“Yes; papa takes me on his knee, while you can only sit by his side; and I shall stay at home with him, while you will have to go away to the Academy at Annapolis.”
“I go of my own free will,” returned Max; “I don’t believe papa would compel me against my will.”
“Not at all,” said the captain, “and I am glad you are both so well satisfied.”
CHAPTER XVI.
The hunters started the next morning, shortly after an early breakfast.
“Papa, when do you expect to be back?” asked Lulu, as she helped her father with the last of his preparations, some anxiety showing itself in her tone.
“Toward evening, daughter; I can’t set the hour,” he answered cheerily. “Better not expect us too soon, lest it should make you feel lonely and disappointed. Your better plan will be to keep yourself busy with reading, writing, sewing—as you prefer, and you may take a walk about town with Marian, if you choose, but don’t go outside of it.
“Perhaps you will find letters at the post-office after the mail comes; maybe have the pleasure of handing me one from your mamma when I get back. Now good-by, my darling.”
He held her in a close embrace for a moment, kissing her tenderly two or three times, released her, and was gone.
Max was following, with a hasty “Good-by, Lu,” but she ran after him, calling, “Max, kiss me, let me kiss you. Suppose the bear should get hold of you and hug you so tight that I’d never have a chance to do it again,” she added, laughing to hide an inclination to cry.