"What have you been reading to-day?" asked the captain, throwing off his
coat, pouring water into the basin from the pitcher, and beginning his
ablutions.

Max hung his head in silence till the question was repeated, then
stammered out the title of the book, the perusal of which he was so
desirous to finish.

"Where did you get it?" asked his father.

"I bought it at a news-stand, papa."

"You must not buy anything more of that kind, Max; you must not read any
such trash."

"I will not again, papa; I should not this time if you had ever forbidden
me before."

"No, I don't believe you would be guilty of wilful disobedience to any
positive command of your father," the captain said in a grave but kindly
tone; "and yet I think you suspected I would not approve, else why were
you so unwilling to tell me what you had been reading?"

He was standing before the bureau now, hairbrush in hand, and as he spoke
he paused in his work, and gazed searchingly at his son.

Max's face flushed hotly, and his eyes drooped for a moment, then looking
up into his father's face he said frankly, "Yes, papa, I believe I was
afraid you would take the book from me if you saw it. I deserve that you
should be angry with me for that and for lending one to Lu."