“Yes, indeed, dearest,” he said, returning the smile and drawing her closer to his side with a fond gesture, “where one’s slightest wish is promptly and eagerly complied with a command would be altogether superfluous.  And though I consider it wise and right—­yes, an unquestionable duty to exact prompt, cheerful obedience from my children, I do not think I should ask it of my wife.  The women of the apostle’s day were not the educated, self-reliant ones of the present time; therefore our wives are hardly to be expected to conform themselves strictly to the rules he lays down for them.  But if husband and wife love each other as they ought,—­as you and I do, for instance,—­any friction between them will be a thing of rare occurrence.”

“And when, if ever, there is any,” said Violet, “I think the wife should be the one to give way—­unless she feels that to yield to the wishes of her husband would be a breach of the moral law; but in that case she must remember the answer of Peter to the high priest, ’We ought to obey God rather than men.’”

“Yes,” he said; “and when a parent commands something which is plainly contrary to God’s command,—­lying or stealing for instance,—­it is the child’s duty to refuse to obey.  There are parents, alas! who do train their children to vice and crime, and when that is the case they, the children, must remember and act upon the teaching of the apostle, ’We ought to obey God rather than men.’”

“How I pity children who are placed in such circumstances,” sighed Violet.  “Oh, I often think what a cause for gratitude I have in the fact that my parents were earnest Christians, and brought me and all their children up in the fear of God; also that my children have an earnest, devoted Christian for their father.”

“And for their mother, my sweet wife,” he added with emotion.

Neither spoke again for some moments.  It was Violet who broke the silence.

“My dear,” she said, “I wonder if you have noticed, as I have, that my cousin Donald greatly admires our Lu.”

“Ah! has he told you so, my love?” queried the captain, a touch of regret and anxiety in his tone.

“Oh, no!” laughed Violet; “but he looks at her with evidently admiring eyes, listens eagerly to anything and everything she says, and especially to her playing and singing; which are certainly worth hearing.  He greatly admires her drawings and paintings, too, some of which I was showing him the other day; also her evident devotion to her father, and readiness to assist and make herself useful to him in every possible way.”

“Yes,” sighed the captain, “her father would hardly know what to do without her.  Yet, of course, I should be far from willing to stand in the way of my child’s happiness.  However, I hope and believe that her father is still nearer and dearer to her than any other human creature.  She has often assured me that such was the fact; not waiting to be questioned, but telling the story of her love as something in which we could both rejoice, and which she was sure was reciprocal.  As it certainly is.  I love her very dearly; though not more than I do each of the others.  Indeed, it gives me a heartache to think I shall ever be called to part with any one of them.”