It was exactly what she had intended to do, but because he ordered it, it instantly became the thing she did not want to do.

However, she went into her room, and closing the door after her, not too gently, said aloud with a stamp of her foot, “Hateful old tyrant!” then walked on into Violet’s dressing-room, where her sister still was.

Gracie had lain down upon a sofa and wept herself to sleep, but the supper bell had waked her, and she was crying again.  Catching sight of Lulu’s flushed, angry face, she asked what was the matter.

“I wish we could go away from these people and never, never come back again!” cried Lulu in her vehement way.

“I don’t,” said Gracie.  “I love mamma and Grandma Elsie, and Grandma Rose, and Grandpa Dinsmore, too, and——­”

“I hate him!  I’d like to beat him! the old tyrant!” interrupted Lulu, in a burst of passion.

“O Lu!  I’m sure he’s been kind to us; they’re all kind to us when we’re good,” expostulated Grace.  “But what has happened to make you so angry, and why aren’t you eating your supper with the rest?”

“Do you think I’d go and sit at the table with them when they won’t have you and Max there, too?”

“What about Max? did he do something wrong, too?”

“No; it wasn’t anything wicked; he just bought some wood for his carving with some of his own money.”

“But maybe he went without leave?” Gracie said, half inquiringly.

“Yes, that was it; he forgot to ask.  A very little thing to punish him for, I’m sure; but Mr. Dinsmore (I sha’n’t call him grandpa) says he must stay in his own room till this time to-morrow.”

“Why,” said Gracie, “that’s worse than mamma’s punishment to me for—­for doing such a wicked, wicked thing!”

“Yes, she’s not such a cruel tyrant.  He’d have beaten you black and blue.  I hope she won’t tell him about it.”

A terrified look came into Gracie’s eyes, and she burst out crying again.

“O Gracie, don’t!” Lulu entreated, kneeling down beside the sofa and clasping her arms about her.  “I didn’t mean to frighten you so.  Of course, Mamma Vi won’t; if she meant to she’d have done it before now, and you’d have heard from him, too.”

A step came along the hall, the door opened, and Agnes appeared bearing a large silver waiter.

“Ise brung yo’ suppah, chillens,” she said, setting it down on a table.

Then lifting a stand and placing it near Gracie’s couch, she presently had it covered with a snowy cloth and a dainty little meal arranged upon it:  broiled chicken, stewed oysters, delicate rolls, hot buttered muffins and waffles, canned peaches with sugar and rich cream, sponge cake, nice and fresh, and abundance of rich sweet milk.

The little girls viewed these dainties with great satisfaction, and suddenly discovered that they were very hungry.

Agnes set up a chair for each, saw them begin their meal, then left the room, saying she would be back again directly with more hot cakes.