“My own dear little loving daughter,” he responded, giving her a look that filled her heart with gladness.
Max, no less ready than Lulu to wait upon their father, had seized a clothes-brush and the captain’s coat, and carrying them to the window was giving the coat a vigorous shaking and brushing.
“Thank you, my dear boy,” the captain said, as Max presently brought the garment to him, looking much better for what it had just gone through; “truly I think no man was ever more fortunate in his children than I am in mine.”
“If there’s anything good about our conduct, papa, I think your training deserves all the credit of it,” replied Max; “your training and your example, I should have said,” he corrected himself.
“If so it is by God’s blessing upon it all in the fulfillment of his promise, ‘Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.’ I hope, my children, you will never depart from it in youth or in later days.”
“I hope not, papa,” said Lulu. “Now please sit down and let me try to help your poor head. I’ll brush very softly. There, how does that feel?” after passing the brush gently over his hair two or three times.
“Very soothing, darling. You may go on while I open and read my letters.”
There were several home letters, and they enjoyed them together as usual, the captain reading aloud, while Lulu continued her labor of love, and Max attended to his own toilet—brushing his clothes and hair and washing hands and face. There was nothing of the dandy about the lad, but he liked to be neat; for his own comfort, and because it pleased his father to see him so.
By the time the letters were disposed of and the tea-bell sounded out its summons, the captain was able to assure Lulu that his head was almost entirely relieved. He gave the credit to her efforts, and rewarded her with a kiss.