"No, Brother Levis, I won't be satisfied with that," she said. "I want you all to take tea with us to-morrow evening." "Are you not willing that we should, father?" asked Lucilla. "Yes, if you wish to do so," he replied; and as all expressed themselves desirous to accept the invitation, they did so; and they were so well and hospitably entertained that everyone was delighted. They returned home rather early in the evening, on account of the little ones. Violet took them upstairs at once, and Grace went to her room, so that Lucilla and her father were left alone together, as so often happened early in the evening. She followed him into the library, asking, "Haven't you some letters to be answered, father? and shall I not write them for you on the typewriter?" "I fear you are too tired, daughter, and had better be getting ready for bed," he answered, giving her a searching but affectionate look. "Oh, no, sir," she said; "I am neither tired nor sleepy; and if I can be of any use to my dear, kind father, nothing would please me better." He smiled at that, lifted the cover from the machine, and they worked busily together for the next half-hour or more. When they had finished, "Thank you, daughter," he said; "you are such a help and comfort to me that I hardly know what I should ever do without you." "Oh, you are so kind to say that, you dear father," she returned, her eyes shining with joy and filial love. "I often say to myself, 'How could I ever live without my dear father?' and then I ask God to let you live as long as I do. And I hope he will." "He will do what is best for us, daughter," returned the captain in moved tones; "and if we must part in this world, we may hope to meet in that better land where death and partings are unknown." "Yes, papa, the thought of that must be the greatest comfort when death robs us of our dear ones." He took her hand, led her to a sofa, and, seating her by his side, put his arm about her, drawing her close to him. "I have something to say to you, daughter," he said in low, tender tones. She gave him a rather startled, inquiring look, asking, "About what, papa?" "You remember the bit of news--in regard to the escape of a convict--which hastened our departure for the North some months ago?" "Yes, sir; and has he not been caught and returned to his prison?" "No; and I have reason to think he is somewhere in this neighborhood, probably bent on evil deeds, perhaps among them some harm to my daughter, whose testimony helped to send him to prison for the burglary committed here. I tell you this, my child, as a warning to you to be very careful how you expose yourself to possible danger from him." "Yes, papa, I will; but you know I never go outside the grounds without a protector, because you long ago forbade my doing so." "Yes; but now you must not go everywhere even inside of them; avoid the wood, and keep near the house unless I am with you."