"Miss Huntington called; and as I was not dressed for company, I sent word 'not at home.'"
"Margaret," said the gentleman, turning to the servant, "the next time you obey an order which obliges you to tell a falsehood, I wish you to come to me for your wages. I will have no one in my house who will carry a message like that."
"Thank you, sir, and my mother will thank you, too," answered Margaret, blushing with pleasure.
"Alice," sternly remarked Mr. Saunders when he had followed her to a parlor upstairs. "Where have you learned to deceive, and to teach your servants to deceive?"
She blushed a little, but said, directly,—
"Oh, papa! It is the most common thing in the world—I mean in genteel society—to send word you are not at home; it is understood to mean that you are engaged."
"Then why not say so? Why put lies into your servants' mouths? Don't you see that if you teach them to lie for you, they will soon learn to lie to you?"
"You use such dreadful words, papa, you quite frighten me; I'm sure I never thought I was doing the least harm."
"I use the right words, Alice. I am cut to the heart to see that, after all the money I have paid for your education, you should be so devoid of the first principles of honor."
He sighed deeply, as he walked to the window, revolving in his mind a plan to send her also, to her Aunt Collins; but, recalled to the present by the dinner-bell, he added,—