“Certainly, dear child; I shall be glad to have you,” he said with a pleased look; “but I fear you will find it dull, as I shall be too busy to talk to you, or let you talk to me.”

“But I can be with you, and perhaps of some use waiting on you, papa.”

“Perhaps so,” he said.  “You generally contrive to make yourself useful to your father in one way or another.”

Then the carriage drove on, Lulu slipped her hand into his, and together they walked back to the house.

“I do hope I can find something to do that will be a help to you, papa,” she said, as they entered the library.

“I verily believe my dear eldest daughter would like to carry all her father’s burdens if she could,” he said, laying his hand caressingly on her head, “but it wouldn’t be good for me, my darling, to have my life made too easy.”

“I am sure it wouldn’t hurt you, papa, and I only wish I could carry all your burdens,” she replied, with an ardently affectionate look up into his face.  “Isn’t there something I can do now?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at the table; “here are papers, magazines, and letters, quite a pile.  You may cut leaves and open envelopes for me, that will save me some time and exertion—­be quite a help.”

“Yes, sir; I’ll be glad to do it all.  But, oh, papa,” and a bright, eager look came into her face.

“Well, daughter, what is it?” as she paused half breathless with her new idea.

“Papa, couldn’t I write some of the letters for you?  Here is my typewriter that you so kindly let me bring along.  I’ve learned to write pretty fast on it, you know, and wouldn’t it be easier for you just to tell me the words you want said and let me put them down, than to do it all yourself with either it or your pen?”

“That is a bright thought, daughter,” he said, patting her cheek, and smiling down upon her.  “I dare say that plan would shorten my work considerably.”

“Oh, I shall be so glad if it does, papa!” she exclaimed.  “There is nothing in the world I’d enjoy more than finding myself a real help and comfort to you.”

“I have found you both many a time, daughter,” he responded, taking up and opening a letter as he spoke, while she picked up a paper cutter and fell zealously to work opening envelopes, laying each one close to his hand as she had it ready.

“Now, you may get your typewriter ready for work,” he said presently.  “Put in a sheet of this paper,” taking some from a drawer in the table and laying it beside the machine, “date it, and in a moment I will tell you what to say.”

He had already instructed her carefully in punctuation and paragraphing:  spelling also; and, with an occasional direction in regard to such matters, she did her work well.

She was full of joy when at the close of the business he bestowed upon her a judicious amount of praise and said that she had proved a great help to him, shortening his labor very considerably.