"I'm not ready to break my word yet, Grandpa Dinsmore," she said with a lofty air; "and perhaps Oakdale won't be a worse prison than those the martyrs went to for conscience' sake."
"Lulu," he said sternly, "do not deceive yourself with the idea that you are suffering for conscience' sake; a wicked promise—a promise to break one of God's commands—is better broken than kept; the sin was in making it."
"I don't know any commandment that says I must take lessons of Signor Foresti, or obey somebody who is no relation to me," returned Lulu, half trembling at her own temerity as she spoke.
"You are an extremely impertinent little girl," said Mr. Dinsmore, "and not altogether honest in pretending such ignorance; you know that you are commanded to obey your father, that he has directed you to be obedient to me in his absence, and that I have ordered you to take lessons of Signor Foresti."
He paused a moment, then went on: "If tomorrow you do as you are ordered you will be at once restored to favor, and all the privileges you formerly enjoyed in this house; otherwise you will not return from Oakdale with the others in the afternoon."
He waved his hand in dismissal, and she left the room full of anger and defiance, a most unhappy child.
In the hall she halted for a moment and glanced toward the outer door. A sudden impulse moved her to run away. But what good would that do? Where could she go? How find shelter, food, clothing? And should she ever see father, brother, sisters again?
She moved on again down the hall, and slowly climbed the broad stairway leading to the one above.
Violet met her there and felt her heart sink as she glanced at the sullen, angry countenance. She stopped, laid her hand kindly on the child's shoulder, and said,
"Lulu, dear, I know pretty well what you have just been told by grandpa, and, my child, it distresses me exceedingly to think of you being sent away from us all."