At the dinner table Mr.Dayton remarked quietly to his daughters, "I believe you have given up attending the party!" "Oh, no, father," said Lucy, "we are going, Lizzie and I." "And what about your dress ?" asked Mr.Dayton.
Lucy bit her lip as she replied, "Why, of course, we must dress to suit you, or stay at home." Lizzie looked quickly at her sister, as if asking how long since she had come to this conclusion; but Lucy's face was calm and unruffled, betraying no secrets, although her tongue did when, after dinner, she found herself alone with Lizzie in their dressing-room.

A long conversation followed, in which Lucy seemed trying to persuade Lizzie to do something wrong.

Possessed of the stronger mind, Lucy's influence over her sister was great, and sometimes a bad one, but never before had she proposed an open act of disobedience toward their father, and Lizzie constantly replied, "No, no, Lucy, I can't do it; besides, I really think I ought not to go, for that pain in my side is no better." "Nonsense, Lizzie," said Lucy.

"If you are going to be as whimsical as Miss Berintha you had better begin at once to dose yourself with burdock or catnip tea." Then, again recurring to the dress, she continued, "Father did not say we must not wear them after we got there.

I shall take mine, anyway, and I wish you would do the same; and then, if he ever knows it, he will not be as much displeased when he finds that you, too, are guilty." After a time, Lizzie was persuaded, but her happiness for that day was destroyed, and when at tea-time her father asked if she felt quite well, she could scarcely keep from bursting into tears.