Max and Lulu behaved themselves admirably, the latter feeling quite subdued by the presence of her father and so many elegantly dressed and distinguished-looking people.

It was certainly a great change from Mrs. Scrimp's little dining-room with its small, plainly furnished table, the three to sit down to it, and Ann to wait upon them—a very pleasant change to Lulu. She enjoyed it greatly.

She and Max scarcely spoke during the meal, occupying themselves in eating and listening to the lively discourse going on around them, but were well waited upon, the servants being attentive, and both Elsie and Violet interesting themselves to see that the little strangers were not neglected.

On leaving the table, all repaired to the veranda and front door yard, for the enjoyment of a moonlight evening and the sea breeze.

The young Travillas and Raymonds speedily grew quite intimate and were mutually pleased; but the latter, fatigued with the journey and excitements of the day, were ready to retire at an early hour.

They waited only for family worship, conducted for both households by Mr. Dinsmore, then Violet and they bade good-night and went back to their own dwelling, leaving the captain to sit some time longer on the veranda with the other gentlemen.

"Have you everything you want in your room, Max?" Violet asked in a kindly tone, as the boy took up his bedroom candle.

"Yes, thank you, Mamma Vi," he answered cheerfully, but with a longing look at her.

"What is it, Max?" she asked, with her sweet smile. "Don't be afraid to tell me if there is anything you want."

"I—I'm afraid I oughtn't to ask it," he stammered, blushing vividly, "I've no right, and—and it might be disagreeable, but—oh, I should like to kiss you good-night!"

"You may, Max," she said, laughing, then put her arms round his neck and gave the kiss very heartily.

"Thank you," he cried in blushing delight; then hurried away, calling back, "Ah, good-night, Lu!"

"Good-night," she answered, looking wistfully at Violet.

"Shall I have a good-night kiss from you too, dear?" Violet asked, offering her lips.

Lulu accepted the invitation in an eager, joyous way, then asked, "May I see Gracie before I go to bed?"

"Yes, dear; we will go in very quietly lest we should wake her if she is asleep."

They found Gracie awake, Aunt Chloe shaking up her pillow and smoothing the cover over her.

"O mamma!" she cried in her little weak voice, "how beautiful you are! And, Lulu, where did you get those pretty things?"

"Mamma Vi gave them to me," Lulu said. "O Gracie dear, are you better?"

"Yes, I don't feel sick now, only weak. She's very good to me, she and everybody," with a grateful look at her sable nurse.

"Yes," Violet said, "mammy is always good and kind, especially to a sick person. Now Lulu and I will kiss you good-night and leave you to go to sleep again."

"You are nice and kind to come, both of you," Gracie said, receiving and returning their caresses.

"Mammy," Violet said as she turned to leave the room, "I'm afraid you are not able to take the care of her through the night."

"Yes, I is, honey darlin'," responded the old woman with warmth. "I'll hab a quilt spread down dar on de flo', and I'll lie dar an' sleep, an' ef de chile stirs I'll wake right up and gib her eberyting she wants."

"Mamma Vi, don't you want to see my room?" Lulu asked as they neared its door. "I think it is ever so pretty."

"So it is," Violet said, stepping inside with her, "and I am very glad you like it. If you think of anything else you want in it, don't hesitate to ask for it; both your papa and I wish to do all in our power to make his children happy."

"Thank you. Oh, it is so nice to have a new mamma! such a sweet, kind one," Lulu exclaimed with impulsive warmth, setting down her candle and throwing her arms about Violet's neck.

"Dear child!" Violet said, returning the embrace, "I am very glad you are beginning to love me. I hope we shall all love each other better every day and be very happy together. You won't forget to ask God's protection before you sleep, and thank him for his love and care? What a mercy that we met with no accident on our journey!"

"Yes, indeed! and I won't forget to say my prayers, Mamma Vi."

They exchanged an affectionate good-night, and Violet went to her own room.

Agnes was there, waiting to assist her in disrobing, to take down her hair, and put things in place.

As the maid withdrew, her duty finished, Elsie came softly in.

"Dearest mamma!" cried Vi joyously, "I am so glad you have come! I thought you would."

"Yes, daughter, I have just seen Rosie and Walter in bed, and could not deny myself the pleasure of one of the old-time private talks with my dear Vi. Ah, you don't know how I have missed them ever since Capt. Raymond carried you away from Ion!"

They were standing together with their arms about each other.

"Mamma," Violet said with an earnest, tenderly affectionate look into her mother's face, "how very beautiful you are! and how youthful in appearance! there is not a line in your face, not a silver thread in your hair, and it still has that exquisite golden tinge it has had ever since I can remember."

"Ah, dear child! we can see many beauties in those we love that are imperceptible to other eyes," Elsie returned with a quiet smile.

"But, mamma, every one sees you to be both young and beautiful in looks. You look far too young to be addressed as grandma by Max and Lulu, or even Gracie. I wish you would not allow it, but let them call you auntie."

"It does not make me really any older, or even to feel or look so," the mother said, with a low silvery laugh of amusement at Violet's earnestness.

"But I don't like it, dear mamma."

"Then I am sorry I gave them permission; yet having done so, I do not like to recall it. But, daughter dear, old age will come to us all, if we live, and it is quite useless to fight against the inevitable."

"Yet we needn't hurry it on, mamma."

"No; but consider; had I and my eldest daughter married as early in life as my mother did I might now have own grandchildren as old as Max and Lulu. Beside," she added gayly, "how can I hope to deceive people into supposing me young when I have three married children."

"Yes, mamma, that is true," Violet said, after a moment's thought; "and perhaps the children may be more ready to submit to the guidance and control of a grandma than of an aunt. Oh, how thankful I am that when their father is no longer here to govern them, they will not be left to my management alone!"



CHAPTER XXI.

REBELLION.

The next morning Violet began her housekeeping; a not very arduous undertaking, as competent servants had been brought from Ion for her establishment as well as for that next door.

It was pleasant to her and the captain to sit down to a well-appointed table of their own.

Max and Lulu too, coming in fresh and rosy from a stroll along the beach, thought it extremely nice that at last they had a home of their own with their father and so sweet and pretty a new mamma to take the head of the table.

The oysters and fish, just out of the ocean that morning, and Aunt Phillis's corn-bread and muffins were very delicious to the keen young appetites, and as Gracie was reported much better, every one was in good spirits.

The captain and Violet had both been in to see her and ask how she had passed the night, before coming down to the breakfast-room.

Immediately after the meal the captain conducted family worship. That over, Max and Lulu seized their hats, and were rushing out in the direction of the beach, but their father called them back.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Down by the waves," said Lulu.

"To the beach, sir," said Max.

"Without a word to any one!" he remarked a little severely. "How do you know that you are not wanted by your mamma or myself? We are going directly for a drive on the beach and I had intended to take you both along. Now I am inclined to leave you behind."

The children hung their heads, looking crestfallen and disappointed.

"O Levis, please let them go!" pleaded Violet, laying her hand persuasively on her husband's arm. "I am sure they did not mean to do wrong."

"Well, my love," he answered, "I will overlook it for this time for your sake. But, Max and Lulu, you must understand that you are under authority and are not to leave the house without first reporting yourselves to your mother or me and asking permission, stating where you desire to go and about how long you expect or wish to stay."

"Yes, sir," said Max; "but if you and Mamma Vi should both happen to be out?"

"Then you may go to Grandpa Dinsmore or Grandma Elsie."

"Yes, sir," Max answered in a pleasant tone; adding, "I'm sorry to have displeased you, papa, and will be careful in future to obey the orders you've just given."

But Lulu remained silent, and her countenance was sullen. She had been so long in the habit of defying Mrs. Scrimp's authority that now she was disposed to resist even her father's control in small matters, and think she ought to be permitted to go and come at her own sweet will, and the thought of being subjected to the sway of her new mother and her relatives seemed to the proud, passionate child almost beyond endurance.

The expression of her face did not escape her father's observation, but he thought it best to take no notice of it, hoping her angry and rebellious feelings would soon pass away and leave her again the pleasant, lovable child she had been a few moments since.

The carriage was already at the door.

"I think the air would do Gracie good," he remarked to Vi, "and the drive not prove too fatiguing if I support her in my arms. We have room for one more than our party. Will not your mother go with us?"

"Thank you; I'll run in and ask her," Vi said, tripping away.

Elsie accepted the invitation, remarking gayly, "I have no housekeeping cares to prevent me. I'm just a daughter at home in her father's house," giving him a loving look and smile, "as I used to be in the glad, free days of my girlhood."

The captain came down with Gracie in his arms, hers about his neck, her little pale face on his shoulder. She looked thin and weak, but very happy.

Grandma Elsie and Mamma Vi greeted her with loving inquiries and tender kisses.

"Do you feel strong enough for the drive, dear?" asked the former.

"Yes, ma'am; with papa to hold me in his strong arms."

"Papa's dear baby girl!" murmured the captain low and tenderly, imprinting a gentle kiss on the pale forehead.

Mr. Dinsmore came over, handed the ladies and Lulu into the carriage, then held Gracie till her father was seated in it and ready to take her again.

It was a bright, fair morning with a delicious breeze from the sea, and all enjoyed the drive greatly, unless perhaps Lulu, who had not yet recovered her good humor. She sat by her father's side, scarcely speaking, but no one seemed to notice it.

Gracie was asleep when they returned, and her father carried her up to her room and laid her down so gently that she did not wake.

The others had paused in the veranda below. Zoe and Rosie came running over to say the bathing hour was near at hand, and to ask if they were going in.

"I am not," Elsie said.

"Nor I," said Violet, "I'm a little tired and should prefer to sit here and chat with mamma."

"I'd like to go in," said Max. "When papa comes down I'll ask if I may."

"Mamma," said Rosie, "I don't care to go in to-day, but may I go down on the beach and watch the bathers?"

"Yes, daughter. Take a servant with you to carry some camp-chairs and to watch over Walter, if he wants to go with you."

"You'll come too, won't you?" Rosie said to Lulu; "it's good fun to watch the people in the water."

"I'll have to ask leave first," replied Lulu in a sullen tone. "Can you wait till papa comes down?"

"That is not necessary since your father has invested me with authority to give you permission," remarked Violet pleasantly. "You may go if you will keep with Rosie and the others. But, Lulu, my dear, I wish you would first go up to your room, take off those coral ornaments and put them away carefully. They do not correspond well with the dress you have on, and are not suitable for you to wear down on the beach at this time of day."

She had noticed, on first seeing the child that morning, that she had them on, but said nothing about it till now.

"You said you gave them to me to keep!" cried Lulu, turning a flushed and angry face toward her young step-mother; "and if they are my own, I have a right to wear them when and where I please, and I shall do so."

"Lucilla Raymond, to whom were you speaking?" asked her father sternly, stepping into their midst from the open door-way.

The child hung her head in sullen silence, while Vi's face was full of distress; Elsie's but little less so.

"Answer me!" commanded the captain in a tone that frightened even insolent Lulu. "I overheard you speaking in an extremely impertinent manner to some one. Who was it?"

"Your new wife," muttered the angry child.

The captain was silent for a moment, trying to gain control over himself. Then he said calmly, but not less sternly than he had spoken before, "Come here."

Lulu obeyed, looking pale and frightened.

He leaned down over her, unclasped the coral ornaments from her neck and arms, and handing them to Violet, said, "My dear, I must ask you to take these back. I cannot allow her to keep or wear them."

"O Levis!" began Vi in a tone of entreaty; but a look and a gentle "Hush, love!" silenced her.

"Now, Lucilla," he said, resuming his stern tone of command, "ask your mamma's pardon for your impertinence, and tell her you will never be guilty of the like again."

"I won't!" exclaimed Lulu passionately.

At that, her father, with a look of utter astonishment at her presumption, took her by the hand and led her into the house, upstairs and to her own room.

"My daughter," he said, "I must be obeyed. I could not have believed you would be so naughty and disobedient so soon after my return to you, for I thought you loved me."

He paused for a reply, and Lulu burst out with passionate vehemence, "You don't love me, papa! I knew you wouldn't when you got a new wife. I knew she'd steal all your love away from your own children!"

In that moment of fierce, ungovernable anger all Vi's sweet kindness was forgotten and old prejudices returned in full force.

The captain was too much shocked and astonished to speak for a moment. He had not dreamed that his child possessed so terrible a temper.

"You were never more mistaken, Lulu," he said at length in a moved tone; "I never loved my children better than I love them now. Are you not sorry for your rebellious reply to me a moment since? will you not tell me so, and do at once what I have bidden you?"

"No; I'll never ask her pardon!"

"You will stay in this room in solitary confinement until you do, though it should be all summer," he said firmly, went out, locked the door on the outside, and put the key into his pocket.

Zoe and Rosie had hastened away the moment the captain appeared upon the scene in the veranda, and as he led Lulu into the house Violet burst into tears.

"O mamma!" she sobbed, "what shall I do? I wish I had not said a word about the ornaments, but just let her wear them! I never meant to make trouble between my husband and his children! I never should have done so intentionally."

"My dear child, you have no cause to blame yourself," Elsie said soothingly.

"No, not a bit of it, Mamma Vi," cried Max, coming to her side. "I love Lu dearly, but I know she has a very bad temper, and I think it's for her own good that papa has found it out already, so that he can take means to help her conquer it. Dear me! I should never dare to say 'I won't' to him. Nor I shouldn't want to, because he's such a good father to us, and I love him dearly."

"Dear Max," Violet said, smiling through her tears as she took his hand and pressed it affectionately in hers. "I am sure he is a good, kind, loving father; his children could never doubt it if they had heard all he has said to me about them, and I trust you will never do anything to give him pain."

The captain rejoined them presently, asking the ladies with an assumed cheerfulness if they intended bathing.

They answered in the negative, and turning to Max he said kindly, "My son, if you wish to do so, I will take you with me. The surf is fine this morning and I feel inclined to go in."

"Oh, thank you, papa!" cried Max, "it will be splendid to go in with you!"

The captain re-entered the house and Violet followed. He turned at the sound of her quick, light step, saw the distress in her face, the tears in her eyes, and was much moved thereby.

"My love, my darling!" he said, taking her in his arms, "do not let this thing trouble you. Ah, it pains me deeply that a child of mine should have already brought tears to those sweet eyes."

"O Levis!" she sobbed, hiding her face on his breast, "forgive her for my sake. Don't insist on her asking my pardon. I would not have her so humiliated."

"There are few things you would ask, love, that I would not grant," he said tenderly, softly smoothing the golden hair; "but for my daughter's own sake I must compel her obedience. What would become of her if left to the unrestrained indulgence of such a temper and spirit of insubordination as she has shown this morning?"

"I know you are right," she sighed, "but I cannot help feeling sorry for her, and oh it almost breaks my heart to think that I was the cause of the trouble."

"Ah, but in that you are mistaken, sweet wife," he said, repeating his caresses; "Lulu's own evil temper was the exciting cause. I could see that she was in a sullen, rebellious mood from the time that I called her in before our drive. That I must begin already to discipline one of my children gives me a sad heart, but I must try to do my duty by her at what ever cost of pain to her or myself."

As her father turned the key in the lock, Lulu stamped with passion, and clenched her fists until the nails were buried in the flesh. "I'll never do it!" she hissed between her tightly-shut teeth, "no, never! if he keeps me here till I die. I just wish I could die and make him sorry for treating me so!"

Then throwing herself on the bed she sobbed herself to sleep.

She must have slept several hours, for she was waked by the opening of her door, and starting up found her father standing beside her with a small salver in his hand. On it were a plate of graham bread, a china bowl containing milk, and a silver spoon.

"Here is your dinner, Lucilla," he said, speaking in a quiet, grave tone, as he set the salver on a little stand in a corner between the windows; "unless you are ready to obey me. In that case, I shall take you down to your mamma, and when you have begged her pardon and told me you are sorry for your rebellious words and conduct toward me, you can eat your dinner with us."

"I don't want to go downstairs, papa," she said, turning her face away from him. "I'd rather stay here. But I should think you'd feel mean to eat all sorts of good things and give me nothing but skim-milk and that black bread."

"I give you that bread because it contains more nutriment than the white," he said. "As to the good things the rest of us may have to eat, you shall share them as soon as you are ready to submit to my authority, but not till then."

He waited a moment for a reply, but receiving none, went out and locked the door.

When he came again at tea-time, bringing a fresh supply of the same sort of fare, he found the first still untouched.

Lulu was very hungry, and really for the last hour had quite longed to eat the bread and milk, but from sheer obstinacy would not touch it. She thought if she held out long enough in her refusal to eat it, something better would be furnished her.

But now she fairly quailed before the glance of her father's eye as he set the second salver down and seating himself said, "Come here to me!"

She obeyed, looking pale and frightened.

He drew her in between his knees, put one arm round her, and taking the bowl he had just brought in the other hand, held it to her lips, with the command, "Drink this! every drop of it!"

When that was done, he commanded, "Now break this bread into that other bowl of milk, take your spoon and eat it."

Now thoroughly frightened, she did not dare disobey.

He sat and watched her till the meal was finished, she feeling that his stern eye was upon her, but never once venturing to look at him.

"Have you anything to say to me, Lucilla?" he asked as he rose to go.

"No, sir," she answered, with her eyes upon the carpet.

"My child, you are grieving me very much," he said, took up the salver and went out.

Lulu did love her father—though not nearly so well as her own self-will—and his parting words brought a gush of tears from her eyes. She was half inclined to call to him to come back, and say she would obey.

But no! her heart rose up in fierce rebellion at the thought of asking pardon of his "new wife." "I'll never do it!" she repeated half aloud, "and when I get sick and die from being kept shut up here papa will wish he hadn't tried to make me."

So she hardened her heart day after day and refused to yield.

Her fare continued the same, her father bringing it to her three times daily, now in silence, now asking if she were ready to obey.

She saw no one else but the maid who came each morning to put her room in order; except as she caught sight of one or another from the window. She liked to look at the sea and watch the vessels sailing by, but was often seized with a great longing to get down close to the waves.

After the second day she grew very, very weary of her imprisonment and indulged in frequent fits of crying as she heard the gay voices of Max and the young Travillas at sport on the veranda, in the yards below, or knew from the sound of wheels, followed by an hour or more of quiet, that drives were being taken.

She knew she was missing a great deal of enjoyment. Being of an active temperament, extremely fond of out-door exercise, made this close confinement even more irksome to her than it would have been to many another.

She had nothing to do. She had turned over the contents of her trunk several times, had found her doll, and tried to amuse herself with it, but there was little fun in that without a playmate. She had no book but her Bible, and that she did not care to read; there was too much in it to condemn her.

"Papa," she said, when he came with her breakfast on the fourth day, "mayn't I go and run on the beach for ten minutes and then come back?"

"What did I tell you about leaving this room?" he asked.

"I know you said I shouldn't do it till I asked her pardon," she replied, bursting into a fit of passionate weeping, "but I'll never do that, and if I get sick and die you'll be sorry for keeping me shut up so."

"You must not talk to your father in that impertinent manner," he said sternly. "It is not I who keep you here, it is your own self-will; and just so long as that lasts you will remain here."

"I haven't a friend in the world," she sobbed; "my own father is cruel to me since he——"

"Hush!" he said in stern indignation. "I will have no more of that impertinence! Will you force me to try the virtue of a rod with you, Lucilla?"

She started and looked up at him with frightened eyes.

"I should be very loath to do so, but advise you to be very careful how you tempt me to it any farther," he said, and left her.

He went down with a heavy heart to the breakfast-room where his wife, Max and Gracie awaited his coming.

All three greeted his entrance with loving smiles. Vi was looking very lovely, and he noticed with gratitude that Gracie's eyes were bright and her cheeks faintly tinged with pink. She was improving rapidly in the bracing sea-air and winning all hearts by her pretty ways.

She ran to meet him, crying, "Good-morning, my dear papa!"

He took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly two or three times, longing to be able to do the same by the other one upstairs, put her in her place at the table and took his own.

A tempting meal was spread upon it, but he felt that he could scarcely enjoy it because it must not be shared with Lulu.

Vi read it all in his face, and her heart bled for him. She had seen through all these days of conflict with his stubborn, rebellious child, that his heart was sore over it, though he made great efforts to appear as usual, and never spoke of Lulu except when it was quite necessary.

He had had to explain to Gracie why her sister was not to be seen, and to entreat Vi not to grieve over her unintentional share in occasioning the struggle, or let it hinder her enjoyment.

Elsie had made a generous settlement upon each of her married children; so Vi had abundant means of her own. She longed to spend some of her money on her husband's children, especially in pretty, tasteful dress for the two little girls. She asked his consent, deeming it mot right to act without it.

He seemed pleased that she had it in her heart to care for them in that way, but said nothing could be done for Lulu at present, she might do what she would for Gracie, but the expense must be his; nor could she move him from that decision.

She had begun to carry out her plans for Gracie, delighting herself in making her look as pretty as possible, and each day hoping that Lulu's submission would make it possible to do the same by her.

She knew this morning, by her husband's countenance and his coming in alone, that that hope had again failed, and her heart sank; but for his sake she assumed an air of cheerfulness and chatted of other things with a sprightliness and gayety that won him from sad thoughts in spite of himself.



CHAPTER XXII.

"Prithee, forgive me!"

"Papa, can't I see Gracie?" Lulu asked when he came in with her dinner.

"Certainly, if you are ready to obey."

The child's lip quivered. "I'm so tired of that bread and milk," she said. "Can't I have something else? I'm sure you and everybody in the house have a great many good things."

"We have, and it is a great grief to me that I cannot share them with my little Lulu. I have very little enjoyment in them because of that."

"Papa, I'm sorry I've been so naughty, so impertinent to you. I don't mean ever to be so again; and I'll be a good girl every way after this, if you'll let me out."

"Then come with me to your mamma," he said, holding out his hand.

"I can't ask pardon of her," she said, turning away with a sob.

"You must, Lucilla," he said in a tone that made her tremble. "You need not think to conquer your father. I shall keep you here on this plain fare and in solitary confinement until you are entirely penitent and submissive."

He waited a moment, but receiving no reply, went out and locked the door.

"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."

"Ah, my child, that was a wicked promise because it was rebellion against your father's authority, which God commands you to respect. Therefore the sin was in making it, and it is your duty to break it."

Then he made her repeat the fifth commandment, and called her attention to its promise of long life and prosperity, as far as it shall be for God's glory and their own good, to all such as keep it.

"I want you to inherit that blessing, my child," he said, "and to escape the curses pronounced against those who refuse obedience to their parents."

Opening the Bible, he read to her, "The eye that mocketh at his father and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it."

She gave him a frightened look, then, with a slight shudder, hid her face on his breast, but did not speak.

"Lulu," he said, again softly stroking her hair, "about nine years ago I came home from a long voyage to find a dear little dark-eyed baby daughter, and as I took her in my arms, oh how my heart went out in love to her and gratitude to God for giving her to me! I loved her dearly then. I have loved her ever since with unabated affection, and never doubted her love to me until now."

"Papa, I do love you," she said, hastily brushing away a tear. "I've said I was sorry for being naughty to you and didn't mean to do so any more."

"And yet are continuing to be naughty and disobedient all the time. It is quite possible, Lulu, that you may some day be fatherless; if that time should come, do you think you will look back with pleasure to these days of rebellion?"

At that she cried quite bitterly, but her father waited in vain for a word of reply.

He put her on her knees on the floor, knelt beside her, and with his hand on her head prayed earnestly, tenderly that the Lord would cast out her wicked temper, forgive her sins, give her a new heart, and make her his own dear child.

Rising, he took her in his arms again for a moment, she still sobbing, but saying not a word, then putting her gently aside, he left the room.

To her surprise her dinner of bread and milk was presently brought up by Agnes, who set it down and went out without exchanging a word with her.

The same thing occurred at supper-time.

Lulu began to be filled with curiosity not unmingled with apprehension, but was too proud to question the girl.

All through the afternoon and evening her thoughts dwelt much upon what her father had said to her, and the words and tender tones of his prayer rang in her ears and melted her heart. Beside she had become thoroughly convinced that what he had said he would do, so that there was no hope of release until won by obedience.

She was disappointed that he did not come with her supper nor afterward, for she had almost resolved to submit. She cried herself to sleep that night, feeling such a love for her father as she had never known before, and an intense longing for his kiss of forgiveness.

She became not willing only, but eager to do his bidding that she might receive it.

In the morning she dressed herself with neatness and care and impatiently awaited his coming. She was sure it must be long past the usual hour when at last the door opened and Violet came in with the waiter of bread and milk.

She set it down and turned to the little girl, who stood gazing at her in silent surprise.

"Lulu, dear, your father is very ill," she said in tones quivering with emotion, and then the child noticed that there were traces of tears about her eyes and on her cheeks, "He was in terrible pain all night, and is very little better this morning," she went on. "O Lulu, I had a dear, dear father once, and he was taken ill very much as yours has been and—in a few days. Oh, how I loved him! and while he lived I thought I was a good daughter to him, for I don't remember ever being wilfully disobedient, but after he was gone my heart reproached me with having neglected opportunities to give him pleasure, and not having always obeyed quite so promptly and cheerfully as I might, and I would have given worlds to go back and be and do all I ought."

She ended with a burst of tears, covering her face with her hands and sobbing, "O papa, papa! O my husband, my dear, dear husband!"

"O Mamma Vi! I will ask your pardon—I do! won't you please forgive me for being so very, very naughty and impertinent? when you have been so good and kind to me too," sobbed Lulu, dropping on her knees at Violet's feet.

"I do with all my heart," Violet said, lifting her up and kissing her. "And shall we not always love each other for your dear father's sake?"

"Oh, yes, yes, indeed! I do love you! I don't know what made me be so wicked and stubborn. Mayn't I go to papa and tell him how sorry I am, and ask him to forgive me too?"

"Yes, dear, come; perhaps it may help him to grow better, for I know he has grieved very much over this," Vi said, taking the child's hand and leading her into the room where the captain lay.

As he saw them come in thus his eye brightened in spite of the severe pain he was enduring.

With one bound, Lulu was at his side, sobbing, "Papa, papa! I'm so sorry for all my badness, and all your pain. Please, please forgive me. I've done it—asked Mamma Vi's pardon, and—and I'll never talk so to her again, nor ever disobey you any more."

"I hope not, my darling," he said, drawing her down to give her a tender fatherly kiss of forgiveness. "I am rejoiced that you have given up your rebellion so that now I can love and pet you to my heart's content—if God spares me to get up from this bed of pain. I do forgive you gladly, dear daughter."

For several days the captain was very ill, but the best of medical advice was at hand, the best of nursing was given him by Elsie and Violet, assisted by Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore and others, and, by the blessing of Providence, upon these means he recovered.

Lulu seemed very unhappy and remorseful until it was quite certain that he would get well, took little interest in any kind of recreation, and was often found hovering about the door of his room, eager to learn how he was and if possible gain admission to his presence, or permission to do something for his relief.

She was a changed child from that time, perfectly respectful, obedient, and affectionate toward both her father and Violet.

When the captain had once begun to mend, the improvement was very rapid, and he was soon able to share in the drives and other recreations of their party.

During his illness Grandma Elsie had been very kind to his children, acting a mother's part by them, attending to their wants, comforting and encouraging them with hope of his recovery, and they had grown very fond of her.

At first Lulu shrank from all her new mamma's relatives, and even from Max and Gracie, ashamed of her misconduct and expecting to receive unpleasant reminders of it.

But she met with nothing of the kind, except that Max, when she first came downstairs, said. "It does seem strange, Lulu, that when so many men have to obey papa the instant he speaks, his own little girl should stand out so long and stubbornly against his authority;" and Gracie, with her arms about her sister's neck, sobbed, "O Lu how could you make dear papa so sorry for so many days?"

"Was he so sorry?" sobbed Lulu.

"Yes, indeed; sometimes he hardly ate anything, and looked so sad that the tears came in my eyes, and in Mamma Vi's too."

"Oh, I hope that wasn't what made him sick!" cried Lulu, the tears streaming down her face. "I'll never, never behave so to him again."

Lulu was still more remorseful as time went on and everybody was so kind to her, seeming never to remember her naughtiness and disgrace, but giving her a share in all the pleasures devised for themselves which were suitable to her age.

She was especially touched and subdued by the interest Violet took in seeing her provided with new dresses made and trimmed in the fashion (which, to her extreme vexation, Mrs. Scrimp had always disregarded), and with many other pretty things.

When she thanked her new mamma, she was told, "Your father pays for them all, dear."

Then she went to him with tears in her eyes, and putting her arms round his neck, thanked him for all his goodness, confessing that she did not deserve it.

"You are very welcome nevertheless, daughter," he said, "and all I ask in return is that you will be good and obedient."

Vi wished to return to Lulu the pink coral ornaments, but that he would not allow.

It was a great disappointment to Lulu, for she admired them extremely, but she showed herself entirely submissive under it.



CHAPTER XXIII

MAX.

"Papa," said Max one morning, as they rose from the breakfast-table, "I feel as if a long walk would do me good. I'd like to go farther down the beach than I ever have yet."

"Very well, my son, you may go, only keep out of danger and come home in time for dinner," was the indulgent rejoinder, and the lad set off at once.

He presently fell in with two other lads a little older than himself, boarders in one of the near hotels, and casual acquaintances of his. They joined him and the three rambled on together, whistling, talking, and occasionally stooping to pick up a shell, pebble, or bit of seaweed or sponge.

At length they reached an inlet that seemed to bar their farther progress, but looking about they spied an old boat stranded by yesterday's tide a little higher up the inlet, and were of course instantly seized with a great desire to get her into the water and set sail in her.

"Wouldn't it be jolly fun?" cried Bob Masters, the eldest of the trio. "Come on, boys."

Max was a rather heedless fellow, and never stopping to consider the right or wrong of the thing, or whether he were running into danger or not, went with the others.

They found the boat, as they thought, in fair condition; there were two oars in her, and both Max and John Cox, the other lad, thought they knew pretty well how to use them, while Masters was sure he could steer.

With a good deal of exertion they set the little craft afloat; then climbing in they pushed boldly out into deep water and bore down toward the ocean.

Max had thought they were only going to cross to the farther side of the inlet and continue their walk; but almost before he knew it, they were out upon the sea, and the boat was rocking upon the waves in a way that seemed to him decidedly alarming.

"Boys," he said, "let's put back as fast as we can. We don't know anything about managing a boat out here, and see how big the waves are!"

"That's because the tide's coming in," laughed Masters, "so if we should upset it'll wash us ashore."

"I don't know," said Max, "I'd rather not risk it; there's the undertow to carry us out again."

"Oh, you're a coward!" sneered Cox.

"I'm not going to turn back yet," said Masters; "so stick to your oar, Raymond, and if the sight of the big waves frightens you, just turn your back to 'em."

At that moment a hail came from a fishing-smack not far away. "Halloo! boys, you'd better put back as fast as you can; that boat's not safe, especially in the hands of such green-horns as you."

At the same moment a big incoming wave washed over them, carrying away their hats and Max's coat, which he had pulled off when taking the oar.

Masters and Cox were now sufficiently frightened to be willing to turn back; they made the attempt at once, but found it far more difficult than they had anticipated. They struggled hard, and several times nearly gave themselves up for lost; but at last, after many narrow escapes, a huge wave carried them high on to the beach, and left them there with barely strength to crawl up out of the way of the next.

It was a good while before they were able to do anything but lie panting and gasping on the sand.

Max had not been long gone when Zoe ran into the cottage of the Raymonds, to tell of a plan just set on foot in the other house to get up a party to visit some points of interest several miles distant.

They were to go in carriages, take a lunch with them, and not return till late in the afternoon, when all would dine together at Mrs. Dinsmore's table.

"Mamma is not going," she said, "and offers to take care of Gracie, if the child stays behind. Every one seems to fear the ride would be too long and wearisome for her."

"Yes, I think so," the captain said, fondling her, for she was sitting on his knee.

"I'd like to go, papa," she said, looking up coaxingly into his face, "I like to go driving, and to sit on your knee."

"And I love to have my baby girl in my arms, and to give her pleasure," he responded, repeating his caresses, "but I should feel very sad to see her made sick."

"Then I'll be good and not ask to go, papa," she said, with a slight sigh, laying her head on his shoulder.

"That's my dear, good little Gracie! You shall have a short drive every day when I can manage it. Perhaps a moonlight drive along the beach, to-morrow evening. Will not that be nice?"

"Oh, ever so nice, dear papa!" she cried, clapping her hands in delight.

"Mamma not going, Zoe!" exclaimed Violet in a tone of disappointment. "That will rob the excursion of half its charm for me. Is she not well?"

"She has a very slight headache, she says, and fears the sun would increase it. Besides she is so much interested in a book she is reading that she prefers staying at home to finish it. We had hard work to persuade grandpa to go without her, but he has consented at last; only, I believe, because Grandma Rose refused to go without him, and mamma insists that she is in no danger of a bad headache if she keeps quiet."

"Yes, grandpa is so fond and careful of her."

"We have two large carriages, so that there is abundance of room for everybody," pursued Zoe; "and we hope, Captain, that you will let Max and Lulu go."

"Lulu shall certainly, if she chooses," he said, turning with a kind, fatherly smile to the little girl who stood silently at his side, waiting with a wistful, eager look, to hear if she were to be of the party, but ashamed to ask the indulgence because of a vivid remembrance of her late rebellion and disgrace.

"Oh, thank you, papa!" she cried joyously, giving him a hug and kiss. "Mamma Vi, what shall I wear?"

"Your travelling dress will be the most suitable I think," said Violet.

"Then I'll run and put it on," returned Lulu, hastening away with cheerful alacrity.

"Max shall go too, Captain, shan't he?" queried Zoe, with whom the boy was a great favorite.

"He might if he were here," the father answered; "but unfortunately he has gone off for a long walk and may not be back before dinner-time."

"And we must start in a few minutes," remarked Vi; "I am really sorry, for I know Max will regret missing it. Gracie, dear, I'm going over to speak to mamma; shall I take you with me?"

"Yes, if you please, Mamma Vi, when I've kissed my dear papa good-by."

Having done so, she took her doll in her arms and gave her hand to Violet. She felt a little lonely at the thought of being left behind, but was quite comforted on learning that little Walter Travilla had decided to stay at home and play with her.

The excursionists drove off, and Elsie, having provided the little ones with amusement, gave herself up to the enjoyment of her book and an easy-chair set where she could catch the pleasant sea breeze without feeling the sun. Still, she did not forget the children, but now and then laid aside her book for a little, while she suggested or invented some new game for their entertainment.

So the morning passed quietly and pleasantly.

It was a little past noon when, stepping out upon the veranda, she caught sight of a forlorn figure, hatless, coatless, and dishevelled generally, yet bearing a strangely familiar look, slowly approaching the other cottage. A second glance told her who it was.

"Max!" she exclaimed in astonishment, and forgetting all about her headache, caught up a sunshade and hurried to meet him.

"Max! can it be you?" she asked. "Why, my poor boy, where have you been? and what has happened to you?"

"O Grandma Elsie!" he said, looking much mortified and ready to cry, "I did hope I'd be able to get into the house without anybody seeing me! Do you know where my father is?"

"Yes; the two families have all gone on an excursion except Gracie, Walter, and me. But come in out of the sun," she added, leading the way into the Raymonds' cottage. Max followed her, and won to confidence by her sweet and kindly sympathy, told her the whole story of his morning's adventure.

"O Max, my dear boy! what a narrow escape!" she said, with tears in her eyes. "What a mercy that you are alive to tell the tale! What a terrible, terrible shock it would have been to your father to learn that his only son was drowned! and that while in the act of disobeying him, for you say he bade you not to go into any danger."

"Yes, Grandma Elsie, and if he finds it out I'll be pretty sure to get a severe flogging. I deserve it, I know; but I don't want to take it. You won't tell on me, will you? Perhaps he'll find it out through the loss of the coat and hat, but I hope he won't miss them, at I have several others."

"No, Max, I shall certainly not tell on you; no one shall ever learn from me what you have told me in confidence; but I do hope, my dear boy, that you will not try to deceive your kind, loving father, but will confess all to him as soon as he comes home, and patiently bear whatever punishment he sees fit to inflict. It is the only right and honorable course, Max, and will save you a great deal of suffering from remorse and fear of detection."

"But it will be dreadfully hard to confess!" sighed Max. "I believe I really dread that more than the flogging."

"Yet take courage, my boy, and do it. Do not allow yourself to indulge in moral cowardice, but dare to do right, asking help of God, who is able and willing to give it."

Max made no reply, but sat there before her, looking very guilty and miserable.

"You must be hungry," she said presently, "and it is not easy to be brave and strong on an empty stomach. Suppose you go to your room and make yourself neat, then come into the other house and join me and the little folks in a nice luncheon."

The proposal was accepted with thankfulness.

Max looked several degrees less miserable after satisfying his appetite, yet all the afternoon seemed restless and unhappy.

Elsie said little to him, but many times silently lifted up her heart on his behalf, asking that he might have strength given him to do the duty he felt to be so difficult and painful.

As the time drew near when the pleasure-seekers might be expected to return, he slipped away out of her sight.

Presently the carriages drove up and deposited their load. Max stood waiting in the veranda, his heart beating very fast and loud, as his father, Violet, and Lulu came up the path that led from the garden-gate.

All three greeted him affectionately, expressing their regret that he had missed the pleasure of the excursion; then Vi and Lulu passed into the house and on upstairs.

The captain was about to follow when Max, stepping close to his side, said, with a slight tremble in his voice, "Papa, I—want to speak to you."

"Very well, my son, say on," answered the captain, stopping and turning toward him.

"It's something I want to tell you, sir," and Max hung his head, his cheeks flushing hotly.

His father gave him a searching look, took his hand, and led him into the parlor.

"Don't be afraid of your father, Max," he said kindly, "why should you?"

"Because I've been a bad boy, sir, deserving of a flogging, and expect you to give it to me," Max burst out desperately.

"Tell me all about it, my son," the captain said in a moved tone, "and tell it here," seating himself and drawing the boy to his knee. "Perhaps it will be easier."

"Oh, yes, papa, because it makes me know you love me even if I am bad; but it makes me more ashamed and sorry for having disobeyed you," sobbed Max, no longer able to refrain from tears as he felt the affectionate clasp of his father's enfolding arm.

"Then it has a right effect. My boy, I think if you knew how much I love you, you would never disobey. It will be a sore trial to me, as well as to you, if I find it my duty to inflict any severe punishment upon you. But let me hear your story."

Max told it in broken accents, for he was full of remorse for having behaved so ill to so kind a parent.

When he had finished there was a moment of silence. It was the captain who broke it.

"My boy," he said, with emotion, "it was a really wonderful escape, and we must thank God for it. If you had been drowned, Max, do you know that it would have gone near to break your father's heart? To lose my first-born, my only son, and in the very act of disobedience—oh, how terrible!"

"Papa, I didn't, I really didn't think about its being disobedience when I got into the boat, because it didn't seem dangerous till we were fairly out among the waves."

"Do you think I ought to excuse you on that account?"

"No, sir; you've reproved me so often for not thinking, and for not being careful to obey your orders; and I know I deserve a flogging. But, O papa, please don't let Mamma Vi know about it, or anybody else. Can't you take me upstairs here when they are all in the other house?"

"I shall not use corporal punishment this time, Max," the captain said, in a moved tone. Dressing the boy closer to his side, "I shall try free forgiveness, for I think you are truly sorry. And then you have made so frank and full a confession of wrong-doing, that I might perhaps never have discovered in any other way."

"O papa, how good you are to me! I don't think I can ever be so mean and ungrateful as to disobey you again," exclaimed Max, feelingly. "But I don't deserve to be praised, or let off from punishment, because of confessing, for I shouldn't have done it if Grandma Elsie hadn't talked to me about the duty of it, and persuaded me to take courage to do it because it was right."

"Bless her for it! the dear, good woman!" the captain said, with earnest gratitude. "But I think, Max, you do deserve commendation for taking her advice. I have something more to say to you, my son, but not now, for the call to dinner will come directly, and I must go and prepare for it."

There was a hearty embrace between them, and they separated, the captain going to his room to make his toilet and Max to the other house, where he soon managed to let Grandma Elsie into the secret of his confession and its happy result, thanking her with tears in his eyes for her kind, wise advice.

Elsie rejoiced with and for him, telling him he had made her heart glad and that she hoped he would always have courage to do right.

As Max prepared for bed that night he was wondering to himself what more his father had to say to him, when he heard the captain's step on the stairs, and the next moment he came in.

Max started a little apprehensively. Could it be that his father had changed his mind, and was about to give him the dreaded flogging after all?

But with one glance up into the grave yet kindly face looking down at him, all his fear vanished. He drew a long breath of relief.

"My boy," the captain said, laying his hand on Max's shoulder, "I told you I had something more to say to you, and I have come to say it now. You are 'my first-born, my might and the beginning of my strength.' Never until you are a father yourself can you know or understand the tide of love, joy, and thankfulness that swept over me at the news of your birth. Nor do you know how often, on land and on sea, in storm and in calm, my thoughts dwell with deep anxiety upon the future of my son, not only for time, Max, but for eternity."

The captain paused for a moment, his emotions seemingly too big for utterance, and Max, throwing his arms around his neck, hid his face on his breast.

"Papa," he sobbed, "I didn't know you loved me so much! Oh, I wish I'd always been a good boy!"

The captain sat down and drew him to his knee.

"My dear son," he said, "I have no doubt that you are sorry for every act of disobedience toward me, and I fully and freely forgive them all; but what I want you to consider now is your sinfulness toward God, and your need of forgiveness from him. You are old enough to be a Christian now, Max, and it is what I desire for you more than anything else. Think what blessedness to be made a child of God, an heir of glory! to have Jesus, the sinner's Friend, for your own Saviour, your sins all washed away in his precious blood, his righteousness put upon you."

"Papa, I don't know how."

"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved,' the Bible says. It tells us that we have all broken God's holy law, that we all deserve his wrath and curse forever, and cannot be saved by anything that we can do or Buffer; but that 'God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.' He offers this salvation to us as his free gift, and so we are to take it, for we can have it in no other way. Go to God, my son, just as you have come to me, with confession of your sins and acknowledging that you deserve only punishment; but pleading for pardon through the blood and merits of Jesus Christ. Accept the salvation offered you by the Lord Jesus, giving yourself to him to be his, his only forever. 'Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance to Israel and remission of sins,' and he will give them to you if you ask for them with all your heart. He says, 'Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out.' My son, my dear son, will not you come now? God's time is always now, and only the present is ours."

"Papa, I will try; I am sorry for my sins against God, and I do want to belong to him. Papa, won't you pray for me?"

They knelt down together, and with his son's hand in his the captain poured out a fervent prayer on the boy's behalf, of confession and entreaty for pardon and acceptance in the name and for the sake of Him "who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification."

Then, with a silent, tender embrace he left him.



CHAPTER XXIV.

"Home again, home again, from a foreign shore, And oh it fills my soul with Joy to see my friends once more."

The rest of the summer and early fall passed delightfully to our sojourners by the sea; though the happiness of the captain and Violet was somewhat marred by the knowledge that soon they must part for a season of greater or less duration, he to be exposed to all the dangers of the treacherous deep.

But they did not indulge in repining or lose the enjoyment of the present in vexing thoughts concerning the probable trials of the future.

It was necessary, however, to give it some consideration, and make arrangements in regard to his children.

Thinking of the guidance and control they all needed, the temper and stubbornness Lulu had shown, the watchful care requisite for Gracie in her feeble state, he hesitated to ask Mrs. Dinsmore and Elsie if they still felt inclined to undertake the charge of them.

But to his great relief and gratitude, those kind friends did not wait for him to broach the subject, but renewed their offer, saying they had become much attached to the children, and desired more than ever to give them a happy home with themselves; upon the conditions formerly stated, namely, that he would delegate his authority to them during his absence, and give the children distinctly to understand that he had done so.

These conditions the captain gladly accepted. He told the children all about the arrangement he had made for them, and in the presence of the whole family, bade them obey Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, Grandma Elsie and Mamma Vi as they would himself.

"One master and three mistresses!" Edward remarked lightly; "are you not imposing rather hard conditions, Captain?"

"No, I think not, Ned, for I am satisfied that their commands will never conflict; but should they do so, Mr. Dinsmore, as patriarch of the whole tribe, is of course the highest authority."

It had been decided that Harold and Herbert should now enter college. The others, on being left by the captain, would all return to Ion and spend the winter there or at Viamede. Edward would take charge of the Ion plantation, his grandfather giving him some slight supervision at the start.

This arrangement would leave Mr. Dinsmore almost without employment, and, as he liked to be busy, he said he would gladly act the part of tutor to Max, and also hear some of the recitations of Rosie and Lulu. Grandma Elsie and Mamma Vi would for the present undertake the rest of the work of educating the girls and little Walter.

Their plans settled, they gave themselves up to quiet enjoyment of each other's society while Capt. Raymond waited for orders.

Early in October there came a great and joyful surprise. A train had steamed into the neighboring depot a few moments before, but as they were not looking for any addition to their party, no one had taken particular note of the fact.

But a carriage came driving from that direction, and drew up before the gate of Mr. Dinsmore's cottage, where the whole family were gathered.

A gentleman hastily alighted, handed out a lady; a servant-woman followed—having first handed him an odd-looking, rather large bundle, which he received with care—then turned to collect packages and parcels, while the other two hurried to the house, the lady a little in advance.

"Elsie!" was the simultaneous exclamation of many voices in varied tones of astonishment and delight, and the next instant there was a wonderful confusion of greetings and embraces mingled with tears of joy and thankfulness.

Lester and his wife had been heard from frequently during the past months, their letters always cheerful and full of bright hopes and anticipations, but containing no hint of any intention of returning to America before the coming spring.

As they afterward explained, it had been a very sudden resolve, caused by a severe fit of homesickness, and there really was no time to write.

Lester shared the joyous welcome given to Elsie; the servant woman having relieved him of his bundle, of which, in their joyous excitement, no one had taken particular notice.

Only waiting, a trifle impatiently, till the greetings and introductions were over, Elsie Leland took it from her, and with a proud, happy, yet tearful smile laid it—a lovely sleeping babe—in her mother's arms.

"Our boy, mother dear. We have named him for his grandpa—Edward Travilla."

Elsie Travilla folded the child to her heart, kissed it softly, tenderly, the great silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Ah, could he but have seen it! our first grandchild," she sighed.

Then, wiping away her tears, and sending a glance of mingled joy and maternal pride around the little circle, she folded the babe still closer, saying, with an arch, sweet smile, "Ah, no one now can deny that I am in very truth Grandma Elsie!"

THE END.

* * * * *

THE MERRY LYNN SERIES

By HARRIET PYNE GROVE Cloth Bound. Jackets in Colors.

* * * * *

The charm of school and camp life, out-door sports and European travel is found in these winning tales of Merilyn and her friends at boarding school and college. These realistic stories of the everyday life, the fun, frolic and special adventures of the Beechwood girls will be enjoyed by all girls of high school age.

MERILYN ENTERS BEECHWOLD MERILYN AT CAMP MEENAHGA MERILYN TESTS LOYALTY MERILYN'S NEW ADVENTURE MERILYN FORRESTER, CO-ED. THE "MERRY LYNN" MINE

* * * * *

A.L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers

114-120 EAST 23rd STREET NEW YORK



The Ann Sterling Series

By HARRIET PYNE GROVE

Stories of Ranch Life and Adventure. For Girls 12 to 16 Years.

Handsome Cloth Binding with Attractive Jackets in Color

* * * * *

ANN STERLING THE COURAGE OF ANN ANN AND THE JOLLY SIX ANN CROSSES A SECRET TRAIL ANN'S SEARCH REWARDED ANN'S AMBITIONS

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers

A.L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK

* * * * *



MARJORIE DEAN

POST-GRADUATE

SERIES

By PAULINE LESTER

Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School and College Series.

All Cloth Bound. Copyright Titles.

With Individual Jackets in Colors.

MARJORIE DEAN, POST GRADUATE MARJORIE DEAN, MARVELOUS MANAGER MARJORIE DEAN AT HAMILTON ARMS MARJORIE DEAN'S ROMANCE MARJORIE DEAN MACY

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers

A.L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK

THE END