“Oh!  I am glad to know it was not done purposely,” Violet exclaimed,—­though in a tone hardly raised above a whisper,—­lifting her tearful eyes to his face with a look of something like relief:  “knowing that, I begin to feel that it may be possible to forgive and forget, especially if the consequences do not prove lasting,” she added with a sob, and turning her eyes to the little wan face on the pillow.  “But I certainly take no delight in the severity of her punishment:  in fact, I fear it may destroy any little affection she has had for her baby sister.”

“No,” he said, “I am not at all apprehensive of that.  When she found I was about to punish her, she said she almost wanted me to; that she felt like beating herself for hurting the baby, then went on to explain her mistake,—­thinking it was the dog tugging at her dress,—­and I then gave her fully to understand, that the chastisement was not for hurting the baby, but for indulging in such a fury of passion, a fault that I have punished her for on more than one former occasion; telling her, too, that I intended to chastise her every time I knew of her being guilty of it.”

The sound of a low sob caused the captain to turn his head, to find his little Grace standing at the back of his chair, and crying bitterly, though without much noise.

He took her hand, and drew her to his side.  “What is the matter, daughter?” he asked tenderly.

“O papa!  I’m so sorry for Lulu,” she sobbed; “please, mayn’t I go to her for a little while?”

“No, Gracie.  I cannot allow her the pleasure of seeing you, either to-night, or for some days.”

“But, papa, you said—­you told mamma just now—­that you had already punished her very severely; and must you keep on?”

“Yes, my child, so far as to keep her in solitude, that she may have plenty of time to think about what she has brought upon herself and others by the indulgence of an ungovernable temper.  She needs to have the lesson impressed upon her as deeply as possible.”

“I’m so sorry for her, papa!” repeated the gentle little pleader.

“So am I, daughter,” he said; “but I think, that to see that she has the full benefit of this sad lesson, will be the greatest kindness I can do her.  And my little Grace must try to believe that papa knows best.

“Now, give me a good-night kiss, and go to your bed, for it is quite time you were there.”

As he spoke, he took her in his arms, and held her for a moment in a close embrace.  “Papa’s dear little girl!” he said softly:  “you have never given me a pang, except by your feeble health.”

“I don’t want to, papa:  I hope I never, never shall!” she returned, hugging him tight.

Leaving him, she went to Violet, put her arms about her neck, and said in her sweet, childish treble, “Dear mamma, don’t feel so dreadfully about baby:  I’ve been asking God to make her quite, quite well; and I do believe he will.”