She ventured upon no further entreaty, knowing it would be altogether useless, and quite as much from love to her father, and a real desire to please him, as from fear of punishment, behaved herself as well as possible.
But she kept as entirely in the background as she could, not looking at or speaking to any one unless directly addressed.
No one, however, gave her any reason to suppose her agency in the baby's accident was known; and she returned to Ion with a lighter heart than she had carried with her when she went.
She had not seen the baby yet, since its fall, and though longing to do so, having an ardent affection for the winsome little creature, did not dare to ask that she might.
But as she was about to go into her own room, on reaching home, her father said, "Would you like to go with me to the nursery, Lulu, and see your little sister?"
"Oh, so much, papa, if I may!" she cried eagerly. "But," half drawing back, "perhaps she—will be afraid of me."
"I trust not," he said, with emotion. "I hope she does not know that you had any thing to do with her fall. Come and see."
He took her hand, and led her to the nursery. The baby was awake, sitting in its nurse's lap, and looking bright, but so much thinner and paler than before her fall, that tears sprang to Lulu's eyes, and she could scarce refrain from sobbing aloud.
But the little one, catching sight of her, held out its arms, with a joyful cry, "Lu!"
At that, Lulu's tears fell fast.