“Then you won’t let me, papa?”

“No, my child.  If you choose you may use your pocket-money, and some more that I will give you, to buy what you please, that will not make any work for you.  Your studies must be faithfully attended to, and the greater part of your remaining time I wish you to spend in out-of-door amusements which will, I hope, both give you much pleasure and keep you in vigorous health.

“I could not bear to see my dear eldest daughter growing pale and thin, or failing to improve her mind and talents so that she may in due time become a noble, useful woman, capable of doing with her might whatever work her heavenly Father may be pleased to give her.”

A wofully ill-used, discontented look had come over Lulu’s expressive countenance as her father began what he had to say, but before he had finished it was replaced by a much sweeter one of contentment with his decision, and confiding filial love.

“Papa, dear, I did at first very much want you to say yes to my petition, but now I see that you know best and am quite content to do as you have said you want me to,” she returned, putting her arm about his neck and laying her cheek to his in her accustomed fashion when her heart was swelling with daughterly affection.

“My dear child, your ready acquiescence in your father’s decision makes you dearer than ever to him, if that be possible,” he said, holding her close with many a fond caress.

Meanwhile Rosie and Evelyn, occupying adjoining rooms, were chatting gaily of what they should make for one and another of those they loved.

Suddenly Evelyn paused, a very thoughtful look overspreading her expressive face.

“Well, what is it?” asked Rosie in a bantering tone; and Evelyn answered, “I was just thinking that all this, should we undertake it, will be apt to take our minds from our lessons, which are certainly of far greater importance.”

“And that Captain Raymond may veto it on that account?” asked Rosie, with a twinkle of fun in her eye.

“Possibly he may; and if he does, I, for one, shall certainly obey him,” replied Evelyn, speaking in a sober, earnest way that said plainly she was far from being in jest.

“Well, I make no rash promises,” laughed Rosie; “and I’m not very much afraid of that brother-in-law of mine, stern as he can look when it suits him.”

“But you will want to please your dear mother?” returned Evelyn, in a tone between assertion and inquiry.

“Yes,” replied Rosie, sobering down at once; “I could refuse nothing to dear mamma.  I would do anything and everything in my power to add to her happiness.  Oh, how glad and thankful I am that she has been spared to us!”

“I, too,” said Evelyn.  “I think I could hardly love her better if she were really my very near relative.”

A moment of silence followed, presently broken by Rosie.  “Well, I suppose,” she said with a return to her jesting tone, “it may be our wisest plan to consult his lordship—­Captain Raymond—­in regard to the matter just now under discussion—­whether we—­his prospective pupils—­may or may not engage in the work of preparing Christmas gifts for other folk.”