“Oh, I am glad!  How nice it is that we can talk in that way to the folks at Ion and the other places where Mamma Vi’s relations live!”

“Yes; a telephone is really a blessing under such circumstances.  I am much more reconciled to being at some short distance from my wife and little ones than I could be if without such means of communication.”

They went down to the library together and seating himself he drew her to his knee, saying pleasantly, “You are the youngest child at home with me, and I think I must have you here.  I hope you will never think yourself too old to sometimes sit on your father’s knee.”

“No, papa, I’m sure I never shall while you are willing to let me,” she replied, putting an arm round his neck and gazing lovingly into his eyes.

They chatted for a few minutes, then the breakfast bell rang, and presently they were again seated at the little round table from which they had eaten last night’s supper, Lulu pouring the coffee with a very grown-up air, while her father filled her plate and his own with the tempting viands.

“What a lovely, delightful home we have, papa!” she remarked, as she handed him his cup.  “I do really think that with such a father and such a home I ought to be the best girl in the world; and I do mean to try to be.”

“I have no doubt you do, daughter, and I have seldom had occasion to find serious fault with you in the last year or more, so that I am by no means in despair of seeing you gain control of that troublesome temper which has caused so much unhappiness to both you and me.”

“Oh, thank you for saying it, papa!” she returned, with a bright and joyous smile.  “I’m determined to try my very best to be as good as possible, both to please you and to earn that visit to Annapolis that you spoke of last night.  I think it will be very delightful; and how pleased Max will be to see us; especially you.”

“I think he will.  Ah, here comes the mail-bag!” as a servant entered with it.

“Oh, I hope there’s a letter from Max,” Lulu said, as her father opened the bag and took out the contents—­papers, magazines, and letters.

“Yes, here is one from our dear boy,” he said, singling out a letter and hastily tearing it open.

He read it first to himself, then aloud to her—­a bright, cheery, boyish, affectionate epistle such as they were accustomed to receive from Max’s pen.

They talked it over together while they finished their breakfast, then returned to the library where, as usual, Christine, Alma, and the servants being called in, the captain led the family devotions, reading a portion of the Scripture and engaging in prayer.

“Are you going immediately to Ion, papa?” asked Lulu, when again they were alone together.

“No,” he replied; “I have some matters to attend to here while you are preparing your lessons.  After hearing them, if your recitations and conduct have been satisfactory, I intend taking you with me to the village, where I have to make some business arrangements; then we will drive to Ion, spend a little time there, then come home, probably bringing your little sisters and brother with us as we did the other day, returning them as before to your Mamma Vi, just in time for supper and bed, and coming home alone together.”