her displeasure at its birth; and with a thrill of horror,
he asked himself if this could be her work.

He glanced about the room in search of her and Max.

Neither was there.

He passed noiselessly into the next room, then into the one beyond,--his
wife's boudoir,--and there found his son.

Max sat gazing abstractedly from a window, his eyes showing traces of
tears.

Turning his head as the captain entered, he started up with a joyful but
subdued cry, "Papa!" then threw himself with bitter sobbing into the
arms outstretched to receive him.

"My boy, my dear boy!" the captain said, in moved tones. "What is this
dreadful thing that has happened? Can you tell me how your baby sister
came to get so sad a fall?"

"I didn't see it, papa: I was out riding at the time."

"But you have heard about it from those who did see it?"

"Yes, sir," the lad answered reluctantly; "but--please, papa, don't ask
me what they said."

"Was Lulu at home at the time?"

"Yes, sir."

"Would she be able to tell me all about it, do you think?"

"I haven't seen her, papa, since I came in," Max answered evasively.

The captain sighed. His suspicions had deepened to almost certainty.

"Where is she?" he asked, releasing Max from his embrace, and turning to
leave the room.

"I do not know, papa," answered Max.

"Where was the baby when she fell? can you tell me that?" asked his
father.

"On the veranda, sir: so the servants told me."

"Which of them saw it?"

"Aunt Dinah, Agnes, Aunt Dicey,--nearly all the women, I believe, sir."

The captain mused a moment.

"Was Lulu there?" he asked.

"Yes, sir; and papa,--if you _must_ know just how it happened,--I think
she could tell you all about it as well as anybody else, or maybe
better. And you know she always speaks the truth."

"Yes," the captain said, as if considering the suggestion: "however, I
prefer to hear the story first from some one else."

He passed on through the upper hall and down the stairs, then on out to
the veranda, where he found a group of servants--of whom Aunt Dicey was
one--excitedly discussing the very occurrence he wished to inquire
about.

They did not share the reluctance of Violet and Max, but answered his
questions promptly, with a very full and detailed account of the affair.

They gave a graphic description of the rage Lulu was thrown into at the
sight of Rosie galloping away on the pony she had expected to ride,
repeated her angry retort in