Violet looked up a little anxiously into her husband’s face as she made room for him on the sofa by her side.  “Is anything wrong with the children, Levis?” she asked in an undertone.

“No, love,” he said; “I took them away early that I might have a little serious talk with the older two.  You know I shall not long be afforded the opportunity.”

“But you look troubled,” she said, in tenderly sympathizing accents.  “May I not share your care or sorrow, whatever it is?”

“I would rather share only joys and blessings with you, dearest, and keep the cares and burdens to myself,” he answered, smiling lovingly upon her, and pressing with affectionate warmth the little hand she had placed in his.

“No, I can’t consent to that,” she said.  “I consider it one of my precious privileges to be allowed to share your burdens and anxieties.  Won’t you tell me what troubles you?”

“It is nothing new, little wife,” he answered cheerfully; “but I am doubting whether I do right to give your mother and grandfather so troublesome a charge as Lulu.  She is almost certain to be wilful and rebellious occasionally, if not oftener.”

Mrs. Travilla had resigned the babe to its mother, and was now standing near the sofa where the captain and Violet sat.

“Mamma,” said the latter, turning to her, “my husband is making himself miserable with the fear that Lulu will prove too troublesome to you and grandpa.”

“Please do not, captain,” Elsie said brightly, accepting the easy-chair he hastened to bring forward for her.  “Why should I not have a little trouble as well as other people?  Lulu is an attractive child to me, very bright and original, a little headstrong, perhaps, but I shall lay siege to her heart and try to rule her through her affections.”

“I think that will be the better plan,” he said, the look of care lifting from his brow; “she is a warm-hearted child, and more easily led than driven.  But she is sometimes very impertinent, and I would by no means have her indulged in that.  I wish you would promise me never to let it pass without punishment.  She must be taught respect for authority and for her superiors.”

Elsie’s face had grown very grave while he was speaking.  “What punishment do you prescribe?” she asked.  “The child is yours.”

“That should depend upon the heinousness of the offence,” he replied.  “I can only say, please treat her exactly as if she were your own.”

Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore now joined them, and the question what studies the children should pursue during the coming winter was discussed and settled.  Then the captain spoke of reading matter, asked advice in regard to suitable books and periodicals, and begged his friends to have a careful oversight of all the mental food of his children.

“You could not intrust that matter to a more wise and capable person than papa,” Elsie said, with an affectionate, smiling look at her father.  “I well remember how strict he was with me in my childhood; novels were coveted but forbidden sweets.”