as to make it necessary," he
said. "I have fondly hoped you were improving, but your conduct to-night
shows me that you are still a self-willed, rebellious child."

"Well, papa, I've wanted a bird on my hat for ever so long, and I believe
you would have let me have it, too, if Mamma Vi and Grandma Elsie hadn't
said that."

"I shouldn't let you have it, if they were both in favor of it," he said
severely.

"Why, papa?"

"Because of the cruelty it would encourage. And now, Lucilla, I want you
to reflect how very kind it is in Grandpa Dinsmore and Grandma Elsie to be
willing to take my children in and share with them their own delightful
home. You have not the slightest claim upon their kindness, and very few
people in their case would have made such an offer. I really feel almost
ashamed to accept so much without being able to make some return, even if
I knew my children would all behave as dutifully and gratefully as
possible. And knowing how likely your conduct is to be the exact reverse
of that, I can hardly reconcile it to my conscience to let you go with
them to Ion. I am afraid I ought to place you in a boarding-school at
once, before I am ordered away."

"O papa, don't!" she begged. "I'll try to behave better."

"You must promise more than that," he said; "promise me that you will
yield to the authority of your mamma and her mother and grandfather as if
it were mine; obeying their orders and submitting to any punishment they
may see fit to inflict, just as if it were my act."

"Papa, have you said they might punish me?" she asked, with a look of
wounded pride.

"Yes; I have full confidence in their wisdom and kindness. I know they
will not abuse the authority I give them, and I have told them they may
use any measures with my children that they would with their own in the
same circumstances. Are you ready to give the promise I require?"

"Papa, it is too hard!"

"The choice is between that and being sent to boarding-school."

"Oh, it's so hard!" she sobbed.

"Not hard at all if you choose to be good," her father said. "In that case
you will have a delightful life at Ion. Do you make the promise?"

"Yes, sir," she said, as if the words were wrung from her, then hid her
face on his breast again and cried bitterly.

"My little daughter, these are tears of pride and stubbornness," sighed
her father, passing his hand caressingly over her hair, "and you will
never be happy until those evil passions are c