urself
ready for bed," he commanded, then, stepping to the table, sat down,
drew the lamp nearer, opened her Bible, lying there, and slowly turned
over the leaves as if in search of some particular passage, while she
moved slowly about the room, tremblingly and tearfully obeying his
order.

"Shall I get into bed, papa?" she asked tremulously, when she had
finished.

"No, not yet. Come here."

She went and stood at his side, with drooping head and fast-beating
heart, her eyes on the carpet, for she dared not look in his face.

He seemed to have found the passage he sought; and, keeping the book
open with his left hand, he turned to her as she stood at his right.

"Lucilla," he said, and his accents were not stern, though very grave
and sad, "you cannot have forgotten that I have repeatedly and
positively forbidden you to go wandering alone about unfrequented
streets and roads, even in broad daylight; yet you attempted to do that
very thing to-night in the darkness, which, of course, makes it much
worse."

"Yes, papa; but I--I didn't mean ever to come back."

"You were running away?"

"Yes, sir: I--I thought you would be glad to get rid of me," she sobbed.

He did not speak again for a moment; and when he did, it was in moved
tones.

"Supposing I did desire to be rid of you,--which is very far from being
the case,--I should have no right to let you go; for you are my own
child, whom God has given to me to take care of, provide for, and train
up for his service. You and I belong to each other as parent and child:
you have no right to run away from my care and authority, and I have
none to let you do so. In fact, I feel compelled to punish the attempt
quite severely, lest there should be a repetition of it."

"Oh, don't, papa!" she sobbed. "I'll never do it again."

"It was an act of daring, wilful disobedience," he said, "and I must
punish you for it. Also, for the fury of passion indulged in this
morning. Read this, and this, aloud," he added, pointing to the open
page; and she obeyed, reading faltering, sobbingly,--

"'Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child; but the rod of
correction shall drive it far from him.' ... 'Withhold not correction
from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die.
Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from
hell.'"

"You see, my child, that my orders are too plain to be misunderstood,"
he said, when she had finished; "and they