d their exhibition after tea; a very satisfactory one to those
who took part, and to the spectators.

Every child and young person who was desirous to have it so, was brought
in to one or more of the pictures. Lulu, to her great delight, appeared
in several and did herself credit.

"How are the fingers, dear child? have they been giving you much pain?"
the captain asked when he came to her room for the usual good-night
talk, sitting down as he spoke, drawing her to a seat upon his knee, and
taking the wounded hand tenderly in his.

"Only a twinge once in a while, papa," she said, putting the other arm
round his neck and smiling into his eyes. "It's been a very nice day for
me in spite of my accident; everybody has been so good and kind. I think
they tried to give me a pleasant part in as many of the tableaux as they
could to comfort me, and really after all it was only a little bit of a
hurt."

"But narrowly escaped being a very serious one. Ah my heart is full of
thankfulness to God for you, my darling, and for myself, that the injury
was no greater. You might have lost your fingers or your hand; you might
even have been killed by falling in such a way as to strike your head
very hard upon the ice."

"Did anybody ever get killed in that way, papa?" she asked.

"Yes, I have read or heard of one or two such cases, and had it happened
to you I could hardly forgive myself for letting go your hand."

"I'm sure you might feel that it was all my own fault, papa," she said
tightening her clasp of his neck and kissing him with ardent affection;
"every bit my own fault because I begged you to let me try it alone."

"No, that could not have excused me; because it is a father's duty to
take every care of his child, whether she wishes it or not; and it is my
settled purpose to do so henceforward," he said, returning her caress
with great tenderness.

CHAPTER VIII.

The storm continued through the night but had ceased before the guests
at Ion were astir; the ground was thickly carpeted with snow and clouds
still obscured the sun, but there was no wind and the cold was not
severe.

"Just the day for a snow fight," remarked Frank Dinsmore, as he and the
other lads of the company stood grouped together on the veranda shortly
after breakfast; "plenty of snow and in prime condition for making into
balls."

"So it is," said Herbert Travilla, "and I believe I'm boy enough yet to
enjoy a scrimmage in it."

"I too,"