"She is still stubborn," he said to Violet, whom he found alone in their room across the hall, sighing deeply as he spoke; "and the close confinement is telling upon her; she grows pale and thin. Oh, how my heart bleeds for her, my dear child! But I must be firm. This is an important crisis in her life, and her future character—therefore her happiness for time and eternity—will depend greatly upon how this struggle ends."
The next day was the Sabbath, and on returning from church, he went to Lulu's room.
Little had passed between them since the talk of yesterday when he carried in her dinner. He found her now sitting in a listless attitude, and she did not look up on his entrance.
He lifted her from her chair, sat down in it himself, and took her on his knee.
"Has this holy day brought no good thoughts or feelings to my little girl?" he asked, gently smoothing the hair back from her forehead.
"You know I couldn't go to church, papa," she said, without looking at him.
"No; I know you could have gone, had you chosen to be a good, obedient child."
"Papa, how can you go on trying to make me tell a lie when you have always taught me it was such a wicked, wicked thing to do?"
"I try to make you tell a lie! what can you mean, daughter?" he asked in great surprise.
"Yes, papa, you are trying to make me ask Mamma Vi's pardon after I have said I wouldn't."