began to relax her vigilance: it was
so long since her temper had got decidedly the better of her, that she
thought it conquered, or so nearly so that she need not be continually
on the watch against it.

Rosie had brought home with her a new pet,--a beautiful puppy as
mischievous as he was handsome.

Unfortunately it happened again and again that something belonging to
Lulu attracted his attention, and was seriously damaged or totally
destroyed by his teeth and claws. He chewed up a pair of kid gloves
belonging to her; and it did not mend matters that Rosie laughed as
though it were a good joke, and then told her it was her own fault for
not putting them in their proper place when she took them off: he tore
her garden-hat into shreds; he upset her inkstand; tumbled over her
work-basket, tangling the spools of sewing-silk and cotton; jumped upon
her with muddy paws, soiling a new dress and handsome sash; and at last
capped the climax by defacing a book of engravings, belonging to Mr.
Dinsmore, which she had carelessly left in his way.

Then her anger burst forth, and she kicked the dog till his howls
brought Rosie running to the rescue.

"How dare you, Lulu Raymond!" she exclaimed, with flashing eyes, as she
gathered Trip in her arms, and soothed him with caresses. "I'll not
allow my pet to be so ill used in my own mother's house!"

"He deserves a great deal more than I gave him," retorted Lulu,
quivering with passion; "and if you don't want him hurt, you'll have to
keep him out of mischief. Just look what he has done to this book!"

"One of grandpa's handsome volumes of engravings!" cried Rosie, aghast.
"But who left it lying there?"

"I did."

"Then you are the one to blame, and not my poor little Trip, who, of
course, knew no better. How is he to tell that books are not meant for
gnawing quite as much as bones?"

"What is the matter, children?" asked Mr. Dinsmore, stepping out upon
the veranda where the little scene was enacting. "It surprises me to
hear such loud and angry tones."

For a moment each girlish head drooped in silence, hot blushes dyeing
their cheeks; then Lulu, lifting hers, said, "I'm very sorry, grandpa
Dinsmore. I oughtn't to have brought this book out here; but it wouldn't
have come to any harm if it hadn't been for that troublesome dog, that's
as full of mischief as he can be. I don't believe it was more than five
minutes that I left the book lying there on the settee; and when I ran