Grandma Elsie was so very kind and gentle that there seemed more hope of moving her than any one else; so to her she went, and, delighted to find her comparatively alone, no one being near enough to overhear a low-toned conversation, began at once: 

“Grandma Elsie, I want to wear a white dress to the clam-bake; and I think it would be suitable, because the weather is very warm, and white will wash, so that it would not matter if I did get it soiled.”

“My dear child, it is your father’s place to decide what concerns his children, when he is with them,” Elsie said, drawing the little girl to her and smoothing her hair with soft, caressing touch.

“Yes, ma’am; but he says you and Mamma Vi are to decide this.  So if you will only say I may wear the white dress, he will let me.  Won’t you, please?”

“If your father is satisfied with your choice I shall certainly raise no objection; nor will your mamma, I am quite sure.”

“Oh, thank you, ma’am!” and Lulu ran off gleefully in search of her father.

She found him on the veranda, busied with the morning paper, and to her satisfaction, he too was alone.

“What is it, daughter?” he asked, glancing from his paper to her animated, eager face.

“About what I am to wear this afternoon, papa.  I would like to wear the white dress I had on yesterday evening, and Grandma Elsie does not object, and says she knows Mamma Vi will not, if you say I may.”

“Did she say she thought it a suitable dress?” he asked gravely.

Lulu hung her head.  “No, sir; she didn’t say that she did or she didn’t.”

“Go and ask her the question.”

Lulu went back and asked it.

“No, my child, I do not,” Elsie answered.  “It is very unlikely that any one else will be in white or anything at all dressy, and you will look overdressed, which is in very bad taste; besides, though the weather seems warm enough for such thin material here on shore, it will be a great deal cooler on the water; and should the waves or spray come dashing over us, you would find your dress clinging to you like a wet rag—­neither beauty nor comfort in it.”

“I could wear a waterproof over it while we are sailing,” said Lulu.

“Even that might not prove a perfect protection,” Elsie replied.  “I think, my dear, you will do well to content yourself to wear your travelling dress, which is of a light woollen material, neat without being too dressy, and of a color that will not show every little soil.  And it is as good and handsome as the dress I shall wear or as Rosie, and probably any one else, will have on.”

“But you can choose for yourself, Grandma Elsie, and I wish I could.”

“That is one of the privileges of older years,” Elsie answered pleasantly.  “I was considerably older than you are before I was allowed to select my own attire.  But I repeat that I shall not raise the slightest objection to your wearing anything your father is willing to see on you.”