“Dear child,” said Violet, drawing her to her side and kissing her with affectionate warmth, “how glad I am to hear you say that.  May I repeat your words to grandpa as a message from you?”

Again Lulu had a struggle with herself, and perhaps it was only the thought that this was the easiest way to make an apology, which would probably be required of her sooner or later, that helped her to conquer.

Her entry in her diary in regard to the occurrence was, “I was a little saucy to Grandpa Dinsmore because he was hard on Max for just a little bit of a trifle, but I’ve said I’m sorry, and it’s all right now.”

* * * * *

Edward and his grandfather having a business matter to talk over together, repaired to the library on leaving the table, and Zoe, instead of going, as usual, to the parlor with the others, went to her own rooms.

She had seen Violet, who was a little in advance of her, going into hers, and only waiting to take a little package from a closet, she ran lightly up to Max’s door, tapped gently on it, then in her eagerness, opened it slightly, with a whispered, “It’s only I, Max.  May I come in?”

“Yes, indeed,” he answered, springing forward to admit her and hand her a chair.  “How good in you to come, Aunt Zoe!”

“No, I did it to please myself.  You know you’ve always been a favorite with me, Max, and I want to know what this is all about.”

Max told her.

“It’s a perfect shame!” she exclaimed indignantly.  “I can’t see the least bit of harm in your going to the store and buying what you did.  You weren’t even wasting the pocket money that you had a right to spend as you pleased.  Grandpa Dinsmore is a—­a—­rather tyrannical, I think.”

“It does seem hard to have so little liberty,” Max said, discontentedly, “but I don’t know that he’s any more strict, after all, than papa.”

“Well, I must run away now,” said Zoe, jumping up.  “Here’s something to sweeten your imprisonment,” putting a box of confectionery into his hand.  “Good-by,” and she tripped away.

She met her husband in the hall upon which their rooms opened.  “Where have you been?” he asked coldly, and with a suspicious look.

“That’s my affair,” she returned, flushing, and with a saucy little toss of her pretty head.

He gave her a glance of mingled surprise and displeasure.  “What has come over you, Zoe?” he asked.  “Can’t you give a civil answer to a simple question?”

“Of course I can, Mr. Travilla, but I think it’s a pretty story if I’m to be called to account as to where I go even about the house.”

“Nothing but a guilty conscience could have made you look at my question in that light,” he said, leaning against the mantel and looking down severely at her as she stood before him, for they were now in her boudoir.  “I presume you have been in Max’s room, condoling with and encouraging him in his defiance of grandpa’s authority; and let me tell you, I won’t allow it.”