“No, you needn’t,” said Zoe, “for see, there is her father going to her.  But let us go home, for I must change my dress before tea.”

“And we want time to walk leisurely along,” returned Edward, rising and giving her his hand to help her up the steps.

Lulu was reading, so absorbed in the story that she did not perceive her father’s approach, and as he accosted her with, “It is late for you to be here alone, my child, you should have come in an hour ago,” she gave a great start, and involuntarily tried to hide her book.

“What have you there?  Evidently something you do not wish your father to see,” he said, bending down and taking it from her unwilling hand.

“Ah, I don’t wonder!” as he hurriedly turned over a few pages.  “A dime novel!  Where did you get this, Lulu?”

“It’s Max’s, papa, he lent it to me.  O papa, what made you do that?” as with an energetic fling the captain suddenly sent it far out into the sea.  “Max made me promise to take care of it and give it back to him, and besides I wanted to finish the story.”

“Neither you nor Max shall ever read such poisonous stuff as that with my knowledge and consent,” replied the captain in stern accents.

“Papa, I didn’t think you’d be so unkind,” grumbled Lulu, her face expressing extreme vexation and disappointment, “or that you would throw away other people’s things.”

“Unkind, my child?” he said, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his.  “Suppose you had gathered a quantity of beautiful, sweet-tasted berries that I knew to be poisonous, and were about to eat them; would it be unkind in me to snatch them out of your hand and throw them into the sea?”

“No, sir; because it would kill me to eat them, but that book couldn’t kill me, or even make me sick.”

“No, not your body, but it would injure your soul, which is worth far more.  I’m afraid I have been too negligent in regard to the mental food of my children,” he went on after a slight pause, rather as if thinking aloud than talking to Lulu, “and unfortunately I cannot take the oversight of it constantly in the future.  But remember, Lulu,” he added firmly, “I wholly forbid dime novels, and you are not to read anything without first obtaining the approval of your father or one of those under whose authority he has placed you.”

Lulu’s face was full of sullen discontent and anger.  “Papa,” she said, “I don’t like to obey those people.”

“If you are wise, you will try to like what has to be,” he said.

“It wouldn’t have to be if you would only say I needn’t, papa.”

“I shall not say that, Lucilla,” he answered with grave displeasure.  “You need guidance and control even more than most children of your age, and I should not be doing my duty if I left you without them.”

“I don’t like to obey people that are no relation to me!” she cried, viciously kicking away a little heap of sand.