At length, in a pause in the talk, the captain said, in a kindly tone,
"One of my little girls seems to have forgotten to bid me good-morning."

"Good-morning, papa," muttered Lulu, sullenly, her face still averted.

"Good-morning, Lucilla," he said; and she knew by his tone and use of
her full name that he was by no means pleased with her behavior.

At that moment they were summoned to breakfast.

Lulu took her place with the others and ate in silence, scarce lifting
her eyes from her plate, while everybody else was full of cheerful chat.

A carriage was at the door when they left the table.

"Make haste, children," the captain said, "so that we may have time for
a long drive before the bathing hour."

Max and Grace moved promptly to obey, but Lulu stood still.

"I spoke to you, Lulu, as well as to the others," her father said, in
his usual kindly tone; "you may go with us, if you wish."

"I don't care to, papa," she answered, turning away.

"Very well, I shall not compel you; you may do just as you please about
it," he returned. "Stay at home if you prefer it. You may go down to the
beach if you choose, but nowhere else."