He had privately given instructions beforehand to one of the servants to
attend to Miss Lulu's wants at the table, seeing that her plate was
supplied with whatever viands she desired; and it was done so quietly
that no one noticed anything unusual in the conduct of the meal.
Still Lulu was uncomfortably conscious of being in disgrace, and seized
the first opportunity to slip quietly away to her own room.
She took up the story-book--still unfinished--which had got her into this
trouble, but could not feel the interest she had before; an uneasy
conscience prevented.
Laying it aside, she sat for some moments with her elbow on the
window-sill, her cheek in her hand, her eyes gazing upon vacancy. She was
thinking of what Max had said about the duty of confession to her father.
"I wish I didn't have to," she sighed to herself; "I wish papa hadn't
said I must write out every day what I've been doing and send the diary
to him. I think it's hard; it's bad enough to have to confess my
wrong-doing to him when he's at home. It's just as well he isn't, though,
for I know he'd punish me if he was.
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