g horses?" asked Max.

"I hope my children have not been so thoroughly spoiled by living in the
midst of wealth and luxury, that they could not content themselves with
a moderately large house, and plain furniture?" he said gravely.

"I'd rather live that way with you, than have all the fine things, and
you not with us, dear papa," Lulu said, putting her arm round his neck,
and laying her cheek to his.

"I too."

"And I," said Max and Grace.

"And I," he responded, smiling affectionately upon them, "would prefer
such a home with my children about me, to earth's grandest palace
without them. Millions of money could not buy one of my treasures!"

"Not me, papa?" whispered Lulu tremulously, with her lips close to his
ear.

"No, dear child, not even you," he answered, pressing her closer to his
side. "You are no less dear than the others."

"I deserve to be," she said with tears in her voice. "It would be just
and right, papa, if you did not love me half so well as any of your
other children."

She spoke aloud this time, as her father had.

"We all have our faults, Lu," remarked Max, "but papa loves us in spite
of them."

"'God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners,
Christ died for us,'" quoted the captain. "If God so loved me, while yet
his enemy, a rebel against his rightful authority, I may well love my
own children in spite of all their faults, even were those faults more
and greater by far than they are."

"Then, papa, I think we should love you well enough to try very hard to
get rid of them," returned Max.

"And the wonderful love of God for us should constrain us to hate and
forsake all sin," said his father. "The Bible bids us to 'be followers
of God as dear children.' And oh, how we should hate sin when we
remember that it crucified our Lord!"

There was a momentary silence: then the children began talking joyfully
again of the new home in prospect for them, and their hopes and wishes
in regard to it.

Their father entered heartily into their pleasure, and encouraged them
to express themselves freely, until the clock, striking nine, reminded
him that more than the allotted time for the interview had passed. Then
he bade them say good-night, and go to their beds, promising that they
should have other opportunities for saying all they wished on the
subject.

CHAPTER XVI.

"'Tis easier for the generous to forgive
Than for offence to ask it."

In passing th