Lulu's head was scarcely on the pillow before she was fast asleep. When she woke, it was already broad daylight. She sprang up and ran to the window to take an observation of the weather.
"Cloudy, but not raining," she said, half-aloud. "Just as I'd like to have it, if only it will keep so, and not turn to actual rain."
With that she began making a rapid toilet, thinking she would like to take a little run on the beach before the summons to breakfast; but when she reached the porch below, the rain was falling pretty fast.
"Oh, dear!" she sighed, "why couldn't it keep off for a few hours longer?"
"What, daughter,—the rain?" asked her father's voice close at her side, while his hand was laid caressingly upon her head.
"Oh, good-morning, Papa!" she returned, lifting to his a sorely disappointed face. "I didn't know you were here. Yes, sir, it is the rain I'm mourning over,—I do so want to visit that man-of-war to-day; it's really a great disappointment!"
"I'm sorry you should feel it so!" he returned in a sympathizing tone; "but we won't despair yet. I think this is but a passing shower, which will make the trip all the more enjoyable by cooling the air nicely for us. However, should it prove too inclement for our contemplated little jaunt, we must try to remember that our kind and loving heavenly Father orders all these things, and to be patient and content,—more than content, thankful for whatever He sends!"
"I'll try to be content and thankful, Papa; I certainly ought, when I have so many, many blessings, and don't really deserve any of them," she answered, putting her hand into his, and letting him lead her back and forth along the porch, which they had to themselves for the time.
"No; that is true of each one of us," he said. "Did you sleep well?"
"Just as well as possible, Papa," she answered, smiling up into his face. "I didn't know anything from the time my head touched the pillow till I woke to find it broad daylight."