“That reminds me,” said Evelyn, “that just before dismissing us Grandpa Dinsmore requested us to refrain from mentioning what had passed, unless it should become quite necessary to do so.”

“You may be sure Rosie will find it necessary,” Lulu said; “she will tell her mamma all about it—­Mamma Vi, too—­and it will presently be known all over the house; even by the Keiths.  I wish they weren’t here,”

“Don’t you like them?  I do.”

“Yes; Aunt Marcia and Aunt Annis—­as we children all call them—­are kind and pleasant as can be; but I’d rather they wouldn’t hear about this; though I don’t care so very much either,” she added, half defiantly.  “What difference does it make what people think of you?”

“Some difference, surely,” said Evelyn, gently; “for the Bible says, ’A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold.’  Papa used to tell me that to deserve a good name, and to have it, was one of the greatest blessings of life.  I must go now,” she added, pulling out a pretty little watch, one of the last gifts of that loved father; “Aunt Elsie will be expecting me.”

“I wish I could go with you,” said Lulu, sighing.

“Oh, that would be nice!” exclaimed Evelyn.  “Can’t you?”

Lulu shook her head.  “Not without leave, and I don’t want to ask it now.  Oh, Eva, I do wish I hadn’t to obey these people who are no relation to me!”

“But they are very kind; and Aunt Violet is your father’s wife, and loves you for his sake, I am sure.”

“But she’s too young to be a real mother to me, and the rest are no relation at all.  I begged papa not to say I must obey them, but he would say it.”

“Then, loving him so dearly, as I am sure you do, I should think you would be quite willing to obey them, because it is his will that you should.”

“I don’t see that that follows,” grumbled Lulu; “and—­now you will think me very bad, I know—­I have sometimes even refused to obey papa himself.”

“Oh, how sorry you will be for it if ever he is taken away from you!” Eva said, with emotion.  “But did he let you have your own way?”

“No, indeed; he is as strict in exacting obedience from his children as Grandpa Dinsmore himself.  I’m dreadfully afraid Grandpa Dinsmore or somebody will write to him about to-day; I do hope they won’t, for he said if I should be disobedient and troublesome he would take me away from here and put me in a boarding-school.”

“And you wouldn’t like that?”

“No, indeed! for how could I bear to be separated from Gracie and Max?”

“I hope you won’t have to go; I should be sorry enough on my own account as well as yours,” Evelyn said, with an affectionate kiss.  “I must really go now; so good-by, dear, till to-morrow.”

Evelyn had hardly gone when Max joined his sister.  “Lulu, why can’t you behave?” he exclaimed in a tone of impatience and chagrin.  “You make Gracie and me both ashamed of your ingratitude to Grandpa Dinsmore.”