These letters reached Ion on New Year’s morning.  The captain read them with deep concern, first to himself, then to Mrs. Travilla and Violet, as they happened to be alone together in the parlor.

The hearts of both ladies were deeply touched, and their eyes filled with tears as they listened to the story of the wrongs of the poor motherless children.

“Oh, captain, you will not leave them there where they are so ill used?” Vi said almost imploringly; “it breaks my heart to think of their sufferings!”

“Don’t let it distress you, my dear girl,” he replied soothingly; “we should perhaps make some allowance for unintentional exaggeration.  There are always two sides to a story, and we have but one here.”

“But told in a very straightforward way,” Elsie said with warmth.  “Both letters seem to me to bear the stamp of truth.  Depend upon, it, captain, there is good ground for their complaints.”

“I fear so,” he said, “and am quite as anxious, my dear Mrs. Travilla, as you could wish to set my dear children free from such tyranny; but what can I do?  In obedience to orders, I must return to my vessel to-morrow and sail at once for a distant foreign port.  I cannot go to see about my darlings, and I know of no better place to put them.  I shall, however, write to Mrs. Scrimp, directing her to have immediately the best medical advice for Gracie, and to follow it, feeding her as the doctor directs.  Also always to give Lulu as much as she wants of good, plain, wholesome food.  I shall also write to Fox, giving very particular directions in regard to the management of my son.”

CHAPTER XV.

“Great minds, like heaven, are pleased in doing good.”
—­Rowe.

Capt.  Raymond’s departure left Violet more lonely than his coming had found her, much as she was at that time missing her elder sister and brother.

They were to correspond, but as he would sail immediately for a foreign port, the exchange of letters between them could not, of course, be very frequent.

Her mother, grandpa, and Grandma Rose all sympathized with her in the grief of separation from the one who had become so dear, and exerted themselves to cheer and comfort her.

She and her mamma were bosom companions, and had many a confidential chat about the captain and his poor children, the desire to rescue the latter from their tormentors and make them very happy growing in the hearts of both.

As the captain had not enjoined secrecy upon them in regard to the letters of Max and Lulu, and it was so much the habit of both to speak freely to Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore—­especially the former—­of all that interested themselves, it was not long before they too had heard, with deep commiseration, the story of the unkind treatment to which Max, Lulu, and Gracie were subjected.

“We must find a way to be of service to them,” Mr. Dinsmore said.  “Perhaps by instituting inquiries among our friends and acquaintances we may hear of some kind and capable person able and willing to take charge of them, and to whom their father would be willing to commit them.”