’s” changed to “ours” (What a nice home ours is,
papa!)
Page 131 – “Capttain” changed to “Captain” (Captain Raymond)
Page 149 – “exlaimed” changed to “exclaimed” (she exclaimed)
Page 151 – “be” changed to “he” (he said at last)
Page 173 – “wont” changed to “won’t” (just won’t be)
Page 189 – “practisced” changed to “practiced” (I practiced a whole
hour)