CHAPTER XII.
The duties of the schoolroom had filled up the rest of the morning for Lulu, so occupying her mind that she could give only an occasional thought to the sad fact that she was in disgrace with her father.
Then came dinner, which she took in the dining-room, feeling it lonely enough with the whole family absent; immediately after that a music lesson filled another hour, and that was followed by an hour of practice on the piano.
Then Alma wanted her again, and then, knowing it was what her father would approve, she took her usual exercise about the grounds; after which she prepared her lessons for the next day.
But all the time her heart was heavy with the consciousness that "papa, dear papa," was displeased with her, and she felt that there could be no happiness for her till she had made her peace with him.
"Oh," she sighed again and again, "will he never, never come, that I may tell him how sorry and ashamed I am ?" But when tea-time came he was still absent, and that meal also had to be taken alone.
She did not linger at the table, and on leaving it went into the library where a wood fire blazed cheerfully on the hearth, for the evenings were now quite cool, and settling herself in an easy-chair listened for the sound of his coming.
She was too much disturbed, and too anxious to read or work, so sat doing nothing but listen intently for the sound of horses' hoofs or carriage-wheels on the drive without.
"Will he punish me ?" she was asking herself.

"I believe I want him to, for I'm sure I richly deserve it.

Oh, there he is! I hear his voice in the hall!" and her heart beat fast as she sprang up and ran to meet him.
He was already at the door of the room when she reached it.
"Papa," she said humbly, and with her eyes on the carpet, "I--I'm very, very sorry for my naughtiness this morning.

I have obeyed you--asked Alma's pardon--and--please, dear papa, won't you forgive me, too ?" "Certainly, dear child," he said, bending down to press a kiss upon her lips.

"I am always ready to forgive my dear children when they tell me they are sorry for having offended, and ready to obey." He led her to the easy-chair by the fireside, which she had just vacated, and seating himself therein, drew her to a seat upon his knee.
"Papa, I'm so sorry, so very sorry for my badness, so ashamed of not being obedient to such a dear, kind father," she said, low and tremulously, blushing painfully as she spoke.