“So do I,” said Max.  “Mamma Vi, do you think papa will consent?”

“I really cannot say, Max,” she answered doubtfully.  “Do you want to go, too, Gracie?” drawing the child to her side, and softly smoothing her hair.

“Yes, mamma, if—­if I could have you or papa there with me.  I don’t want to go very much ’less one of you goes too.”

“And you are such a delicate little darling, that I hardly think your papa will feel willing to have you go, without either of us along to take care of you.”

“I can take perfectly good care of Gracie, mamma Vi,” asserted Lulu with dignity.

“Here comes papa,” cried Max, as a step was heard in the hall.

Then the door opened, and the captain came in.

“We’ve had an invitation, papa, and hope you will let us accept it,” Max said, coming eagerly forward.

“O papa! please, please do!” cried Lulu, running to him, and taking hold of his hand.

“Let me hear about it,” he said, sitting down, and allowing Lulu to take possession of one knee, Gracie of the other; “but speak one at a time.  Max, you are the eldest:  we will let you have the first turn.”

Violet sat quietly listening, and watching her husband’s face, while the eager children told their tale, and expressed their wishes.

He looked grave and thoughtful; and before he spoke, she had a tolerably correct idea what he was about to say.

“I am glad my little Gracie does not care to go,” he said, caressing the child as he spoke, “because she is too feeble and too young to be so long among comparative strangers, without papa or mamma to take care of her.  I am sorry Lulu does want to accept the invitation, as there is an insuperable objection to letting her do so.”

Lulu’s countenance had assumed an expression of woful disappointment not unmingled with anger and wilfulness.

“I want to go, papa, and I do think you might let me,” she said with an ominous frown.  “I’m not sickly, and I’m a good deal older than Gracie.”

“You cannot go, Lucilla,” he said gravely, and with some sternness of tone.  “Max,” in answer to the eagerly questioning look in the lad’s eyes, “if you are particularly desirous to go, you have my permission.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the boy heartily.

“Papa, why can’t I go?” grumbled Lulu.

“I think a moment’s reflection will tell you why,” he answered.  “I will talk with you about it at another time.  And now not another word on the subject till I mention it to you first.”

Lulu was silenced for the time; but after tea, going into the library, and finding her father sitting there alone, she went up to him, and in her most coaxing tones said, “O papa! won’t you please let me go?  I’ll be”—­

“Lulu,” he interrupted sternly, “go immediately to your room and your bed.”

“Papa, it isn’t my bedtime for two hours yet,” she said, in a half pleading tone, “and I want to read this new ‘Companion’ that has just come.”