THE BEAUTIFUL SOUL. 147

into the grave face of her father, as he walked
in perfect silence by her side. This silence
vexed Lucy yet more. She wanted to hear her
father express his detestation of those boys, and
his determination to punish them. At length,
unable longer to suppress these emotions, she
burst into tears, exclaiming, “ Poor me! every-
body may laugh at me, and call me what they
will: I have nobody to care for it—even my
own father does not care.”

They were just then passing one of the benches
placed in the park, and, scating himself on it,
and drawing Lucy beside him, Mr. Lovett said,
“Youu mistake, Lucy ; your father loves you
too well not to care a great deal for anything
which distresses you; but I have a subject of
deeper care. How can I think of anything clse,
when I have just heard my own dear daughter
say such terrible words? when I have scen in
her the spirit of a murderer—a spirit so ugly
and deformed—so unlike the loveliness of Him
who, ‘when he was reviled, reviled not again?’ ”

“T can't help it; I know I am ugly—ngly in
body and soul; it is of no use trying to be better ;

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