When she had gone up to her own room for the night, and was getting ready for bed, her thoughts went back to the interview held there that morning with her father, and she seemed to see again the pained expression in his eyes that had so distressed her then.
“Oh, how could I be so naughty and disobedient to him! Such a dear, good father!” she again sighed to herself, tears springing to her eyes. “I just hate you for it, Lulu Raymond, and I’d like to pound you well. I ’most wish your father would do it! I’ve a great mind to ask him to. And here he comes,” as she heard his step nearing the door.
As he came in she looked up at him with tearful, wistful eyes. He opened his arms and she ran into them, put hers about his neck and hid her face on his breast.
“What is it?” he asked, softly smoothing her hair; “why are there tears in my dear little daughter’s eyes; is it because of Fairy’s absence?”
“No, papa; but because I’m so sorry to have hurt you so to-day. Oh, have you got over it now?”
“Pretty nearly; the momentary doubt that my dear Lulu loved me more than just a little, has vanished. I am quite sure she does love me—better, perhaps, than any thing but her own self-will. But I shall never be quite satisfied till I can believe that she loves me even better than that.”
“Papa,” she pleaded, “please believe that I do ’most all the time.”
“Yes, I do believe it; and that you are really trying to overcome your faults. I want to talk a little with you about these besetting sins of yours, and how to battle with them. Then we will ask God together to help you in the struggle, for Jesus says:
“‘If two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven!’”
“Papa,” she said, clinging lovingly to him as, a little later, he bade her good-night, “if your children don’t grow up good, Christian people, I’m sure it won’t be your fault.”