“What a nice home ours is, papa!” exclaimed Lulu, as they turned into the grounds at Woodburn.
“Yes, I think so, and that we have a very great deal to be thankful for,” he replied. “If God’s will be so, I hope we may all see many happy years in it.”
“The grounds are so lovely,” pursued Lulu, “that I most wish we could have warm weather a part of the time next week.”
“I think we shall find plenty of amusement suitable for the house,” her father said in a kindly tone; “and next summer we will perhaps have an out-door party for my children and their young friends.”
“O, papa, may we? how delightful that will be!” cried Lulu, with a joyous hop, skip and jump. “Oh, it’s just the nicest thing to have such a father and such a home!”
There seemed a pleasant bustle about the house as they came in; the conservatory was being prepared for the sport that was to be carried on in it, and sounds of silvery laughter and sweet-toned voices in lively, gleeful chat, came floating down from above.
The captain and Lulu following these sounds presently entered Violet’s boudoir, where they found the ladies busily engaged in making ready for the tableaux.
Grace was among them, and gave her father a joyous greeting: for the pen-wiper was quite finished and laid away safely in a place that he was not all likely to look into.
He stooped to give her a kiss and ask how she felt; then caught up the baby, who ran to meet him crying in her sweet baby voice, “Papa, papa!” tossed her up two or three times, she crowing with delight, then seated himself with her on his knee.
“What is sweeter than a baby, especially when it is one’s own?” he said, hugging her close with many a fond caress.