"My precious little daughter," he responded, "words cannot express the love your father feels for you. Now there is one letter that I wish to write with my own hand, and while I am doing that you may amuse yourself in any way you like."
"May I read this, papa?" she asked, taking up a magazine.
"Yes," he said, and she went quietly from the room with it in her hand.
She seated herself on the back veranda, read a short story, then stole softly back to the library door to see if her father had finished his letter so that she might talk to him.
But some one else was there; a stranger she thought, though she did not get a view of his face.
She paused on the threshold, uncertain whether her father would wish her to be present at the interview, and at that instant he spoke, apparently in reply to something his caller had said, and his words riveted her to the spot.
"No," he said, in stern tones, "had I been here my daughter would never have been sent back to your school. She was most unjustly and shamefully treated by that fiery little Italian, and you, sir, upheld him in it. When I am at hand no daughter of mine shall be struck by another man, or woman either, with impunity, and Foresti may deem himself fortunate in that I was at a distance when he ventured to commit so great an outrage upon my child."
Lulu waited to hear no more, but ran back to the veranda, where she danced about in a tumult of delight, clapping her hands and saying exultingly to herself, "I just knew papa wouldn't have made me go back to that horrid school and take lessons of that brute of a man. Oh, I do wish he had been here! How much it would have saved me! If my father is strict and stern sometimes, he's ever so much better and kinder than Grandpa Dinsmore. Yes, yes, indeed, he's such a dear father! I wouldn't exchange him for any other, if I could."
Presently she suddenly ceased her jumping and dancing, and stood in an intently listening attitude.
"Yes, he's going – that horrid professor! I'm so glad! I don't believe he'll ever trouble this house again, while papa is in it any way," she said half aloud.
Then running to meet her father as he returned from seeing the professor to the door, she threw her arms round him, exclaiming in a voice quivering with delight. "Oh, you dear, dear papa, I'm so glad, so glad to know that you wouldn't have made me go back to that horrid music teacher! I felt sure at the time that you wouldn't, if you were here."
He heard her with a look of astonishment not unmixed with sternness.
"O papa, please don't be angry with me!" she pleaded, tears starting to her eyes; "I didn't mean to listen, but I happened to be at the library door (I was going back to see if you were done writing that letter and I might be with you again) when you told Professor Manton that you wouldn't have sent me back to Signor Foresti, nor even to his school. It made me so glad, papa, but I didn't stop to hear any more, but ran away to the veranda again; because I knew it wouldn't be right for me to listen to what wasn't intended for me to hear."
He took her hand, led her into the library again, drew her to a seat upon his knee, and softly smoothing back the hair from her forehead, said in kind, fatherly tones, "I am not displeased with you, daughter. I understand that it was quite accidental, and I am sure my little girl is entirely above the meanness of intentionally listening to what is evidently not meant for her ear. And in fact, now that I think of it, I am not sorry that you know I did not, and do not now, approve of the treatment you received at that time. Yet that was the first time I had ever mentioned it to any one, and I should be sorry to have your Grandpa Dinsmore know, or suspect, how entirely I disapproved of what he thought best to do at the time. Can, and will, my little daughter promise to keep the secret? never mentioning it to any one but me?"
"Yes, indeed, papa," she returned, looking up brightly into his face. "Oh, it's nice to be trusted by you, and not even threatened with punishment if I disobey!"
"I am happy to think that is by no means necessary," he said, drawing her into a closer embrace. "I believe my little girl loves her father well enough to do of her own free will what she knows he would have her do."
"Yes, indeed, papa," she answered earnestly; "and do you know, it seems a great pleasure to have a secret along with you. But, papa, why did you write – after I had confessed it all to you – as if you were so much displeased with me that you couldn't let me stay any longer at Ion after you had found another place to put me?"
"My child, as I had put you under Grandpa Dinsmore's care, it was your duty to submit to his orders till I could be heard from in regard to the matter. You should therefore have gone back, not only to the school, but to the music teacher, when he directed you to do so; you were disobeying me in refusing, and also showing great ingratitude to the kind friends who were doing so much for you without your having the slightest claim upon them."
"Papa, I am very sorry and ashamed," she murmured low and tremulously, hanging her head and blushing deeply as she spoke; "I almost want you to punish me well for it yet."
"No, daughter, that account was settled long ago," he said in kindly, reassuring accents, "fully settled, and I have no desire to open it again."
"But, oh, papa," she sighed, "sometimes I do feel so afraid I may get into a passion with somebody about something while we're here this winter, with all the Ion folks, that – that I believe I want you to say you will punish me very severely if I do."
"My daughter," he said, "I want you to avoid sin and strive to do right, not from fear of punishment, but that you may please and honor him whose disciple you hope you are."
"Oh, yes, papa, I do want to for that reason and also to please and honor you – the best and dearest father in the world!" she concluded, putting her arms round his neck and laying her cheek lovingly to his. "But you will watch me and warn me and try to keep me from yielding to my dreadful temper?"
"Yes, dear child, I will, as I have promised you again and again, do all I can to help you in that way," he replied in tenderest tones.
Then, as the carriage-wheels were heard on the drive without, "Ah, your mamma and our little ones have returned," he said, putting her off his knee; and taking her hand led her out to the veranda to meet and welcome them home.
CHAPTER XVIII
"Had you a call from Professor Manton, Levis?" asked Violet, as they sat together on the veranda that evening. "I thought so because he passed us as we were coming home and was looking very glum."
"Yes, he was here this afternoon," replied the captain.
"In search of pupils, I suppose?"
"Yes; and was rather disappointed to learn that I had none for him. He asked about Rosie and Walter, but I was unable to tell him positively whether they would, or would not, be sent to him; though I gave him but little encouragement, perhaps I should say none at all, to expect them."
"No; I am nearly certain they will not be willing to go to him, and that mamma will not care to send them; indeed she more than hinted that she would be delighted to commit them to your care should you show yourself willing to undertake the task of instructing them. Are you willing?"
"I am hardly prepared to answer that question, my dear," he replied thoughtfully. "They might not be willing to submit to the authority of a brother-in-law."
"I am almost sure you would have no trouble in governing them," returned Violet.
"I don't believe you would have any at all, papa," remarked Lulu, who was leaning on the arm of his chair and listening with much interest to the conversation; "neither of them is half so – so wilful and quick-tempered as I am."
The captain smiled at that, put an arm about her, and drew her closer to him. "But they don't belong to me as you do," he said, touching his lips to her cheek. "You are my very own, own little daughter, you know."
"Yes, indeed, and so glad to be," she returned, putting her arm round his neck and gazing into his eyes, her own shining with filial love.
The younger ones were already in bed, even Gracie having felt too much fatigued with the duties and pleasures of the day to wait for evening prayers.
"Yes, I think you may esteem yourself a fortunate child in that respect, Lu," said Violet. "I really believe it is the next best thing to being his wife," she added, with a pleasant little laugh.
"I think it's the very best thing, Mamma Vi," returned Lulu.
"Well, to go back to the original topic of discourse, Levis – or at least to the question whether you are willing to undertake the tuition of my young sister and brother," Violet went on. "I feel certain they would give you no trouble in governing them; also that your talent for teaching is such that they could not fail to greatly improve under your tuition."
"But might not your grandpa feel that I was interfering with him?" queried the captain.
"Oh, no, indeed! Grandpa feels that he is growing old, and has done enough of that kind of work. And you would be glad to please mamma?"
"Most certainly; I could refuse her nothing – the poor, dear woman!"
"Then we may consider it settled? Oh, thank you, my dear."
"Well, yes; I suppose so. Are you willing to share your teacher with Rosie and Walter, daughter mine?" he asked, softly stroking Lulu's hair.
"My teacher, but not my father, you dear papa," returned Lulu, patting his cheek, then holding up her face for a kiss, which he gave heartily and repeated more than once.
"What do you think, Mamma Vi, of your husband having an amanuensis?" he continued, affectionately squeezing Lulu's hand, which he had taken in his. "My correspondence was disposed of to-day with most unusual and unexpected ease. I would read a letter, tell my amanuensis the reply I wished to make, and she would write it off on the typewriter while I examined the next epistle, asking few directions and making scarcely any mistakes."
"Lulu did it?" Violet exclaimed in surprise "Why, Lu, I am both astonished and delighted!"
"Thank you, Mamma Vi; and I am very glad that I can help my dear, kind father, who does so much for me," Lulu answered, putting her arm round his neck, and laying her cheek to his. "Oh, I couldn't possibly do half enough for him! but I hope I may be of a great deal of use to him some of these days."
"You are that already, dear child," he said; "so useful and so dear that your father would not know how to do without you."