asty in thy
spirit to be angry; for anger resteth in the bosom of fools.' It seems
to be the sort of foolishness that, more than any other, is bound in the
heart of this child of mine. It seems, too, that nothing but 'the rod of
correction' will drive it out."

She gave him a frightened look.

"No," he said, "you need not be alarmed: as you did not indulge your
passionate impulse, I have no punishment to inflict.

"My dear, dear child, try, _try_ to conquer the propensity! Watch and
pray against this besetting sin."

"I will, papa," she murmured with a half despairing sigh.

Some weeks later--it was on an afternoon early in December--Lulu and
Grace were in their own little sitting-room, busied in the manufacture
of some small gifts for "papa and Maxie," who were, of course, to be
kept in profound ignorance on the subject till the time for
presentation; therefore, the young workers sat with locked doors; and
when presently Maxie's boyish footsteps were heard rapidly approaching,
their materials were hastily gathered up, thrust into a closet close at
hand, and the key turned upon them. Then Lulu ran and opened the door.

"Hollo!" cried Max, in a perfectly good-humored tone, "what do you lock
a fellow out for? It looks as if you're up to some mischief. I just came
to tell you there's company in the parlor, and they've asked for you,
both of you."

"Who are they?" asked Lulu, glancing at her reflection in a pier-glass
opposite, to make sure that dress and hair were in order.

She was neat and orderly by nature, and her father very particular about
the appearance of his children; not caring to have them expensively
attired, but always neat and tidy.

"The Oaks young folks," replied Max,--"Horace and Frank and their two
sisters, Maud and Sydney."

"Come, Gracie," said Lulu, turning to her little sister: "we both look
nice, and we'll go right down."

The children all felt rather flattered by the call, because the Oaks
young people were older than themselves. Horace, Frank, and Maud were
all older than Max, and Sydney was between him and Lulu in age.

With the Dinsmore girls, the Raymonds were quite well acquainted, having
seen them frequently at Ion, and sometimes met them elsewhere; but the
boys, who had been away at school, were comparative strangers.

Violet was in the parlor chatting pleasantly with her young cousins, the
call being intended for her also; and her cheerful presence set her
little step-daught