This time she was so far obedient that she went nowhere except to the beach, but while wandering about there she was nursing unkind and rebellious thoughts and feelings; trying hard to convince herself that her father loved her less than he did his other children, and was more inclined to be severe with her than with them. In her heart of hearts she believed no such thing, but pretending to herself that she did, she continued her unlovely behavior all that day and the next, sulking alone most of the time; doing whatever she was bidden, but with a sullen air, seldom speaking unless she was spoken to, never hanging lovingly about her father, as had been her wont, but rather seeming to avoid being near him whenever she could.

It pained him deeply to see her indulging so evil a temper, but he thought best to appear not to notice it. He did not offer her the caresses she evidently tried to avoid, and seldom addressed her; but when he did speak to her it was in his accustomed kind, fatherly tones, and it was her own fault if she did not share in every pleasure provided for the others.

In the afternoon of the second day they were all gathered upon the beach as usual, when a young girl, who seemed to be a new-comer in 'Sconset, drew near and accosted Betty as an old acquaintance.

"Why, Anna Eastman, who would have expected to see you here?" cried Betty, in accents of pleased surprise, springing up to embrace the stranger.

Then she introduced her to Elsie, Violet, and Captain Raymond, who happened to be sitting near, as an old school friend.

"And you didn't know I was on the island?" remarked Miss Eastman laughingly to Betty, when the introductions were over.

"I hadn't the least idea of it. When did you arrive?"

"Several days since--last Monday; and this is Friday. By the way, I saw you on Tuesday, though you did not see me."

"How and where?" asked Betty in surprise, not remembering at the moment how she had spent that day.

"At Sankaty Lighthouse; I was in a carriage out on the green in front of the lighthouse, and saw you and that little girl yonder (nodding in Lulu's direction) come out on the top of the tower; then a puff of wind took the child's skirts, and I fairly screamed with fright, expecting to see her fall and be crushed to death; but somebody jerked her back within the window just in time to save her. Weren't you terribly frightened, dear?" she asked, addressing Lulu.

"Of course I was," Lulu answered in an ungracious tone; then rose and sauntered away along the beach. "What did she tell it for, hateful thing!" she muttered to herself; "now papa knows it, and what will he say and do to me?"

She had not ventured to look at him; if she had she would have seen his face grow suddenly pale, then a.s.sume an expression of mingled sternness and pain.

He presently rose and followed her, though she did not know it till he had reached her side and she felt him take her hand in his. He sat down, making her sit by his side.

"Is this true that I hear of you, Lulu?" he asked.

"Yes, papa," she answered in a low, unwilling tone, hanging her head as she spoke, for she dared not look him in the face.

"I did not think one of my children would be so disobedient," he said, in pained accents.

"Papa, you never said I shouldn't go to Sankaty Lighthouse," she muttered.

"I never gave you leave to go, and I have told you positively, more than once, that you must not go to any distance from the house without express permission. Also I am sure you could not help understanding, from what was said when I took you to the lighthouse, that I would be very far from willing that you should go up into the tower, and especially outside, unless I were with you to take care of you. Besides, what were my orders to you just as I was leaving the house that morning?"

"You told me to change my dress immediately and to stay at home."

"Did you obey the first order?"

Lulu was silent for a moment; then as her father was evidently waiting for an answer, she muttered, "I changed my dress after a while."

"That was not obeying; I told you to do it immediately," he said in a tone of severity, "What did you do in the mean time?"

"I don't want to tell you," she muttered.

"You must; and you are not to say you don't want to do what I bid you.

What were you doing?"

"Walking round the town."

"Breaking two of your father's commands at once. What next? give me a full account of the manner in which you spent the day."

"I came in soon and changed my dress; then went to the beach till the bathing hour; then Betty and I went in together; then we had our dinner at the hotel and came back to the beach for a little while; then we went to Sankaty."

"Filling up the whole day with repeated acts of disobedience," he said.

"Papa, you didn't say I mustn't go in to bathe, or that I shouldn't take a walk."

"I told you to stay at home, and you disobeyed that order again and again. And you have been behaving very badly ever since, showing a most unamiable temper. I have overlooked it, hoping to see a change for the better in your conduct without my resorting to punishment; but I think the time has now come when I must try that with you."

He paused for some moments. Wondering at his silence, she at length ventured a timid look up into his face.

It was so full of pain and distress that her heart smote her, and she was seized with a sudden fury at herself as the guilty cause of his suffering.

"Lulu," he said, with a sigh that was almost a groan, "what am I to do with you?"

"Whip me, papa," she burst out; "I deserve it. You've never tried that yet, and maybe it would make me a better girl, I almost wish you would, papa," she went on in her vehement way; "I could beat myself for being so bad and hurting you so."

He made no answer to that, but presently said in moved tones, "What if I had come back that night to find the dear little daughter I had left a few hours before in full health and strength, lying a crushed and mangled corpse? killed without a moment's time to repent of her disobedience to her father's known wishes and commands? Could I have hoped to have you restored to me even in another world, my child?"

"No, papa," she said, half under her breath; "I know I wasn't fit to go to heaven, and that I'm not fit now; but would you have been really very sorry to lose such a bad, troublesome child?"

"Knowing that, as you yourself acknowledge, you were not fit for heaven, it would have been the heaviest blow I have ever had," he said.

"My daughter, you are fully capable of understanding the way of salvation, therefore are an accountable being, and, so long as you neglect it, in danger of eternal death. I shall never be easy about you till I have good reason to believe that you have given your heart to the Lord Jesus, and devoted yourself entirely to His blessed service."

He ceased speaking, gave her a few moments for silent reflection, then setting her on her feet, rose, took her hand, and led her back toward the village.

"Are you going to punish me, papa?" she asked presently, in a half-frightened tone.

"I shall take that matter into consideration," was all he said, and she knew from his grave accents that she was in some danger of receiving what she felt to be her deserts.

CHAPTER VII.

"The rod and reproof give wisdom: but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame."--_Prov_. 29: 15.

Lulu hated suspense; it seemed to her worse than the worst certainty; so when they had gone a few steps farther she said, hesitating and blushing very deeply, "Papa, if you are going to punish me as--as I--said I 'most wished you would, please don't let Mamma Vi or anybody know it, and--"

"Certainly not; it shall be a secret between our two selves," he said as she broke off without finishing her sentence; "if we can manage it," he added a little doubtfully.

"They all go down to the beach every evening, you know, papa," she suggested in a timid, half-hesitating way, and trembling as she spoke.

"Yes, that would give us a chance; but I have not said positively that I intend to punish you in that way."

"No, sir; but--oh, do please say certainly that you will or you won't."