assumed an air of cheerfulness and chatted of other things with a
sprightliness and gayety that won him from sad thoughts in spite of
himself.

CHAPTER XXII.

"Prithee, forgive me!"

"Papa, can't I see Gracie?" Lulu asked when he came in with her dinner.

"Certainly, if you are ready to obey."

The child's lip quivered. "I'm so tired of that bread and milk," she said.
"Can't I have something else? I'm sure you and everybody in the house have
a great many good things."

"We have, and it is a great grief to me that I cannot share them with my
little Lulu. I have very little enjoyment in them because of that."

"Papa, I'm sorry I've been so naughty, so impertinent to you. I don't mean
ever to be so again; and I'll be a good girl every way after this, if
you'll let me out."

"Then come with me to your mamma," he said, holding out his hand.

"I can't ask pardon of her," she said, turning away with a sob.

"You must, Lucilla," he said in a tone that made her tremble. "You need
not think to conquer your father. I shall keep you here on this plain
fare and in solitary confinement until you are entirely penitent and
submissive."

He waited a moment, but receiving no reply, went out and locked the door.

"She is still stubborn," he said to Violet, whom he found alone in their
room across the hall, sighing deeply as he spoke; "and the close
confinement is telling upon her; she grows pale and thin. Oh, how my heart
bleeds for her, my dear child! But I must be firm. This is an important
crisis in her life, and her future character--therefore her happiness for
time and eternity--will depend greatly upon how this struggle ends."

The next day was the Sabbath, and on returning from church, he went to
Lulu's room.

Little had passed between them since the talk of yesterday when he carried
in her dinner. He found her now sitting in a listless attitude, and she
did not look up on his entrance.

He lifted her from her chair, sat down in it himself, and took her on his
knee.

"Has this holy day brought no good thoughts or feelings to my little
girl?" he asked, gently smoothing the hair back from her forehead.

"You know I couldn't go to church, papa," she said, without looking at
him.

"No; I know you could have gone, had you chosen to be a good, obedient
child."

"Papa, how can you go on trying to make me tell a lie when you have always
taught me it was such a wicked, wicked thing to do?"

"I try to ma