“I am more and more convinced as I watch my children and notice the diversity of character which they show, that it is very necessary to vary my system of training accordingly. The strictness and occasional severity absolutely needful in dealing with Lulu, would be quite crushing to the tender, timid nature of my little Grace; a gentle reproof is all-sufficient for her in her worst moods, and she is never willfully disobedient.”
“Nor is Max, so far as I am aware,” remarked Violet with a look and smile that spoke fond appreciation of the lad.
“No; when Max disobeys or is guilty of any other misdemeanor, it is pretty certain to be from mere thoughtlessness; which is bad enough to be sure, but far less reprehensible than Lulu’s willful defiance of authority. That last is something which, in my opinion, no parent has a right to let go unpunished; much less overlook or ignore, as of little or no consequence.”
CHAPTER IX.
It was Sunday afternoon, and the house seemed very quiet, Lulu thought as she laid aside the book she had been reading and glanced at Grace, who lay on the sofa near by, her eyes closed and her regular breathing telling that she slept.
Lulu stood for a moment gazing tenderly at her sister, then stole on tiptoe from the room, down the broad stairway into the hall below, and to the library door.
“I hope papa is there and alone,” she was saying to herself, “I know Mamma Vi’s lying down with the baby, and Max is in his own room.”
The door was ajar; she pushed it a little wider open and peeped in.
A hasty glance about the room told her that she had her wish. Her father sat in an easy chair by the open grate, his face turned toward her, and did not seem to be doing any thing, for he had neither book nor paper in his hand, but his eyes were fixed thoughtfully upon the fire.
“Papa,” she said softly.