“Yes, you may go,” he said. “Go to the school-room,” and she made haste to obey.
“Sir!” exclaimed Morgan, angrily, “I can not have my pupils interfered with in this manner.”
“The child is mine, sir,” replied the captain, “and I decline to have her subjected to such a trial of temper as your captious fault-finding and unjust accusations have forced upon her to-day.”
“I repeat that I shall allow no interference between myself and a pupil,” returned Morgan, growing pale with rage, “and if this thing is to go on, sir, you may look out for another instructor for your daughter after the expiration of the present term.”
“There is no need to wait for that,” said the captain in a calm, quiet tone. “Walk into the library and I will draw a check for the full amount of your charge for the term; nor ask you to give another lesson.”
Lulu had gone to the school-room quivering with excitement and indignation, feeling as if the very thought of taking another lesson from Mr. Morgan was quite unendurable: hoping that her father was not disposed to blame her for her angry rejoinder to the man’s rudely expressed doubt of her truthfulness, yet fearing that he might; so that when he presently came in, it was with some apprehension that she glanced up into his face, asking tremulously, “Are you displeased with me, papa?”
“Come here,” he said, seating himself.
She obeyed instantly, though still in doubt of what was awaiting her.
He drew her to his knee, put his arm round her, and pressing his lips to her cheek, said, “No, daughter, I am not displeased with you; I think you have had sore trials of patience to-day, and have borne them well.”
“O papa, do you? oh thank you for saying it! it makes me so glad, so happy!” she said with a half sob, her arm round his neck, her cheek laid lovingly to his. “But oh I—I wish I never had to see that man any more.”