Elsie Dinsmore

ELSIE
DINSMOKE

FINLEY

1H

>u

.

S5

This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS
ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE
CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out on
the day indicated below:

23Mar'46LS
A Apr '46 U

7<

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2012 with funding from

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

http://www.archive.org/details/elsiedinsmoreOOfinley

'Really, Dinsmore," said Mr. Travilla, "your

little girl is remarkably intelligent, as

well as remarkably pretty."

ELSE DINSMORE

By

MARTHA FINLEY

Frontispiece by
HELENE NYCE

THE
SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY

AKRON, OHIO

MADE IN U. S. A.

ELSIE DINSMORE

CHAPTER I.

"I never saw an eye so bright,

And yet so soft as hers;
It sometimes swam in liquid light*

And sometimes swam in tears ;
It seemed a beauty set apart
For softness and for sighs."

Mrs. Welby.

The school-room at Roselands was a very
pleasant apartment ; the ceiling, it is true, was
somewhat lower than in the more modern por-
tion of the building, for the wing in which it
was situated dated back to the old-fashioned
days prior to the Revolution, while the larger
part of the mansion had not stood more than
twenty or thirty years ; but the effect was re-
lieved by windows reaching from floor to
ceiling, and opening on a veranda which over-
looked a lovely flower-garden, beyond which
were fields and woods and hills. The view
from the veranda was very beautiful, and the
room itself looked most inviting, with its neat
matting, its windows draped with snow-white
muslin, its comfortable chairs, and pretty
rosewood desks.

t

t

8 ELSIE DINSMORE

Within this pleasant apartment sat Miss
Day with her pupils, six in number. She was
giving a lesson to Enna, the youngest, the
spoiled darling of the family, the pet and play-
thing of both father and mother. It was
always a trying task to both teacher and
scholar, for Enna was very wilful, and her
teacher's patience by no means inexhaustible.

"There!" exclaimed Miss Day, shutting the
book and giving it an impatient toss onto the
desk; "go, for I might as well try to teach old
Bruno. I presume he would learn about as
fast."

And Enna walked away with a pout on her
pretty face, muttering that she would "tell
mamma."

"Young ladies and gentlemen," said Miss
Day, looking at her watch, "I shall leave you
to your studies for an hour, at the end of
which time I shall return to hear your recita-
tions, when those who have attended properly
to their duties will be permitted to ride out
with me to visit the fair."

"Oh! that will be jolly!" exclaimed Arthur,
a bright-eyed, mischief -loving boy of ten.

"Hush!" said Miss Day, sternly; "let me
hear no more such exclamations ; and remem-
ber that you will not go unless your lessons
are thoroughly learned. Louise and Lora,"

ELSIE DINSMORE 9

addressing two young girls of the respective
ages of twelve and fourteen, "that French ex-
ercise must be perfect, and your English les-
sons as well. Elsie," to a little girl of eight,
sitting alone at a desk near one of the win-
dows, and bending over a slate with an appear-
ance of great industry, "every figure of that
example must be correct, your geography
lesson recited perfectly, and a page in your
copy-book written without a blot."

"Yes, ma'am," said the child meekly, rais-
ing a pair of large, soft eyes of the darkest
hazel for an instant to her teacher's face, and
then dropping them again upon her slate.

"And see that none of you leave the room
until I return," continued the governess.
"Walter, if you miss one word of that spell-
ing, you will have to stay at home and learn it
over."

"Unless mamma interferes, as she will be
pretty sure to do," muttered Arthur, as the
door closed on Miss Day, and her retreating
footsteps were heard passing down the hall.

For about ten minutes after her departure
all was quiet in the school-room, each seem-
ingly completely absorbed in study. But at
the end of that time Arthur sprang up, and
flinging his book across the room exclaimed,
" There! I know my lesson; and if I didn't, I

10 ELSIE DINSMORE

shouldn't study another bit for old Day, or
Mght either."

"Do foe quiet, Arthur," said his sister
Louise; "I. can't study in such a racket."

Arthur stole on tiptoe across the room, and
coming up behind Elsie, tickled the back of
Mer neck with a feather.

She started, saying in a pleading tone,
"Please, Arthur, don't."

"It pleases me to do," he said, repeating
the experiment.

Elsie changed her position, saying in the
same gentle, persuasive tone, "O Arthur!
please let me alone, or I never shall be able
to do this example."

"What! all this time on one example! you
ought to be ashamed. Why, I could have done
it half a dozen times over."

"I have been over and over it," replied the
little girl in a tone of despondency, "and still
there are two figures that will not come right."

"How do you know they are not right, little
puss?" shaking her curls as he spoke.

"Oh! please, Arthur, don't pull my hair.
I have the answer— that's the way I know."

"Well, then, why don't you just set the
figures down I I would."

"Oh ! no, indeed ; that would not be honest."

ELSIE DINSMORE 11

"Pooh! nonsense! nobody would be the
wiser, nor the poorer."

"No, but it would be just like telling a lie.
But I can never get it right while you are
bothering me so," said Elsie, laying her slate
aside in despair. Then taldng out her geogra-
phy, she began studying most diligently. But
Arthur continued his persecutions — tickling
her, pulling her hair, twitching the book out
of her hand, and talking almost incessantly,
making remarks, and asking questions ; till at
last Elsie said, as if just ready to cry, "In-
deed, Arthur, if you don't let me alone, I shall
never be able to get my lessons."

"Go away then; take your book out on the
veranda, and learn your lessons there," said
Louise. * ' I '11 call you when Miss Day comes. ' ■

"Oh! no, Louise, I cannot do that, because
it would be disobedience," replied Elsie,
taking out her writing materials.

Arthur stood over her criticising every let-
ter she made, and finally jogged her elbow in
such a way as to cause her to drop all the ink
in her pen upon the paper, making quite a
large blot.

"Oh!" cried the little girl, bursting into
tears, "now I shall lose my ride, for Miss Day
will not let me go ; and I was so anxious to see
all those beautiful flowers."

12 ELSIE DINSMORE

Arthur, who was really not very vicious,
felt some compunction when he saw the mis-
chief he had done. "Never mind, Elsie," said
he, * * I can fix it yet. Just let me tear out this
page, and you can begin again on the next, and
111 not bother you. I'll make these two fig-
ures come right, too," he added, taking up her
slate.

" Thank you, Arthur," said the little girl,
smiling through her tears; "you are very
kind, but it would not be honest to do either,
and I had rather stay at home than be deceit-
ful."

"Very well, miss," said he, tossing his head
and walking away, "since you wont let me
help you, it is all your own fault if you have
to stay at home."

"Elsie," exclaimed Louise, "I have no pa-
tience with you! such ridiculous scruples as
you are always raising. I shall not pity you
one bit if you are obliged to stay at home."

Elsie made no reply, but, brushing away a
tear, bent over her writing, taking great pains
with every letter, though saying sadly to her-
self all the time, "It's of no use, for that
great ugly blot will spoil it all."

She finished her page, and, excepting the
unfortunate blot, it all looked very neat in-
deed, showing plainly that it had been written

ELSIE DINSMORE 13r

with great care. She then took up her slate
and patiently went over and over every figure
of the troublesome example, trying to discover
*~!iere her mistake had been. But much time
had been lost through Arthur's teasing, and
her mind was so disturbed by the accident to
her writing that she tried in vain to fix it upon
the business in hand; and before the two
troublesome figures had been made right, the
hour was past, and Miss Day returned.

"Oh!" thought Elsie, "if she will only hear
the others first, I may be able to get this and
the geography ready yet ; and perhaps, if Ar-
thur will be generous enough to tell her about
the blot, she may excuse me for it."

But it was a vain hope. Miss Day had no
sooner seated herself at her desk than she
called, "Elsie, come here and say that lesson;
and bring your copy-book and slate, that I
may examine your work."

Elsie tremblingly obeyed.

The lesson, though a difficult one, was very
tolerably recited; for Elsie, knowing Arthur's
propensity for teasing, had studied it in her
own room before school hours. But Miss Day
handed back the book with a frown, saying,
"I told you the recitation must be perfect, and
it was not."

She was always more severe with Elsie than

14 ELSIE DINSMORE

with any other of her pupils. The reason the
reader will probably be able to define ere long.

"There are two incorrect figures in this ex-
ample/' said she, laying down the slate, after
glancing over its contents. Then taking up
the copy-book, she exclaimed, " Careless, dis-
obedient child! did I not caution you to be
careful not to blot your book! There will be
no ride for you this morning. You have failed
in everything. Go to your seat. Make that
example right, and do the next; learn your
geography lesson over, and write another page
in your copy-book; and, mind, if there is a
blot on it, you will get no dinner.,,

Weeping and sobbing, Elsie took up her
books and obeyed.

During this scene Arthur stood at his desk
pretending to study, but glancing every now
and then at Elsie, with a conscience evidently
ill at ease. She cast an imploring glance at
him, as she returned to her seat ; but he turned
away his head, muttering, "It's all her own
fault, for she wouldn't let me help her."

As he looked up again, he caught his sister
Lora's eyes fixed on him with an expression of
scorn and contempt. He colored violently, and
dropped his eyes upon his book.

"Miss Day," said Lor a, indignantly, "I see
Arthur does not mean to speak, and as I can-

ELSIE DINSMORE 15

not bear to see such injustice, I must tell you
that it is all his fault that Elsie has failed in
her lessons; for she tried her very best, but
he teased her incessantly, and also jogged her
elbow and made her spill the ink on her book ;
and to her credit she was too honorable to tear
out the leaf from her copy-book or to let him
make her example right ; both of which he very
generously proposed doing after causing all
the mischief."

"Is this so, Arthur?" asked Miss Bay,
angrily.

The boy hung his head, but made no reply.

"Very well, then," said Miss Day, "you too
must stay at home."

"Surely," said Lor a, in surprise, "you will
not keep Elsie, since I have shown you that she
was not to blame."

"Miss Lora," replied her teacher, haughtily,
"I wish you to understand that I am not to
be dictated to by my pupils."

Lora bit her lip, but said nothing, and Miss
Day went on hearing the lessons without fur-
ther remark.

In the meantime the little Elsie sat at her
desk, striving to conquer the feelings of anger
and indignation that were swelling in her
breast; for Elsie, though she possessed much

16 ELSIE DINSMORE

of "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit,"
was not yet perfect, and often had a fierce con-
test with her naturally quick temper. Yet it
was seldom, very seldom, that word or tone or
look betrayed the existence of such feelings;
and it was a common remark in the family
that Elsie had no spirit.

The recitations were scarcely finished when
the door opened and a lady entered dressed
for a ride.

"Not through yet, Miss Day?" she asked.

"Yes, madam, we are just done," replied
the teacher, closing the French grammar and
handing it to Louise.

"Well, I hope your pupils have all done
their duty this morning, and are ready
to accompany us to the fair," said Mrs.
Dinsmore. "But what is the matter with
Elsie f"

"She has failed in all her exercises, and
therefore has been told that she must remain
at home," replied Miss Day, with heightened
color and in a tone of anger; "and as Miss
Lora tells me that Master Arthur was partly
the cause, I have forbidden him also to accom-
pany us."

"Excuse me, Miss Day, for correcting you,"
said Lora, a little indignantly; "but I did not

ELSIE DINSMORE 17

say partly, for I am sure it was entirely Ms
fault."

"Hush, hush, Lora," said her mother, a
little impatiently; "how can you be sure of
any such thing % Miss Bay, I must beg of you
to excuse Arthur this once, for I have quite
set my heart on taking him along. He is fond
of mischief, I know, but he is only a child, and
you must not be too hard upon him."

"Very well, madam," replied the governess
stiffly, "you have of course the best right to
control your own children."

Mrs. Dinsmore turned to leave the room.

"Mamma," asked Lora, "is not Elsie to be
allowed to go, too?"

"Elsie is not my child, and I have nothing
to say about it. Miss Day, who knows all the
circumstances, is much better able than I to
judge whether or no she is deserving of pun-
ishment," replied Mrs. Dinsmore, sailing out
of the room.

"You will let her go, Miss Day?" said Lora,
inquiringly.

"Miss Lora," replied Miss Day, angrily, "I
have already told you I was not to be dictated
to. I have said Elsie must remain at home,
and I shall not break my word."

"Such injustice!" muttered Lora, turning
away.

18 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Lora," said Louise, impatiently, "why
need you concern yourself with Elsie's affairs %
For my part, I nave no pity for her, so full as
she is of nonsensical scruples.' '

Miss Day crossed the room to where Elsie
was sitting leaning her head upon the desk,
struggling hard to keep down the feelings of
anger and indignation aroused by the unjust
treatment she had received.

"Did I not order you to learn that lesson
over?" said the governess, "and why are you
sitting here idling?"

Elsie dared not speak lest her anger should
show itself in words; so merely raised her
head, and hastily "brushing away her tears,
opened the book. But Miss Day, who was irri-
tated by Mrs. Dinsmore's interference, and
also by the consciousness that she was acting
unjustly, seemed determined to vent her dis-
pleasure upon her innocent victim.

"Why do you not speak?" she exclaimed,
seizing Elsie by the arm and shaking her vio-
lently. "Answer me this instant! Why have
you been idling all the morning?"

"I have not," replied the child hastily, stung
to the quick by her unjust violence. "I have
tried hard to do my duty, and you are punish-
ing me when I don't deserve it at all."

"How dare you? There ! take that for your

ELSIE DINSMORE 19

impertinence, " said Miss Day, giving her a
box on the ear.

Elsie was about to make a still more angry-
reply ; but she restrained herself, and turning
to her book, tried to study, though the hot,
blinding tears came so thick and fast that she
could not see a letter.

"De carriage am waiting, ladies, an' missus
in a hurry," said a servant, opening the door;
and Miss Day hastily quitted the room, fol-
lowed by Louise and Lora ; and Elsie was left
alone.

She laid down the geography, and opening
her desk, took out a small pocket Bible, which
bore the marks of frequent use. She turned
over the leaves as though seeking for some par-
ticular passage; at length she found it, and
wiping away the blinding tears, she read these
words in a low, murmuring tone :

"For this is thankworthy, if a man for con-
science toward God endure grief, suffering
wrongfully. For what glory is it if, when ye
be buffetted for your faults, ye shall take it
patiently ? but if when ye do well, and suffer
for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable
with God. For even hereunto were ye called ;
because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us
an example that ye should follow His steps."

"Oh! I have not done it. I did not take it

20 ELSIE DINSMORE

patiently. I am afraid I am not following in
His steps," she cried, bursting into an agony
of tears and sobs.

"My dear little girl, what is the matter ?"
asked a kind voice ; and a soft hand was gently
lajd on her shoulder.

The child looked up hastily. "O Miss Alli-
son!" she said, "is it you? I thought I was
quite alone."

"And so you were, my dear, until this mo-
ment," replied the lady, drawing up a chair,
and sitting down close beside her. "I was on
the veranda, and hearing sobs, came in to see
if I could be of any assistance. You look very
much distressed ; will you not tell me the cause
of your sorrow?"

Elsie answered only by a fresh burst of
tears.

"They have all gone to the fair and left you
at home alone; perhaps to learn a lesson you
have failed in reciting?" said the lady, in-
quiringly.

"Yes, ma'am," said the child; "but that is
not the worst"; and her tears fell faster, as
she laid the little Bible on the desk, and
pointed with her finger to the words she had
been reading. "Oh!" she sobbed, "I— I did
not do it ; I did not bear it patiently. I was
treated unjustly, and punished when I was

ELSIE DINSMORE 21

not to blame, and I grew angry. Oh! I'm
afraid I shall never be like Jesus! never,
never."

The child's distress seemed very great, and
Miss Allison was extremely surprised. She
was a visitor who had been in the house only
a few days, and, herself a devoted Christian,
had been greatly pained by the utter disregard
of the family in which she was sojourning for
the teachings of God's word. Rose Allison
was from the North, and Mr. Dinsmore, the
proprietor of Roselands, was an old friend of
her father, to whom he had been paying a visit,
and finding Rose in delicate health, he had
prevailed upon her parents to allow her to
spend the winter months with his family in the
more congenial clime of their Southern home.

"My poor child," she said, passing her arm
around the little one's waist, "my poor little
Elsie ! that is your name, is it not?"

"Yes, ma'am; Elsie Dinsmore," replied the
little girl.

"Well, Elsie, let me read you another verse
from this blessed book. Here it is : 4 The blood
of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth us from all
sin.? And here again: 'If any man sin, we
have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ
the righteous.' Dear Elsie, 'if we confess our

22 ELSIE DINSMORE

sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our
sins.' "

"Yes, ma'am," said the child; "I have
asked Him to forgive me, and I know He has;
but I am so sorry, oh! so sorry that I have
grieved and displeased Him ; for, O Miss Alli-
son ! I do love Jesus, and want to be like Him
always."

"Yes, dear child, we must grieve for our
„uns when we remember that they helped to
slay the Lord. But I am very, very glad to
learn that you love Jesus, and are striving to
do His will. I love Him too, and we will love
one another; for you know He says, 'By this
shall men know that ye are my disciples, if ye
have love one to another,' " said Miss Allison,
stroking the little girl's hair, and kissing her
tenderly.

"Will you love me? Oh! how glad I am!"
exclaimed the child joyfully; "I have nobody
to love me but poor old mammy."

"And who is mammy?" asked the lady.

"My dear old nurse, who has always taken
care of me. Have you not seen her, ma'am?"

"Perhaps I may. I have seen a number of
nice old colored women about here since I
came. But, Elsie, will you tell me who taught
you about Jesus, and how long you have loved
Him?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 23

"Ever since I can remember," replied the
little girl earnestly; "and it was dear old
mammy who first told me how He suffered and
died on the cross for us. ' ' Her eyes filled with
tears and her voice quivered with emotion.
"She used to talk to me about it just as soon
as I could understand anything," she con-
tinued; "and then she would tell me that my
own dear mamma loved Jesus, and had gone
to be with Him in heaven ; and how, when she
was dying, she put me — a little, wee baby, I
was then not quite a week old — into her arms,
and said, ' Mammy, take my dear little baby
and love her, and take care of her just as you
did of me; and O Mamnry! be sure that you
teach her to love God.' Would you like to see
my mamma, Miss Allison?"

And as she spoke she drew from her bosom
a miniature set in gold and diamonds, which
she wore suspended by a gold chain around
her neck, and put it in Rose's hand.

It was the likeness of a young and blooming
girl, not more than fifteen or sixteen years of
age. She was very beautiful, with a sweet,
gentle, winning countenance, the same soft
hazel eyes and golden brown curls that the
little Elsie possessed; the same regular fea-
tures, pure complexion, and sweet smile.

Miss Allison gazed at it a moment in silent

24 ELSIE DINSMORE

admiration; then, turning from it to the child
with a puzzled expression, she said: "But,
Elsie, I do not understand ; are you not sister
to Enna and the rest, and is not Mrs. Dins-
more own mother to them all?"

"Yes, ma'am, to all of them, hut not to me
or my papa. Their brother Horace is my
papa, and so they are all my aunts and uncles."

"Indeed," said the lady, musingly; "I
thought you looked very unlike the rest. And
your papa is away, is he not, Elsie?"

■ * Yes, ma 'am ; he is in Europe. He has been
away almost ever since I was born, and I have
never seen him. Oh ; how I do wish he would
come home! how I long to see him! Do you
think he would love me, Miss Allison? Do
you think he would take me on his knee and
pet me, as grandpa does Enna?"

"I should think he would, dear; I don't
know how he could help loving his own dear
little girl," said the lady, again kissing the
little rosy cheek. "But now," she added,
rising, "I must go away and let you learn your
lesson."

Then taking up the little Bible, and turning
over the leaves, she asked: "Would you like
to come to my room sometimes in the mornings
and evenings, and read this book with me,
Elsie?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 25

"Oh! yes, ma'am, dearly!" exclaimed the
child, her eyes sparkling with pleasure.

"Come then this evening, if you like; and
now good-bye for the present." And press-
ing another kiss on the child's cheek, she left
her and went back to her own room, where she
found her friend Adelaide Dinsmore, a young
lady near her own age, and the eldest daugh-
ter of the family. Adelaide was seated on a
sofa, busily employed with some fancy work.

"You see, I am making myself quite at
home," she said, looking up as Rose entered,
"I cannot imagine where you have been all
this time."

"Can you not*? In the school-room, talking
with little Elsie. Do you know, Adelaide, I
thought she was your sister; but she tells me
not."

"No, she is Horace's child. I supposed you
knew ; but if you do not, I may just as well tell
you the whole story. Horace was a very wild
boy, petted and spoiled, and always used to
having his own way ; and when he was about
seventeen — quite a forward youth he was, too
— he must needs go to New Orleans to spend
some months with a schoolmate ; and there he
met, and fell desperately in love with, a very
beautiful girl a year or two younger than him-
self, an orphan and very wealthy. Fearing

26 ELSIE DINSMORE

that objections would be made on the score of
their youth, etc., etc., he persuaded her to con-
sent to a private marriage, and they had been
man and wife for some months before either
her friends or his suspected it.

"Well, when it came at last to papa's ears,
he was very angry, both on account of their
extreme youth and because, as Elsie Grayson's
father had made all his money by trade, he did
not consider her quite my brother's equal; so
he called Horace home and sent him North to
college. Then he studied law, and since that
he has been traveling in foreign lands. But to
return to his wife. It seems that her guardian
was quite as much opposed to the match as
papa, and the poor girl was made to believe
that she should never see her husband again.
All their letters were intercepted, and finally
she was told that he was dead; so, as Aunt
Chloe says, 'she grew thin and pale, and weak
and melancholy,' and while the little Elsie was
not quite a week old, she died. We never saw
her; she died in her guardian's house, and
there the little Elsie stayed in charge of Aunt
Chloe, who was an old servant in the family,
and had nursed her mother before her, and of
the housekeeper, Mrs. Murray, a pious old
Scotch woman, until about four years ago,
when her guardian's death broke up the fam-

ELSIE DINSMORE 27

ily, and then they came to us. Horace never
comes home, and does not seem to care for his
child, for he never mentions her in his letters,
except when it is necessary in the way of
business.' '

"She is a dear little thing," said Rose. "I
am sure he could not help loving her, if he
could only see her."

"Oh! yes, she is well enough, and I often
feel sorry for the lonely little thing, but the
truth is, I believe we are a little jealous of her ;
she is so extremely beautiful, and heiress to
such an immense fortune. Mamma often frets,
and says that one of these days she will quite
eclipse her younger daughters."

"But then," said Rose, "she is almost as
near— her own grand-daughter."

"No, she is not so very near," replied Ade-
laide, "for Horace is not mamma's son. He
was seven or eight years old when she married
papa, and I think she was never particularly
fond of him."

"Ah! yes," thought Rose, "that explains it.
Poor little Elsie! No wonder you pine for
your father's love, and grieve over the loss of
the mother you never knew!"

"She is an odd child," said Adelaide; "I
clon't understand her; she is so meek and pa-
tient she will fairly let you trample upon her.

28 ELSIE DINSMORE

It provokes papa. He says she is no Dins-
more, or she would know how to stand up for
her own rights; and yet she has a temper, I
know, for once in a great while it shows itself
for an instant— only an instant, though, and at
very long intervals — and then she grieves over
it for days, as though she had committed some
great crime ; while the rest of us think nothing
of getting angry half a dozen times in a day.
And then she is forever poring over that little
Bible of hers ; what she sees so attractive in it
I'm sure I cannot tell, for I must say I find it
the dullest of dull books."

"Do you?" said Bose ; "how strange ! I had
rather give up all other books than that one.
'Thy testimonies have I taken as a heritage
forever, for they are the rejoicing of my heart.'
'How sweet are thy words unto my taste!
Yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth.' "

"Do you really love it so, Rose?" asked
Adelaide, lifting her eyes to her friend's face
with an expression of astonishment; "do tell
me why."

"For its exceeding great and precious prom-
ises, Adelaide; for its holy teachings, for its
offers of peace and pardon and eternal life.
I am a sinner, Adelaide, lost, ruined, helpless,
hopeless, and the Bible brings me the glad
news of salvation offered as a free, unmerited

ELSIE DINSMORE 29

gift; it tells me the Jesus died to save sinners
— just such sinners as I. I find that I have a
heart deceitful above all things and desperate-
ly wicked, and the blessed Bible tells me how
that heart can be renewed, and where I can ob-
tain that holiness without which no man shall
see the Lord. I find myself utterly unable to
keep God's holy law, and it tells me of One who
has kept it for me. I find that I deserve the
wrath and curse of a justly offended God, and
it tells me of Him who was made a curse for
me. I find that all my righteousnesses are as
filthy rags, and it offers me the beautiful, spot-
less robe of Christ's perfect righteousness.
Yes, it tells me that God can be just, and the
justifier of him who believes in Jesus."

Rose spoke these words with deep emotion,
then suddenly clasping her hands and raising
her eyes, she exclaimed, " ' Thanks be unto
God for His unspeakable gift!' "

For a moment there was silence. Then Ade-
laide spoke:

"Kose," said she, "you talk as if you were
a great sinner; but I don't believe it; it is
only your humility that makes you think so.
Wny, what have you ever done ? Had you been
a thief, a murderer, or guilty of any other
great crime, I could see the propriety of your
using such language with regard to yourself;

30 ELSIE DINSMORE

but for a refined, intelligent, amiable young
lady— excuse me for saying it, dear Rose, but
such language seems to me simply absurd.' '

"Man looketb upon the outward appearance,
but the Lord pondereth the heart," said Rose,
gently. "No, dear Adelaide, you are mis-
taken ; for I can truly say 'mine iniquities have
gone over my head as a cloud, and my trans-
gressions as a thick cloud.' Every duty has
been stained with sin, every motive impure,
every thought unholy. From my earliest ex-
istence, God has required the undivided love
of my whole heart, soul, strength, and mind;
and so far from yielding it, I lived at enmity
with Him, and rebellion against His govern-
ment, until within the last two years. For
seventeen years He has showered blessings
upon me, giving me life, health, strength,
friends, and all that was necessary for happi-
ness ; and for fifteen of those years I returned
Him nothing but ingratitude and rebellion.
For fifteen years I rejected His offers of par-
don and reconciliation, turned my back upon
the Saviour of sinners, and resisted all the
strivings of God's Holy Spirit, and will you
say that I am not a great sinner?" Her voice
quivered, and her eyes were full of tears.

"Dear Rose," said Adelaide, putting her
arm around her friend and kissing her cheek

ELSIE DINSMORE 31

affectionately, " don't think of these things;
religion is too gloomy for one so young as
you."

"Gloomy, dear Adelaide!" replied Eose,
returning the embrace; "I never knew what
true happiness was until I found Jesus. My
sins often made me sad, but religion, never.

" 'Oft I walk beneath the cloud,
Dark as midnight's gloomy shroud ;
But when fear is at the height,
Jesus comes, and all is light/ "

CHAPTER II.

"Thy injuries would teach patience to blaspheme,
Yet still thou art a dove."

— Beaumont's Double Marriage'

"When forced to part from those we love,

Though sure to meet tomorrow ;
We yet a kind of anguish prove

And feel a touch of sorrow.
But oh ! what words can paint the fears

When from these friends we sever,
Perhaps to part for months — for years —

Perhaps to part forever."

—Anon

When Miss Allison had gone, and Elsie found
herself once more quite alone, she rose from
her chair, and kneeling down with the open
Bible before her, she poured out her story of
sins and sorrows, in simple, child-like words,
into the ears of the dear Saviour whom she
loved so well; confessing that when she had
done well and suffered for it, she had not taken
it patiently, and earnestly pleading that she
might be made like unto the meek and lowly
Jesus. Low sobs burst from her burdened
heart, and the tears of penitence fell upon the

33

34 ELSIE DINSMORE

pages of the holy book. But when she rose
from her knees, her load of sin and sorrow was
all gone, and her heart made light and happy
with a sweet sense of peace and pardon. Once
again, as often before, the little Elsie was
made to experience the blessedness of "the
man whose transgression is forgiven, whose
sin is covered."

She now set to work diligently at her studies,
and ere the party returned was quite pre-
pared to meet Miss Day, having attended faith-
fully to all she had required of her. The les-
son was recited without the smallest mistake,
every figure of the examples worked out cor-
rectly, and the page of the copy-book neatly
and carefully written.

Miss Day had been in a very captious mood
all day, and seemed really provoked that Elsie
had not given her the smallest excuse for fault-
finding. Handing the book back to her, she
said, very coldly, "I see you can do your
duties well enough when you choose."

Elsie felt keenly the injustice of the remark,
and longed to say that she had tried quite as
earnestly in the morning; but she resolutely
crushed down the indignant feeling, and call-
ing to mind the rash words that had cost her
so many repentant tears, she replied meekly,
"I am sorry I did not succeed better this

ELSIE DINSMORE 35

morning, Miss Day, though I did really try;
and I am still more sorry for the saucy answer
I gave you; and I ask your pardon for it."

"You ought to be sorry," replied Miss Day,
severely, "and I hope you are; for it was a
very impertinent speech indeed, and deserving
of a much more severe punishment than you
received. Now go, and never let me hear any-
thing of the kind from you again."

Poor little Elsie's eyes filled with tears at
these ungracious words, accompanied by a still
more ungracious manner ; but she turned away
without a word, and placing her books and
slate carefully in her desk, left the room.

Rose Allison was sitting alone in her room
that evening, thinking of her far-distant home,
when hearing a gentle rap at her door, she
rose and opened it to find Elsie standing there
with her Bible in her hand.

"Come in, darling/' she said, stooping to
give the little one a kiss; "I am very glad to
see you."

"I may stay with you for half an hour,
Miss Allison, if you like," said the child, seat-
ing herself on the low ottoman pointed out by
Rose, "and then mammy is coming to put me
to bed."

"It will be a very pleasant half -hour to

36 ELSIE DINSMORE

both of us, I hope," replied Rose, opening her
Bible.

They read a chapter together — Rose now
and then pausing to make a few explana-
tions^— and then kneeling down, she offered up
a prayer for the teachings of the Spirit, and
for God's blessing on themselves and all their
dear ones.

"Dear little Elsie," she said, folding the
child in her arms, when they had risen from
their knees, "how I love you already, and how
very glad I am to find that there is one in this
house beside myself who loves Jesus, and loves
to study His word, and to call upon His name. "

"Yes, dear Miss Allison; and there is more
than one, for mammy loves Him, too, very
dearly," replied the little girl, earnestly.

"Does she, darling? Then I must love her,
too, for I cannot help loving all who love my
Saviour."

Then Rose sat down, and drawing the little
girl to a seat on her knee, they talked sweetly
together of the race they were running, and
the prize they hoped to obtain at the end of
it; of the battle they were fighting, and the
invisible foes with whom they were called to
struggle — the armor that had been provided,
and of Him who had promised to be the Cap-
tain of their salvation, and to bring them on*

ELSIE DINSMORE 37

more than conquerors. They were pilgrims in
the same straight and narrow way, and it was
very pleasant thus to walk a little while
together. "Then they that feared the Lord
spake often one to another; and the Lord
hearkened and heard it ; and a book of remem-
brance was written before Him for them that
feared the Lord, and that thought upon His
name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord
of hosts, in that day when I make up my
jewels; and I will spare them, as a man
spareth his own son that serveth him."

"That is mammy coming for me," said
Elsie, as a low knock was heard at the door.

"Come in," said Rose, and the door opened,
and a very nice colored woman of middle age,
looking beautifully neat in her snow-white
apron and turban, entered with a low courtesy,
asking, "Is my little missus ready for bed
now?"

"Yes," said Elsie, jumping off Rose's lap;
"but come here, mammy;! want to introduce
you to Miss Allison."

"How do you do, Aunt Chloe'? I am very
glad to know you, since Elsie tells me you are
a servant of the same blessed Master whom I
love and try to serve," said Rose, putting her
small white hand cordially into Chloe's dusky
one.

38 ELSIE DINSMORE

" 'Deed I liope I is, missus," replied Chloe,
pressing it fervently in both of hers. "I'se
only a poor old black sinner, but de good Lord
Jesus, He loves me jes' de same as if I was
white, an' I love Him an' all His chillen with
all my heart."

"Yes, Aunt Chloe," said Rose, "He is our
peace, and hath made both one, and hath
broken down the middle wall of partition be-
tween us; so that we are no more strangers
and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the
saints and of the household of God; and are
built upon the foundation of the apostles and
prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief
corner-stone."

"Yes, missus, dat's it for sure; ole Chloe
knows dat's in de Bible; an' if we be built on
dat bressed corner-stone, we's safe ebery one;
I'se heard it many's de time, an' it fills dis ole
heart with joy an' peace in believing," she
exclaimed, raising her tearful eyes and clasp-
ing her hands. "But good-night, missus; I
must put my chile to bed," she added, taking
Elsie's hand.

"Good-night, Aunt Chloe; come in again,"
said Rose. "And good-night to you, too, dear
little Elsie," folding the little girl again in her
arms.

"Ain't dat a bressed young lady, darlin'?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 39

exclaimed Chloe, earnestly, as she began the
business of preparing her young charge for
bed.

"O mammy, I love her so much! she's so
good and kind," replied the child, "and she
loves Jesus, and loves to talk about Him."

"She reminds me of your dear mamma, Miss
Elsie, but she's not so handsome," replied the
nurse, with a tear in her eye ; "ole Chloe tinks
dere's nebber any lady so beautiful as her
dear young missus was."

Elsie drew out the miniature and kissed it,
murmuring, "Dear, darling mamma!" then
put it back in her bosom again, for she always
wore it day and night. She was standing in
her white night-dress, the tiny white feet just
peeping from under it, while Chloe brushed
back her curls and put on her night-cap.

"Dere now, darlin', you's ready for bed,"
she exclaimed, giving the child a hug and a
kiss.

"No, mammy, not quite," replied the little
girl, and gliding away to the side of the bed,
she knelt down and offered up her evening
prayer. Then, coming back to the toilet
table, she opened her little Bible, saying,
"Now, mammy, I will read you a chapter
while you are getting ready for bed."

The room was large and airy, and Aunt

40 ELSIE DINSMORE

Chloe, who was never willing to leave her
nursling, but watched over her night and day
with the most devoted affection, slept in a eot
bed in one corner.

"Tank you, my dear young missus, you's
bery good," she said, beginning the prepara-
tions for the night by taking off her turban
and replacing it by a thick night-cap.

When the chapter was finished Elsie got
into bed, saying, "Now, mammy, you may put
out the light as soon as you please ; and be sure
to call me early in the morning, for I have a
lesson to learn before breakfast."

"That I will, darlin'," replied the old
woman, spreading the cover carefully over
her. "Good-night, my pet, your ole mammy
hopes her chile will have pleasant dreams."

Rose Allison was an early riser, and as the
breakfast hour at Roselands was eight o'clock,
she always had an hour or two for reading
before it was time to join the family circle.
She had asked Elsie to come to her at half-
past seven, and punctually at the hour the lit-
tle girl's gentle rap was heard at her door.

"Come in," said Rose, and Elsie entered,
looking as bright and fresh and rosy as the
morning. She had her little Bible under her
arm and a bouquet of fresh flowers in her
hand. "Good-morning, dear Miss Allison,"

ELSIE DINSMORE 41

she said, dropping a graceful courtesy as she
presented it. "I have come to read, and I
have just been out to gather these for you, be-
cause I know you love flowers."

"Thank you, darling, they are very lovely,"
said Rose, accepting the gift and bestowing a
caress upon the giver. "You are quite punc-
tual," she added, "and now we can have our
half -hour together before breakfast."

The time was spent profitably and pleas-
antly, and passed so quickly that both were
surprised when the breakfast bell rang.

Miss Allison spent the whole fall and win-
ter at Roselands ; and it was very seldom dur-
ing all that time that she and Elsie failed to
have their morning and evening reading and
prayer together. Rose was often made to won-
der at the depth of the little girl's piety and
the knowledge of divine things she possessed.
But Elsie had the best of teaching. Chloe,
though entirely uneducated, was a simple-
minded, earnest Christian, and with a heart
full of love to Jesus, had, as we have seen,
early endeavored to lead the little one to Him,
and Mrs. Murray — the housekeeper whom
Adelaide had mentioned, and who had assisted
Chloe in the care of the child from the time of
her birth until a few months before Rose's
coming, when she had suddenly been sum-

42 ELSIE DINSMORE

moned liome to Scotland, had proved a very
faithful friend. She was an intelligent woman
and devotedly pious, and had carefully in-
structed this lonely little one, for whom she felt
almost a parent's affection, and her efforts to
bring her to a saving knowledge of Christ had
been signally owned and blessed of God and in
answer to her earnest prayers, the Holy Spirit
had vouchsafed His teachings, without which
all human instruction must ever be in vain.
And young as Elsie was, she had already a
very lovely and well-developed Christian char-
acter. Though not a remarkably precocious
child in other respects, she seemed to have very
clear and correct views on almost every subject
connected with her duty to God and her neigh-
bor ; was very truthful both in word and deed,
very strict in her observance of the Sabbath —
though the rest of the family were by no means
particular in that respect — very diligent in her
studies, respectful to superiors, and kind to
inferiors and equals; and she was gentle,
sweet-tempered, patient, and forgiving to a
remarkable degree. Rose became strongly at-
tached to her, and the little girl fully returned
her affection.

Elsie was very sensitive and affectionate,
and felt keenly the want of sympathy and love,
•Por which, at the time of Rose's coming, she

ELSIE DINSMORE 43

had no one to look to but poor old Chloe, who
loved her with all her heart.

It is true, Adelaide sometimes treated her
almost affectionately, and Lora, who had a
very strong sense of justice, occasionally inter-
fered and took her part when she was very
unjustly accused, but no one seemed really
to care for her, and she often felt sad and
lonely. Mr. Dinsmore, though her own grand-
father, treated her with entire neglect, seemed
to have not the slightest affection for her,
and usually spoke of her as "old Grayson's
grandchild." Mrs. Dinsmore really disliked
her, because she looked upon her as the child
of a stepson for whom she had never felt any
affection, and also as the future rival of her
own children; while the governess and the
younger members of the family, following the
example of their elders, treated her with neg-
lect, and occasionally even with abuse. Miss
Day, knowing that she was in no danger of
incurring the displeasure of her superiors by
so doing, vented upon her all the spite she
dared not show to her other pupils ; and con-
tinually she was made to give up her toys and
pleasures to Enna, and even sometimes to Ar-
thur and Walter. It often cost her a struggle,
and had she possessed less of the ornament of

44 ELSIE DINSMORE

a meek and quiet spirit, her life had been
wretched indeed.

But in spite of all her trials and vexations,
little Elsie was the happiest person in the
family; for she had in her heart that peace
which the world can neither give nor take
away; that joy which the Saviour gives to His
own, and no man taketh from them. She con-
stantly carried all her sorrows and troubles to
Him, and the coldness and neglect of others
seemed but to drive her nearer to that
Heavenly Friend, until she felt that while pos-
sessed of His love, she could not be unhappy,
though treated with scorn and abuse by all the
world.

"The good are better made by ill,
As odors crushed are sweeter still."

And even so it seemed to be with little Elsie;
her trials seemed to have only the effect of
purifying and making more lovely her
naturally amiable character.

Elsie talked much and thought more of her
absent and unknown father, and longed with
an intensity of desire for his return home. It
was her dream, by day and by night, that he
had come, that he had taken her to his heart,
calling her "his own darling child, his precious
little Elsie," for such were the loving epithets
she often heard lavished upon Enna, and

ELSIE DINSMORE 45

whieli she longed to hear addressed to herself.
But from month to month, and year to year,
that longed-for return had been delayed until
the little heart had grown sick with hope de-
ferred, and was often weary with its almost
hopeless waiting. But to return.

" Elsie,' ' said Adelaide, as Miss Allison and
the little girl entered the breakfast-room on
the morning after Elsie's disappointment,
"the fair is not over yet, and Miss Allison and
I are going to ride out there this afternoon;
so, if you are a good girl in school, you may go
with us."

"Oh! thank you, dear Aunt Adelaide," ex-
claimed the little girl, clapping her hands with
delight; "how kind you are! and I shall be so
glad."

Miss Day frowned, and looked as if she
wanted to reprove her for her noisy demon-
strations of delight, but, standing somewhat
in awe of Adelaide, said nothing.

But Elsie suddenly relapsed into silence, for
at that moment Mrs. Dinsmore entered the
room, and it was seldom that she could utter
a word in her presence without being reproved
and told that "children should be seen and not
heard," though her own were allowed to talk
as much as they pleased.

Miss Day seemed cross, Mrs. Dinsmore was

46 ELSIE DINSMORE

moody and taciturn, complaining of headache,
and Mr. Dinsmore occupied with the morning
paper; and so the meal passed oh6 in almost
unbroken silence. Elsie was glad when it was
over, and hastening to the school-room, she
began her tasks without waiting for the arrival
of the regular hour for study.

She had the room entirely to herself, and
had been busily engaged for half an hour in
working out her examples, when the opening
of the door caused her to look up, and, to her
dismay, Arthur entered. He did not, however,
as she feared, begin his customary course of
teasing and tormenting, but seated himself at
his desk, leaning his head upon his hand in
an attitude of dejection.

Elsie wondered what ailed him, his conduct
was so unusual, and she could not help every
now and then sending an inquiring glanee
toward him, and at length she asked, "What is
the matter, Arthur?"

"Nothing much," said he, gruffly, turning
Ms back to her.

Thus repulsed, she said no more, but gave
her undivided attention to her employment;
and so diligent was she that Miss Day had no
excuse whatever for fault-finding this morn-
ing. Her tasks were all completed within the
required time, and she enjoyed her promised

ELSIE DINSMORE 47

ride with her aunt and Miss Allison, and her
visit to the fair, very much indeed.

It was still early when they returned ; and,
finding that she had nearly an hour to dispose
of before tea-time, Elsie thought she would
finish a drawing which she had left in her desk
in the school-room. While searching for it
and her pencil, she heard Lora's and Arthur's
voices on the veranda.

She did not notice what they were saying
until her own name struck her ear.

" Elsie is the only person," Lora was saying,
"who can, and probably will, help you ; for she
has plenty of money, and she is so kind and
generous; but, if I' were you, I should be
ashamed to ask her, after the way you acted
toward her."

"I wish I hadn't teased her so yesterday,"
replied Arthur, disconsolately, "but it's such
fun, I can't help it sometimes."

"Well, I know I wouldn't ask a favor of
anybody I had treated so," said Lora, walking
away.

Elsie sat still a few moments, working at her
drawing and wondering all the time what it
was Arthur wanted, and thinking how glad she
would be of an opportunity of returning him
good for evil. She did not like, though, to seek
his confidence, but presently hearing him

48 ELSIE DINSMORE

heave a deep sigh, she rose and went out on the
veranda.

He was leaning on the railing in an attitude
of dejection, his head bent down and his eyes
fixed on the floor. She went up to him, and
laying her hand softly on his shoulder, said,
in the sweet, gentle tones natural to her:
"What ails you, Arthur? Can I do anything
for you? I will, be very glad if I can."

"No — yes — " he answered, hesitatingly; "I
wouldn't like to ask you after — after — "

"Oh! never mind," said Elsie, quickly; "I
do not care anything about that now. I had
the ride to-day, and that was better still, be-
cause I went with Aunt Adelaide and Miss
Allison. Tell me what you want."

Thus encouraged, Arthur replied: "I saw
a beautiful little ship yesterday when I was in
the eity; it was only five dollars, and I've set
my heart on having it, but my poeket money's
all gone, and papa won't give me a cent until
next month's allowance is due; and by that
time the ship will be gone, for it's such a beauty
somebody 11 be sure to buy it."

"Won't your mamma buy it for you?"
asked Elsie.

"No, she says she hasn't the money to spare
just now. You know, it's near the end of the
month, and they've all spent their allowances

ELSIE DINSMORE 49

except Louise, and she says she'll not lend her
money to such a spendthrift as I am.,,

Elsie drew out her purse, and seemed just
about to put it into his hand ; but, apparently
changing her mind, she hesitated a moment,
and then returning it to her pocket, said, with
a half smile : "I don't know, Arthur ; &ve dol-
lars is a good deal for a little girl like me to
lay out at once. I must think about it a little. ' '

"I don't ask you to give it," he replied,
scornfully; "111 pay it back in two weeks."

"Well, I will see by tomorrow morning,"
she said, darting away, while he sent an
angry glance after her, muttering the word
"stingy" between his teeth.

Elsie ran down to the kitchen, asking of one
and another of the servants as she passed,
"Where's Pompey?" The last time she put
the question to Phoebe, the cook, but was
answered by Pompey himself. "Here am
Pomp, Miss Elsie ; what does little missy want
wid dis chile?"

"Are you going to the city to-night, Pom-
pey?"

"Yes, Miss Elsie, I'se got some arrants to do
for missus an' de family in ginral, an' I been
gwine start in 'bout ten minutes. Little missy
wants sumpin', eh?"

Elsie motioned to him to come close to her,

50 ELSIE DINSMORE

and then putting her purse into his hands, she
told him in a whisper of Arthur's wish, and
directed him to purchase the coveted toy, and,
bring it to her, if possible, without letting any-
one else know anything about it. "And keep
half a dollar for yourself, Pompey, to pay you
for your trouble," she added in conclusion.

"Tank you, little missy," he replied, with a
broad grin of satisfaction; "dat be bery good
pay, and Pomp am de man to do dis business
up for you 'bout right."

The tea-bell rang, and Elsie hastened away
to answer the summons. She looked across the
table at Arthur with a pleasant smile on her
countenance, but he averted his eyes with an
angry scowl ; and with a slight sigh she turned
away her head, and did not look at him again
during the meal.

Pompey executed his commission faithfully ;
and when Elsie returned to her own room after
her evening hour with Miss Rose, Chloe
pointed out the little ship standing on the
mantel.

"Oh! it's a little beauty," cried Elsie, clap-
ping her hands and dancing up and down with
delight; "how Arthur will be pleased! Now,
mammy, can you take it to the school-room,
and put it on Master Arthur's desk, without
anybody seeing you'?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 51

"Ole Chloe'll try, darlin'," she said, taking
it iu her hands.

"Oh! wait one moment," exclaimed Elsie,
and taking a card, she wrote on its, "A present
to Arthur, from his niece Elsie," Then lay-
ing it on the deck of the little vessel, she said :
"There, mammy, I think that will do; but
please look out first to see whether anyone is
in the hall."

"Coast all clear, darlin'," replied Chloe,
after a careful survey; "all de chillens am in
bed before dis time, I spec." And taking a
candle in one hand and the little ship in the
other, she started for the school-room, She
soon returned with a broad grin of satisfaction
on her black face, saying, "All right, darling I
put him on Massa Arthur's desk, an? nobody
de wiser."

So Elsie went to bed very happy in the
thought of the pleasure Arthur would have in
receiving her present.

She was hurrying down to the breakfast-
room the next morning, a little in advance of
Miss Rose, who had stopped to speak to Ade-
laide, when Arthur came running up behind
her, having just come in by a side door from
the garden, and seizing her round the waist, he
said: "Thank you, Elsie; you're a real good
girl! She sails beautifully. I've been trying

52 ELSIE DINSMORE

her on the pond. But it mustn't be a present;
you must let me pay you back when I get my
allowance."

"Oh! no, Arthur, that would spoil it all,"
she answered quickly; "you are entirely wel-
come, and you know my allowance is so large
that half the time I have more money than I
know how to spend."

"I should like to see the time that would
be the ease with me," said he, laughing. Then
in a lower tone: "Elsie, I'm sorry I teased
you so. I'll not do it again soon."

Elsie answered him with a grateful look,
as she stepped past him and quietly took her
place at the table.

Arthur kept his word, and for many weeks
entirely refrained from teasing Elsie, and
while freed from that annoyance she was
always able to have her tasks thoroughly pre-
pared; and though her governess was often
unreasonable and exacting, and there was
scarcely a day in which she was not called
upon to yield her own wishes or pleasures, or
in some way to inconvenience herself to please
Walter or Enna, or occasionally the older
members of the family, yet it was an unusually
happy winter to her, for Rose Allison's love
and uniform kindness shed sunshine on her
path. She had learned to yield readily to

ELSIE DINSMORE 53

others, and when fretted or saddened by un-
just or unkind treatment, a few moments alone
with her precious Bible and her loved Saviour
made all right again, and she would come from
those sweet communings looking as serenely
happy as if she had never known an annoy-
ance. She was a wonder to all the family.
Her grandfather would sometimes look at her
as, without a frown or a pout, she would give
up her own wishes to Enna, and shaking his
head, say: "She's no Dinsmore, or she would
know how to stand up for her own rights bet-
ter than that. I don't like such tame-spirited
people. She's not Horace's child; it never
was an easy matter to impose upon or conquer
him. He was a boy of spirit."

"What a strange child Elsie is!" Adelaide
remarked to her friend one day. "I am often
surprised to see how sweetly she gives up to
all of us; really, she has a lovely temper. I
quite envy her ; it was always hard for me to
give up my own way."

" I do not believe it was easy for her at first,"
said Rose. "I think her sweet disposition is
the fruit of a work of grace in her heart. It is
the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which
God alone can bestow."

"I wish I had it, then," said Adelaide,
sighing.

54 ELSIE DINSMORE

"You have only to go to the right source to
obtain it, dear Adelaide,'' replied her friend,
gently.

"And yet," said Adelaide, "I must say I
sometimes think that, as papa says, there is
something mean-spirited and cowardly in
always giving up to other people."

"It would indeed he cowardly and wrong
to give up principle," replied Rose, "but sure-
ly it is noble and generous to give up our own
wishes to another, where no principle is
involved."

"Certainly, you are right," said Adelaide,
musingly. "And now I recollect that, readily
as Elsie gives up her own wishes to others on
ordinary occasions, I have never known her to
sacrifice principle; but, on the contrary, she
has several times made mamma excessively
angry by refusing to romp and play with Enna
on the Sabbath, or to deceive papa when ques-
tioned with regard to some of Arthur's mis-
deeds ; yet she has often borne the blame of his
faults, when she might have escaped by telling
of him. Elsie is certainly very different from
any of the rest of us, and if it is piety that
makes her what she is, I think piety is a very
lovely thing."

Elsie's mornings were spent in the school-
room; in the afternoon she walked, or rode

ELSIE DINSMORE 55

out, sometimes in company with her young
uncles and aunts, and sometimes alone, a negro
boy following at a respectful distance, as a
protector. In the evening there was almost
always company in the parlor, and she found
it pleasanter to sit beside the bright wood-fire
in her own room, with her fond old nurse for
a companion, than to stay there, or with the
younger ones in the sitting-room or nursery.
If she had no lesson to learn, she usually read
aloud to Chloe, as she sat knitting by the fire,
and the Bible was the book generally preferred
by both; and then when she grew weary of
reading she would often take a stool, and sit-
ting down close to Chloe, put her head in her
lap, saying, "Now, mammy, tell me about
mamma."

And then for the hundredth time or more
the old woman would go over the story of the
life and death of her "dear young missus," as
she always called her; telling of her beauty,
her goodness, and of her sorrows and suffer-
ings during the last year of her short life.

It was a story which never lost its charm
for Elsie ; a story which the one never wearied
of telling nor the other of hearing. Elsie would
sit listening, with her mother's miniature in
her hand, gazing at it with tearful eyes, then
press it to her lips, murmuring, "My own

56 ELSIE DINSMORE

mamma; poor, dear mamma." And when
CMoe had finished that story she would
usually say, "Now, mammy, tell me all about
papa."

But upon this subject Chloe had very little
information to give. She knew him only as a
gay, handsome young stranger, whom she had
seen occasionally during a few months, and
who had stolen all the sunshine from her be-
loved young mistress ' life, and left her to die
alone ; yet she did not blame him when speak-
ing to his child, for the young wife had told
her that he had not forsaken her of his own
free choice; and though she could not quite
banish from her own mind the idea that he had
not been altogether innocent in the matter, she
breathed no hint of it to Elsie ; for Chloe was
a sensible woman, and knew that to lead the
little one to think ill of her only remaining
parent would but tend to make her unhappy.
Sometimes Elsie would ask very earnestly,
"Do you think papa loves Jesus, mammy!"
And Chloe would reply with a doubtful shake
of the head: "Dunno, darlin'; but ole Chloe
prays for him ebery day."

"And so do I," Elsie would answer; "dear,
dear papa, how I wish he would come home!"

And so the winter glided away, and spring
came, and Miss Allison must soon return home.

ELSIE DINSMORE 57

It was now the last day of March, and her
departure had been fixed for the second of
April. For a number of weeks Elsie had been
engaged, during all her spare moments, in
knitting a purse for Rose, wishing to give her
something which was the work of her own
hands, knowing that as such it would be more
prized by her friend than a costlier gift. She
had just returned from her afternoon ride,
and taking out her work, she sat down to finish
it. She was in her own room, with no compan-
ion but Chloe, who sat beside her knitting as
usual.

Elsie worked on silently for some time, then
suddenly holding up her purse, she exclaimed :
"See, mammy, it is all done but putting on the
tassel ! Isn't it pretty ? And won't dear Miss
Allison be pleased with it?"

It really was very pretty indeed, of crimson
and gold, and beautifully knit, and Chloe,
looking at it with admiring eyes, said, "I spec
she will, darlin\ I tink it's bery handsome."

At this moment Enna opened the door and
came in.

Elsie hastily attempted to coneeal the purse
by thrusting it into her pocket, but it was too
late, for Enna had seen it, and running toward
her, cried out, "Now Elsie, just give that to
me!"

58 ELSIE DINSMORE

"No, Enna," replied Elsie, mildly, "I can-
not let you have it, because it is for Miss
Rose."

"I will have it," exclaimed the child, reso-
lutely, "and if you don't give it to me at once
I shall just go and tell mamma."

"I will let you take it in your hand a few
moments to look at it, if you will be careful
not to soil it, Enna," said Elsie, in the same
gentle tone; "and if you wish, I will get some
more silk and beads, and make you one just
like it; but I cannot give you this, because I
would not have time to make another for Miss
Rose."

"No, I shall just have that one; and I shall
have it to keep," said Enna, attempting to
snatch it out of Elsie's hand.

But Elsie held it up out of her reach, and,
after trying several times in vain to get it,
Enna left the room, crying and screaming with
passion.

Chloe locked the door, saying, "Great pity,
darlin?, we forgot to do dat 'fore Miss Enna
came. I'se 'fraid she gwine bring missus for
make you gib um up."

Elsie sat down to her work again, but she
was very pale, and her little hands trembled
with agitation, and her soft eyes were full of
tears.

ELSIE DINSMORE 59

Chloe's fears were but too well founded ; for
the next moment hasty steps were heard in
the passage, and the handle of the door was
laid hold of with no very gentle grasp; and
then, as it refused to yield to her touch, Mrs.
Dinsmore's voice was heard in an angry tone
giving the command, "Open this door in-
stantly."

Chloe looked at her young mistress.

"You will have to," said Elsie, tearfully,
slipping her work into her pocket again, and
lifting up her heart in prayer for patience
and meekness, for she well knew she would
have need of both.

Mrs. Dinsmore entered, leading the sobbing
Enna by the hand ; her face was flushed with
passion, and addressing Elsie in tones of vio-
lent anger, she asked, "What is the meaning
of all this, you good-for-nothing hussy ? Why
are you always tormenting this poor child?
Where is that paltry trifle that all this fuss
is about ? Let me see it this instant."

Elsie drew the purse from her pocket, saying
in tearful, trembling tones, "It is a purse I
was making for Miss Rose, ma'am; and I
offered to make another just like it for Enna ;
but I cannot give her this one, because there
would not be time to make another before Miss
Bose goes away."

60 ELSIE DINSMORE

"You can not give it to her, indeed! Ton
will not, you mean; but I say you shall; and
I'll see if I'm not mistress in my own house.
Give it to the child this instant; I'll not have
her crying her eyes out that you may be
humored in all your whims. There are plenty
of handsomer ones to be had in the city, and
if you are too mean to make her a present of
it, I'll buy you another to-morrow."

"But that would not be my work, and this
is," replied Elsie, still retaining the purse,
loath to let it go.

"Nonsense! What difference will that make
to Miss Rose?" said Mrs. Dinsmore; and
snatching it out of her hand, she gave it to
Enna, saying, "There, my pet, you shall have
it. Elsie is a naughty, mean, stingy girl, but
she shan't plague you while your mamma's
about."

Enna cast a look of triumph at Elsie, and
ran off with her prize, followed by her mother,
while poor Elsie hid her face in Chloe's lap,
and cried bitterly.

It required all Chloe's religion to keep down
her anger and indignation at this unjust and
cruel treatment of her darling, and for a few
moments she allowed her to sob and cry with-
out a word, only soothing her with mute
caresses, not daring to trust her voice, lest her

ELSIE DINSMORE 61

anger should find vent in words. But at
length, when her feelings had grown somewhat
calmer, she said soothingly, "Nebber mind it,
my poor darlin' chile. Just go to de city and
buy de prettiest purse you can find for Miss
Rose."

But Elsie shook her head sadly. "I wanted
it to be my own work," she sobbed, "and now
there is no time."

"Oh! I'll tell you what, my pet," exclaimed
Chloe, suddenly, "dere's de purse you was
a knittin' for your papa, an' dey wouldn't send
it for you; you can get dat done for de lady,
and knit another for your papa, 'fore he
comes home."

Elsie raised her head with a look of relief,
but her face clouded again, as she replied,
"But it is not quite done, and I haven't the
beads to finish it with, and Miss Rose goes day
after to-morrow."

"Nebber mind dat, darlin'," said Chloe,
jumping up; "Pomp he been gwine to de city
dis bery afternoon, an' we'll tell him to buy
de beads, an' den you can get de purse finished
'fore to-morrow night, an' de lady don't go
till de next day, an' so it gwine all come right
yet."

"Oh! yes, that will do; dear old mammy,
I'm so glad you thought of it," said Elsie,

62 ELSIE DINSMORE -

joyfully. And rising, she went to her bureau,
and unlocking a drawer, took from it a bead
purse of blue and gold, quite as handsome as
the one of which she had been so ruthlessly
despoiled, and rolling it up in a piece of paper,
she handed it to Chloe, saying: " There,
mammy, please give it to Pomp, and tell him
to match the beads and the silk exactly."

Chloe hastened in search of Pomp, but when
she found him, he insisted that he should not
have time to attend to Miss Elsie's commis-
sion and do his other errands, and Chloe,
knowing that he, in common with all the other
servants, was very fond of the little girl, felt
satisfied that it was not merely an excuse, and
therefore did not urge her request. She stood
a moment in great perplexity, then suddenly
exclaimed, "I'll go myself! Miss Elsie will
spare me, an' I'll go right 'long wid you,
Pomp."

Chloe was entirely Elsie's servant, having
no other business than to wait upon her and
take care of her clothing and her room; and
the little girl, of course, readily gave her per-
mission to accompany Pomp and do the er-
rand.

But it was quite late ere Chloe returned,
and the little girl spent the evening alone in
her own room. Then in answer to her eager

ELSIE DINSMORE 63

inquiries Chloe displayed her purchases with
great satisfaction, saying, "Yes, darlin*, I'se
got de bery t'ings you wanted."

"Oh! yes," said Elsie, examining them with
delight; "they are just right; and now I can
finish it in a couple of hours."

"Time to get ready for bed now, ain't it,
pet?" asked Chloe; but before the little girl
had time to answer, a servant knocked at the
door, and handed in a note for her. It was
from Miss Allison, and, hastily tearing it
open, she read:

"Dear Elsie — I am very sorry that we cannot
have our reading together this evening ; but be sure,
darling, to come to me early in the morning ; it will
be our last opportunity, for, dear child, I have an-
other disappointment for you. I had not expected to
leave before day after to-morrow, but I have learned
this evening that the vessel sails a day sooner than
I had supposed, and therefore I shall be obliged to
start on my journey to-morrow.

trYour friend, ROSE."

Elsie dropped the note on the floor and
burst into tears.

"What de matter, darlin'f" asked Chloe,
anxiously.

"Oh! Miss Rose, dear, dear Miss Rose is
going to-morrow," she sobbed. Then, hastily,
drying her eyes, she said: "But I have no
time for crying. I must sit up and finish the

64 ELSIE DINSMORE

purse to-night, because there will not be time
to-morrow/'

It was long past her usual hour for retiring
when at last her task, or rather her labor of
love, was completed. Yet she was up betimes,
and at the usual hour her gentle rap was heard
at Miss Allison's door.

Rose clasped her in her arms and kissed her
tenderly.

"O Miss Rose! dear, dear Miss Rose, what
shall I do without you?" sobbed the little girl.
"I shall have nobody to love me liow but
mammy."

" You have another and a better friend, dear
Elsie, who has said, *I will never leave thee,
nor forsake thee,' " whispered Rose, with an-
other tender caress.

"■Yes," said Elsie, wiping away her tears;
"and He is your Friend, too; and don't you
think, Miss Rose, He will bring us together
again some day?"

"I hope so indeed, darling. We must keep
very close to Him, dear Elsie; we must often
commune with Him in secret ; often study His
word, and try always to do His will. Ah ! dear
child, if we can only have the assurance that
that dear Friend is with us — that we have His
presence and His love, we shall be supremely
happy, though separated from all earthly

ELSIE DINSMORE 65

friends. I know, dear little one, that you have
peculiar trials, and that you often feel the
want of sympathy and love; but you may al-
ways find them in Jesus. And now we will
have our reading and prayer as usual. ' '

She took the little girl in her lap, and open-
ing the Bible, read aloud the fourteenth
chapter of John, a part of that touching fare-
well of our Saviour to His sorrowing disciples ;
and then they knelt to pray. Elsie was only
a listener, for her little heart was too full to
allow her to be anything more.

"My poor darling!" Rose said, again taking
her in her arms, "we will hope to meet again
before very long. Who knows but your papa
may come home, and some day bring you to
see me. It seems not unlikely, as he is so fond
of traveling.' '

Elsie looked up, smiling through her tears.
"O! how delightful that would be," she said.
"But it seems as though my papa would never
come," she added, with a deep-drawn sigh.

"Well, darling, we can hope," Rose an-
swered cheerfully. "And, dear, child, though
we must be separated in body for a time, we
can still meet in spirit at the mercy-seat. Shall
we not do so at this hour every morning1?"

Elsie gave a joyful assent.

"And I shall write to yoU, darling," Rose

66 ELSIE DINSMORE

said; "I will write on my journey, if I can,
so that you will get the letter in a week from
the time I leave ; and then you must write to
me; will you?"

"If you won't care for the mistakes, Miss
Rose. But you know I am a very little girl,
and I wouldn't like to let Miss Day read my
letter to you, to correct it But I shall be so
very glad to get yours. I never had a letter
in my life."

"I sha'n't care for mistakes at all, dear, and
no one shall see your letters but myself," said
Rose, kissing her. "I should be as sorry as
you to have Miss Day look at them."

Elsie drew out the purse and put it in her
friend's hand, saying: "It is all my own work,
dear Miss Rose; I thought you would value
it more for that."

"And indeed I shall, darling," replied Rose,
with tears of pleasure in her eyes. "It is
beautiful in itself, but I shall value it ten times
more because it is your gift, and the work of
your own dear little hands."

But the breakfast-bell now summoned them
to join the rest of the family, and, in a few
moments after they left the table, the carriage
which was to take Rose to the city was at the
door. Rose had endeared herself to all, old
and young, and they were loath to part with

ELSIE DINSMORE 67

her. One after another bade her an affection-
ate farewell. Elsie was the last. Rose pressed
her tenderly to her bosom, and kissed her
again and again, saying, in a voice half choked
with grief, "God bless and keep you, my poor
little darling; my dear, dear little Elsie!"

Elsie could not speak; and the moment the
carriage had rolled away with her friend, she
went to her own room, and locking herself in,
cried long and bitterly. She had learned to
love Rose very dearly, and to lean upon her
very much; and now the parting from her,
with no certainty of ever meeting her again
in this world, was the severest trial the poor
child had ever known.

CHAPTER III.

"The morning blush was lighted up by hope —
The hope of meeting him."

Miss Landon.

"Unkindness, do thy office; poor heart, break."

A week had now passed away since Miss Alli-
son's departure, and Elsie, to whom it had
been a sad and lonely one, was beginning to
look eagerly for her first letter.

"It is just a week to-day since Rose left,"
remarked Adelaide, at the breakfast table,
"and I think we ought to hear from her soon.
She promised to write on her journey. Ah!
here comes Pomp with the letters now," she
added, as the servant man entered the room
bearing in his hand the bag in which he always
brought the letters of the family from the
office in the neighboring city, whither he was
sent every morning.

"Pomp, you are late this morning," said
Mrs. Dinsmore.

"Yes, missus," replied the negro, scratch-
ing his head, "de horses am bery lazy; spec
dey's got de spring fever."

"Do make haste, papa, and see if there is

69

70 ELSIE DINSMORE

not one from Rose," said Adelaide, coaxingly,
as her father took the bag, and very delib-
erately adjusted his spectacles before open-
ing it.

"Have patience, young lady," said he.
"Yes, here is a letter for you, and one for
Elsie," tossing them across the table as he
spoke.

Elsie eagerly seized hers and ran away to
her own room to read it. It was a feast to
feer, this first letter, and from such a dear
friend, too. It gave her almost as much pleas-
ure for the moment as Miss Rose's presence
could have afforded.

She had just finished its perusal and was
beginning it again, when she heard Adelaide's
voice calling her by name, and the next mo-
ment she entered the room, saying: " Well,
Elsie, I suppose you have read your letter;
and now I have another piece of news for you.
Can you guess what it is?" she asked, looking
at her with a strange smile.

"Oh, no, Aunt Adelaide; please tell me. Is
dear Miss Rose coming back?"

" O ! nonsense ; what a guess ! ' ? said Adelaide.
"No, stranger than that. My brother Horace
— your father — has actually sailed for Amer-
ica, and is coming directly home."

ELSIE DINSMORE 71

Elsie sprang up, her cheeks flushed, and her
little heart beating wildly.

"O Aunt Adelaide!" she cried, "is it really
true ? is he coming 1 and will he be here soon ?"

"He has really started at last; but how soon
he will be here I don't know," replied her
aunt, turning to leave the room. ' ' I have told
you all I know about it."

Elsie clasped her hands together, and sank
down upon a sofa, Miss Rose's letter, prized
so highly a moment before, lying unheeded at
her feet ; for her thoughts were far away, fol-
lowing that unknown parent as he crossed the
ocean; trying to imagine how he would look,
how he would speak, what would be his feel-
ings toward her.

"Oh!" she asked, with a beating heart, "will
he love me 1 My own papa ! will he let me love
him? will he take me in his arms and call me
his own darling child?"

But who could answer the anxious inquiry f
She must just wait until the slow wheels of
time should bring the much-longed-for, yet
sometimes half-dreaded arrival.

Elsie's lessons were but indifferently recited
that morning, and Miss Day frowned, and
said in a tone of severity that it did not agree
with her to receive letters; and that, unless
she wished her papa to be much displeased

72 ELSIE DINSMORE

with her on his expected arrival, she must do
a great deal better than that.

She had touched the right chord then; for
Elsie, intensely anxious to please that un-
known father, and, if possible, gain his appro-
bation and affection, gave her whole mind to
her studies with such a determined purpose
that the governess could find no more cause
for complaint.

But while the child is looking forward to
the expected meeting with such longing affec-
tion for him, how is it with the father ?

Horace Dinsmore was, like his father, an
upright, moral man, who paid an outward re-
spect to the forms of religion, but cared noth-
ing for the vital power of godliness; trusted
entirely to his morality, and looked upon
Christians as hypocrites and deceivers. He
had been told that his little Elsie was one of
them, and, though he would not have acknowl-
edged it even to himself, it had prejudiced
him against her. Then, too, in common with
all the Dinsmores, he had a great deal of
family pride; and, though old Mr. Grayson
had been a man of sterling worth, intelligent,
honest, and pious, and had died very wealthy,
yet because he was known to have begun life
as a poor boy, the whole family were accus-

ELSIE DINSMORE 73

tomed to speak as though Horace had stooped
very much in marrying his heiress.

And Horace himself had come to look upon
his early marriage as a piece of boyish folly,
of which he was rather ashamed ; and so con-
stantly had Mr. Dinsmore spoken in his letters
of Elsie as "old Grayson's grandchild, " that
he had got into the habit of looking upon her
as a kind of disgrace to him ; especially as she
had always been described to him as a dis-
agreeable, troublesome child.

He had loved his wife with all the warmth
of his passionate nature, and had mourned
bitterly over her untimely death; but years
of study, travel and worldly pleasures had
almost banished her image from his mind, and
he seldom thought of her except in connection
with the child for whom he felt a secret dislike.

Scarcely anything but the expected arrival
was now spoken or thought of at Roselands,
and Elsie was not the only one to whom old
Time seemed to move with an unusually lag-
gard pace.

But at length a letter came telling them that
they might look upon it as being but one day
in advance of its writer ; and now all was bustle
and preparation.

"O mammy, mammy!" exclaimed Elsie,
jumping up and down, and clapping her hands

74 ELSIE DINSMORE

for joy, as she came in from her afternoon
ride, " just think ! papa, dear papa, will be here
to-morrow morning. ' '

She seemed wild with delight ; but suddenly
sobered down, and a look of care stole over
the little face, as the torturing question re-
curred to her mind, "Witt he love mef"

She stood quite still, with her eyes fixed
thoughtfully, and almost sadly, upon the floor,
while Chloe took off her riding dress and cap
and smoothed her hair. As she finished ar-
ranging her dress she clasped the little form
in her arms, and pressed a fond Mss on the
fair brow, thinking to herself that was the
sweetest and loveliest little face she had ever
looked upon.

Just at that moment an unusual bustle was
heard in the house.

Elsie started, changed color, and stood
listening with a throbbing heart.

Presently little feet were heard running
rapidly down the hall, and Walter, throwing
open the door, called out, "Elsie, he's come!',
and catching her hand, hurried her along to
the parlor door.

"Stop, stop, Walter," she gasped, as they
reached it; and she leaned against the wall,
her heart throbbing so wildly she could
scarcely breathe.

ELSIE DINSMORE 75

"What is the matter V9 said he. "Are you
ill? Come along!" and pushing the door
open, he rushed in, dragging her after him.

So over-wrought were the child's feelings
that she nearly fainted ; everything in the room
seemed to be turning round, and for an in-
stant she scarcely knew where she was.

But a strange voice asked, "And who is
this f " and looking up as her grandfather pro-
nounced her name, she saw a stranger standing
before her — very handsome, and very youth-
ful-looking, in spite of a heavy dark beard and
mustache — who exclaimed hastily, "What!
this great girl my child ? Really it is enough ta
make a man feel old."

Then, taking her hand, he stooped and coldly
kissed her lips.

She was trembling violently, and the very
depth of her feelings kept her silent and still ;
her hand lay still in his, cold and clammy.

He held it an instant, at the same time gaz-
ing searchingly into her face; then dropped
it, saying in a tone of displeasure, "I am not
an ogre, that you need be so afraid of me ; but
there, you may go; I will not keep you in
terror any longer."

She rushed away to her own room, and
there, throwing herself upon the bed, wept
long and wildly. It was the disappointment

76 ELSIE DINSMORE

of a lifelong hope. Since her earliest recol-
lection she had looked and longed for this
hour ; and it seemed as though the little heart
would break with its weight of bitter anguish.

She was all alone, for Chloe had gone down
to the kitchen to talk over the arrival, not
doubting that her darling was supremely
happy in the possession of her long-looked-f or
parent.

And so the little girl lay there with her
crushed and bleeding heart, sobbing, mourn-
ing, weeping as though she would weep her
very life away, without an earthly friend to
speak one word of comfort.

"O papa, papa!" she sobbed, "my own papa,
you do not love me; me, your own little girl.
Oh ! my heart will break. O mamma, mamma !
if I could only go to you ; for there is no one
here to love me, and I am so lonely > oh, so
lonely and desolate."

And thus Chloe found her, when she came
in an hour later, weeping and sobbing out such
broken exclamations of grief and anguish.

She was much surprised, but comprehending
at once how her child was suffering, she raised
her up in her strong arms, and laying the little
head lovingly against her bosom, she smoothed
the tangled hair, kissed the tear-swollen eyes,
and bathed the throbbing temples, saying,

ELSIE DINSMORE 77

"My precious pet, my darlin' chile, your ole
mammy loves you better dan life; an' did my
darlin' forget de almighty Friend dat says,
'/ have loved thee with an everlasting love,'
an "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee"?
He sticks closer dan a brudder, precious chile,
and says, ' though a woman forget her sucking
child, He will not forget His chillen.' Mothers
love dere chillens better dan fathers, darlin',
and so you see Jesus' love is better dan all
other love; an' I knows you hes got dat."

"O mammy! ask Him to take me to Him-
self, and to mamma — for oh ! 1 am very lonely,
and I want to die!"

"Hush, hush, darlin'; old Chloe nebber
could ask dat; dis ole heart would break for
sure. You's all de world to your old mammy,
darlin'; and you know we must all wait de
Lord's time."

"Then ask Him to help me to be patient,"
she said, in a weary tone. "And O mammy!"
she added, with a burst of bitter tears, "ask
Him to make my father love me."

"I will, darlin', I will," sobbed Chloe,
pressing the little form closer to her heart;
"an' don't you go for to be discouraged right
away; for I'se sure Massa Horace must love
you, 'fore long."

The tea-bell rang, and the family gathered

78 ELSIE DINSMORE

about the table ; but one chair remained unoc-
cupied.

" Where is Miss Elsie?" asked Adelaide of
one of the servants.

"Dunno, missus," was the reply.

"Well, then, go and see," said Adelaide;
" perhaps she did not hear the bell."

The servant returned in a moment, saying
that Miss Elsie had a bad headache and did
not want any supper. Mr. Horace Dinsmore
paused in the conversation he was carrying
on with his father, to listen to the servant's
announcement. "I hope she is not a sickly
child," said he, addressing Adelaide; "is she
subject to such attacks?"

"Not very," replied his sister, dryly, for
she had seen the meeting, and felt really sorry
for Elsie's evident disappointment; "I imag-
ine crying has brought this on."

He colored violently, and said in a tone of
great displeasure, "Truly, the return of a
parent is a cause for grief; yet I hardly ex-
pected my presence to be quite so distressing
to my only child. I had no idea that she had
already learned to dislike me so thoroughly."

"She doesn't," said Adelaide, "she has been
looking and longing for your return ever since
I have known her."

"Then she has certainly been disappointed

ELSIE DINSMORE 79

in me ; her grief is not at all complimentary,
explain it as you will. ' '

Adelaide made no reply, for she saw that
he was determined to put an unfavorable con-
struction upon Elsie's conduct, and feared that
any defense she could offer would only in-
crease his displeasure.

It was a weary, aching head the little girl
laid upon her pillow that night, and the little
heart was sad and sore ; yet she was not alto-
gether comfortless for she had turned in her
sorrow to Him who had said, " Suffer the little
children to come unto me, and forbid them
not," and she had the sweet assurance of Bis
love and favor.

It was with a trembling heart, hoping yet
fearing, longing and yet dreading to see her
father, that Elsie descended to the breakfast-
room the next morning. She glanced timidly
around, but he was not there.

"Where is papa, Aunt Adelaide t" she
asked.

"He is not coming down to breakfast, as
he feels quite fatigued with his journey," re-
plied her aunt; "so you will not see him this
morning, and perhaps not at all to-day, for
there will be a good deal of company here this
afternoon and evening."

Elsie sighed and looked sadly disappointed.

"80 ELSIE DINSMORE

She found it very difficult to attend to her
lessons that morning, and every time the door
opened she started and looked up, half hoping
it might be her papa.

But he did not come ; and when the dinner
hour arrived, the children were told that they
were to dine in the nursery, on account of the
large number of guests to be entertained in
the dining-room. The company remained until
bedtime ; she was not called down to the par-
lor, and so saw nothing of her father that day.

But the next morning Chloe told her the
children were to breakfast with the family,
as all the visitors had left excepting one or
two gentlemen. So Elsie went down to the
breakfast-room, where, to her surprise, she
found her papa sitting alone, reading the
morning paper.

He looked up as she entered.

"Good-morning, papa," she said, in half-
trembling tones. He started a little — for it
was the first time he had ever been addressed
by that title, and it sounded strange to his
ears — gave her a glance of mingled curiosity
and interest, half held out his hand, but draw-
ing it back again, simply said, " Good-morning,
Elsie," and returned to his paper.

Elsie stood irresolutely in the middle of the
floor, wanting, yet not daring to go to him.

ELSIE DINSMORE 81

But just at that instant the door opened,
and Enna, looking rosy and happy, came run-
ning in, and rushing up to her brother, climbed
upon his knee, and put her arms around his
neck, saying, "Good-morning, brother Horace.
I want a kiss."

"You shall have it, little pet," said he,
throwing down his paper.

Then, kissing her several times and hugging
her in his arms, he said, "You are not afraid
of me, are you? nor sorry that I have come
home?"

"No, indeed," said Enna.

He glanced at Elsie as she stood looking at
them, her large, soft eyes full of tears. She
could not help feeling that Enna had her place,
and was receiving the caresses that should
have been lavished upon herself.

"Jealous," thought her father; "I cannot
bear jealous people"; and he gave her a look
of displeasure that cut her to the heart, and
she turned quickly away and left the room to
hide the tears she could no longer keep back.

"I am envious," she thought, "jealous of
Enna. Oh! how wicked!" And she prayed
silently, "Dear Saviour, help me! take away
these sinful feelings."

Young as she was, she was learning to have
some control over her feelings, and in a few

82 ELSIE DINSMORE

moments she had so far recovered her com-
posure as to be able to return to the breakfast-
room and take her place at the table, where
* the rest were already seated, her sweet little
face sad indeed and bearing the traces of
tears, but quite calm and peaceful.

Her father took no further notice of her,
and she did not dare trust herself to look at
him. The servants filled her plate, and she ate
in silence, feeling it a great relief that all were
too busily engaged in talking and eating to
pay any attention to her. She scarcely raised
her eyes from her plate, and did not know how
often a strange gentleman, who sat nearly
opposite, fixed his upon her.

As she left the room at the conclusion of
the meal, he asked, while following her with
his eyes, "Is that one of your sisters,
Dinsxnore?"

"No," said he, coloring slightly; "she is my
daughter."

"Ah, indeed!" said his friend. "I remem-
ber to have heard that you had a child, but had
forgotten it. "Well, you have no reason to be
ashamed of her ; she is lovely, perfectly lovely!
has the sweetest little face I ever saw."

"Will you ride, Travilla?" asked Mr. Dins-
more, hastily, as though anxious to change the
subject.

ELSIE DINSMORE 83

"I don't care if I do," was the reply , and
they went out together.

Some hours later in the day Elsie was at
the piano in the music-room practicing, when
a sudden feeling that some one was in the
room caused her to turn and look behind her.

Mr. Travilla was standing there.

"Excuse me," said he, bowing politely, "but
I heard the sound of the instrument, and,
being very fond of music, I ventured to walk
in."

Elsie was very modest, and rather timid, too,
but also very polite; so she said, "No excuse
is necessary ; but will you not take a seat, sir %
though I fear my music will not afford you
any pleasure, for you know I am only a little
girl, and cannot play very well yet."

"Thank you," said he, taking a seat by her
side. "And now will you do me the favor to
repeat the song I heard you singing a few
moments since?"

Elsie immediately complied, though her
cheeks burned, and her voice trembled at first
from embarrassment; but it grew stronger as
she proceeded, and in the last verse was quite
steady and full. She had a very fine voice
for a child of her age; its sweetness was re-
markable, both in singing and speaking; and
she had also a good deal of musical talent,

84 ELSIE DINSMORE

which had been well cultivated, for she had
had good teachers, and had practiced with
great patience and perseverance. Her music
was simple, as suited her years, but her per-
formance of it was very good indeed.

Mr. Travilla thanked her very heartily, and
complimented her singing ; then asked for an-
other and another song, another and another
piece, chatting with her about each, until they
grew quite familiar, and Elsie lost all feeling
of embarrassment.

"Elsie, I think, is your name, is it not*?"
he asked, after a little.

"Yes, sir," said she, "Elsie Dinsmore." ,

"And you are the daughter of my friend,
Mr. Horace Dinsmore?"
. "Yes, sir."

"Your papa has been absent a long time,
and I suppose you must have quite forgotten
him."

"No, sir, not forgotten, for I never had seen
him."

"Indeed!" said he, in a tone of surprise;
"then, since he is an entire stranger to you, I
suppose you cannot have much affection for
him?"

Elsie raised her large, dark eyes to his face,
with an expression of astonishment. "Not
love papa, my own dear papa, who has no child

ELSIE BINSMORE 85

but me? Oh! sir, liow could you think that?"

"Ah! I see I was mistaken," said he, smil-
ing; "I thought you could hardly care for him
at all; but do you think that he loves you?"

Elsie dropped her face into her hands, and
burst into an agony of tears.

The young gentleman looked extremely
vexed with himself.

"My poor little girl, my poor, dear little
girl," he said, stroking her hair, "forgive me.
I am very, very sorry for my thoughtless
question. Do be comforted, my poor child,
for whether your papa loves you now or not,
I am quite sure he soon will."

Elsie now dried her tears, rose and closed
the instrument. He assisted her, and then
asked if she would not take a little walk with
him in the garden. She complied, and, feeling
really very sorry for the wound he had so
thoughtlessly inflicted, as well as interested in
his little companion, he exerted all his powers
to entertain her — talked with her about the
plants and flowers, described those he had seen
in foreign lands, and related incidents of
travel, usually choosing those in which her
father had borne a part, because he perceived
that they were doubly interesting to her.

Elsie, having been thrown very much upon
her own resources for amusement, and having

86 ELSIE DINSMORE

a natural love for books, and constant access
to her grandfather's well-stocked library, had
read many more, and with much more thought,
than most children of her age, so that Mr.
Travilla found her a not uninteresting com-
panion, and was often surprised at the intelli-
gence shown by her questions and replies.

When the dinner-bell rang he led her in, and
seated her by himself, and never was any lady
more carefully waited upon than little Elsie
at this meal. Two or three other gentlemen
guests were present, giving their attention to
the older ladies of the company, and thus Mr.
Travilla seemed to feel quite at liberty to de-
vote himself entirely to her, attending to all
her wants, talking with her, and making her
talk.

Elsie now and then stole a glance at Mrs.
Dinsmore, fearing her displeasure ; but to her
great relief, the lady seemed too much occu-
pied to notice her. Once she looked timidly
at her father, and her eyes met his. He was
looking at her with an expression half curi-
ous, half amused. She was at a loss to under-
stand the look, but, satisfied that there was no
displeasure in it, her heart grew light, and her
cheeks flushed with happiness.

"Really, Dinsmore," said Mr. Travilla, as
they stood together near one of the windows

ELSIE DINSMORE 87

of the drawing-room soon after dinner, "your
little girl is remarkably intelligent, as well as
remarkably pretty ; and I have discovered that
she has quite a good deal of musical talent.' '

" Indeed! I think it is quite a pity that she
does not belong to you, Travilla, instead of
me, since you seem to appreciate her so much
more highly," replied the father, laughing.

"I wish she did," said his friend. "But,
seriously, Dinsmore, you ought to love that
child, for she certainly loves you devotedly."

He looked surprised. i ' How do you know f ' '
he asked.

"It was evident enough from what I saw
and heard this morning. Dinsmore, she would
value a caress from you more than the richest
jewel."

"Doubtful," replied Horace, hastily quit-
ting the room, for Elsie had come out onto
the portico in her riding suit, and Jim, her
usual attendant, was bringing up her horse.

"Are you going to ride, Elsie?" asked her
father, coming up to her.

"Yes, papa," she said, raising her eyes to
his face.

He lifted her in his arms and placed her on
the horse, saying to the servant as he did so,
"Now, Jim, you must take good care of my
little girl."

88 ELSIE DINSMORE

Tears of happiness rose in Elsie's eyes as
she turned her horse's head and rode down
the avenue. "He called me his little girl,"
she murmured to herself, "and bade Jim
take good eare of me. Oh! he will love me
soon, as good, kind Mr. Travilla said he
would."

Her father was still standing on the portico,
looking after her.

"How well she sits her horse!" remarked
Travilla, who had stepped out and stood close
by his side.

"Yes, I think she does," was the reply, in
an absent tone. He was thinking of a time,
some eight or nine years before, when he had
assisted another Elsie to mount her horse, and
had ridden for hours at her side.

All the afternoon memories of the past came
crowding thickly on his mind, and an emotion
of tenderness began to spring up in his heart
toward the child of her who had once been
so dear to him; and as he saw the little girl
ride up to the house on her return, he
again went out, and lifting her from her
horse, asked kindly, "Had you a pleasant
ride, my dear?"

"Oh! yes, papa, very pleasant," she said,
looking up at him with a face beaming with
delight.

ELSIE DINSMORE 89

He stooped and kissed her, saying, "I think
I shall ride with you one of these days ; should
you like it?"

1 'Oh! so very, very much, papa," she an*
swered, eagerly.

He smiled at her earnestness, and she
hastened away to her room to change her dress
and tell Chloe of her happiness.

Alas! it was but a transient gleam of sun-
shine that darted across her path, to be lost
again almost instantly behind the gathering
clouds.

More company came, so that the drawing-
room was quite full in the evening; and,
though Elsie was there, her father seemed too
much occupied with the guests to give her even
a glance. She sat alone and unnoticed in a
corner, her eyes following him wherever he
moved, and her ear strained to catch every
tone of his voice ; until Mr. Travilla, disengag-
ing himself from a group of ladies and gentle-
men on the opposite side of the room, came
up to her, and taking her by the hand, led
her to a pleasant-looking elderly lady, who sat
at a centre-table examining some choice en-
gravings which Mr. Dinsmore bad brought
with him from Europe.

"Mother," said Mr. Travilla, "this is my
little friend Elsie."

90 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Ah!" said she, giving the little girl a Mss,
"I am glad to see you, my dear."

Mr. Travilla set a chair for her close to his
mother and then sat down on her other side,
and taking up the engravings one after an-
other, he explained them to her in a most
entertaining manner, generally having some
anecdote to tell in connection with each.

Elsie was so much amused and delighted
with what he was saying that she at last quite
forgot her father, and did not notice where he
was.

Suddenly Mr. Travilla laid down the en-
graving he had in his hand, saying: "Come,
Miss Elsie, I want my mother to hear you play
and sing; will you not do me the favor to
repeat that song I admired so much this
morning?"

"Oh! Mr. Travilla!" exclaimed the little
girl, blushing and trembling, "I could not play
or sing before so many people. Please excuse
me."

"Elsie," said her father's voice, just at her
side, "go immediately, and do as the gentle-
man requests."

His tone was very stern, and as she lifted
her eyes to his face, she saw that his look was
still more so; and tremblingly and tearfully
she rose to obey.

ELSIE DINSMORE 91

"Stay," said Mr. Travilla, kindly, pitying
her distress, "I withdraw my request."

"But I do not withdraw my command," said
her father, in the same stern tone; "go at
once, Elsie, and do as I bid you."

She obeyed instantly, struggling hard to
overcome her emotion.

Mr. Travilla, scolding himself inwardly all
the time for having brought her into such
trouble, selected her music, and placing it be-
fore her as she took her seat at the instrument,
whispered encouragingly, "Now, Miss Elsie,
only have confidence in yourself; that is all
that is necessary to your success."

But Elsie was not only embarrassed, but her
heart was well-nigh broken by her father's
sternness, and the tears would fill her eyes so
that she could see neither nuuco nor words.
She attempted to play the prelude, but blun-
dered sadly, her embarrassment increasing
every moment.

"Never mind," said Mr. Travilla, "nev-
er mind the prelude, but just begin the
song."

She made the attempt, but fairly broke
down, and burst into tears before she had got
through the first verse. Her father had come
up behind her, and was standing there, looking
much mortified.

92 ELSIE DINSMORE

" Elsie,' ? lie said, leaning down and speak-
ing in a low, stern tone, close to her ear, "I
am ashamed of you; go to your room and to
your bed immediately."

"With a heart almost bursting with grief and
mortification she obeyed him, and her pillow
was wet with many bitter tears ere the weary
eyes closed in slumber.

When she came down the next morning, she
learned to her great grief that Mr. Travilla
and his mother had returned to their own
home; she was very sorry she had not been
permitted to say good-bye to her friend, and
for several days she felt very sad and lonely,
for all her father's coldness of manner had
returned, and he scarcely ever spoke to her;
while the younger members of the family ridi-
culed her for ner failure in attempting to play
for company ; and Miss Day, who seemed un-
usually cross and exacting, often taunted her
with it also.

These were sad, dark days for the little girl ;
she tried most earnestly to attend to all her
duties, but so depressed were her spirits, so
troubled was her mind, that she failed repeat-
edly in her lessons, and so was in continual
disgrace with Miss Day, who threatened more
than once to tell her papa.

It was a threat which Elsie dreaded ex-

ELSIE DINSMORE 93

tremely to have put in execution, and Miss
Day, seeing that it distressed her, used it the
more frequently, and thus kept the poor child
in constant terror.

How to gain her father's love was the con-
stant subject of her thoughts, and she tried
in many ways to win his affection. She always
yielded a ready and cheerful obedience to his
commands, and strove to anticipate and fulfill
all his wishes. But he seldom noticed her,
unless to give a command or administer a re-
buke, while he lavished many a caress upon
his little sister, Enna. Often Elsie would
watch him fondling her, until, unable any
longer to control her feelings, she would rush
away to her own room to weep and mourn in
secret, and pray that her father might some
day learn to love her. She never complained
even to poor old Aunt Chloe, but the anxious
nurse watched all these things with the jeal-
ous eye of affection; she saw that her child
— as she delighted to call her — was very un-
happy, and was growing pale and melancholy ;
and her heart ached for her, and many were
the tears she shed in secret over the sorrows
of her nursling.

"Don't 'pear so sorrowful, darlin'," she
sometimes said to her; "try to be merry, like
Miss Enna, and run and jump on Massa

94 ELSIE DINSMORE

Horace's knee, and den I t'ink lie will like
you better."

"O mammy! I can't,93 Elsie would say; "I
don't dare to do it."

And Chloe would sigh and shake her head
sorrowfully.

CHAPTER IV.

"With more capacity for love than earth
Bestows on most of mortal mould and birth."

— Byron.

"What are our hopes ?
Like garlands, on affliction's forehead worn,
Kissed in the morning, and at evening torn."
— Davenport's King John and Matilda.

Such had been the state of affairs for about
a week, when one morning Elsie and her
father met at the breakfast-room door.

"Good morning, papa," she said, timidly.

"Good morning, Elsie," he replied, in an
unusually pleasant tone.

Then, taking her by the hand, he led her in
and seated her beside himself at the table.

Elsie's cheek glowed and her eyes sparkled
with pleasure.

There were several guests present, and she
waited patiently while they and the older
members of the family were being helped. At
length it was her turn.

"Elsie, will you have some meat?" asked
her grandfather.

95

96 ELSIE DINSMORE

"No," said her father, answering for her;
"once a day is as often as a child of her age
ought to eat meat ; she may have it at dinner,
but never for breakfast or tea."

The elder Mr. Dinsmore laughed, saying,
"Really, Horace, I had no idea you were so
notional. I always allowed you to eat what-
ever you pleased, and I never saw that it hurt
youb But, of course, you must manage your
own child in your own way."

"If you please, papa, I had rather have
some of those hot cakes," said Elsie, timidly,
as her father laid a slice of bread upon her
plate,

"No," said he, decidedly; "I don't approve
of hot bread for children; you must eat the
cold." Then, to a servant who was setting
down a cup of coffee beside the little girl's
plate, "Take that away, Pomp, and bring
Miss Elsie a tumbler of milk. Or would you
prefer water, Elsie?"

"Milk, if you please, papa," she replied,
with a little sigh ; for she was extremely fond
of coffee, and it was something of a trial to
give it up.

Her father put a spoonful of stewed fruit
upon her plate, and as Pompey set down a
tumbler of rich milk beside it, said, "Now you
ha^e your breakfast before you, Elsie. Chil-

ELSIE DINSMORE 97

dren in England are not allowed to eat butter
until they are ten or eleven years of age, and
I think it an excellent plan, to make them
grow up rosy and healthy. I have neglected
my little girl too long, but I intend to begin
to take good care of her now," he added, with
a smile, and laying his hand for an instant
upon her head.

The slight caress and the few kind words
were quite enough to reconcile Elsie to the
rather meager fare, and she ate it with a happy
heart. But the meager fare became a constant
thing, while the caresses and kind words were
not ; and, though she submitted without a mur-
mur, she could not help sometimes looking
with longing eyes at the coffee and hot but-
tered rolls, of which she was very fond. But
she tried to be contented, saying to herself,
"Papa knows best, and I ought to be satisfied
with whatever he gives me."

"Isn't it delightful to have your papa at
home, Elsie?" Mr. Dinsmore one morning
overheard Arthur saying to his little girl, in
a mocking tone. "It's very pleasant to live on
bread and water, isn't it, eh?"

"I don't live on bread and water," Elsie
replied, a little indignantly. "Papa always
allows me to have as much good, rich milk,
and cream, and fruit as I want, or I can have

98 ELSIE DINSMORE

eggs, or cheese, or honey, or anything else ex-
cept meat and hot cakes, and butter, and
coffee; and who wouldn't rather do without
such things all their lives than not have a papa
to love them ? And besides, you know, Arthur,
that I can have all the meat I want at dinner;"

"Pooh! that's nothing; and I wouldn't give
much for all the love you get from him," said
Arthur, scornfully.

There was something like a sob from Elsie ;
and, as her father rose and went to the window,
he just caught a glimpse of her white dress
disappearing down the garden walk.

"What do you mean, sir, by teasing Elsie
in that manner?" he exclaimed angrily to
Arthur, who still stood where the little girl
had left him, leaning against one of the pillars
of the portico.

"I only wanted to have a little fun," re-
turned the boy, doggedly.

"Well, sir, I don't approve of such fun,
and you will please to let the child alone in
future," replied his brother, as he returned
to his newspaper again.

But somehow the paper had lost its interest.
He seemed constantly to hear that little sob,
and to see a little face all wet with tears of
wounded feeling.

Just then the school-bell rang, and suddenly

ELSIE DINSMORE 99

throwing down his paper, he took a card from
his pocket, wrote a few words upon it, and
calling a servant, said, "Take this to Miss
Day."

Elsie was seated at her desk, beginning her
morning's work, when the servant entered and
handed the card to the governess.

Miss Day glanced at it and said :

"Elsie, your father wants you. You may
go."

Elsie rose in some trepidation and left the
room, wondering what her papa could want
with her.

"Where is papa, Fanny?" she asked of the
servant.

"In de drawin'-room, Miss Elsie," was the
reply; and she hastened to seek him there.

He held out his hand as she entered, saying
with a smile, "Come here, daughter."

It was the first time he had called her that,
and it sent a thrill of joy to her heart.

She sprang to his side, and, taking her hand
in one of his, and laying the other gently on
her head, and bending it back a little, he looked
keenly into her face. It was bright enough
now, yet the traces of tears were very evident.

"You have been crying," he said, in a
slightly reproving tone. "I am afraid you
do a great deal more of that than is good for

100 ELSIE DINSMORE

you. It is a very babyish habit, and you must
try to break yourself of it."

The little face flushed painfully, and the
eyes filled again.

" There," he said, stroking her hair, " don't
begin it again. I am going to drive over to
Ion, where your friend Mr. Travilla lives, to
spend the day; would my little daughter like
to go with me V9

"Oh! so very much, papa!" she answered,
eagerly.

"There are no little folks there," he said,
smiling, "nobody to see but Mr. Travilla and
his mother. But I see you want to go ; so run
and ask Aunt Chloe to get you ready. Tell
her I want you nicely dressed, and the car-
riage will be at the door in half an hour."

Elsie bounded away to do his bidding, her
face radiant with happiness ; and at the speci-
fied time came down again, looking so very
lovely that her father gazed at her with proud
delight, and could not refrain from giving her
a kiss as he lifted her up to place her in the
carriage.

Then, seating himself beside her, he took
her hand in his; and, closing the door with
the other, bade the coachman drive on.

"I suppose you have never been to Ion,
Elsie?" he said, inquiringly.

ELSIE DINSMORE 101

"No, sir; but I have heard Aunt Adelaide
say she thought it a very pretty place," replied
the little girl.

"So it is — almost as pretty as Roselands,"
said her father. "Travilla and I have known
each other from boyhood, and I spent many a
happy day at Ion, and we had many a boyish
frolic together, before I ever thought of you."

He smiled, and patted her cheek as he spoke.

Elsie's eyes sparkled. "O papa!" she said,
eagerly ; "won't you tell me about those times?
It seems so strange that you ever were a little
boy and I was nowhere."

He laughed. Then said, musingly, "It seems
but a very little while to me, Elsie, since I
was no older than you are now."

He heaved a sigh, and relapsed into silence.

Elsie wished very much that he would grant
her request, but did not dare to disturb him
by speaking a word ; and they rode on quietly
for some time, until a squirrel darting up a
tree caught her eye, and she uttered an excla-
mation. "O papa! did you see that squirrel*?
Look at him now, perched up on that branch.
There, we have passed the tree, and now he
is out of sight."

This reminded Mr. Dinsmore of a day he
had spent in those woods hunting squirrels,
when quite a boy, and he gave Elsie nn ani-

102 ELSIE DINSMORE

mated account of it. One of the incidents of
the day had been the accidental discharge of
the fowling-piece of one of his young com-
panions, close at Horace Dinsmore 's side,
missing him by but a hair's breadth.

"I felt faint and sick when I knew how
near I had been to death," he said, as he fin-
ished his narrative.

Elsie had been listening with breathless
interest.

"Dear papa," she murmured, laying her
little cheek against his hand, "how good God
was to spare your life ! If you had been killed
I could never have had you for my papa."

"Perhaps you might have had a much bet-
ter one, Elsie," he said, gravely.

"Oh! no, papa, I wouldn't want any other,"
she replied, earnestly, pressing his hand to her
lips.

"Ah? here we are," exclaimed her father,
as at that instant the carriage turned into a
broad avenue, up which they drove quite
rapidly, and the next moment they had
stopped, the coachman had thrown open the
carriage door, and Mr. Dinsmore, springing
out, lifted his little girl in his arms and set
her down on the steps of the veranda.

"Ah! Dinsmore, how do you do? Glad to
see you, and my little friend Elsie, too. Why,

ELSIE DINSMORE 103

this is really kind," cried Mr. Travilla, in his
cheerful, hearty way, as, hurrying out to wel-
come them, he shook Mr. Dinsmore cordially
by the hand, and kissed Elsie's cheek.

"Walk in, walk in," he continued, leading
the way into the house, umy mother will be
delighted to see you both; Miss Elsie espe-
cially, for she seems to have taken a very great
fancy to her."

If Mrs. Travilla 's greeting was less boister-
ous, it certainly was not lacking in cordiality,
and she made Elsie feel at home at once ; tak-
ing off her bonnet, smoothing her hair, and
kissing her affectionately.

The gentlemen soon went out together, and
Elsie spent the morning in Mrs. Travilla 's
room, chatting with her and assisting her with
some coarse garments she was making for her
servants.

Mrs. Travilla was an earnest Christian, and
the lady and the little girl were not long in
discovering the tie which existed between
them.

Mrs. Travilla, being also a woman of great
discernment, and having known Horace Dins-
more nearly all his life, had conceived a very
correct idea of the trials and difficulties of
Elsie's situation, and without alluding to them
at all, gave her some most excellent advice,

104 ELSIE DINSMORE

which the little girl received very thankfully.

They were still chatting together when Mr.
Travilla came in, saying, "Come, Elsie, I
want to take you out to see my garden, hot-
house, etc. We will just have time before
dinner. Will you go along, mother?"

"No; I have some little matters to attend
to before dinner, and will leave you to do the
honors/ ■ replied the lady ; and taking the little
girl's hand he led her out.

"Where is papa?" asked Elsie.

"Oh! he's in the library, looking over some
new books," replied Mr, Travilla. "He always
cared more for books than anything else. But
what do you think of my flowers ?"

"Oh! they are lovely! What a variety you
have! what a splendid cape- jessamine that is,
and there is a variety of cactus I never saw
before! Oh! you have a great many more,
and handsomer, I think, than we have at Rose-
lands," exclaimed Elsie, as she passed admir-
ingly from one to another.

Mr. Travilla was much pleased with the
admiration she expressed, for he was very
fond of his flowers, and took great pride in
showing them.

But they were soon called in to dinner,
where Elsie was seated by her father.

"I hope this little girl has not given you

ELSIE DINSMORE 105

any trouble, Mrs. Travilla," said he, looking
gravely at her.

"Oh! no," the lady hastened to say, "I have
enjoyed her coming very much indeed, and
hope you will bring her to see me again very
soon."

After dinner, as the day was very warm,
they adjourned to the veranda, which was the
coolest place to be found ; it being on the shady
side of the house, and also protected by thick
trees, underneath which a beautiful fountain
was playing.

But the conversation was upon some sub-
ject which did not interest Elsie, and she pres-
ently stole away to the library, and seating
herself in a corner of the sofa, was soon lost
to everything around her in the intense inter-
est with which she was reading a book she had
taken from the table.

"Ah! that is what you are about, Miss Elsie !
a bookworm, just like your father, I see. I
had been wondering what had become of you
for the last two hours," exclaimed Mr. Tra-
villa 's pleasant voice ; and, sitting down beside
her, he took the book from her hand, and put-
ting it behind him, said, "Put it away now;
you will have time enough to finish it, and I
want you to talk to me."

"Oh! please let me have it," she pleaded.

106 ELSIE DINSMORE

a

I shall not have much time, for papa will
soon be calling me to go home."

"No, no, he is not to take you away; I have
made a bargain with him to let me keep you,"
said Mr. Travilla, very gravely. "We both
think that there are children enough at Rose-
lands without you ; and so your papa has given
you to me; and you are to be my little girl,
and call me papa in future."

Elsie gazed earnestly in his face for an in-
stant, saying in a half -frightened tone, "You
are only joking, Mr. Travilla."

"Not a bit of it," said he; "can't you see
that I'm in earnest?"

His tone and look were both so serious that
for an instant Elsie believed he meant all that
he was saying, and springing to her feet with
a little cry of alarm, she hastily withdrew her
hand which he had taken, and rushing out
to the veranda, where her father still sat con-
versing with Mrs. Travilla, she flung herself
into his arms, and clinging to him, hid her
face on his breast, sobbing, "O papa, dear
papa ! don't give me away ; please don't — I will
be so good— I will do everything you bid me
—I "

"Why, Elsie, what does all this mean?"
exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore, in great surprise and
perplexity; while Mr. Travilla stood in the

ELSIE DINSMORE 107

doorway looking half amused, half sorry for
what he had done.

"O papa!" sobbed the little girl, still cling-
ing to him as though fearing she should be
torn from his arms, "Mr. Travilla says you
have given me to him. O papa! don't give me
away."

"Pooh! nonsense, Elsie! I am ashamed of
you ! How can you be so very silly as to believe
for one moment anything so perfectly absurd
as that I should think of giving you away?
Why, I would as soon think of parting with
my eyes."

Elsie raised her head and gazed searchingly
into his face; then, with a deep-drawn sigh
of relief, dropped it again, saying, "Oh! I am
so glad."

"Really, Miss Elsie," said Travilla, coming
up and patting her on the shoulder, "I can't
say that I feel much complimented; and, in-
deed, I don't see why you need have been so
very much distressed at the prospect before
you; for I must say I have vanity enough to
imagine that I should make the better — or, at
least, the more indulgent — father of the two.
Come, now, wouldn't you be willing to try me
for a month, if your papa will give consent?"

Elsie shook her head.

"I will let you have your own way in every-

108 ELSIE DINSMORE

thing/' urged Travilla, coaxingly; "and I
know that is more than he does."

"I don't want my own way, Mr. Travilla;
I know it wouldn't always be a good way,"
replied Elsie, decidedly.

Her father laughed and passed his hand
caressingly over her curls.

"I thought you liked me, little Elsie," said
Travilla, in a tone of disappointment.

"So I do, Mr. Travilla; I like you very
much," she replied.

"Well, don't you think I would make a good
father?"

"I am sure you would be very kind, and
that I should love you very much ; but not so
much as I love my own papa; because, you
know, you are not my papa, and never can be,
even if he should give me to you."

Mr. Dinsmore laughed heartily, saying, "I
think you may as well give it up, Travilla; it
seems I'll have to keep her whether or no, for
she clings to me like a leech."

"Well, Elsie, you will at least come to the
piano and play a little for me, will you not?"
asked Travilla, smiling.

But Elsie still clung to her father, seeming
loath to leave him, until he said, in his grave,
decided way, "Go, Elsie; go at once, and do
as you are requested."

ELSIE DINSMORE 109

Then she rose instantly to obey.

Travilla looked somewhat vexed. ' ' I wish, ' '
he afterward remarked to his mother, "that
Dinsmore was not quite so ready to second my
requests with his commands. I want Elsie's
compliance to be voluntary; else I think it
worth very little. "

Elsie played and sang until they were called
to tea; after which she sat quietly by her
father's side, listening to the conversation of
her elders until the carriage was announced.

"Well, my daughter," said Mr. Dinsmore,
when they were fairly upon their way to Rose-
lands, "have you had a pleasant day?"

"Oh, very pleasant, papa, excepting "

She paused, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well, excepting what?" he asked, smiling
down at her.

"Excepting when Mr. Travilla frightened
me so, papa," she replied, moving closer to his
side, blushing and casting down her eyes.

"And you do love your own papa best, and
don't want to exchange him for another?" he
said inquiringly, as he passed his arm affec-
tionately around her waist.

"Oh! no, dear papa, not for anybody else in
all the world," she said, earnestly.

He made no reply in words, but, looking

110 ELSIE DINSMORE

highly gratified, bent down and kissed her
cheek.

He did not speak again during their ride,

but when the carriage stopped he lifted her

out, and setting her gently down, bade her a

, kind good-night, saying it was time for

mammy to put her to bed.

She ran lightly upstairs, and springing into
her nurse's arms, exclaimed: "O mammy,
mammy ! what a pleasant, pleasant day I have
had ! Papa has been so kind, and so were Mr.
Travilla and his mother."

"I's bery glad, darlin', an' I hope you
gwine hab many more such days," replied
Chloe, embracing her fondly and then proceed-
ing to take off her bonnet and prepare her for
bed, while Elsie gave her a minute account of
all the occurrences of the day, not omitting
the fright Mr. Travilla had given her, and
how happily her fears had been relieved.

"You look bery happy, my darlin' pet,"
said Chloe, clasping her nursling again in her
arms when her task was finished.

"Yes, mammy, I am happy, oh! so happy,
because I do believe that papa is beginning to
love me a little, and I hope that perhaps, after
a while, he will love me very much."

The tears gathered in her eyes as she spoke.

ELSIE DINSMORE 111

The next afternoon, as Elsie was returning
from her walk, she met her father.

"Elsie," said he, in a reproving tone, "I
have forbidden you to walk out alone ; are you
disobeying me ? ' '

"No, papa," she replied meekly, raising her
eyes to his face, "I was not alone until about
five minutes ago, when Aunt Adelaide and
Louise left me. They said it did not matter,
as I was so near home ; and they were going to
make a call, and did not want me along."

"Very well," he said, taking hold of her
hand and making her walk by his side. "How
far have you been?"

"We went down the river bank to the big
spring, papa. I believe it is a little more than
a mile that way ; but when we came home, we
made it shorter by coming across some of the
fields and through the meadow."

"Through the meadow?" asked Mr. Dins-
more; "don't you go there again, Elsie, unless
I give you express permission."

"Why, papa?" she asked, looking up at
him in some surprise.

"Because I forbid it," he replied, sternly;
"that is quite enough for you to know. All
you have to do is to obey, and you need never
ask me why, when I give you an order."

112 ELSIE DINSMORE

Elsie's eyes filled and a big tear rolled
quickly down her cheek.

"I did not mean to be naughty, papa," she
said, struggling to keep down a sob, "and I
will try never to ask why again."

"There is another thing," said he. "You
cry quite too easily ; it is entirely too babyish
for a girl of your age — you must quit it."

"I will try, papa," said the little girl,
wiping her eyes, and making a great effort to
control her feelings.

They had entered the avenue while this con-
versation was going on, and were now drawing
near the house ; and just at this moment a little
girl about Elsie's age came running to meet
them, exclaiming: "O Elsie! I'm glad you've
come at last. We've been here a whole hour —
mamma, and Herbert, and I — and I've been
looking for you all this time."

"How do you do, Miss Lucy Carrington?
I see you can talk as fast as ever," said Mr.
Dinsmore, laughing, and holding out his hand.

Lucy took it, saying with a little pout, "To
be sure, Mr. Dinsmore, it isn't more than two
or three weeks since you were at our house,
and I wouldn't forget how to talk in that
time." Then, looking at Elsie, she went on,
"We've come to stay a week; won't we have a

ELSIE DINSMORE 113

fine time?" and, catching her friend round the
waist, she gave her a hearty squeeze.

"I hope so," said Elsie, returning the em-
brace. "I am glad you have come.'*

"Is your papa here, Miss Lucy?" asked Mr.
Dinsmore.

"Yes, sir; but he's going home again to-
night, and then he'll come back for us next
week."

"I must go in and speak to him," said Mr.
Dinsmore. "Elsie, do you entertain Lucy."

"Yes, sir, I will," said Elsie. "Come with
me to my room, won't you, Lucy?"

"Yes ; but won't you speak to mamma first?
and Herbert, too ; you are such a favorite with
both of them ; and they still are in the dressing-
room, for mamma is not very well, and was
quite fatigued with her ride."

Lucy led the way to her mamma's room, as
she spoke, Elsie following.

"Ah! Elsie dear, how do you do? I'm de-
lighted to see you," said Mrs. Carrington,
rising from the sofa as they entered.

Then, drawing the little girl closer to her,
she passed her arm affectionately around her
waist, and kissed her several times.

"I suppose you are very happy now that
your papa has come home at last?" she said,
looking searchingly into Elsie's face. "I re-

114 ELSIE DINSMORE

member you used to be looking forward so to
Ms return — constantly talking iof it and
longing for it."

Poor Elsie, conscious that her father's pres-
ence had not brought with it the happiness she
had anticipated, and yet unwilling either to
acknowledge that fact or tell an untruth, was
at a loss what to say.

But she was relieved from the necessity of
replying by Herbert, Lucy's twin brother, a
pale, sickly-looking boy, who had for several
years been a sufferer from hip complaint.

uO Elsie!" he exclaimed, catching hold of
her hand and squeezing it between both of his,
"I'm ever so glad to see you again."

"Yes," said Mrs. Carrington, " Herbert al-
ways says nobody can tell hhn such beautiful
stories as Elsie; and nobody but his mother
and his old mammy was half so kind to run
and wait on him when he was laid on his back
for so many weeks. He missed you very much
when we went home, and often wished he was
at Roselands again."

"How is your hip now, Herbert?" asked
Elsie, looking pityingly at the boy's pale face.

"Oh, a great deal better, thank you. I can
take quite long walks sometimes now, though
I still limp, and cannot run and leap like other
boys."

ELSIE DINSMORE 115

They chatted a few moments longer, and
then Elsie went to her room to have her hat
taken off, and her hair made smooth before
the tea-bell should ring.

The two little girls were seated together at
the table, Elsie 's papa being on her other side.

"How nice these muffins are! Don't you
like them, Elsie?" asked Lucy, as she helped
herself to a third or fourth.

"Yes, very much," said Elsie, cheerfully.

"Then what are you eating that cold bread
for? and you haven't got any butter, either.
Pompey, why don't you hand Miss Elsie the
butter?"

"No, Lucy, I mustn't have it. Papa does
not allow me to eat hot cakes or butter," said
Elsie, in the same cheerful tone in which she
had spoken before.

Lucy opened her eyes very wide, and drew
in her breath.

"Well," she exclaimed, "I guess if my papa
should try that on me, I'd make such a fuss
he'd have to let me eat just whatever I
wanted."

"Elsie knows better than to do that," said
Mr. Dinsmore, who had overheard the con-
versation ; "she would only get sent away from
the table and punished for her naughtiness,"

116 ELSIE DINS MO RE

"I wouldn't do it anyhow, papa," said Elsie,
raising her eyes beseechingly to his face.

"No, daughter, I don't believe you would,"
he replied in an unusually kind tone, and
Elsie's face flushed with pleasure.

Several days passed away very pleasantly,
Lucy sharing Elsie's studies in the mornings,
while Herbert remained with his mamma ; and
then in the afternon all walking or riding out
together, unless the weather was too warm,
when they spent the afternoon playing on the
veranda, on the shady side of the house, and
took their ride or walk after the sun was down.

Arthur and Walter paid but little attention
to Herbert, as his lameness prevented him
from sharing in the active sports which they
preferred ; for they had never been taught to
yield their wishes to others, and were conse-
quently extremely selfish and overbearing.
But Elsie was very kind, and did all in her
power to interest and amuse him.

One afternoon they all walked out together,
attended by Jim ; but Arthur and Walter, un-
willing to accommodate their pace to Herbert's
slow movements, were soon far in advance,
Jim following close at their heels.

"They're quite out of sight," said Herbert,
presently, "and I'm very tired. Let's sit
down on this bank, girls ; I want to try my new

ELSIE DINSMORE 117

bow, and you may run and pick up my arrows
for me."

" Thank you, sir," said Lucy, laughing;
" Elsie may do it if she likes, but as for me, I
mean to take a nap ; this nice, soft grass will
make an elegant couch"; and, throwing her-
self down, she soon was, or pretended to be, in
a sound slumber ; while Herbert, seating him-
self with his back against a tree, amused him-
self with shooting his arrows here and there,
Elsie running for them and bringing them to
him, until she was quite heated and out of
breath.

"Now I must rest a little, Herbert," she
said at length, sitting down beside him. "Shall
I tell you a story?"

" Oh ! yes, do ; I like your stories, and I don't
mind leaving off shooting till you're done,"
said he, laying down his bow.

Elsie's story lasted about ten minutes, and
when she had finished, Herbert took up his
bow again, saying, "I guess you're rested now,
Elsie," and sent an arrow over into the
meadow

"There! just see how far I sent that! Do
run and bring it to me, Elsie!" he cried, "and
let me see if I can't hit that tree next time;
I've just missed it."

"I'm tired. Herbert; but I'll run and bring

118 ELSIE DINSMORE

it to you this once," replied Elsie, forgetting
entirely her father's prohibition; "but then
you must try to wait until Jim comes back
before you shoot any more."

So saying, she darted away, and came back
in a moment, with the arrow in her hand. But
a sudden recollection had come over her just as
she left the meadow, and throwing down the
arrow at the boy's feet, she exclaimed in an
agitated tone: "O Herbert! I must go home
just as quickly as I can ; I had forgotten— oh !
how could I forget! oh! what will papa say?"

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Herbert,
in alarm.

"Never mind," said Elsie, sobbing, "there
are the boys coming; they will take care of
you, and I must go home. Good-bye."

And she ran quickly up the road, Herbert
following her retreating form with wondering
eyes.

Elsie sped onward, crying bitterly as she
went.

"Where is papa?" she inquired of a serv-
ant whom she met in the avenue.

"Dunno, Miss Elsie, but I reckon Massa
Horace am in de house> kase his horse am in
de stable."

Elsie hardly waited for the answer, but hur-
rying into the house, went from room to room,

ELSIE DINSMORE 119

looking and asking in vain for her father. He
was not in the drawing-room, or the library,
or his own apartments. She had just come out
of this, and meeting a chambermaid in the
hall, she exclaimed, "O Fanny ! where is papa?
Can't you tell me, for I must see him?"

"Here I am, Elsie; what do you want with
mef called out her father's voice from the
veranda, where she had neglected to look.

"What do you want?" he repeated, as his
little girl appeared before him with her
flushed and tearful face. Elsie moved slowly
toward him, with a timid air and downcast
eyes.

"I wanted to tell you something, papa," she
said, in a low, tremulous tone.

"Well, I am listening," said he, taking hold
of her hand and drawing her to his side.
"What is it — are you sick or hurt?"

"No, papa, not either; but — but, O papa! I
have been a very naughty girl," she exclaimed,
bursting into tears, and sobbing violently. "I
disobeyed you, papa. I— X have been in the
meadow."

"Is it possible? Would you dare to do so
when I so positively forbade it only the other
day?" he said, in his sternest tone, while a
dark frown gathered on his brow. "Elsie, I
shall have to punish you."

120 ELSIE DINSMORE

"I did not intend to disobey you, papa," she
sobbed ; "I quite forgot that you had forbidden
me to go there."

"That is no excuse, no excuse at all," said
he, severely. "You must remember my com-
mands ; and if your memory is so poor I shall
find means to strengthen it."

He paused a moment, still looking sternly
at the little, trembling, sobbing girl at his side ;
then asked, "What were you doing in the
meadow ? Tell me the whole story, that I may
understand just how severely I ought to
punish you."

Elsie gave him all the particulars ; and when
upon questioning her closely, he perceived
how entirely voluntary her confession had
been, his tone and manner became less stern,
and he said quite mildly: "Well, Elsie, I shall
not be very severe with you this time, as you
seem to be very penitent, and have made so
full and frank a confession; but beware how
you disobey me again, for you will not escape
so easily another time. And, remember, I will
not take forgetfulness as an excuse. Go now
to Aunt Chloe, and tell her from me that she
is to put you immediately to bed."

"It is only the middle of the afternoon,
papa," said Elsie, deprecatingly.

"If it were much earlier, Elsie, it would

ELSIE DINSMORE 121

make no difference; you must go at once to
your bed, and stay there until to-morrow
morning."

"What will Lucy and Herbert think when
they come in and can't find me, papa?" she
said, weeping afresh.

"You should have thought of that before
you disobeyed me," he answered, very gravely.
"If you are hungry," he added, "you may ask
Chloe to get you a slice of bread or a cracker
for your supper, but you can have nothing
else."

Elsie lingered, looking timidly up into his
face as though wanting to say something, but
afraid to venture.

"Speak, Elsie, if you have anything more
to say," he said, encouragingly.

"Dear papa, I am so sorry I have been so
naughty," she murmured, leaning her head
against the arm of his chair, while the tears
rolled fast down her cheeks; "won't you
please forgive me, papa? It seems to me I
can't go to sleep to-night if you are angry with
me."

He seemed quite touched by her penitence.
"Yes, Elsie," he said, "I do forgive you. I
am not at all angry with you now, and you
may go to sleep in peace. Good-night, my little

122 ELSIE DINSMORE

daughter," and he bent down and pressed his
lips to her brow.

Elsie held up her face for another, and he
kissed her lips.

1 ' Good-night, dear papa, ' ' she said. * ' I hope
I shall never be such a naughty girl again."
And she went to her room, made almost happy
by that loss of forgiveness.

Elsie was up quite early the next morning
and had learned all her lessons before break-
fast. As she came down the stairs she saw,
through the open door, her papa standing with
some of the men-servants, apparently gazing
at some object lying on the ground. She ran
out and stood on the steps of the portico, look-
ing at them and wondering what they were
doing.

Presently her father turned round, and, see-
ing her, held out his hand, calling, "Come
here, Elsie."

She sprang quickly down the steps, and run-
ning to him, put her hand in his, saying,
"Good morning, papa."

"Good morning, daughter," said he, "I
have something to show you."

And leading her forward a few paces, he
pointed to a large rattlesnake lying there.

"O papa!" she cried, starting back and
clinging to him.

ELSIE DINSMORE 123

"It will not hurt you now/' he said; "it is
dead. The men killed it this morning in the
meadow. Do you see now why I forbade you
to go there !"

"O papa!" she murmured, in a low tone of
deep feeling, laying her cheek affectionately
against his hand, "I might have lost my life by
my disobedience. How good God was to take
care of me! Oh! I hope I shall never be
so naughty again."

"I hope not," said he, gravely, but not un-
kindly; "and I hope that you will always,
after this, believe that your father has some
good reason for his commands, even although
he may not choose to explain it to you."

"Yes, papa, I think I will," she answered,
humbly.

The breakfast-bell had rung, and he now
led her in and seated her at the table.

Lucy Carrington looked curiously at her,
and soon took an opportunity to whisper,
"Where were you last night, Elsie? I couldn't
find you, and your papa wouldn't say what
had become of you, though I am quite sure he
knew."

"I'll tell you after breakfast," replied El-
sie, blushing deeply.

Lucy waited rather impatiently until all had
risen from the table, and then, putting her arm

124 KLSIE DINSMORE

round Elsie's waist, she drew her out on to the
veranda, saying, "Now, Elsie, tell me; you
know, you promised."

"I was in bed," replied Elsie, dropping her
eyes, while the color mounted to her very hair.

"In bed! Before five o'clock!" exclaimed
Lucy in a tone of astonishment. "Why, what
was that for?"

"Papa sent me," replied Elsie, with an ef-
fort. "I had been naughty, and disobeyed
him."

"Why, how strange! Do tell me what you
had done!" exclaimed Lucy, with a face full
of curiosity.

"Papa had forbidden me to go into the
meadow, and I forgot all about it, and ran in
there to get Herbert's arrow for him," replied
Elsie, looking very much ashamed.

"Was that all? Why, my papa wouldn't
have punished me for that," said Lucy. "He
might have scolded me a little if I had done
it on purpose, but if I had told him I had for-
gotten he would only have said, 'You must
remember better next time.' "

"Papa says that forgetfulness is no excuse;
that I am to remember his commands, and if
I forget, he will have to punish me, to make me
remember better next time," said Elsie.

"He must be very strict indeed; I'm glad

ELSIE DINSMORE 125

he is not my papa," replied Lucy, in a tone
of great satisfaction.

"Come, little girls, make haste and get
ready; we are to start in half an hour," said
Adelaide Dinsmore, calling to them from the
hall door.

The whole family, old and young, including
visitors, were on that day to go on a picnic up
the river, taking their dinner along, and spend-
ing the day in the woods. They had been
planning this excursion for several days, and
the children especially had been looking for-
ward to it with a great deal of pleasure.

"Am I to go, Aunt Adelaide? Did papa say
so?" asked Elsie, anxiously, as she and Lucy
hastened to obey the summons.

"I presume you are to go, of course, Elsie;
we have been discussing the matter for the last
three days, always taking it for granted that
you were to make one of the party, and he has
never said you should not," replied Adelaide,
good-naturedly; "so make haste, or you will
be too late. But here comes your papa now,"
she added, as the library door opened, and Mr.
Dinsmore stepped out into the hall where they
were standing.

"Horace, Elsie is to go, of course?"

"I do not see the of coarse. Adelaide," said
he, dryly. "No; Elsie is not to go; she must

126 ELSIE DINSMORE

stay at home and attend to her lessons as
usual.' '

A look of deep disappointment came over
Elsie's face, but she turned away without a
word and went upstairs ; while Lucy, casting a
look of wrathful indignation at Mr. Dinsmore,
ran after her, and following her into her room,
she put her arm round her neck, saying,
■;- Never mind, Elsie; it's too bad, and I
wouldn't bear it. I'd go in spite of him."

"No, no, Lucy, I must obey my father; God
says so. And, besides, I couldn't do that if I
wanted to, for papa is stronger than I am, and
would punish me severely if I were to attempt
such a thing," replied Elsie, hastily, brushing
away a tear that would come into her eye.

"Then I'd coax him," said Lucy. "Come,
I'll go with you, and we will both try."

"No," replied Elsie, with a hopeless shake
of the head, "I have found out already that my
papa never breaks his word; and nothing
could induce him to let me go, now that he has
once said I should not. But you will have to
leave me, Lucy, or you will be too late."

"Good-bye, then," said Lucy, turning to go ;
"but I think it is a great shame, and I sha'n't
half enjoy myself without you."

"Well now, Horace, I think you might let
the child go," was Adelaide's somewhat indig-

ELSIE DINSMORE 127

nant rejoinder to her brother, as the two little
girls disappeared; "I can't conceive what
reason you can have for keeping her at home,
and she looks so terribly disappointed. In-
deed, Horace, I am sometimes half inclined
to think you take pleasure in thwarting that
child.,,

"You had better call me a tyrant at once,
Adelaide/' said he, angrily, and turning very
red; "but I must beg to be permitted to man-
age my own child in my own way ; and I can-
not see that I am under any obligation to give
my reasons either to you or to anyone else."

"Well, if you did not intend to let her go, I
think you might have said so at first, and not
left the poor child to build her hopes upon it,
only to be disappointed. I must say I think it
was cruel."

"Until this morning, Adelaide," he replied,
"I did intend to let her go, for I expected to
go myself ; but I find I shall not be able to do
so, as I must meet a gentleman on business;
and as I know that accidents frequently occur
to such pleasure parties, I don't feel willing
to let Elsie go, unless I could be there myself
to take care of her. Whether you believe it or
not, it is really regard for my child's safety,
and not cruelty, that leads me to refuse her
this gratification."

128 ELSIE DINSMORE

"You are full of notions about that child,
Horace," said Adelaide, a little impatiently.
"I'm sure some of the rest of us could take
care of her."

"No; in case of accident you would all have
enough to do to take care of yourselves, and
I shall not think of trusting Elsie in the com-
pany, since I cannot be there myself," he
answered, decidedly; and Adelaide, seeing he
was not to be moved from his determination,
gave up the attempt, and left the room to pre-
pare for her ride.

It was a great disappointment to Elsie, and
for a few moments her heart rose up in rebel-
lion against her father. She tried to put away
the feeling, but it would come back; for she
could not imagine any reason for his refusal
to let her go, excepting the disobedience of the
day before, and it seemed hard and unjust to
punish her twice for the same fault, especially
as he would have known nothing about it but
for her own frank and voluntary confession.
It was a great pity she had not heard the
reasons he gave her Aunt Adelaide, for then
she would have been quite submissive and con-
tent. It is indeed true that she ought to have
been as it was ; but our little Elsie, though sin-
cerely desirous to do right, was not yet perfect,

ELSIE DINSMORE 129

and had already strangely forgotten the les-
son of the morning.

She watched from the veranda the depar-
ture of the pleasure-seekers, all apparently in
the gayest spirits. She was surprised to see
that her father was not with them, and it half
reconciled her to staying at home, although she
hardly expected to see much of him ; but there
was something pleasant in the thought that
he wanted her at home because he was to be
there himself — it looked as though he really
had some affection for her, and even a selfish
love was better than none. I do not mean that
these were Elsie's thoughts; no, she never
would have dreamed of calling her father
selfish ; but the undefined feeling was there, as
she watched him hand the ladies into the car-
riage, and then turn and re-enter the house as
they drove off.

But Miss Day's bell rang, and Elsie gath-
ered up her books and hastened to the school-
room. Her patience and endurance were
sorely tried that morning, for Miss Day was in
an exceedingly bad humor, being greatly mor-
tified and also highly indignant that she had
not been invited to make one of the picnic
party; and Elsie had never found her more
unreasonable and difficult to please; and her
incessant fault-finding and scolding were

130 ELSIE DINSMORE

almost more than the little girl could bear in
addition to her own sad disappointment. But
at last the morning, which had seldom seemed
so long, was over, and Elsie dismissed from the
school-room for the day.

At dinnei, instead of the usual large party,
there were only her father and the gentleman
with whom he was transacting business, Miss
Day, and herself.

The gentleman was not one of those who
care to notice children, but continued to dis-
cuss business and politics with Mr. Dinsmore,
without seeming to be in the least aware of the
presence of the little girl, who sat in perfect
silence, eating whatever her father saw fit to
put upon her plate; and Elsie was very glad
indeed when at length Miss Day rose to leave
the table, and her papa told her she might go,
too.

He called her back, though, before she had
gone across the room, to say that he had in-
tended to ride with her that afternoon, but
found he should not be able to do so, and she
must take Jim for a protector, as he did not
wish her either to miss her ride or to go
entirely alone.

He spoke very kindly? Elsie thought with
remorse of the rebellious feelings of the morn-
ing, and, had she been alone with her father,,

ELSIE DINSMORE 131

would certainly have confessed them, express*
ing her sorrow and asking forgiveness; but
she could not do so before a third person, more
especially a stranger; and merely saying,
"Yes, papa, I will," she turned away and left
the room. Jim was bringing up her horse as
she passed the open door, and she hastened up-
stairs to prepare for her ride.

"O mammy!" she suddenly exclaimed, as
Chloe was tying on her hat, "is Pomp going
to the city to-day?"

"Yes, darlin', he gwine start directly," said
Chloe, arranging her nursling's curls to bet-
ter advantage, and finishing her work with a
fond caress.

"Oh! then, mammy, take some money out of
my purse, and tell him to buy me a pound of
the very nicest candy he can find," said the
little girl, eagerly. "I haven't had any for a
long time, and I feel hungry for it to-day.
What they had bought for the picnic looked so
good, but, you know, I didn't get any of it."

The picnic party returned just before tea*
time, and Lucy Carrington rushed into Elsie's
room eager to tell her what a delightful day
they had had. She gave a very glowing ac-
count of their sports and entertainment,
interrupting herself every now and then to
lament over Elsie's absence, assuring her again

132 ELSIE DINSMORE

and again that it had been the only drawback
upon her own pleasure, and that she thought
that Elsie's papa was very unkind, indeed, to
refuse her permission to go. As Elsie listened
the morning's feelings of vexation and disap-
pointment returned in full force ; and, though
she said nothing, she allowed her friend to
accuse her father of cruelty and injustice with-
out offering any remonstrance.

In the midst of their talk the tea-bell rang,
and they hurried down to take their places at
the table, where Lucy went on with her narra-
tive; though in a rather subdued tone, Elsie
now and then asking a question, until Mr. Dins-
more turned to his daughter, saying, in his
stern way, "Be quiet, Elsie; you are talking
entirely too much for a child of your age;
don't let me hear you speak again until you
have left the table."

Elsie's face flushed, and her eyes fell, under
the rebuke; and during the rest of the meal
not a sound escaped her lips.

"Come, Elsie, let us go into the garden and
finish our talk," said Lucy, putting her arm
affectionately around her friend's waist, as
they left the table; "your papa can't hear us
there, and we'll have a good time."

"Papa only stopped us because we were
talking too much at the table," said Elsie,

ELSIE DINSMORE 133

apologetically; "I'm sure he is willing you
should tell me all about what a nice time you
all had. But, Lucy," she added, lowering her
voice, "please don't say again that you think
papa was unkind to keep me at home to-day.
I'm sure he knows best, and I ought not to
have listened to a word of that kind about
him. ' '

"O! well, never mind, I won't talk so any
more," said Lucy, good-naturedly, as they
skipped down the walk together; "but I d<?
think he's cross, and I wish you were my sister,;
that you might have my kind, good papa for
yours, too, ' ' she added, drawing her arm more
closely about her friend's waist.

"Thank you, Lucy," said Elsie, with a little
sigh, "I would like to be your sister, but in-
deed I would not like to give up my own dear
papa, for I love him, oh! so much."

"Why, how funny, when he's so cross to
you!" exclaimed Lucy, laughing.

Elsie put her hand over her friend's mouth,
and Lucy pushed it away, saying, "Excuse
me, I forgot; but I'll try not to say it again."

While the little girls were enjoying their
talk in the garden, a servant with a small
bundle in her hand came out on the veranda,
where Mr. Horace Dinsmore was sitting smok-
ing a cigar, and, casting an inquiring glance

134 ELSIE DINSMORE

around, asked if he knew where Miss Elsie
was.

"What do you want with her*?" he asked.

"Only to give her dis bundle, massa, dat
Pomp jus' brought from de city."

"Give it to me," he said, extending his hand
to receive it.

A few moments afterward Elsie and her
friend returned to the house, and meeting
Pomp, she asked him if he had brought her
candy.

He replied that he had got some that was
very nice indeed, and he thought that Fanny
carried it to her; and seeing Fanny near, he
sailed to her to know what she had done with it.

"Why, Pomp, Massa Horace he told me to
give it to him," said the girl.

Elsie turned away with a very disappointed
look.

"You'll go and ask him for it, won't you?"
asked Lucy, who was anxious to enjoy a share
of the candy as well as to see Elsie gratified.

"No," said Elsie, sighing, "I had rather do
without it."

Lucy coaxed for a little while, but finding it
impossible to persuade Elsie to approach her
father on the subject, finally volunteered to do
the errand herself.

Elsie readily consented, and Lucy, trem-

ELSIE DINSMORE 135^

bling a little in spite of her boast that she was
not afraid of him, walked out onto the veranda
where Mr. Dinsmore was still sitting, and put-
ting on an air of great confidence, said :

"Mr. Dinsmore, will you please to give me
Elsie's candy? — she wants it."

"Did Elsie send you?" he asked, in a cold,
grave tone.

"Yes, sir," replied Lucy, somewhat fright-
ened.

"Then, if you please, Miss Lucy, you may
tell Elsie to come directly to me."

Lucy ran back to her friend, and Elsie re-
ceived the message in some trepidation, but as
no choice was now left her, she went imme-
diately to her father.

"Did you want me, papa?" she asked,
timidly.

"Yes, Elsie; I wish to know why you send
another person to me for what you want, in-
stead of coming yourself. It displeases me
very much, and you may rest assured that you
will never get anything that you ask for in
that way."

Elsie hung her head in silence.

"Are you going to answer me ?" he asked, in
his severe tone. "Why did you send Lucy
instead of coming yourself?"

136 ELSIE DINSMORE

"I was afraid, papa," she whispered, almost
under her breath.

"Afraid! Afraid of what?" he asked, with
increasing displeasure.

"Of you? papa," she replied, in a tone so
low that he could scarcely catch the words, al-
though he bent down his ear to receive her
reply,

"If I were a drunken brute, in the habit of
knocking you about, beating and abusing you,
there might be some reason for your fear, El-
sie," he said, coloring with anger; "but, as it
is, I see no excuse for it at all, and I am both
hurt and displeased by it."

"I am very sorry, papa; I won't do so
again," she said, tremblingly.

There was a moment's pause, and then she
asked in a timid, hesitating way, "Papa, may
I have my candy, if you please ?"

"No, you may not," he said, decidedly;
"and understand and remember that I posi-
tively forbid you either to buy or eat anything
of the kind again without my express per-
mission."

Elsie's eyes filled, and she had a hard strug*
gle to keep down a rising sob as she turned
away and went slowly back to the place where
she had left her friend.

"Have you got it?" asked Lucy, eagerly.

ELSIE DINSMORE 137

Elsie shook her head.

"What a shame!" exclaimed Lucy, indig-
nantly; "he's just as cross as he can be. He's
a tyrant, so he is! just a hateful old tyrant,
and I wouldn't care a cent for him, if I were
you, Elsie. I'm glad he is not my father, so
I am."

"I'm afraid he doesn't love me much,"
sighed Elsie, in low, tearful tones, "for he
hardly ever lets me have anything, or go any-
where that I want to. "

"Well, never mind, I'll send and buy a good
lot to-morrow, and we'll have a regular feast,"
said Lucy, soothingly, as she passed her arm
around her friend's waist and drew her down
to a seat on the portico step.

"Thank you, Lucy ; you can buy for yourself
if you like, but not for me, for papa has for-
bidden me to eat anything of the sort."

"Oh! of course we'll not let him know any-
thing about it," said Lucy.

But Elsie shook her head sadly, saying with
a little sigh: "No, Lucy, you are very kind,
but I cannot disobey papa, even if he should
never know it, because that would be disobey
ing God, and He would know it."

"Dear me, how particular you are!" ex-
claimed Lucy a little pettishly.

"Elsie," said Mr. Dinsmore, speaking from

138 ELSIE DINSMORE

the door, "what are you doing there? Did I
not forbid you to be out in the evening air?"

"I did not know you meant the doorstep,
papa. I thought I was only not to go down
into the garden," replied the little girl, rising
to go in.

"I see you intend to make as near an ap-
proach to disobedience as you dare," said her
father. "Go immediately to your room, and
tell mammy to put you to bed."

Elsie silently obeyed, and Lucy, casting an
indignant glance at Mr. Dinsmore, was about
to follow her, when he said, "I wish her to go
alone, if you please, Miss Lucy"; and with a
frown and a pout, the little girl walked into
the drawing-room and seated herself on the
sofa beside her mamma.

Mr. Dinsmore walked out onto the portico,
and stood there watching the moon which was
just rising over the tree-tops.

" Horace," said Arthur, emerging from the
shadow of a tree near by and approaching his
brother, "Elsie thinks you're a tyrant. She
says you never let her have anything or go
anywhere, and you're always punishing her.
She and Lucy have had a fine time out here,
talking over your bad treatment of her, and
planning to have some candy in spite of you."

" Arthur, I do not believe that Elsie would

ELSIE DINSMORE 139

deliberately plan to disobey me ; and whatever
faults she may have, I am very sure she is
above the meanness of telling tales/ ' replied
Mr. Dinsmore, in a tone of severity, as he
turned and went into the house, while Arthur,
looking sadly crestfallen, crept away out of
sight.

When Elsie reached her room, she found
that Chloe was not there; for, not expecting
that her services would be required at so early
an hour, she had gone down to the kitchen to
have a little chat with her fellow-servants.
Elsie rang for her, and then walking to the
window, stood looking down into the garden in
an attitude of thoughtfulness and dejection.
She was mentally taking a review of the man-
ner in which she had spent the day, as was her
custom before retiring. The retrospect had
seldom been so painful to the little girl. She
had a very tender conscience, and it told her
now that she had more than once during the
day indulged in wrong feelings toward her
father; that she had also allowed another to
speak disrespectfully of Mm, giving by her
silence a tacit approval of the sentiments ut-
tered; and, more than that, had spoken com-
plainingly of him herself.

"Oh!" she murmured, half aloud, as she
covered her face with her hands, and the tears

140 ELSIE DINSMORE

trickled through her fingers, "how soon I have
forgotten the lesson papa taught me this morn-
ing, and my promise to trust him without
knowing his reasons. I don't deserve that he
should love me or be kind and indulgent, when
I am so rebellious. ' '

"What's de matter, darlin'?" asked Chloe's
voice, in pitiful tones, as she took her nursling
in her arms and laid her little head against her
bosom, passing her hand caressingly over the
soft bright curls ; "your ole mammy can't bear
to see her pet cryin' like dat."

"O mammy, mammy! I've been such a
wicked girl to-day! Oh! I'm afraid I shall
never be good, never be like Jesus. I'm afraid
He is angry with me, for I have disobeyed Him
to-day," sobbed the child.

"Darlin'," said Chloe, earnestly, "didn't
you read to your ole mammy dis very morning
dese bressed words: 'If any man sin, we have
an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the
righteous,' an' de other: 'If we confess our
sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our
sins. ' Go to de dear, bressed Lord Jesus, dar-
lin', an* ax Him to forgive you, an' I knows
He will."

"Yes, He will," replied the little girl, rais-
ing her head and dashing away her tears, "He
will forgive my sins, and take away my wicked

ELSIE DINSMORE 141

heart, and give me right thoughts and feelings.
How glad I am you remember those sweet
texts, you dear old mammy," she added, twi-
ning her arms lovingly around her nurse's
neck. And then she delivered her papa's mes-
sage, and Chloe began at once to prepare her
for bed.

Elsie's tears had ceased to flow, but they
were still trembling in her eyes, and the little
face wore a very sad and troubled expression
as she stood patiently passive in her nurse's
hands. Chloe had soon finished her labors,
and then the little girl opened her Bible, and,
as usual, read a few verses aloud, though her
voice trembled, and once or twice a tear fell
on the page; then closing the book, she stole
away to the side of the bed and knelt down.

She was a good while on her knees, and sev-
eral times, as the sound of a low sob fell upon
Chloe 's ear, she sighed and murmured to her-
self: "Poor darlin'! dear, bressed lamb, your
ole mammy don't like to hear dat."

Then as the child rose from her kneeling
posture she went to her, and taking her in her
arms, folded her in a fond embrace, calling
her by the most tender and endearing epithets,
and telling her that her old mammy loved her
better than life — better than anything in the
wide world.

142 ELSIE DINSMORE

Elsie flung her arms around her nurse's
neck, and laid her head upon her bosom, say-
ing, "Yes, my dear old mammy, I know you
love me, and I love you, too. But put me in
bed now, or papa will be displeased."

"What makes you so onrestless, darlin'?"
asked Chloe, half an hour afterward; "can't
you go to sleep no how?"

"O mammy! if I could only see papa just
for one moment to tell him something. Do you
think he would come to me?" sighed the little
girl. "Please, mammy, go down and see if he
is busy. Don't say a word if he is; but if not,
ask him to come to me for just one minute."

Chloe left the room immediately, but re-
turned the next moment, saying: "I jes
looked into de parlor, darlin', an' Mass Horace
he mighty busy playin' chess wid Miss Lucy's
mamma, an' I didn't say nuffin' to him. Jes
you go sleep, my pet, an' tell Mass Horace
all 'bout it in de mornin'."

Elsie sighed deeply, and turning over on her
pillow, cried herself to sleep.

Chloe was just putting the finishing touches
to the little girl's dress the next morning when
Lucy Carrington rapped at the door.

"Good-morning, Elsie," she said, "I was in
a hurry to come to you, because it is my last
day, you know. Wasn't it too bad of your

ELSIE DINSMORE 14S

father to send you off to bed so early last
night?"

"No, Lucy, papa has a right to send me to
bed whenever he pleases; and, besides, I was
naughty and deserved to be punished; and it
was not much more than half an hour earlier
than my usual bedtime."

"You naughty!" exclaimed Lucy, opening
her eyes very wide. "Mamma often says she
wishes I was half as good."

Elsie sighed, but made no answer. Her
thoughts seemed far away. She was thinking
of what she had been so anxious, the night be-
fore, to say to her father, and trying to gain
courage to do it this morning. "If I could
only get close to him when nobody was by,
and he would look and speak kindly to me, I
could do it, then," she murmured to herself.

"Come, Aunt Chloe, aren't you done? I
want to have a run in the garden before break-
fast," said Lucy, somewhat impatiently, as
Chloe tied and untied Elsie's sash several
times.

"Well, Miss Lucy, I'se done now," she
answered, passing her hand once more over
her nursling's curls; "but Mass Horace he
mighty pertickler 'bout Miss Elsie."

"Yes," said Elsie, "papa wants me always
to look very nice and neat ; and when I go down

144 ELSIE DINSMORE

in the morning lie just gives me one glance
from head to foot, and if anything is wrong he
is sure to see it and send me back immediately
to have it made right. Now, mammy, please
give me my hat and let us go."

"You's got plenty ob time, chillens; de bell
won't go for to ring dis hour," remarked the
old nurse, tying on Elsie's hat.

"My chile looks sweet an' fresh as a moss
rosebud dis mornin'," she added, talking to
herself, as she watched the two little girls trip-
ping downstairs hand in hand.

They skipped up and down the avenue sev-
eral times, and ran all round the garden before
it was time to go in. Then Elsie went up to
Chloe to have her hair made smooth again.
She was just descending for the second time to
the hall, where she had left Lucy, when they
saw a carriage drive up to the front door.

"There's papa!" cried Lucy, joyfully, as it
stopped and a gentleman sprang out and came
up the steps into the portico ; and in an instant
she was in his arms, receiving such kisses and
caresses as Elsie had vainly longed for all her
life.

Lucy had several brothers, but was an only
daughter, and a very great pet, especially with
her father.

ELSIE DINSMORE 145

Elsie watched them with a wistful look and
a strange aching at her heart.

But presently Mr. Carrington set Lucy down
and turning to her, gave her a shake of the
hand, and then a kiss, saying, "How do you do
this morning, my dear? I'm afraid you are
hardly glad to see me, as I come to take Lucy
away, for I suppose you have been having fine
times together."

"Yes, sir, indeed we have; and I hope you
will let her come again."

"Oh! yes, certainly; but the visits must not
be all on one side. I shall talk to your papa
about it, and perhaps persuade him to let us
take you along this afternoon to spend a week
at Ashlands."

"Oh! how delightful!" cried Lucy, clapping
her hands; "Elsie, do you think he will let
you go?"

"I don't know — I'm afraid not," replied
the little girl doubtfully. ,

"You must coax him, as I do my papa," said
Lucy.

But at this Elsie only shook her head, and
just then the breakfast-bell rang.

Mr. Dinsmore was already in the breakfast-
room, and Elsie, going up to him, said, "Good-
morning, papa."

"Good-morning, Elsie," he replied; but his

146 ELSIE DINSMORE

tone was so cold that even if no one else had
been by, she could not have said another word.

He had not intended to be influenced by the
information Arthur had so maliciously given
him the night before; yet unconsciously he
was, and his manner to his little daughter was
many degrees colder than it had been for some
time.

After breakfast Lucy reminded Elsie of a
promise she had made to show her some beau-
tiful shells which her father had collected in
his travels, and Elsie led the way to the cabi-
net, a small room opening into the library, and
filled with curiosities

They had gone in alone, but were soon fol-
lowed by Arthur, "Walter and Enna.

Almost everything in the room belonged to
Mr. Horace Dinsmore; and Elsie, knowing
that many of the articles were rare and costly,
and that he was very careful of them, begged
Enna and the boys to go out, lest they should
accidentally do some mischief.

"I won't," replied Arthur. "I've just as
good a right to be here as you."

As he spoke he gave her a push, which almost
knocked her over, and catching at a table to
save herself from falling, she threw down a
beautiful vase of rare old china, which Mr.
Dinsmore prized very highly. It fell with a

ELSIE DINSMORE 147

loud crash, and lay scattered in fragments at
their feet.

"There, see what you done!" exclaimed
Arthur, as the little group stood aghast at the
mischief.

It happened that Mr. Dinsmore was just
then in the library, and the noise soon brought
him upon the scene of action.

"Who did this?" he asked, in a wrathful
tone, looking from one to the other.

"Elsie," said Arthur; "she threw it down
and broke it."

"Troublesome, careless child! I would not
have taken a hundred dollars for that vase,"
he exclaimed. "Go to your room! go this in-
stant, and stay there until I send for you ; and
remember, if you ever come in here again
without my permission I shall punish you."

He opened the door as he spoke, and Elsie
flew across the hall, up the stairs, and into her
own room, without once pausing or looking
back.

"Now go out, every one of you, and don't
come in here again; this is no place for chil-
dren," said Mr. Dinsmore, turning the others
into the hall and shutting and locking the door
upon them.

"You ought to be ashamed, Arthur Dins-
more," exclaimed Lucy, indignantly; "it was

148 ELSIE DINSMORE

all your own fault, and Elsie was not to blame
at all, and you know it."

"T didn't touch the old vase, and I'm not
igoing to take the blame of it, either, I can tell
you, miss," replied Arthur, moving off, fol-
lowed by Walter and Enna, while Lucy walked
to the other end of the hall, and stood looking
out of the window, debating in her own mind
whether she had sufficient courage to face Mr.
Dinsmore, and make him understand where
the blame of the accident ought to lie.

At length she seemed to have solved the
question; for, turning about and moving
noiselessly down the passage to the library
door, she gave a timid little rap, which was
immediately answered by Mr. Dinsmore 's
voice, saying, "Come in."

Lucy opened the door and walked in, clos-
ing it after her.

Mr. Dinsmore sat at a table writing, and
he looked up with an expression of mingled
surprise and impatience.

"What do you want, Miss Lucy?" he said.
"Speak quickly, for I am very busy."

"I just wanted to tell you, sir," replied
Lucy, speaking up quite boldly, "that Elsie
was not at all to blame about the vase ; for it
was Arthur who pushed her and made her fall

ELSIE DINSMORE 149

against the table, and that was the way the
vase came to fall and break."

"What made him push her?" he asked.

"Just because Elsie asked him, and Walter,
and Enna to go out, for fear they might do
some mischief."

Mr. Dinsmore's pen was suspended over the
paper for a moment, while he sat thinking with
a somewhat clouded brow ; but presently, turn-
ing to the little girl, he said quite pleasantly,
"Very well, Miss Lucy, I am much obliged to
you for your information, for I should be very
sorry to punish Elsie unjustly. And now will
you do me the favor to go to her and tell her
that her papa says she need not stay in her
room any longer?"

"Yes, sir, I will," replied Lucy, her face
sparkling with delight as she hurried off with
great alacrity to do his bidding.

She found Elsie in her room crying vio-
lently, and throwing her arms around her neck
she delivered Mr. Dinsmore's message con-
cluding with, "So now, Elsie, you see you
needn't cry or feel sorry any more; but just
dry your eyes and let us go down into the
garden and have a good time."

Elsie was very thankful to Lucy, and very
glad that her papa now knew that she was not
to blame ; but she was still sorry for his loss,

150 ELSIE DINSMORE

and his words had wounded her too deeply to
be immediately forgotten ; indeed it was some
time before the sore spot they had made in
her heart was entirely healed. But she tried
to forget it all and enter heartily into the
sports proposed by Lucy.

The Carringtons were not to leave until the
afternoon, and the little girls spent nearly the
whole morning in the garden, coming into the
drawing-room a few moments before the din-
ner-bell rang.

Mrs. Carrington sat on the sofa engaged
with some fancy work, while Herbert, who had
not felt well enough to join the other children,
had stretched himself out beside her, putting
his head in her lap.

. Mr. Carrington and Mr. Horace Dinsmore
were conversing near by.

Lucy ran up to her papa and seated herself
upon his knee, with her arm around her neck;
while Elsie stopped a moment to speak to Her-
bert, and then timidly approaching her father,
with her eyes upon the floor, said, in a low,
half -frightened tone, that reached no ear but
his, "I am very sorry about the vase, papa."

He took her hand, and drawing her close to
him, pushed back the hair from her forehead
with his other hand, and bending down to her,
said, almost in a whisper, " Never mind, daugh-

ELSIE DINSMORE 151

ter, we will forget all about it. I am sorry I
spoke so harshly to you, since Lucy tells me
you were not so much to blame.' '

Elsie's face flushed with pleasure, and she
looked up gratefully ; but before she had time
to reply, Mrs. Carrington said, " Elsie, we
want to take you home with us to spend a
week; will you go?"

"I should like to, very much, indeed, ma'am,
if papa will let me," replied the little girl,
looking wistfully up into his face.

"Well, Mr. Dinsmore, what do you say?
I hope you can have no objection," said Mrs.
Carrington, looking inquiringly at him ; while
her husband added, "Oh! yes, Dinsmore, you
must let her go by all means ; you can certainly
spare her for a week, and it need be no inter-
ruption to her lessons, as she can share with
Lucy in the instructions of our governess, who
is really a superior teacher."

Mr. Dinsmore was looking very grave, and
Elsie knew from the expression of his coun-
tenance what his answer would be, before he
spoke. He had noticed the indignant glance
Lucy had once or twice bestowed upon him,
and remembered Arthur's report of the con-
versation between the two little girls the night
before, and had decided in his own mind that
the less Elsie saw of Lucy the better.

1SZ ELSIE DINSMORE

a

!I thank you both for your kind attention
to my little girV he replied, courteously, "but
while fully appreciating your kindness in ex-
tending the invitation, I must beg leave to
decline it, as I am satisfied that home is the
best place for her at present. "

"Ah! no, I suppose we ought hardly to have
expected you to spare her so soon after your
return/' said Mrs* Carrington; "but, really,
I am very sorry to be refused, for Elsie is such
a good child that I am always delighted to
have Lucy and Herbert with her.,;

"Perhaps you think better of her than she
deserves, Mrs. Carrington. I find that Elsie
is sometimes naughty and in need of correc-
tion, as well as other children, and, therefore,
I think it best to keep her as much as possible
undei my own eye," replied Mr. Dinsmore,
looking very gravely at his little daughter as
he spoke ,

Elsie's face flushed painfully, and she had
hard work to keep from bursting into tears.
It was a great relief to her that just at that
moment the dinner-bell rang, and there was
a general movement in the direction of the
dining-room. Her look was touchingly humble
as hei father led her in and seated her at the
table.

She was thinking "Papa says I am naughty

ELSIE DINSMORE 153

sometimes, but oh ! how very naughty he would
think me if he knew all the wicked feelings I
had yesterday."

As soon as they had risen from the table,
Mrs. Carrington bade Lucy go up to her maid
to have her bonnet put on, as the carriage was
already at the door.

Elsie would have gone with her, but her
father had taken her hand again, and he held
it fast.

She looked up inquiringly into his face.

"Stay here," he said. "Lucy will be down
again in a moment."

And Elsie stood quietly at his side until
Lucy returned.

But even then her father did not relinquish
his hold of her hand, and all the talking the
little girls could do must be done close at his
side.

Yet, as he was engaged in earnest conver-
sation with Mr. Carrington, and did not seem
to be listening to them, Lucy ventured to
whisper to Elsie, "I think it's real mean of
him; he might let you go."

"No," replied Elsie, in the same low tone,
"I'm sure papa knows best; and besides, I
have been naughty, and don't deserve to go,
though I should like to, dearly."

154 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Well, good-bye/' said Lucy, giving her a
kiss.

It was not until Mr. Carrington's carriage
was fairly on its way down the avenue that
Mr. Dinsmore dropped his little girl's hand;
and then he said, "I want you in the library,
Elsie ; come to me in half an hour."

"Yes, papa, I will," she replied, looking a
little frightened.

"You need not be afraid," he said, in a tone
of displeasure; "I am not going to hurt you."

Elsie blushed and hung her head, but made
no reply, and he turned away and left her.
She could not help wondering what he wanted
with her, and though she tried not to feel
afraid, it was impossible to keep from trem-
bling a little as she knocked at the library
door.

Her father's voice said, "Come in," and
entering, she found him alone, seated at a table
covered with papers and writing materials,
while beside the account book in which he was
writing lay a pile of money, in bank notes, and
gold and silver.

"Here, Elsie," he said, laying down his pen,
"I want to give you your month's allowance.
Your grandfather has paid it to you hereto-
fore, but of course, now that I am at home, I
attend to everything that concerns you. You

ELSIE DINSMORE 155

have been receiving eight dollars — I shall give
you ten," and he counted out the money and
laid it before her as he spoke; "but I shall
require a strict account of all that you spend.
I want you to learn to keep accounts, for if
you live, you will some day have a great deal
of money to take care of ; and here is a blank
book that I have prepared, so that you can do
so very easily. Every time that you lay out
or give away any money, you must set it down
here as soon as you come home ; be particular
about that, lest you should forget something,
because you must bring your book to me at
the end of every month, and let me see how
much you have spent, and what is the balance
in hand; and if you are not able to make it
come out square, and tell me what you have
done with every penny, you will lose either the
whole or a part of your allowance for the next
month, according to the extent of your delin-
quency. Do you understand % 9 '

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Let me see now how much
you can remember of your last month's ex-
penditures. Take the book and set down
everything you can think of."

Elsie had a good memory, and was able to
remember how she had spent almost every cent
during the time specified; and she set down

156 ELSIE DINSMORE

one item after another, and then added up the
column without any mistake.

''That was very well done," said her father,
approvingly. And then running over the items
half aloud, "Candy, half a dollar; remember,
Elsie, there is to be no more money disposed
of in that way; not as a matter of economy,
by any means, but because I consider it very
injurious. I am very anxious that you should
grow up strong and healthy. I would not for
anything have you a miserable dyspeptic.' '

Then suddenly closing the book and handing
it to her, he said, inquiringly, " You were very
anxious to go to Ashlands?"

"I would have liked to go, papa, if you had
been willing," she replied, meekly.

"I am afraid Lucy is not a suitable com-
panion for you, Elsie. I think she puts bad
notions into your head," he said, very gravely.

Elsie flushed and trembled and was just
opening her lips to make her confession, when
the door opened and her grandfather entered.
She could not speak before him, and so
remained silent.

"Does she not sometimes say naughty things
to you?" asked her father, speaking so low
that her grandfather could not have heard.

"Yes, sir," replied the little girl, almost
under her breath.

ELSIE DINSMORE 157

"I thought so," said he, "and therefore I
shall keep you apart as entirely as possible;
and I hope there will be no murmuring on
your part."

"No. papa, you know best," she answered,
very humbly.

Then, putting the money into her hands, he
dismissed her. When she had gone out he
sat for a moment in deep thought. Elsie's
list of articles bought with her last month's
allowance consisted almost entirely of gifts
for others, generally the servants. There were
some beads and sewing silk for making a
purse, and a few drawing materials ; but, with
the exception of the candy, she had bought
nothing else for herself. This was what her
father was thinking of.

"She is a dear, unselfish, generous little
thing," he said, to himself. "However, I may
be mistaken ; I must not allow myself to judge
from only one month. She seems submissive,
too" — he had overheard what passed between
her and Lucy at parting — '"but perhaps that
was for effect ; she probably suspected I could
hear her — and she thinks me a tyrant, and
obeys from fear, not love."

This thought drove away all the tender
feeling that had been creeping into his heart 5
and when he next met his little daughter, his

158 ELSIE DINSMORE

manner was as cold and distant as ever, and
Elsie found it impossible to approach him
with sufficient freedom to tell him what was in
her heart.

CHAPTER V.

"Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice
triumphs."

—Longfellow's Evangeline.

"How disappointment tracks
The steps of hope!"

Miss Landon.

One afternoon, the next week after the Car-
ringtons had left, the younger members of the
family, Arthur, Elsie, Walter and Enna, were
setting out to take a walk, when Elsie, seeing
a gold chain depending from the pocket of
Arthur's jacket, exclaimed:

"O Arthur! how could you take grandpa's
watch ? Do put it away, for you will be almost
sure to injure it."

"Hold your tongue, Elsie; I'll do as I
please," was the polite rejoinder.

"But, Arthur, you know that grandpa would
never let you take it. I have often heard him
say that it was very valuable, for it was seldom
that so good a one could be had at any price ;
and I know that he paid a great deal for it."

"Well, if he prizes it so, he needn't have
left it lying on his table, and so I'll just teach

159

160 ELSIE DINSMORE

him a lesson; it's about time he learnt to be
careful."

"O Arthur! do put it away," pleaded Elsie ;
"if anything should happen to it, what will
grandpa say? I know he will be very angry,
and ask us all who did it; and you know I
cannot tell a lie, and if he asks me if it was
you, I cannot say no."

"Yes, 111 trust you for telling tales," re-
plied Arthur, sneeringly; "but if you do, I'll
pay you for it."

He ran down the avenue as he spoke, Walter
and Enna following, and Elsie slowly bring-
ing up the rear, looking the picture of distress,
for she knew not what to do, seeing that
Arthur would not listen to her remonstrances,
and, as often happened, all the older members
of the family were out, and thus there was no
authority that could be appealed to in time to
prevent the mischief which she had every
reason to fear would be done. Once she
thought of turning back, that she might escape
the necessity of being a witness in the case;
but, remembering that her father told her she
must walk with the others that afternoon, and
also that, as she had already seen the watch
in Arthur's possession, her testimony would
be sufficient to convict him even if she saw
no more, she gave up the idea, and hurried

ELSIE DINSMORE 161

on, with the faint hope that she might be able
to induce Arthur to refrain from indulging
in such sports as would be likely to endanger
the watch; or else to give it into her charge.
At any other time she would have trembled
at the thought of touching it ; but now she felt
so sure it would be safer with her than with
him, that she would gladly have taken the
responsibility.

The walk was far from being a pleasure that
afternoon; the boys ran so fast that it quite
put her out of breath to keep up with them;
and then every little while Arthur would cut
some caper that made her tremble for the
watch ; answering her entreaties that he would
either give it into her care or walk along
quietly, with sneers and taunts, and declara-
tions of his determination to do just exactly
as he pleased, and not be ruled by her.

But at length, while he was in the act of
climbing a tree, the watch dropped from his
pocket and fell to the ground, striking with
considerable force.

Elsie uttered a scream, and Arthur, now
thoroughly frightened himself, jumped down
and picked it up.

The crystal was broken, the back dented,
and how much the works were injured they
could not tell ; but it had ceased to ran.

162 ELSIE DTNSMCTRE

"O Arthur! see what you've done!,, ex-
claimed Walter.

"What will papa say?" said Enna; while
Elsie stood pale and trembling, not speaking
a word.

"You hush!" exclaimed Arthur, fiercely.
"I'll tell you what, if any of you dare tell of
me, I'll make you sorry for it to the last day
of your life. Do you hear?"

The question was addressed to Elsie in a
tone of defiance.

"Arthur," said she, "grandpa will know
that somebody did it, and surely you would
not wish an innocent person to be punished
for your fault."

"I don't care who gets punished, so that
papa does not find out that I did it," said he,
furiously; "and if you dare to tell of me, I'll
pay you for it."

"I shall say nothing unless it becomes neces-
sary to save the innocent, or I am forced to
speak; but in that case I shall tell the truth,"
replied Elsie, firmly.

Arthur doubled up his fist, and made a
plunge at her as if he meant to knock her
down; but Elsie sprang behind the tree, and
then ran so fleetly toward the house that he
was not able to overtake her until his passion
had had time to cool.

ELSIE DINSMORE 163

When they reached the house, Arthur re-
placed the watch on his father's table, whence
he had taken it, and then they all awaited his
return with what courage they might.

"I say, Wally," said Arthur, drawing his
little brother aside and speaking in a low tone,
having first sent a cautious glance around to
assure himself that no one else was within
hearing ; ' ' I say, what would you give me for
that new riding whip of mine?"

" O Arthur! anything IVe got," exclaimed
the little boy, eagerly. "But you wouldn't
give it up, I know, and you're only trying to
tease me."

"No, indeed, Wal; I mean to give it to you
if you'll only be a good fellow and do as I tell
you."

"What?" he asked, with intense interest.

"Tell papa that Jim broke the watch."

"But he didn't," replied the child, opening
his eyes wide with astonishment.

"Well, what of that, you little goose?" ex-
claimed Arthur, impatiently; "papa doesn't
know that."

"But Jim will get punished," said Walter,
"and I don't want to tell such a big story
either."

("Very well, sir, then you'll not get the whip ;
and, besides, if you don't do as I wish, I'm

164 ELSIE DINSMORE

certain you'll see a ghost one of these nights;
for there's one comes to see me sometimes, and
I'll send him right off to you."

"Oh! don't, Arthur, don't; I'd die of
fright," cried the little boy, who was very
timid, glancing nervously around, as if he ex-
pected the ghost to appear immediately.

"I tell you I will, though, if you don't do
as I say; he'll come this very night and carry
you off, and never bring you back."

"Oh Arthur ! don't let him come, and I'll say
anything you want me to," cried the little
fellow, in great terror.

"That's a good boy; I knew you would,"
said Arthur, smiling triumphantly. And,
turning away from Walter, he next sought out
Enna, and tried his threats and persuasions
upon her with even better success.

Elsie had gone directly to her own room,
where she sat trembling every time a footstep
approached her door, lest it should be a mes-
senger from her grandfather. No one came,
however, and at last the tea-bell rang, and on
going down she found to her relief that her
grandfather and his wife had not yet returned.

"You look pale, Elsie," said her father,
giving her a scrutinizing glance as she took
her seat by his side. "Are you well?"

"Yes, papa, quite well," she replied.

ELSIE DINSMORE 165

He looked at her again a little anxiously,
but said no more ; and as soon as the meal was
concluded, Elsie hastened away to her own
room again.

It was still early in the evening when Mr.
and Mrs. Dinsmore returned — for once bring-
ing no company with them; and he had not
been many minutes in the house ere he took
up his watch, and of course instantly discov-
ered the injury it had sustained.

His suspicions at once fell upon Arthur,
whose character for mischief was well estab-
lished ; and burning with rage, watch in handv
he repaired to the drawing-room, which he
entered, asldng, in tones tremulous with pas-
sion, " Where is Arthur1? Young rascal! this
is some of his work," he added, holding up
the injured article.

"My dear, how can you say so? have you
any proof?" asked his wife deprecatingly,
adding in her softest tones, "My poor boy
seems to get the blame of everything that goes
wrong."

"He gets no more than he deserves," replied
her husband, angrily. "Arthur! Arthur, I
say, where are you?"

"He is in the garden, sir, I think. I saw
him walking in the shrubbery a moment
since," said Mr. Horace Dinsmore.

166 ELSIE DINSMORE

The father instantly despatched a servant
to bring him in, sending a second in search
of the overseer, while a third was ordered to
assemble all the house servants. "I will sift
this matter to the bottom, and child or servant,
the guilty one shall suffer for it," exclaimed
the old gentleman, pacing angrily up and down
the room. "Arthur," said he, sternly, as the
boy made his appearance, looking somewhat
pale and alarmed, "how dare you meddle with
my watch?"

"I didn't, sir; I never touched it," he re-
plied, boldly, yet avoiding his father's eye as
he uttered the deliberate falsehood.

"There, my dear, I told you so," exclaimed
his mother, triumphantly.

"I don't believe you," said his father; "and
if you are guilty, as I strongly suspect, you
had better confess it at once, before I find it
out in some other way."

"I didn't do it, sir. It was Jim, and I can
prove it by Walter and Enna; we all saw it
fall from his pocket when he was up in a tree,
and he cried like anything when he found it
was broken, and said he didn't mean to do it
any harm ; he was only going to wear it a little
while, and then put it back all safe ; but now
master would be dreadfully angry and have
him flogged."

ELSIE DINSMORE 167

"That I will, if it is true," exclaimed the
old gentleman, passionately; "he shall be well
whipped and sent out to work on the planta-
tion. I'll keep no such meddlers about my
house."

He looked at Enna. "What do you know of
this?" he asked.

"It is true, papa, I saw him do it," she re-
plied, with a slight blush, and sending an
uneasy glance around the room.

"Did you see if, too, Walter?" asked his
father.

"Yes, sir," replied the little fellow, in a low,
reluctant tone; "but please, papa, don't pun^
ish him. I'm sure he didn't mean to break it."

"Hold your tongue! He shall be punished
as he deserves," cried the old gentleman,
furiously. "Here, sir," turning to the over-
seer, and pointing to Jim, "take the fellow
out, and give him such a flogging as he will
remember."

Elsie was sitting in her own room, trying
to learn a lesson for the next day, but finding
great difficulty in fixing her thoughts upon it,
when she was startled by the sudden entrance
of Aunt Chloe, who, with her apron to her
eyes, was sobbing violently.

"O mammy, mammy! what's the matter?
has anything happened to you?" inquired the

168 ELSIE DINSMORE

little girl, in a tone of great alarm, starting
to her feet, and dropping her book in her haste
and fright.

"Why," sobbed Chloe, "Jim, he's been an*
gone an* broke ole master's watch, an' he's
gwine be whipped, an' old Aunt Phoebe she's
cryin' fit to break her ole heart 'bout her boy,
kase -"

Elsie waited to hear no more, but darting
out into the hall, and encountering her father
on his way to his room, she rushed up to Mm,
pale and agitated, and seizing his hand, looked
up eagerly into his face, exclaiming with a
burst of tears and sobs, "O papa, papa! don't
oh! don't let them whip poor Jim."

Mr. Dinsmore's countenance was very grave,
almost distressed.

'"I am sorry it Is necessary, daughter," he
said, "but Jim has done very wrong, and de-
serves his punishment, and I cannot in-
terfere."

"Oh! no, papa, he did not, indeed he did
not break the watch. I know he didn't, for
I was by and saw it all."

"Is it possible?" said he, in a tone of sur-
prise; "then tell me who did do it. It could
not have been you, Elsie?" and he looked
searchingly into her face.

"Oh! no, papa, I would never have dared

ELSIE DINSMORE 169

to toueh it. But please don't make me tell
tales; but I know it wasn't Jim. Oh! do stop
them quickly, before they begin to whip him."

"Aunt Chloe," said Mr. Dinsmore, "go
down to my father, and tell him it is my re-
quest that the punishment should be delayed
a few moments until I come down."

Then, taking Elsie's hand, he led her into
her room again, and seating himself, drew her
to his side, saying, with grave decision, "Now,
my daughter, if you want to save Jim, it will
be necessary for you to tell all you know about
this affair."

"I don't like to tell tales, papa," pleaded
the little girl; "I think it so very mean. Is
it not enough for me to tell that I know Jim
didn't do it?"

"No, Elsie; I have already said that it is
quite necessary for you to tell all you know."

"O papa! don't make me; I don't like to
do it," she urged, with tears in her eyes.

"I should be very much ashamed of you,
and quite unwilling to own you as my child,
if under any other circumstances you were
willing to tell tales," he replied, in a tone of
kindness that quite surprised Elsie, who
always trembled at the very thought of oppos-
ing the slightest resistance to his will; "but,"
he added, firmly, "it is the only way to save

170 ELSIE DINSMORE

Jim; if j^ou do not now make a full disclosure
of all you know, he will be severely whipped
and sent away to work on the plantation,
which will distress his poor old mother ex-
ceedingly. Elsie, I think you would be doing
very wickedly to allow an innocent person to
suffer when you can prevent it; and, besides,
I will add the weight of my authority, and
say you must do it at once; and you well know,
my daughter, that there can be no question as
to the duty of obedience to your father."

He paused, gazing earnestly down into the
little, tearful, downcast, blushing face at his
side.

"Have I not said enough to convince you
of your duty?" he asked.

"Yes, papa; I will tell you all about it," she
answered, in a tremulous tone.

Her story was told with evident reluctance,
but in a simple, straightforward manner, that
attested its truthfulness.

Mr. Dinsmore listened in silence, but with
an expression of indignation on his handsome
features ; and the moment she had finished he
rose, and again taking her hand, led her from
the room, saying, as he did so :

"You must repeat this story to your grand-
father."

"O papa! mast I? Won't you tell him?

ELSIE DINSMORE 171

Please don't make me do it," she pleaded,
trembling, and hanging back.

"My daughter, you must/' he replied, so
sternly that she dared not make any further
resistance, but quietly submitted to be led into
her grandfather's presence.

He was still in the drawing-room, walking
about in a disturbed and angry manner, and
now and then casting a suspicious glance upon
Arthur, who sat pale and trembling in a
corner, looking the picture of guilt and misery ;
for he had heard Chloe deliver his brother's
message, and feared that exposure awaited
him.

Walter had stolen away to cry over Jim's
punishment, and wish that he had had the
courage to tell the truth at first; but saying
to himself that it was too late now, his father
wouldn't believe him, and he would make it
up to Jim somehow, even if it took all his
pocket-money for a month.

None of the other members of the family
had left the room, and all wore an anxious,
expectant look, as Mr. Dinsmore entered,
leading Elsie by the hand.

"I have brought you another witness, sir,"
he said, "for it seems Elsie was present when
the mischief was done."

"Ah!" exclaimed the old gentleman; "then

172 ELSIE DINSMORE

I may hope to get at the truth. Elsie, who
broke my watch ?"

"It was not Jim, grandpa, indeed, indeed,
it was not; but oh! please don't make me say
who it was," replied the little girl, beseech-
ingly.

"Elsie!" exclaimed her father, in a tone of
stern reproof.

"O papa! how can IV she sobbed, trem-
bling and clinging to his hand as she caught
a threatening look from Arthur.

"Come, come, child, you must tell us all you
know about it," said her grandfather, "or else
I can't let Jim on2."

Mr. Dinsmore was looking down at his little
girl, and, following the direction of her glance,
perceived the cause of her terror. "Don't be
afraid to speak out and tell all you know,
daughter, for I will protect you," he said,
pressing the little trembling hand in his, and
at the same time giving Arthur a meaning look.

"Yes, yes, speak out, child; speak out at
once; no one shall hurt you for telling the
truth," exclaimed her grandfather, impa-
tiently.

"I will, grandpa," she said, trembling and
weeping ; "but please don't be very angry with
Arthur; if you will forgive him this time, I

ELSIE DINSMORE 173

think he will never meddle any more; and I
am quite sure he did not mean to break it."

"So it was you, after all, you young rascal!
I knew it from the first!" cried the old gentle-
man, striding across the room, seizing the boy
by the shoulder and shaking him roughly.

"But go on, Elsie, let us have the whole
story," he added, turning to her again, but
still keeping his hold upon Arthur. "You
young dog!" he added, when she had finished.
"Yes, I'll forgive you when you've had a good,
sound flogging, and a week's solitary confine-
ment on bread and water, but not before."

So saying, he was about to lead him from
the room, when Elsie suddenly sprang for-
ward, and with clasped hands, and flushed,
eager face, she pleaded earnestly, beseechingly,
"O grandpa! don't whip him, don't punish
him ! He will never be so naughty again. Will
you, Arthur? Let me pay for the watch,
grandpa, and don't punish him. I would so
like to do it."

"It isn't the moneyed value of the watch
I care for, child," replied the old gentleman,
contemptuously; "and, besides, where would
you get so much money?"

"I am rich, grandpa, am I not? Didn't my
.mamma leave me a great deal of money?"

174 ELSIE DINSMORE

asked the little girl, casting down her eyes and
blushing painfully.

" No, Elsie," said her father, very gently,
as he took her hand and led her back to the
side of his chair again, "you have nothing but
what I choose to give you, until you come of
age, which will not be for a great many years
yet."

"But you will give me the money to pay for
the watch, papa, won't you?" she asked,
pleadingly.

"No, I certainly shall not, for I think
Arthur should be left to suffer the penalty of
his own misdeeds," he replied, in a very de-
cided tone; "and, besides," he added, "your
grandfather has already told you that it is not
the pecuniary loss he cares for."

"No; but I will teach this young rascal to
let my property alone," said the elder gentle-
man, with almost fierce determination, as he
tightened his grasp upon the boy's arm and
dragged him from the room.

Arthur cast a look of hatred and defiance
at Elsie as he went out, that made her grow
pale with fear and tremble so that she could
scarcely stand.

Her father saw both the look and its effect,
and drawing the little trembler closer to him,
lie put his arm around her, and stroking her

ELSIE DINSMORE 175

hair, said in a low, soothing tone: " Don't be
frightened, daughter ; I will protect you. ' '

She answered hirn with a grateful look and
a long sigh of relief, and he was just about to
take her on his knee when visitors were an-
nounced and, changing his mind, he dismissed
her to her room, and she saw no more of him
that evening.

"Oh! if they only hadn't come just now,"
thought the sorely disappointed child, as she
went out with slow, reluctant steps. "I'm sure
they wouldn't, if they had only known. I'm
sure, quite sure, papa was going to take me
on his knee, and they prevented him. Oh ! will
he ever think of doing it again? Dear, dear
papa, if you could only know how I long to sit
there!" But Mrs. Dinsmore, who had hastily
returned on the exit of Arthur and his father
from the drawing-room, was now sailing ma-
jestically down the hall, on her return thither;
and Elsie, catching sight of her, and being
naturally anxious to avoid a meeting just then,
at once quickened her pace very considerably,
almost running up the stairs to her own room,
where she found old Aunt Phoebe, Jim's
mother, waiting to speak with her.

The poor old creature was overflowing with
gratitude, and her fervent outpouring of

176 ELSIE DINSMORE

thanks and blessings almost made Elsie forget
her disappointment for the time.

Then Jim came to the door, asking to see
Miss Elsie, and poured ont his thanks amid
many sobs and tears ; for the poor fellow had
been terribly frightened — indeed, so astounded
by the unexpected charge, that he had not a
word to say in his own defense, beyond an
earnest and reiterated assertion of his entire
innocence ; to which, however, his angry master
had paid no attention.

But at length Phoebe remembered that she
had some baking to do, and, calling on Jim
to come right along and split tip some dry
wood to heat her oven, she went down to the
kitchen, followed by her son, and Elsie was
left alone with her nurse.

Chloe sat silently knitting, and the little
girl, with her head leaning upon her hand and
her eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the floor, was
rehearsing again and again in her own mind
all that had just passed between her papa and
herself; dwelling with lingering delight upon
everything approaching to a caress, every
kind word, every soothing tone of his voice;
and then picturing to herself all that he might
have done and said if those unwelcome visitors
had not come in and put an end to the inter-
view; and half hoping that he would send for \

ELSIE DINSMORE 177

her when they had gone, she watched the clock
and listened intently for every sound.

But her bedtime came and she dared not
stay up any longer; for his orders had been
peremptory that she should always retire pre-
cisely at that hour, unless she had his express
permission to remain up longer.

She lay awake for some time, thinking of
his unwonted kindness, and indulging fond
hopes for the future, then fell asleep to dream
that she was on her father's knee, and felt his
arms folded lovingly about her, and his kisses
warm upon her cheek.

Her heart beat quickly as she entered the
breakfast-room the next morning.

The family were just taking their places at
the table, and her half-eager, half-timid
" Good-morning, papa," was answered by a
grave, absent " Good-morning, Elsie," and
turning to his father and entering into a con-
versation with him on some business matter,
he took no further notice of his little daughter,
excepting to see that her plate was well sup-
plied with such articles of food as he allowed
her to eat.

Elsie was sadly disappointed, and lingered
about the room in the vain hope of obtaining
a smile or caress; but presently her father
went out, saying to the elder Mr. Dinsmore

178 ELSIE DINSMORE

that he was going to ride over to Ion, and
would probably not return before night ; then,
with a sigh, the little girl went back to her
own room to prepare her morning lessons.

Elsie was now happily free from Arthur's
persecutions for a time; for, even after his
release, he was too much afraid of his brother
openly to offer her any very serious annoy-
ance, though he plotted revenge in secret ; yet
the little girl's situation was far from com-
fortable, and her patience often severely tried,
for Mrs. Dinsmore was excessively angry with
her on Arthur's account, and whenever her
father was not present, treated her in the most
unkind manner ; and from the same cause the
rest of the family, with the exception of her
grandpa and Aunt Adelaide, were unusually
cool and distant; while her father, although
careful to see that all her wants were attended
to, seldom took any further notice of her;
unless to reprove her for some childish fault
which, however trifling, never escaped his eye.

"You seem," said Adelaide to him one day,
as he sent Elsie from the room for some very
slight fault, "to expect that child to be a great
deal more perfect than any grown person I
ever saw, and to understand all about the rules
of etiquette."

"If you please. Adelaide," said he, haugh-

ELSIE DINSMORE 179

tily, "I should like to be allowed to manage
my own child as I see proper, without any
interference from others."

"Excuse me," replied his sister; "I had no
intention of interfering; but, really, Horace,
I do think you have no idea how eagle-eyed
you are for faults in her, or how very stern
is the tone in which you always reprove her.
I have known Elsie a great deal longer than
you have, and I feel very certain that a gentle
reproof would do her quite as much good, and
not wound her half so much."

"Enough, Adelaide ! "exclaimed her brother,
impatiently. "If I were ten years younger
than yourself, instead of that much older,
there might be some propriety in your advis-
ing and directing me thus ; as it is, I must say
I consider it simply impertinent." And he
left the room with an angry stride, while
Adelaide looked after him with the thought,
"I am glad you have no authority over me."

All that Adelaide had said was true; yet
Elsie never complained, never blamed her
father, even in her heart ; but, in her deep hu-
mility, thought it was all because she was "so
very naughty or careless"; and she was con-
tinually making resolutions to be "oh! so
careful always to do just right, and please

180 ELSIE DINSMORE

dear papa, so that some day he might learn
to love her."

But, alas! that hope was daily growing
fainter and fainter ; his cold and distant man-
ner to her and his often repeated reproofs had
so increased her natural timidity and sensi-
tiveness that she was now very constrained in
her approaches to him, and seldom ventured
to move or speak in his presence ; and he would
not see that this timidity and embarrassment
were the natural results of his treatment, but
attributed it all to want of affection. He saw
that she feared him, and to that feeling alone
he gave credit for her uniform obedience to
his commands, while he had no conception of
the intense, but now almost despairing, love
for him that burned in that little heart, and
made the young life one longing, earnest desire
and effort to gain his affection.

CHAPTEE VI.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art
with me ; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." —

— Psalm xxiii; U.

" 'Tis but the cruel artifice of fate,
Thus to refine and vary on our woes,
To raise us from despair and give us hopes,
Only to plunge us in the gulf again,
And make us doubly wretched."

Trap's Abramuh.

It was Sabbath morning, and Elsie, ready
dressed for church, stood in the portico wait-
ing for her father to come down and lift her
into her carriage, in which Adelaide, Lora,
and Enna were already seated.

The coachman was in his seat, and the
horses, a pair of young and fiery steeds pur-
chased by Mr. Dinsmore only a few days he-
fore, were impatiently stamping and tossing
their heads, requiring quite an exertion of
strength to hold them in.

"I don't exactly like the actions of those
horses, Ajax," remarked Mr. Dinsmore, as
he came out putting on his gloves; "I did not

181

182 ELSIE DINSMORE

intend to have them put in harness to-day.

Why did you not give us the old bays?"
"Kase, Marster Horace, old Kate she's got

a lame foot, an' ole marster he says dese

youngsters is got to be used some time or

nuther, an' I reckoned I mout jis' as well use

'em to-day."
"Do you feel quite sure of being able to

hold them in?" asked his master, glancing

uneasily first at the horses and then at Elsie.

"Ki! marster, dis here chile been able to

hold in a 'most anything," exclaimed the negro,

exhibiting a double row of dazzling white
teeth; "an' besides, I'se drove dese here horses
twice 'fore now, an' dey went splendid. Hold

'em in? Yes, sar, easy as nuffin."

" Elsie, " said her father, still looking a little
uneasy, in spite of A j ax's boasting, "I think
it would be just as well for you to stay at
home."

Elsie made no reply in words, but her an-
swering look spoke such intense disappoint-
ment, such earnest entreaty, that, saying,
"Ah! well, I suppose there is no real danger;
and since you seem to anxious to go, I will
not compel you to stay at home," he lifted
her into the carriage, and, seating himself be-
side her, ordered the coachman to drive on as
carefully as he could.

ELSIE DINSMORE 183

"Elsie, change seats with me," said Enna;
"I want to sit beside Brother Horace."

"No," replied Mr. Dinsmore, laying his
hand on his little daughter's shoulder, " Elsie's
place is by me, and she shall sit nowhere else."

"Do you think we are in any danger of being
run away with?" asked Adelaide, a little
anxiously, as she observed him glancing once
or twice out of the window, and was at the
same time sensible that their motion was
unusually rapid.

"The horses are young and fiery, but Ajax
is an excellent driver," he replied, evasively;
adding, "You may be sure that if I had
thought the danger very great I would have
left Elsie at home."

They reached the church without accident,
but on their return the horses took fright while
going down a hill, and rushed along at a furi-
ous rate, which threatened every instant to
upset the carriage.

Elsie thought they were going very fast, but
'did not know that there was real danger until
her father suddenly lifted her from her seat,
and, placing her between his knees, held her
tightly, as though he feared she would be
\matehed from his grasp.

Elsie looked up into his face. It was deadly

184 ELSIE DINSMORE

pale, and his eyes were fixed upon her with
an expression of anguish.

"Dear papa," she whispered, "Gk)d will
take care of us."

"I would give all I am worth to have you
safe at home," he answered, hoarsely, pressing
her closer and closer to him.

O! even in that moment of fearful peril,
when death seemed just at hand, those words,
and the affectionate clasp of her father's arm,
sent a thrill of intense joy to the love-famished
heart of the little girl.

But destruction seemed inevitable. Lora
was leaning back, half fainting with terror,
Adelaide scarcely less alarmed, while Enna
clung to her, sobbing most bitterly.

Elsie alone preserved a cheerful serenity.
She had built her house upon the rock, and
knew that it would stand. Her destiny was
in her Heavenly Father's hands, and she was
content to leave it there. Even death had no
terrors to the simple, unquestioning faith of
the little child who had put her trust in Jesus.

But they were not to perish thus ; for at that
moment a powerful negro, who was walking
along the road, hearing an unusual sound,
turned about, caught sight of the vehicle com-
ing toward him at such a rapid rate, and,
instantly comprehending the peril of the travr

ELSIE DINSMORE 185

elers, planted himself in the middle o>f the
road, and, at the risk of life and limb, caught
the horses by the bridle — the sudden and unex-
pected cheek throwing them upon their
haunches, and bringing the carriage to an
instant standstill.

"Thank God, we are saved! That fellow
shall be well rewarded for his brave deed,"
exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore, throwing open the
carriage door.

Then, leaping to the ground, he lifted Elsie
out, set her down, and gave his hand to his
sisters one after the other.

They were almost at the entrance of the
avenue, and all preferred to walk the short
distance to the house rather than again trust
themselves to the horses.

Mr. Dinsmore lingered a moment to speak
to the man who had done them such good
service, and to give some directions to the
coachman; and then, taking the hand of his
little girl, who had been waiting for him, he
walked, slowly on, neither of them speaking
a word until they reached the house, when he
stooped and kissed her cheek, asking very
kindly if she had recovered from her fright.

"Yes, papa," she answered, in a quiet tone,
"I knew that God would take care of us. Oh!

186 ELSIE DINSMORE

wasn't He good to keep us all from being
killed?"

"Yes," he said, very gravely. "Go, now,
and let mammy get you ready for dinner."

As Elsie was sitting alone in her room that
afternoon she was surprised by a visit from
Lora ; it being very seldom that the elder girls
cared to enter her apartment.

Lora looked a little pale, and more grave
and thoughtful than Elsie had ever seen her.
For a while she sat in silence, then suddenly
burst out, "Oh, Elsie! I can't help thinking
all the time, what if we had been killed ! where
would we all be now? where would I have
been ? I believe you would have gone straight
to heaven, Elsie; but 2" — oh! I should have-
been with the rich man the minister read about
this morning, lifting up my eyes in torment."

And Lora covered her face with her hands
and shuddered.

Presently she went on again. "I was ter-
ribly frightened, and so were the rest — all but
you, Elsie; tell me, do — what kept you from
being afraid?"

"I was thinking," said Elsie, gently, turn-
ing over the leaves of her little Bible as she
spoke, "of this sweet verse: 'Yea, though I
walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil ; for thou art with

ELSIE DINSMORE 187

me;' and oh, Lora! it made me so happy to
think that Jesus was there with me, and that
if I were killed, I should only fall asleep, to
wake up again in His arms; then how could
I be afraid?"

"Ah! I would give anything to feel as you
do," said Lora, sighing. "But, tell me, Elsie,
did you not feel afraid for the rest of us? I'm
sure you must know that we are not Chris-
tians; we don't even pretend to be."

Elsie blushed and looked down.

"It all passed so quickly, you know, Lora,
almost in a moment," she said, "so that I only
had time to think of papa and myself ; and I
have prayed so much for him that I felt quite
sure God would spare him until he should be
prepared to die. It was very selfish, I know,"
she added, with deep humility; "but it was
only for a moment, and I can't tell you how
thankful I was for all our spared lives."

"Don't look so — as if you had done some-
thing very wicked, Elsie," replied Lora, sigh-
ing again. "I'm sure we have given you little
enough reason to care whatever becomes of
us ; but oh ! Elsie, if you can only tell me how
to be a Christian, I mean now to try very hard ;
indeed, I am determined never to rest until I
am one."

"Oh, Lora, how glad I am!" cried Elsie,

188 ELSIE DINSMORE

joyfully, "for I know that if you are really in
earnest, you will succeed ; for no one ever yet
failed who tried aright. Jesus said, 'Every
one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seek-
eth, findeth ; and to him that knocketh, it shall
be opened.' Is not that encouraging? And
listen to what God says here in this verse:
f Ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall
search for me with all your heart/ So you
see, dear Lora, if you will only seek the Lord
with your whole heart, you may be sure, quite
sure, of finding Him."

"Yes," said Lora, "but you have not an-
swered my question: how am I to seek? that
is, what means am I to use to get rid of my
sins, and get a new heart? how make myself
pleasing in the sight of God % what must I do
to be saved?"

"That is the very question the jailer put
to Paul, and he answered, i Believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,' "
replied Elsie, quickly turning to the chapter
and pointing out the text with her finger, that
Lora might see that she had quoted it cor-
rectly. "And, in answer to your other ques-
tion, 'How shall I get rid of my sins?' see
here: 'In that day there shall be a fountain
opened to the house of David and to the in-
habitants of Jerusalem for sin and for unclean-

ELSIE DINSMORE 189

liness.' That is in Zechariah; then John tells
us what that fountain is when he says, 'The
blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us
from all sin;, and again, 'Unto Him that loved
us, and washed us from our sins in His own
blood.' "

"Yes, Elsie, but what must I &oV asked
Lora, eagerly.

"Do, Lora! Only believe," replied Elsie, in
the same earnest tone. "Jesus has done and
suffered all that is necessary ; and now we have
nothing at all to do but go to Him and be
washed in that fountain; believe Him when
He says, 'I give unto them eternal life;' just
accept the gift, and trust and love Him; that
is the whole of it, and it is so simple that even
such a little girl as I can understand it."

"But surely, Elsie, I can, I must do some-
thing/'

"Yes, God tells us to repent; and He says,
'Give me thine heart;' you can do that; you
can love Jesus ; at least He will enable you to,
if you ask Him, and He will teach you to be
sorry for your sins; the Bible says, 'He is ex-
alted to give repentance and remission of
sins;' and if you ask Him He will give them
to you. It is true we cannot do anything good
of ourselves; without the help of the Holy
Spirit we can do nothing right, because we are

190 ELSIE DINSMORE

so very wicked; but then we can always get
that help if we ask for it. Jesus said, 'Your
Heavenly Father is more willing to give His
Holy Spirit to them that ask Him, than par-
ents are to give good gifts unto their children. '
Oh, Lora! don't be afraid to ask for it; don't
be afraid to come to Jesus, for He says, 'Him
that cometh unto Me, I will in nowise cast out ;'
and He is such a precious Saviour, so kind
and loving. But remember that you must
come very humbly ; feeling that you are a great
sinner, and not worthy to be heard, and only
hoping to be forgiven, because Jesus died. The
Bible says, 'God resisteth the proud, but
giveth grace unto the humble. ' ' '

Lora lingered the greater part of the after-
noon in Elsie's room, asking her questions, or
listening to her while she read the Scriptures,
or repeated some beautiful hymn, or spoke in
her sweet, childish way, of her own peace and
joy in believing in Jesus.

But at last Lora went to her own room, and
Elsie had another quiet half hour to herself
before the tea-bell again called the family
together.

Elsie answered the summons with a light
heart — a heart that thrilled with a new and
strange sense of happiness as she remembered
her father's evident anxiety for her safety

ELSIE DINSMORE 191

during their perilous ride, recalling each word
and look, and feeling again, in imagination,
the clasp of his arm about her waist.

"Ah! surely papa does love me," she mur-
mured to herself, over and over again; and
when he met her at the table with a kind smile,
and laying his hand caressingly on her head,
asked in an affectionate tone, "How does my
little daughter do this evening'?" her cheeks
flushed, and her eyes grew bright with happi-
ness, and she longed to throw her arms around
his neck, and tell him how very, very much
she loved him.

But that was quite impossible at the table,
and before all the family ; so she merely raised
her glad eyes to his face and answered, "I
am very well, thank you, papa."

But, after all, this occurrence produced but
little change in Elsie's condition; her father
treated her a little more affectionately for a
day or two, and then gradually returned to his
ordinary stern, cold manner; indeed, before
the week was out, she was again in sad dis-
grace.

She was walking alone in the garden one
afternoon, when her attention was attracted
by a slight fluttering noise which seemed to
proceed from an arbor near by, and on hastily
turning in to ascertain the cause, she found

192 ELSIE DINSMORE

a tiny and beautiful humming-bird confined
under a glass vase ; in its struggles to escape
it was fluttering and beating against the walls
of its prison, thus producing the sound the
little girl had heard in passing.

Elsie was very tender-hearted, and could
never see any living creature in distress with-
out feeling a strong desire to relieve its suf-
ferings. She knew that Arthur was in the
habit of torturing every little insect and bird
that came in his way, and had often drawn his
persecutions upon herself by interfering in
behalf of the poor victim ; and now the thought
instantly flashed upon her that this was some
of his work, and that he would return ere long
to carry out his cruel purposes. Then at once
arose the desire to release the little prisoner
and save it further suffering, and without
waiting to reflect a moment she raised the
glass, and the bird was gone.

Then she began to think with a little tremor
how angry Arthur would be; but it was too
late to think of that now, and, after all, she
did not stand in very great dread of the con-
sequences, especially as she felt nearly sure of
her father's approval of what she had done,
having several times heard him reprove
Arthur for his cruel practices.

Not caring to meet Arthur then, however,

ELSIE DINSMORE 193

she hastily retreated to the house, where she
seated herself on the veranda with a hook. It
was a very warm afternoon, and that, heing
on the east side of the house and well pro-
tected by trees, shrubbery, and vines, was as
cool a spot as could be found on the place.

Arthur, Walter and Enna sat on the floor
playing jaekstones — a favorite game with them
— and Louise was stretched full length on a
settee, buried in the latest novel.

"Hush!" she said, as Walter gave a sudden
shout at a successful toss Enna had just made ;
"can't you be quiet? Mamma is taking her
afternoon nap, and you will disturb her ; and,
besides, I cannot read in such a noise."

Elsie wondered why Arthur did not go to
see after his bird, but soon forgot all about it
in the interest with which she was poring over
the story of the "Swiss Family Robinson."

The jackstone players were just finishing
their game when they were all startled by the
sudden appearance of Mr. Horace Dinsmore
upon the scene, asking in a tone of great wrath
who had been down in the garden and liberated
the humming-bird he had been at such pains
to catch, because it was one of a rare species,
and he was anxious to add it to his collection
of curiosities.

Elsie was terribly frightened, and would

194 ELSIE DINSMORE

have been glad at that moment to sink through
the floor ; she dropped her book in her lap, and
clasping her hands over her beating heart,
grew pale and red by turns, while she seemed
choking with the vain effort to speak and
acknowledge herself the culprit, as conscience
told her she ought.

But her father was not looking at her; his
eye was fixed on Arthur.

"I presume it was you, sir," he said very
angrily, "and if so you may prepare yourself
for either a flogging or a return to your prison,
for one or the other I am deteraiined you shall
have."

"I didn't do it, any such thing," replied the
boy, fiercely.

"Of course you will deny it," said his
brother, "but we all know that your word is
good for nothing."

"Papa," said a trembling little voice, "Ar-
thur did not do it — it was I."

"You!" exclaimed her father, in a tone of
mingled anger and astonishment, as he turned
his flashing eye upon her ; "'you, Elsie ! can it
be possible that this is your doing?"

Elsie's book fell on the floor, and, covering
her face with both hands, she burst into sobs
and tears.

"Come here to me this instant," he said,

ELSIE DINSMORE 195

seating himself on the settee, from which
Louise had risen on his entrance. "Come
here and tell me what you mean by meddling
with my affairs in this way."

"Please, papa, please don't be so very angry
with me," sobbed the little girl, as she rose
and came forward in obedience to his com-
mand ; "I didn't know it was your bird, and I
didn't mean to be naughty."

"No, you never mean to be naughty, accord
ing to your own account," he said ; "your bad-
ness is all accident; but nevertheless, I find
you a very troublesome, mischievous child ; it
was only the other day you broke a valuable
vase" (he forgot in his anger how little she
had really been to blame for that), "and now
you have caused me the loss of a rare speci
men which I had spent a great deal of time
and effort in procuring. Really, Elsie, I am
sorely tempted to administer a very severe
punishment."

Elsie caught at the arm of the settee for
support.

"Tell me what you did it for; was it pure
love of mischief?" asked her father, sternly,
taking hold of her arm and holding her tip
by it.

"No, papa," she answered, almost under
her breath. "I was sorry for the little bird.

196 ELSIE DINSMORE

I thought Arthur had put it there to torture it,
and so I let it go. I did not mean to do wrong,
papa, indeed I did not," and the tears fell
faster and faster.

"Indeed," said he, "you had no business to
meddle with it, let who would have put it
there. Which hand did it ? "

"This one, papa," sobbed the child, indi-
cating her right hand.

He took it in his and held it a moment, while
the little girl stood tremblingly awaiting what
was to come next. He looked at the downcast,
tearful face, the bosom heaving with sobs, and
then at the little trembling hand he held, so
soft, and white, and tender, and the sternness
of his countenance relaxed somewhat; it
seemed next to impossible to inflict pain upon
anything so tender and helpless ; and for a mo-
ment he was half inclined to kiss and forgive
her. But no ; he had been very much irritated
at his loss, and the remembrance of it again
aroused his anger, and well nigh extinguished
the little spark of love and compassion that
had burned for a moment in his heart. She
should be punished, though he would not inflict
physical pain.

"See, Elsie," laughed Louise, maliciously,
"he is feeling in his pocket for his knife. I
suspect he intends to cut your hand off."

ELSIE DINSMORE 197

Elsie started, and the tearful eyes we*e
raised to her father's face with a look half of
terrified entreaty, half of confidence that such
could not be his intention.

"Hush, Louise I" exclaimed her brother,
sternly; "you know you are not speaking
truly, and that I would as soon think of cut-
ting off: my own hand as my child's. You
should never speak anything but truth, espe-
cially to children."

"I think it is well enough to frighten them
a little sometimes, and I thought that was
what you were going to do," replied Louise,
looking somewhat mortified at the rebuke.

"No," said her brother, "that is a very bad
plan, and one which I shall never adopt. Elsie
will learn in time, if she does not know it now,
that I never utter a threat which I do not in-
tend to carry out, and never break my wordo"

He had drawn a handkerchief from his
pocket while speaking.

"I shall tie this hand up, Elsie," he said,
proceeding to do so; "those who do not use
their hands aright must be deprived of the use
of them. There! let me see if that will keep
it out of mischief. I shall tie you up hand and
foot before long, if you continue such mis-
chievous pranks. Now go to your room, and
stay there until tea-time."

198 ELSIE DINSMORE

Elsie felt deeply, bitterly disgraced and hu-
miliated as she turned to obey; and it needed
not Arthur's triumphant chuckle nor the smirk
of satisfaction on Enna's face to add to the
keen suffering of her wounded spirit; this
slight punishment was more to her than a se-
vere chastisement would have been to many
another child; for the very knowledge of her
father's displeasure was enough at any time
to cause great pain to her sensitive spirit and
gentle, loving heart.

Walter, who was far more tender-hearted
than either his brother or sister, felt touched
by the sight of her distress and ran after her
to say, " Never mind, Elsie, I am ever so sorry
for you, and I don't think you were the least
bit naughty."

She thanked him with a grateful look, and
a faint attempt to smile through her tears;
then hurried on to her room, where she seated
herself in a chair by the window, and laying
her arms upon the sill, rested her head upon
them, and while the bitter tears fell fast from
her eyes she murmured half aloud, "Oh! why
am I always so naughty $ always doing some-
thing to displease my dear papa I How I wish
I could be good, and make him love me! I'm
afraid he never will if I vex him so often."

ELSIE DINSMORE 199

Then an earnest, importunate prayer for
help to do right, and wisdom to understand
how to gain her father's love, went up from
the almost despairing little heart to Him whose
ear is ever open unto the cry of His suffering
children. And thus between weeping, mourn-
ing, and praying, an hour passed slowly away,
and the tea-bell rang.

Elsie started up, but sat down again, feel-
ing that she would much rather do without
her supper than show her tear-swollen eyes
and tied-up hand at the table.

But she was not to be left to her choice in
the matter, for presently there came a messen-
ger bringing a peremptory command from her
father "to come down immediately to her
supper."

"Did you not hear the bell?" he asked, in
his sternest tone, as she tremblingly took her
seat at his side.

"Yes, sir," she answered, in a low, tremu-
lous tone.

"Very well, then ; remember that you are al-
ways to come down the moment the bell rings,
unless you are directed otherwise, or are sick ;
and the next time you are so late, I shall send
you away without your meal."

"I don't want any supper, papa," she said,
humbly.

200 ELSIE DINSMORE

' 'Hush," lie replied, severely; "I will have
no pouting or sulking ; you must just eat your
supper and behave yourself. Stop this cry-
ing at once," he added, in an undertone, as he
spread some preserves on a piece of bread and
laid it on her plate, "or I shall take you away
from the table ; and, if I do, you will be very
sorry."

He watched her a moment while she made
a violent effort to choke back her tears.

"What is your hand tied up for, Elsie?"
asked her grandfather ; "have you been hurt f "

Elsie's face flushed painfully, but she made
no reply.

"You must speak when you are spoken to,"
said her father; "answer your grandfather's
question at once."

"Papa tied it up, because I was naughty,"
replied the little girl, vainly striving to sup-
press a sob.

Her father made a movement as if about to
lead her from the table.

"O papa! don't/' she cried, in terror; "I
will be good."

"Let me have no more crying, then," said
he; "this is shameful behavior for a girl eight
years old ; it would be bad enough in a child of
Enna's age." He took out his handkerchief
and wiped her eyes. "Now," said he, "begin

ELSIE DINSMORE 201

to eat your supper at once, and don't let me
have to reprove you again.' '

Elsie tried to obey, but it seemed very diffi-
cult, indeed almost impossible, while she knew
that her father was watching her closely, and
felt that everybody else was looking at her and
thinking, "What a naughty little girl you
are!"

"Oh!" thought the poor child, "if papa
would only quit looking at me, and the rest
would forget all about me and eat their sup-'
pers, maybe I could keep from crying." Then
she sent up a silent prayer for help, struggling
hard to keep back the tears and sobs that were
almost suffocating her, and taking up her slice
of bread, tried to eat.

She was very thankful to her Aunt Adelaide
for addressing a question to her papa just at
that moment, thus taking his attention from
her, and then adroitly setting them all to talk-
ing until the little girl had had time to recover
her composure, at least in a measure.

"May I go to my room now, papa?'* asked
the timid little voice, as they rose from the
table.

"No," he said, taking her hand and leading
her out to the veranda, where he settled him-
self in an easy-chair and lighted a cigar.

202 ELSIE DINSMORE

" Bring me that book that lies yonder on the
settee," he commanded.

She brought it.

"Now," said he, " bring that stool and set
yourself down here close at my knee, and let
me see if I can keep you out of mischief for
an hour or two."

"May I get a book to read, papa?" she
asked, timidly.

"No," said he, shortly; "you may just do
what I bid you, and nothing more nor less."

She sat down as he directed, with her face
turned toward him, and tried to amuse her-
self with her own thoughts, and watching the
expression of his countenance as he read on
and on, turning leaf after leaf, too much inter-
ested in his book to take any further notice of
her.

"How handsome my papa is!" thought the
little girl, gazing with affectionate admiration
into his face. And then she sighed, and tears
trembled in her eyes again. She admired her
father, and loved him, "Oh! so dearly," as she
often whispered to herself ; but would she ever
meet with anything like a return of her fond
affection? There was an aching void in her
heart which nothing else could fill; must it
always be thus? Was her craving for affec-
tion never to be satisfied? "O papa, my own

ELSIE DINSMORE 203

papa, will you never love me?" mourned the
sad little heart. "Ah! if I could only be good
always, perhaps he would; but I am so often
naughty ; — whenever he begins to be kind I am
sure to do something to vex him, and then it is
all over. Oh, I wish I could be good! I will
try very, very hard. Ah! if I might climb on
his knee now, and lay my head on his breast,
and put my arms round his neck, and tell him
how sorry I am that I have been naughty, and
made him lose his bird; and how much — oh!
how much I love him! But I know I never
could tell him that — I don't know how to ex-
press it; no words could, I am sure. And if
he would forgive me, and kiss me, and call me
his dear little daughter! Oh! will he ever call
me that? Or if I might only stand beside him
and lay my head on his shoulder, and he would
put his arm around me, it would make me so
happy."

An exclamation from Enna caused Elsie to
turn her head, and suddenly springing to her
feet, she exclaimed, in an eager, excited way:
"Papa, there is a carriage coming up the ave-
nue— it must be visitors ; please, please, papa,
let me go to my room."

"Why?" he asked, coolly, looking up from
his book, "why do you wish to go f "

"Because I don't want to see them, papa,"

204 ELSIE DINSMORE

she said, hanging her head and blushing
deeply; "I don't want them to see me."

"You are not usually afraid of visitors,"
he replied in the same tone.

"But they will see that my hand is tied up,
and they will ask what is the matter. O papa !
do, please do let me go quickly, before they get
here," she pleaded in an agony of shame and
haste.

"No," said he, "I shall not let you go, if it
were only to punish you for getting off the
seat where I bade you stay, without permis-
sion. You will have to learn that I am to be
obeyed at all times, and under all circum-
stances. Sit down, and don't dare to move
again until I give you leave."

Elsie sat down without another word, but
two bitter, scalding tears rolled quickly down
her burning cheeks.

"You needn't cry, Elsie," said her father;
"it is only an old gentleman who comes to see
your grandfather on business, and who, as he
never notices children, will not be at all likely
to ask any questions. I hope you will learn
some day, Elsie, to save your tears until there
is really some occasion for them."

The old gentleman had alighted while Mr.
Dinsmore was speaking ; Elsie saw that he was
alone, and the relief was so great that for once

ELSIE DINSMORE 205

she scarcely heeded her father's rebuke.

Another half-hour passed, and Mr. Dins-
more still sat reading, taking no notice of El-
sie, who, afraid to speak or move, was growing
very weary and sleepy. She longed to lay her
head on her father's knee, but dared not ven-
ture to take such a liberty; but at length she
was so completely overpowered by sleep as to
do so unconsciously.

The sound of his voice pronouncing her
name aroused her.

"You are tired and sleepy," said he; "if
you would like to go to bed, you may do so."

"Thank you, papa," she replied, rising to
her feet.

"Well," he said, seeing her hesitate, "speak
if you have anything to say."

"I am very sorry I was naughty, papa. Will
you please forgive me?" The words were
spoken very low, and almost with a sob.

"Will you try not to meddle in future, and
not to cry at the table, or pout and sulk when
you are punished?" he asked, in a cold, grave
tone.

"Yes, sir, I will try to be a good girl
always," said the humble little voice.

"Then I will forgive you," he replied, tak-
ing the handkerchief off her hand.

Still Elsie lingered. She felt as if she could

206 ELSIE DINSMORE

not go without some little token of forgiveness
and love, some slight caress.

He looked at her with an impatient "Well?"
Then, in answer to her mute request, "No," he
said, "I will not kiss you to-night; you have
been entirely too naughty. Go to your room
at once."

Aunt Chloe was absolutely frightened by the
violence of her child's grief, as she rushed into
the room and flung herself into her arms weep-
ing and sobbing most vehemently »

"What's de matter, darlin'?" she asked, in
great alarm.

"O mammy, mammy!" sobbed the child,
"papa wouldn't kiss me! He said I was too
naughty. 0 mammy, will he ever love me
now!"

CHAPTER VII.

"The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on."
— Shakespeare, Richard 111.

"A blossom full of promise is life's joy,
That never comes to fruit. Hope, for a time,
Suns the young flow'ret in its gladsome light,
And it looks flourishing — a little while —
'Tis pass'd, we know not whither, but 'tis gone."

Miss Landon.

It was Miss Day's custom to present to the
parents of her pupils a monthly report of their
conduct and recitations. The regular time for
this had occurred once since Mr. Horace Dins-
more 's return, when she, of course, handed
Elsie's to him.

It was very satisfactory, for Elsie was a
most diligent scholar, carrying her religious
principles into that as well as everything else ;
and disposed as Miss Day was to find fault
with her, she could seldom see any excuse for
so doing, in either her conduct or recitations.

Mr. Dinsmore glanced over the report and
handed it back, saying: "It's all very good;
very satisfactory, indeed. I am glad to see
that she is industrious and well behaved, for I

207

208 ELSIE DINSMORE

wish her to grow up an intelligent and amiable
woman."

Elsie, who was standing near, heard the
words, and they sent a glow of pleasure to her
cheeks. She looked up eagerly ; but her father
turned and walked away without taking any
notice of her, and the glow of happiness faded,
and the soft eyes filled with tears of wounded
feeling.

It was now time for a second report; but
alas ! the past month had been a most unfor-
tunate one for the little girl ; the weather was
very warm, and she had felt languid and weak,
and so much were her thoughts occupied with
the longing desire to gain her father 's love, so
depressed were her spirits by her constant fail-
ure to do so, that she often found it impossible
to give her mind to her lessons.

Arthur, too, during much of the time before
and since the week of his imprisonment, had
been more than usually annoying, shaking her
chair and jogging her elbow so frequently
when she was writing, that her copy-book pre-
sented by no means so good an appearance as
usual; and never had Miss Day made out so
poor a report for her. She carried it with
much secret satisfaction to the little girl's fa^
ther, and entered a long complaint of the
child's idleness and inattention.

ELSIE DINSMORE 209

"Send her to me," he said, angrily. "She
will find me in my own room."

Miss Day had left Elsie in the school-room
putting her desk in order after the day's work
and she found her still there on her return.

" Elsie," said she, with a malicious smile,
"your father wishes to see you immediately.
He is in his room."

The child turned red and pale by turns, and
trembled so violently that for a moment she
was quite unable to move ; for she guessed from
Miss Day's countenance what was probably in
store for her.

"I advise you to go at once," said that lady,
"for no doubt the longer you wait the worse
it will be for you."

At the same moment Mr. Dinsmore's voice
was heard calling in a stern, angry tone,
"Elsie!"

Making a violent effort to control her feel-
ings, she started up and hastened to obey.

The door of his room stood open, and she
walked in, asking in a trembling voice, "Did
you call me, papa?"

"Yes," said he, "I did. Come here to me!"

He was sitting with the copy-book and re-
port in his hand, and there was much severity
in both tone and look as he addressed her.

She obeyed instantly, but trembling vio-

210 ELSIE DINSMORE

lently, and with a face pale as death, and eyes
filled with tears. She lifted them pleadingly
to his face ; and, touched by her evident terror
and distress, he said in a tone somewhat less
stern: "Can you tell me, Elsie, how it hap-
pens that your teacher brings me so bad a re-
port of your conduct and lessons during the
past month? She says you have been very
idle ; and the report tells the same story ; and
this copy-book presents a shameful appear-
ance/ '

The child answered only by tears and sobs.

They seemed to irritate him.

" Elsie," he said, sternly, "when I ask a
question, I require an answer, and that in-
stantly. "

"O papa!" she answered, pleadingly, "I
couldn't study. I'm very sorry— I'll try to do
better — only don't be very angry with me,
dear papa."

"I am very angry with you; very angry,
indeed," said he, in the same severe tone, "and
very strongly inclined to punish you. You
couldn't study, eh? What reason can you as-
sign, pray? Were you not well?"

"I don't know, sir," sobbed the little girl.

"You don't know? Very well, then, I think
you could not be very ill without knowing it,
and so you seem to have no excuse at all to

ELSIE DINSMORE 2U

offer ? However, I will not inflict any punish-
ment upon you this time, as you seem to be
really sorry, and have promised to do better;
but beware how you let me see such a report
as this; or hear such complaints of idleness
again, unless you wish to be severely punished;
and I warn you that unless your next copy-
book presents a better appearance than this, I
certainly shall punish you.

" There are a number of pages here that
look quite well/' he continued, turning over
the leaves; "that shows what you can do, if
you choose; now there is an old saying, *A
bird that can sing, and won't sing, must be
made to sing.' Hush!" as Elsie seemed about
to speak; "not a word. You may go now."
And throwing himself back in his easy-chair,
he took up a newspaper and began to read.

Yet Elsie lingered ; her heart so yearned for
one word or look of sympathy and love; she
so longed to throw herself into his arms and
tell him how dearly, how very dearly she loved
him ; she did so hunger and thirst for one fond
caress — ah ! how could she go away without it
now, when for the very first time she found
herself alone with him in his own room, where
she had never ventured before, but where she
had often been in her brightest dreams.

And so she lingered, trembling, hoping,

212 ELSIE DINSMORE

fearing ; but presently he looked up with ai06l&
"Why do you stand there? I gave you per-
mission to go ; go at once." And with a sink-
ing heart she turned away and sought the soli-
tude of her own room, there to weep, and
mourn, and pray that she might one day pos-
sess the love she so pined for, and bitterly to
reproach herself for having by the failures of
the past month put it farther from her.

And soon a thought came to her which added
greatly to her distress. If Arthur continued
his persecutions, how could she make the next
copy-book more presentable % And in case it
were not, her father had said positively that
he would punish her; and oh! how could she
bear punishment from him, when a word or
look of displeasure almost broke her heart %

Miss Day seldom remained in the school-
room during the whole of the writing hour,
and sometimes the older girls were also absent,
so that Arthur had ample opportunity to in-
dulge his mischievous propensities; for Elsie
was above the meanness of telling tales, and
had she not been, Arthur was so great a
favorite with his mother that she would have
brought a great deal of trouble upon herself
by so doing.

She therefore saw no escape from the
dreaded punishment, unJess she could persuade

ELSIE DINSMORE 213

the perverse boy to cease bis annoyances ; and
of that there was little hope.

But she carried her trouble to her Heavenly
Father, -and asked Him to help her. She was
still on her knees, pouring out her sobs and
prayers, when someone knocked at the door.

She arose and opened it to find her Aunt
Adelaide standing there.

" Elsie/ ' she said, "I am writing to Miss
Rose ; have you any word to send ? You may
write a little note, if you choose, and I will
enclose it in my letter. But what is the mat-
ter, child V she suddenly exclaimed, kindly
taking the little girl's hand in hers.

With many tears and sobs Elsie told her
the whole story, not omitting her papa's threat,
and her fear that she could not, on account of
Arthur's persecutions, avoid incurring the
punishment.

Adelaide's sympathies were enlisted, and
she drew the sobbing child to her side, saying,
as she pressed a kiss on her cheek: " Never
mind, Elsie, I will take my book or needlework
to the school-room every day, and sit there
during the writing hour. But why don't you
tell your papa about it?"

" Because I don't like to tell tales, Aunt Ade-
laide, and it would make your mamma so

214 ELSIE DINSMORE

angry with me ; and, besides, I can't tell papa
anything."

"Ah, I understand! and no wonder; he is
strangely stern to the poor child. I mean to
give him a good talking to," murmured Ade-
laide, more as if thinking aloud than talking
to Elsie.

Then kissing the little girl again, she rose
hastily and left the room, with the intention
of seeking her brother, but he had gone out;
and when he returned he brought several gen-
tlemen with him, and she had no opportunity
until the desire to interfere in the matter had
passed from her mind.

"And it shall come to pass, that before they
call, I will answer, and while they are yet
speaking, I will hear." The promise had been
fulfilled to Elsie, and help had been sent her
in her trouble.

When her Aunt Adelaide left her, Elsie —
first carefully locking the door to guard
against a surprise visit 'from Enna — went to
her bureau, and unlocking a drawer, took out a
purse she was knitting for her father, to re-
place the one she had given to Miss Allison.

She had commenced it before his return, and
having spent upon it nearly every spare mo-
ment since, when she could feel secure from
intrusion, she now had it nearly completed.

ELSIE DINSMORE 215

Ah! many a silent tear had fallen as she
worked, and many a sigh over disappointed
hopes had been woven into its bright meshes
of gold and blue.

But now she had been much comforted and
encouraged by her aunt's sympathy and kind
promise of assistance, and, though there were
still traces of tears upon it, the little face
looked quite bright and cheerful again as she
settled herself in her little sewing chair, and
began her work.

The small white fingers moved right briskly,
the bright shining needles glancing in and out,
while the thoughts, quite as busy, ran on some-
thing in this fashion: "Ah! I am so sorry I
have done so badly the past month; no won-
der papa was vexed with me. I don't believe
I ever had such a bad report before. What
has come over me? It seems as if I can't
study, and must have a holiday. I wonder
if it is all laziness? I'm afraid it is, and that
I ought to be punished. I wish I could shake
it off, and feel industrious as I used to. I will
try very hard to do better this month, and per-
haps I can. It is only one month, and then
June will be over, and Miss Day is going North
to spend July and August, and maybe Septem-
ber, and so we shall have a long holiday.
Surely I can stand it one month more ; it will

216 ELSIE DINSMOREv

soon be over, though it does seem a long time,
and besides, this month we are not to study so
many hours, because it is so warm ; and there's
to be no school on Saturdays ; none to-morrow,
so that I can finish this. Ah! I wonder if
papa will be pleased?" and she sighed deeply.
"I'm afraid it will be a long, long time before
he will be pleased with me again. I have dis-
pleased him twice this week — first about the
bird, and now this bad report, and that shame-
ful copy-book. But oh ! I will try so hard next
month, and dear Aunt Adelaide will keep Ar-
thur from troubling me, and I'm determined
my copy-book shall look neat, and not have a
single blot in it.

"I wonder how I shall spend the vacation?
Last summer I had such a delightful visit at
Ashlands ; and then they were here all the rest
of the time. It was then poor Herbert had
such a dreadful time with his hip. Ah! how
thankful I ought to be that I am not lame, and
have always Ireen so healthy. But I'm afraid
papa won't let me go there this summer, nor
ask them to visit me, because he said he
thought Lucy was not a suitable companion
for me. I was very naughty when she was
here, and I've been naughty a great many
times since. Oh! dear, shall I never, never
learn to be good % It seems to me I am naughty

ELSIE DINSMORE 217

now much oftener than I used to be before
papa came home. I'm afraid he will soon be-
gin to punish me severely, as he threatened
to-day. I wonder what he means V f

A crimson tide suddenly swept over the fair
face and neck, and dropping her work, she
covered her face with her hands. "Oh! he
couldn't, couldn't mean that! how could I ever
bear it! and yet if it would make me really
good, I think I wouldn't mind the pain — but
the shame and disgrace ! oh ! it would break my
heart. I could never hold up my head again!
Oh! can he mean that? But I must just try
to be so very good that I will never deserve
punishment, and then it will make no differ-
ence to me what he means.' ' And with this
consolatory reflection she took up her work
again.

"Mammy, is papa in his room?" asked El-
sie, the next afternoon, as she put the finishing
touches to her work.

"No, darlin', Marster Horace he rode out
wid de strange gentlemen more than an hour
ago."

Elsie laid her needles away in her work-
basket, and opening her writing-desk, selected
a bit of note-paper, on which she wrote in her
very best hand: "A present for my dear papa,
from his little daughter Elsie !" This she care-

218 ELSIE DINSMORE

fully pinned to the purse, and then carried it
to her papa's room, intending to leave it on
his toilet-table.

Fearing that he might possibly have re-
turned, she knocked gently at the door, but re-
ceiving no answer opened it, and went in; but
she had not gone more than half way across
the room when she heard his voice behind her,
asking, in a tone of mingled surprise and dis-
pleasure, "What are you doing here in my
room, in my absence, Elsie V9

She started, and turned round, pale and
trembling, and lifting her eyes pleadingly to
his face, silently placed the purse in his hand.

He looked first at it, and then at her.

"I made it for you, dear papa," she said, in
a low, tremulous tone; "do please take it."

"It is really very pretty," he said, examin-
ing it; "is it possible it is your work? I had
no idea you had so much taste and skill.
Thank you, daughter, I shall take it, and use
it with a great deal of pleasure."

He took her hand as he spoke, and sitting
down, lifted her to his knee, saying, "Elsie,
my child, why do you always seem so afraid
of me? I don't like it."

With a sudden impulse she threw her arms
around his neck, and pressed her lips to his
cheek; then dropping her head on his breast,

ELSIE DINSMORE 219

she sobbed: "0 papa! dear papa, I do love
you so very dearly ! will you not love me % O
papa! love me a little. I know I've been
naughty very often, but I will try to be good."

Then for the first time he folded her in his
arms and kissed her tenderly, saying, in a
moved tone, "I do love you, my darling, my
own little daughter."

Oh! the words were sweeter to Elsie's ear
than the most delicious music ! her joy was too
great for words, for anything but tears,

' ' Why do you cry so, my darling ?" he asked,
soothingly, stroking her hair, and kissing her
again and again.

"O papa! because I am so happy, so very
happy," she sobbed.

"Do you indeed care so very much for my
love1?" he asked. "Then, my daughter, you
must not tremble and turn pale whenever I
speak to you, as though I were a cruel tyrant."

"O papa! I cannot help it, when you look
and speak so sternly. I love you so dearly I
cannot bear to have you angry with me; but
I'm not afraid of you now."

' ' That is right, " he said, caressing her again.
"But there is the tea-bell," he added, setting
her down. "Go into the dressing-room there,
and bathe your eyes, and then come to me."

She hastened to do his bidding, and then

220 ELSIE DINSMORE

taking her hand, he led her down and seated
her in her usual place by his side.
- There were visitors, and all his conversation
was addressed to them and the older members
of the family ; but he now and then bestowed
a kind look upon his little girl, and attended
carefully to all her wants ; and Elsie was very
happy.

Everything now went on very pleasantly
with our little friend for some days; she did
not see a great deal of her father, as he was
frequently away from home for a day or two,
and when he returned, generally brought a
number of visitors with him ; but whenever he
did notice her it was very kindly, and she was
gradually overcoming the fear of him, and
constantly hoping that the time would soon
come when he would have more leisure to be-
stow upon her. She was happy now, and with
a mind at ease, was able to learn her lessons
well ; and as Aunt Adelaide faithfully kept her
promise and thus freed her from Arthur's an-
noyances, she was enabled to do justice to her
writing. She took great pains, her copy-book
showed a marked improvement in her penman-
ship, and its pages had not yet been defaced
by a single blot, so that she was looking
forward with pleasing anticipations to the

ELSIE DINSMORE 221

time when her report should again be pre-
sented to her father.

But, alas ! one unfortunate morning it hap-
pened that Miss Day was in a very bad humor
indeed — peevish, fretful, irritable, and un-
reasonable to the last degree; and, as usual,
Elsie was the principal sufferer from her ill
humor. She found fault with everything the
little girl did ; scolded her, shook her, refused
to explain the manner of working out a very
difficult example, or to permit her to apply to
anyone else for assistance, and then punished
her because it was done wrong ; and when the
child could no longer keep back her tears,
called her a baby for crying, and a dunce for
not understanding her arithmetic better.

All this Elsie bore meekly and patiently, not
answering a word; but her meekness seemed
only to provoke the governess the more, and
finally, when Elsie came to recite her last les-
son, she took pains to put her questions in the
most perplexing form, and scarcely allowing
the child an instant to begin her reply,
answered them herself; then, throwing down
the book, scolded her vehemently for her bad
lesson, and marked it in her report as a com-
plete failure.

Poor Elsie could bear no more, but bursting
into fears and sobs, said: "Miss Day, I did

222 ELSIE DINSMORE

know my lesson, every word of it, if you had
asked the questions as usual, or had given me
time to answer. ' '

"I say that you did not know it ; that it was
a complete failure," replied Miss Day,
angrily ; i l and you shall just sit down and learn
it, every word, over."

"I do know it, if you will hear me right,"
said Elsie, indignantly, " and it is very unjust
in you to mark it a failure."

" Impudence!" exclaimed Miss Day, furi-
ously. ' ■ How dare you contradict me 1 I shall
take you to your father."

And seizing her by the arm, she dragged her
across the room, and opening the door, pushed
her into the passage.

"Oh! don't, Miss Day," pleaded the little
girl, turning toward her, pale and tearful,
"don't tell papa."

"I will! so just walk along with you," was
the angry rejoinder, as she pushed her before
her to Mr. Dinsmore's door. It stood open,
and he sat at his desk, writing.

"What is the matter?" he asked, looking up
as they appeared before the door.

"Elsie has been very impertinent, sir," said
Miss Day; "she not only accused me of in-
justice, but contradicted me flatly."

"Is it possible?" said he, frowning angrily.

ELSIE DINSMORE 223

"Come here to me, Elsie, and tell me, is it true
that you contradicted your teacher I"

"Yes, papa," sobbed the child.

"Very well, then, I shall certainly punish
you, for I will never allow anything of the
kind."

As he spoke he picked up a small ruler that
lay before him, at the same time taking Elsie's
hand as though he meant to use it on her.

"O papa!" she cried, in a tone of agonized
entreaty.

But he laid it down again, saying: "No, I
shall punish you by depriving you of your
play this afternoon, and giving you only bread
and water for your dinner. Sit down there,"
he added, pointing to a stool. Then, with a
wave of his hand to the governess, "I think she
will not be guilty of the like again, Miss Day."

The governess left the room, and Elsie sat
down on her stool, crying and sobbing vio-
lently, while her father went on with his
writing.

"Elsie," he said, presently, "cease that
noise; I have had quite enough of it."

She struggled to suppress her sobs, but it
was almost impossible, and she felt it a great
relief when a moment later the dinner-bell
rang, and her father left the room.

In a few moments a servant came in, carry-

224 ELSIE DINSMORE

ing on a small waiter a tumbler of water, and
a plate with a slice of bread on it.

"Dis am drefful poor fare, Miss Elsie, " he
said, setting it down beside her, "but Massa
Horace he say it all you can hab; but if you
say so, dis chile tell ole Phoebe to send up
somethin' better 'fore Massa Horace gits
through his dinner."

"Oh! no, thank you, Pompey; you're very
kind, but I would not disobey or deceive papa, ' '
replied the little girl, earnestly; "and I am
not at all hungry."

He lingered a moment, seeming loath to
leave her to dine upon such fare.

"You had better go now, Pompey," she said,
gently; "I am afraid you will be wanted."

He turned and left the room, muttering
something about "disagreeable, good-for-
nothing Miss Day!"

Elsie felt no disposition to eat; and when
her father returned, half an hour afterward,
the bread and water were still untouched.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, |
in a stern, angry tone; "why have you not
eaten what I sent you?"

"I am not hungry, papa," she said, humbly.

"Don't tell me that," he replied, "it is noth-
ing but stubbornness; and I shall not allow
you to show such a temper. Take up that

ELSIE DINSMORE 225

bread this moment and eat it. You shall eat
every crumb of the bread and drink every drop
of the water."

She obeyed him instantly, breaking off a bit
of bread and putting it in her mouth, while
he stood watching her with an air of stern,
cold determination; but when sht attempted
to swallow, it seemed utterly impossible.

"I cannot, papa," she said, "it chokes me."

"You must!" he replied; "I am going to
be obeyed. Take a drink of water, and that
will wash it down."

It was a hard task, but seeing that there
was no escape, she struggled to obey, and at
length every crumb of bread and drop of
water had disappeared.

"Now, Elsie," said her father, in a tone of
great severity, "never dare to show me such
a temper as this again ; you will not escape so
easily next time ; remember I am to be obeyed
always; and when I send you anything to eat,
you are to eat it."

It had not been temper at all, and his unjust
severity almost broke her heart ; but she could
not say one word in her own defence.

He looked at her a moment as she sat there
trembling and weeping ; then saying, "I forbid
you to leave this room without my permission ;

226 ELSIE DINSMORE

don't venture to disobey me, Elsie; sit where
you are until I return," lie turned to go.

"Papa," she asked, pleadingly, "may I have
my books to learn my lessons for to-morrow V1

"Certainly," he said; "I will send a servant
with them."

"And my Bible, too, please, papa?"

"Yes, yes," he answered, impatiently, as
he went out and shut the door.

Jim was just bringing up Elsie's horse, as
Mr. Dinsmore passed through the hall, and he
stepped out to order it back to the stable, say-
ing that Miss Elsie was not going to ride.

"What is the trouble with Elsie t" asked his
sister Adelaide, as he returned to the drawing-
room and seated himself beside her.

"She has been impertinent to her governess,
and I have confined her to my room for the
rest of the day," he replied, rather shortly.

"Are you sure, Horace, that Elsie was so
much to blame?" asked his sister, speaking in
a tone too low to reach any ear but his. "I
am certain, from what Lora tells me, that Miss
Day is often cruelly unjust to her — more so
than to any other of her pupils."

He looked at her with a good deal of sur-
prise.

"Are you not mistaken I" he asked.

ELSIE DINSMORE 227

"No! it is a positive fact that she does at
times really abuse her."

"Indeed! I shall certainly not allow that,"
he said, coloring with anger.

"But in this instance, Adelaide," he said,
thoughtfully, "I think you must be mistaken,
for Elsie acknowledged that she had been im-
pertinent. I did not condemn her unheard,
stern and severe as you think me."

"If she was, Horace, believe me, it must
have been only after great provocation, and
her acknowledgment of it is no proof at all,
to my mind ; for Elsie is so humble, she would
think she must have been guilty of imperti-
nence if Miss Day accused her of it."

"Surely not, Adelaide; she is by no means
wanting in sense," he replied, in a tone of in-
credulity, not unmixed with annoyance.

Then he sat thinking a moment, half inclined
to go to his child and inquire more particularly
into the circumstances, but soon relinquished
the idea, saying to himself: "No; if she does
not choose to be frank with me, and say what
she can in her own defence, she deserves to
suffer ; and, besides, she showed such stubborn-
ness about eating that bread."

He was very proud, and did not like to
acknowledge even to himself that he had pun-
ished his child unjustly — much less to her;

228 ELSIE DINSMORE

and it was not until near tea-time that lie re-
turned to his room, entering so softly that
Elsie did not hear him.

She was sitting just where he had left her,
bending over her Bible, an expression of sad-
ness and deep humility on the sweet little face,
so young and fair and innocent. She did not
seem aware of his presence until he was close
beside her, when, looking up with a start, she
said, in a voice full of fears: "Dear papa, I
am very sorry for all my naughtiness; will
you please forgive me!"

"Yes," he said, "certainly I will, if you are
really sorry"; and, stooping, he kissed her
coldly, saying, "Now go to your room, and let
Chloe dress you for tea."

She rose at once, gathered up her "books, and
went out.

The little heart was very sad, for her fa-
ther's manner was so cold she feared he would
never love her again. And she was particu-
larly distressed by the bad mark given her for
recitation that day, because she knew the time
was now drawing very near when her report
must be handed in to her papa; and the de-
light with which she had hitherto looked for-
ward to receiving his well-merited approba-
tion was now changed to fear, and dread of his
displeasure ; yet she knew she had not deserved

ELSIE DINSMORE 229

the bad mark, and again and again she deter-
mined that she would tell her father all about
it ; but his maimer had now become so cold and
stern that she could not summon up courage
to do so, but put it off from day to day, until
it was too late.

CHAPTER VIIL

"He that pursues an act that is attended
With doubtful issues, for the means, had need
Of policy and force to make it speed."

— T. Nabb's Unfortunate Mother.

"Joy never feasts so high,
As when the first course is of misery."

—Suckling's Aglawra.

It was Friday, and the next morning was the
time when the reports were to be presented.
School had closed, and all but Elsie had al-
ready left the room, but she was carefully
arranging the books, writing and drawing ma-
terials, etc., in her desk, for she was very neat
and orderly in her habits.

When she had quite finished her work she
took up her report-book, and glanced over it.
As her eye rested for an instant upon the one
bad mark, she sighed a little, and murmured
to herself, "I am so sorry; I wish papa knew
how little I really deserved it. I don't know
why I never can get the courage to tell him."

Then, laying it aside, she opened her copy-
book and turned over the leaves with unalloyed
pleasure, for not one of its pages was defaced

231

232 ELSIE DINSMORE

by a single blot, and from beginning to end it
gave evidence of painstaking carefulness and
decided improvement.

"Ah! surely this will please dear papa!" she
exclaimed, half aloud. "How good Aunt Ade-
laide was to sit here with me !"

Then, putting it carefully in its place, she
closed and locked the desk, and carrying the
key to her room, laid it on the mantel, where
she was in the habit of keeping it.

Now it so happened that afternoon that Ar-
thur, who had made himself sick by over-
indulgence in sweetmeats, and had in conse-
quence been lounging about the house doing
nothing for the last day or two, remained at
home while all the rest of the family were out,
walking, riding, or visiting.

He was not usually very fond of reading,
but while lying on the lounge in the nursery,
very much in want of some amusement, it
suddenly occurred to him that he would like
to look at a book he had seen Elsie reading that
morning.

To be sure the book belonged to her, and she
was not there to be consulted as to her willing-
ness to lend it ; but that made no difference to
Arthur, who had very little respect for the
rights of property, excepting where his own
were concerned.

ELSIE DINSMORE 233

Elsie, he knew, was out, and Chloe in the
kitchen; so, feeling certain there would be no
one to interfere with him, he went directly
to the little girl's room to look for the book.
He soon found it lying on the mantel ; but the
desk-key lay right beside it, and as he caught
sight of that he gave a half scream of delight,
for he guessed at once to what lock it belonged,
and felt that he now could accomplish the re-
venge he had plotted ever since the affair of
the watch.

He put out his hand to take it, but drew it
back again, and stood for a moment balancing
in his mind the chances of detection.

He could deface Elsie's copy-book, but Ade-
laide could testify to the little girl's careful-
ness and the neatness of her work up to that
very day, for she had been in the school-room
that morning during the writing hour. But
then Adelaide had just left home to pay a visit
to a friend living at some distance, and would
not return for several weeks, so there was little
danger from that quarter. Miss Day, to be
sure, knew the appearance of Elsie's book
quite as well, but there was still less danger of
her interference, and he was pretty certain no
one else knew.

So he decided to run the risk, and laying
down the book, he took the key, went to the

234 ELSIE DINSMORE

door, looked carefully up and down the hall
to make sure of not being seen by any of the
servants, and having satisfied himself on that
point, hurried to the school-room, unlocked
Elsie's desk, took out her copy-book, and dip-
ping a pen in the ink, proceeded deliberately
to blot nearly every page in it; on some he
made a large blot, on others a small one, and on
some two or three ; and also scribbled between
the lines and on the margin, so as completely
to deface poor Elsie's work.

But to do Arthur justice, though he knew
his brother would be pretty sure to be very;
angry with Elsie, he did not know of the
threatened punishment. He stopped onee or
twice as he thought he heard a footstep, and
shut down the lid until it had passed, when he
raised it again and went on with his wicked
work. It did not take long, however, and he
soon replaced the copy-book in the precise
spot in which he had found it, wiped the pen,
and put it carefully back in its place, reloeked
the desk, hurried back to Elsie's room, put the
key just where he had found it, and taking the
book, returned to the nursery without having
met anyone.

He threw himself down on a couch and tried
to read, but in vain ; he could not fix his atten-
tion upon the page — could think of nothing

ELSIE DINSMORE 235

but the mischief he had done, and its probable
consequences; and now, when it was too late,
he more than half repented. Yet, as to con-
fessing and thus saving Elsie from unmerited
blame, he did not for a single moment enter-
tain the thought. But at length it suddenly
occurred to him that if it became known that
he had been into Elsie's room to get the book
he might be suspected ; and he started up with
the intention of replacing it. But he found
that it was too late ; she had already returned,
for he heard her voice in the hall; so he lay
down again, and kept the book until she came
in search of it.

He looked very guilty as the little girl came
in, but not seeming to notice it, she merely
said: "I am looking for my book. I thought
perhaps someone might have brought it in
here. Oh! you have it, Arthur! well, keep it,
if you wish ; I can read it just as well another
time."

"Here, take it," said he, roughly, pushing it
toward her; "I don't want it; 'tisn't a bit
pretty."

"I think it is very interesting, and you are
quite welcome to read it if you wish," she
answered, mildly; "but if you don't care to,
I will take it."

"Young ladies and gentlemen," said the

236 ELSIE DINSMORE

governess, as they were about closing their ex-
ercises the next morning, "this is the regular
day for the reports, and they are all made out.
Miss Elsie, here is yours; bring your copy-
book, and carry both to your papa."

Elsie obeyed, not without some trembling,
yet hoping, as there was but one bad mark in
the report and the copy-book showed such evi-
dent marks of care and painstaking, her papa
would not be very seriously displeased.

It being the last day of the term, the exer-
cises of the morning had varied somewhat
from the usual routine, and the writing hour
had been entirely omitted; thus it happened
that Elsie had not opened her copy-book, and
was in consequence still in ignorance of its
altered appearance.

She found her father in his room. He took
the report first from her hand, and glancing
over it, said with a slight frown: "I see you
have one very bad mark for recitation ; but as
there is only one, and the others are remark-
ably good, I will excuse it."

Then taking the copy-book and opening it,
much to Elsie's surprise and alarm, he gave
her a glance of great displeasure, turned rap-
idly over the leaves, then laying it down, said
in his sternest tones, "I see I shall have to
keep my promise, Elsie."

ELSIE DINSMORE 237

" What, papa ?" she asked, turning pale with
terror.

"What!" said he; "do you ask me vThat?
Did I not tell you positively that I would pun-
ish you if your copy-book this month did not
present a better appearance than it did last?"

"O papa! does it not? I tried so very hard;
and there are no blots in it."

"No blots?" said he; "what do you call
these?" and he turned over the leaves again*
holding the book so that she could see them,
and showing that almost every one was blotted
in several places.

Elsie gazed at them in unfeigned astonish-
ment ; then, looking up into his face, she said,
earnestly but fearfully, "Papa, I did not do
it."

"Who did then?" he asked.

"Indeed, papa, I do not know," she replied.

"I must inquire into this business," he said,
rising, "and if it is not your fault you shall
not be punished; but if I find you have been
telling me a falsehood, Elsie, I shall punish
you much more severely than if you had not
denied your fault."

And taking her by the hand as he spoke, he
led her back to the school-room.

"Miss Day," said he, showing the book, "El-

238 ELSIE DINSMORE

sie says these blots are not her work; can you
tell me whose they are?"

"Miss Elsie generally tells the truth, sir,"
replied Miss Day, sarcastically, "but I must
say that in this instance I think she has failed,
as her desk has a good lock, and she herself
keeps the key."

"Elsie," he asked, turning to her, "is this
so?"

"Yes, papa."

"And have you ever left your desk un-
locked, or the key lying about?"

"No, papa; I am quite certain I have not,"
she answered, unhesitatingly, though her voice
trembled, and she grew very pale.

"Very well, then / am quite certain you
have told me a falsehood, since it is evident
this must have been your work. Elsie, I can
forgive anything but falsehood, but that I
never will forgive. Come with me. I shall
teach you to speak the truth to me at least, if
to no one else," and taking her hand again, he
led, or rather dragged, her from the room, for
he was terribly angry, his face fairly pale with
passion.

Lora came in while he was speaking, and,
certain that Elsie would never be caught in a
falsehood, her eye quickly sought Arthur's
desk.

ELSIE DINSMORE 239

He was sitting there with a very guilty
countenance.

She hastily crossed the room, and, speaking
in a low tone, said, "Arthur, you have had a
hand in this business I very well know; now
confess it quickly, or Horace will half kill
Elsie.' '

"You don't know anything about it," said
he, doggedly.

"Yes, I do," she answered; "and if you do
not speak out at once, / shall save Elsie, and
find means to prove your guilt afterwards;
so you had much better confess."

"Go away," he exclaimed, angrily, "I have
nothing to confess."

Seeing it was useless to try to move him,
Lora turned away and hurried to Horace's
room, which, in her haste, she entered with-
out knocking, he having fortunately neglected
to fasten the door. She was just in time: he
had a small riding whip in his hand, and Elsie
stood beside him, pale as death, too much
frightened even to cry, and trembling so that
she could scarcely stand.

He turned an angry glance on his sister as
she entered; but taking no notice of it, she
exclaimed, eagerly: "Horace, don't punish
Elsie, for I am certain she is innocent."

He laid down the whip, asking, "How do

240 ELSIE DINS1HORE

you know it 1 What proof have you % I shall
be very glad to be convinced," he added, his
countenance relaxing somewhat in its stern
and angry expression.

"In the first place," replied his sister,
"there is Elsie's established character for
truthfulness — in all the time she has been with
us, we have ever found her perfectly truthful
in word and deed. And then, Horace, what
motive could she have had for spoiling her
book, knowing as she did that certain punish-
ment would follow? Besides, I am sure Ar-
thur is at the bottom of this, for, though he
will not acknowledge, he does not deny it. Ah !
yes, and now I recollect, I saw and examined
Elsie's book only yesterday, and it was then
quite free from blots."

A great change had come over her brother's
countenance while she was speaking.

"Thank you, Lora," he said, cordially, as
soon as she had done, "you have quite con-
vinced me, and saved me from punishing El-
sie as unjustly as severely. That last assur-
ance I consider quite sufficient of itself to
establish her innocence."

Lora turned and went out feeling very
happy, and as she closed the door, Elsie's papa
took her in his arms, saying, in loving, tender
tones: "My poor little daughter; my own dar-

ELSIE DINSMORE 241

ling child ! I have been cruelly unjust to you,
have I not?"

"Dear papa, you thought I deserved it,"
she said, with a burst of tears and sobs, throw-
ing her arms around his neck, and laying her
head on his breast.

"Do you love me, Elsie, dearest?" he asked,
folding her closer to his heart.

"Ah! so very, very much; better than all the
world beside. O papa ! if you would only love
me!" The last word was almost a sob.

"I do, my darling, my own precious child,"
he said, caressing her again and again. "I do
love my little girl, although I may at times
seem cold and stern ; and I am more thankful
than words can express that I have been saved
from punishing her unjustly. I could never
forgive myself if I had done it. I would rather
have lost half I am worth ; also I fear it would
have turned all her love for me into hatred;
and justly, too."

"No, papa, oh! no, no; nothing could ever do
that!" and the little arms were clasped closer
and closer about his neck, and the tears again
fell like rain, as she timidly pressed her quiv-
ering lips to his cheek.

"There, there, daughter! don't cry any
more; we will try to forget all about it, and
talk of something else," he said, soothingly.

242 ELSIE DINSMORE

u

Elsie, dear, your Aunt Adelaide thinks per-
haps you were not so very much to blame the
other day; and now I want you to tell me all
the circumstances; for, though I should be
very sorry to encourage you to find fault with
your teacher, I am by no means willing to
have you abused."

"Please, papa, don't ask me," she begged
"Aunt Lora was there, and she will tell you
about it."

"No, Elsie," he said, very decidedly, "I
want the story from you; and, remember, I
want every word that passed between you and
Miss Day, as far as you can possibly recall it."

Seeing that he was determined, Elsie obeyed
him, though with evident reluctance, and strivr
ing to put Miss Day's conduct in as favorable
a light as consistent with truth, while she by
no means extenuated her own ; yet her father
listened with feelings of strong indignation.

"Elsie," he said, when she had done, "if X
had known all this at the time, I should not
have punished you at all. Why did you not
tell me, my daughter, how. you have been ill
treated and provoked1?"

"O papa! I could not; you know, you did
not ask me."

"I did ask you if it was true that you con-
tradicted her, did I not ?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 243

"Yes, papa; and it was true."

"You ought to have told me the whole story,
though ; but I see how it was — I frightened you
by my sternness. Well, daughter," he added,
kissing her tenderly, "I shall endeavor to be
less stern in future, and you must try to be
less timid and more at your ease with me."

"I will, papa," she replied, meekly; "but
indeed I cannot help feeling frightened when
you are angry with me."

Mr. Dinsmore sat there a long time with his
little daughter on his knee, caressing her more
tenderly than ever before ; and Elsie was very
happy, and talked more freely to him than she
had ever done, telling him of her joys and her
sorrows ; how dearly she had loved Miss Alli-
son— what happy hours they had spent to-
gether in studying the Bible and in prayer —
how grieved she was when her friend went
away— and how intensely she enjoyed the little
letter now and then received from her ; and he
listened to it all, apparently both pleased and
interested, encouraging her to go on by an
occasional question or a word of assent or
approval.

"What is this, Elsie?" he asked, taking hold
of the chain she always wore around her neck,
and drawing the miniature from her bosom.

But as he touched the spring the case flew

244 ELSIE DINSMOREi

open,, revealing the sweet, girlish face, it
needed not Elsie's low murmured "Mamma"
to tell him who that lovely lady was.

He gazed upon it with emotion, carried back
in memory to the time when for a few short
months she had been his own most cherished
treasure. Then, looking from it to his child,
he murmured, " Yes, she is very like — the same
features, the same expression, complexion,
hair and all — will be the very counterpart of
her if she lives.' '

"Dear papa, am I like mammal" asked El-
sie, who had caught a part of his words.

"Yes, darling, very much indeed, and I hope
you will grow more so."

"You loved mamma?" she said, inquiringly.

* * Dearly, very dearly. ' '

"0 papa ! tell me about her ! do, dear papa,"
she pleaded, eagerly.

"I have not much to tell," he said, sighing.
"I knew her only for a few short months ere
we were torn asunder, never to meet again on
earth."

"But we may hope to meet her in heaven,
dear papa," said Elsie softly, "for she loved
Jesus, and if we love Him we shall go there too
when we die. Do you love Jesus, papa?" she
timidly inquired, for she had seen him do a
number of things which she knew to be wrong

ELSIE DINSMORE 245

— such as riding out for pleasure on the Sab-
bath, reading secular newspapers, and en-
gaging in worldly conversation — and she
greatly feared he did not.

But instead of answering her question, he
asked, "Do you, Elsie V

"Oh! yes, sir; very, very much; even better
than I love you, my own dear papa."

"How do you know?" he asked, looking
keenly into her face.

"Just as I know that I love you, papa, or
anyone else," she replied, lifting her eyes to
his face in evident surprise at the strange-
ness of the question. "Ah, papa," she added,
in her own sweet, simple way, "I do so love
to talk of Jesus; to tell Him all my troubles,
and ask Him to forgive my sins and make me
holy ; and then it is so sweet to know that He
loves me, and will always love me, even if no
one else does."

He kissed her very gravely, and set her
down, saying, "Go now, my daughter, and pre-
pare for dinner ; it is almost time for the bell."

"You are not displeased, papa?" she in-
quired, looking up anxiously into his face.

"No, darling, not at all," he replied, strok-
ing her hair. ' ' Shall I ride with my little girl
this afternoon?"

246 ELSIE DINSMORE

•'Oh, papa! do you really mean it? I shall
be so glad!" she exclaimed, joyfully.

"Very well, then," he said, "it is settled.
But go now; there is the bell. No, stay!" he
added, quickly, as she turned to obey; "think
a moment and tell me where you put the key
of your desk yesterday, for it must have been
then the mischief was done. Had you it with
you when you rode out?"

Suddenly Elsie's face flushed, and she ex-
claimed eagerly, "Ah! I remember now! I
left it on the mantel-piece, papa, and "

But here she paused, as if sorry she had
said so much.

"And what?" he asked.

"I think I had better not say it, papa! I'm
afraid I ought not, for I don't really hnow
anything, and it seems so wrong to suspect
people."

"You need not express any suspicions,"
said her father; "I do not wish you to do so;
but I must insist upon having all the facts
you can furnish me with. Was Aunt Chloe in
your room all the time you were away?"

"No, sir; she told me she went down to the
kitchen directly after I left, and did not come
up again until after I returned."

"Very well; do you know whether anyone
else entered the room during your absence?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 247

"I do not know, papa, but I think Arthur
must have been in, because when I came home
I found him reading a book which I had left
lying on the mantel-piece," she answered, in
a low, reluctant tone.

"Ah, ha! that is just it! I see it all now,"
he exclaimed, with a satisfied nod. "There,
that will do, Elsie; go now and make haste
down to your dinner."

But Elsie lingered, and, in answer to a look
of kind inquiry from her father, said eoax-
ingly, "Please, papa, don't be very angry
with him. I think he did not know bow much
I cared about my book."

"You are very forgiving, Elsie; but go,
child, I shall not abuse him," Mr. Dinsmore
answered, with an imperative gesture, and the
little girl hurried from the room.

It happened that just at this time the elder
Mr. Dinsmore and his wife were paying a visit
to some friends in the city, and thus Elsie's
papa had been left head of the house for the
time. Arthur, knowing this to be the state of
affairs, and that though his father was ex-
pected to return that evening, his mother
would be absent for some days, was beginning
to be a good deal fearful of the consequences
of his misconduct, and not without reason, for
his brother's wrath was now fully aroused,

248 ELSIE DINSMORE

and lie was determined that the boy should
not on this occasion escape the penalty of his
misdeeds.

Arthur was already in the dining-room when
Mr. Dinsmore came down.

"Arthur," said he, "I wish you to step into
the library a moment; I have something to
say to you."

"I don't want to hear it," muttered the boy,
with a dogged look, and standing perfectly
still.

"I dare say not, sir; but that makes no dif-
ference," replied his brother. "Walk into the
library at once."

Arthur returned a scowl of defiance, mut-
tering almost under his breath, "I'll do as I
please about that;" but cowed by his brother's
determined look and manner, he slowly and
reluctantly obeyed.

"Now, sir," said Mr. Dinsmore, when he
had him fairly in the room, and had closed
the door behind them, "I wish to know how
you came to meddle with Elsie's copy-book."

"I didn't," was the angry rejoinder.

"Take care, sir; I know all about it," said
Mr. Dinsmore, in a warning tone; "it is use-
less for you to deny it. Yesterday, while
Elsie was out and Aunt Chloe in the kitchen,
you went to her room, took the key of her desk

ELSIE DINSMOKE 249

from the mantel-piece where she had left it,
went to the school-room and did the mischief,
hoping to get her into trouble thereby, and
then relocking the desk and returning the key
to its proper place, thought you had escaped
detection ; and I was very near giving my poor,
innocent little girl the whipping you so richly
deserve."

Arthur looked up in astonishment.

"Who told you?" he asked; " nobody saw
me;" then, catching himself, said hastily, "I
tell you I didn't do it. I don't know anything
about it."

"Will you dare to tell me such a falsehood
as that again V exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore,
angrily, taking him by the collar and shaking
him roughly.

"Let me alone now," whined the culprit.
"I want my dinner, I say."

"You'll get no dinner to-day, I can tell you,"
replied his brother. "I am going to lock you
into your bedroom, and keep you there until
after your father comes home ; and then if he
doesn't give you the flogging you deserve, I
will ; for I intend you shall have your deserts
for once in your life. I know that all this is
in revenge for Elsie's forced testimony in the
affair of the watch, and I gave you fair warn-
ing then that I would see to it that any attempt

250 ELSIE DINSMORE

to abuse my child should receive its just
reward."

He took the boy by the arm as he spoke, to
lead him from the room.

At first Arthur seemed disposed to resist;
but soon, seeing how useless it was to contend
against such odds, he resigned himself to his
fate, saying sullenly, "You wouldn't treat me
this way if mamma was at home."

"She is not, however, as it happens, though
I can tell you that even she could not save you
now," replied his brother, as he opened the
bedroom door, and pushing him in, locked it
upon Mm, and put the key in his pocket.

Mr. Horace Dinsmore had almost un-
bounded influence over his father, who was
very proud of him; the old gentleman also
utterly despised everything mean and under-
handed, and upon being made acquainted by
Horace with Arthur's misdemeanors he in-
dicted upon him as severe a punishment as
anyone could have desired.

CHAPTER IX.

"Keep the Sabbath day to sanctify it, as the Lord
thy God hath commanded thee." — Deut. v. 12.

"She is mine own;
And I as rich in having such a jewel
As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold."
Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona.

And now happy days had come to the little
Elsie. Her father treated her with the tender-
est affection, and kept her with him almost
constantly, seeming scarcely willing to have
her out of his sight for an hour. He took her
with him wherever he went in his rides and
walks and visits to the neighboring planters.
She was much admired for her beauty and
sweetness of disposition, much caressed and
flattered, but, through it all, lost none of her
native modesty, but was ever the same meek,
gentle little girl. She felt grateful for all the
kindness she received, and liked to visit with
her papa; but her happiest days were spent
at home on those rare occasions when they
were free from visitors, and she could sit for
hours on his knee, or by his side, talking or

251

252 ELSIE DINSMORE

reading to him, or working at her embroidery,
or knitting and listening while he read. He
helped her with all her studies, taught her
something of botany and geology in their
walks, helped her to see and correct the faults
of her drawing, sang with her when she played,
bought her quantities of new music, and en-
gaged the best masters to instruct her — in
short, took a lively interest in all her pursuits
and pleasures, gave her every indulgence, and
lavished upon her the tenderest caresses. He
was very proud of her beauty, her sweetness,
her intelligence, and talent; and nothing
pleased him better than to hear them spoken
of by others in terms of praise.

And Elsie was very happy; the soft eyes
grew bright with happiness, and the little face
lost its pensive expression, and became as
round, rosy and merry as Enna's.

Miss Day went North, expecting to be ab-
sent several months, and Elsie's papa took her
traveling, spending some time at different
watering-places. It was her first journey since
she had been old enough to care for such things
and she enjoyed it exceedingly. They left
home in July, and did not return until Sep-
tember, so that the little girl had time to rest
and recruit, both mentally and physically, and
was ready to begin her studies again with zeal

ELSIE DINSMORE 253

and energy; yet it was so pleasant to be her
papa's constant companion, and she had so
enjoyed her freedom from the restraints of
the school-room, that she was not at all sorry
to learn, on their arrival at Roselands, that
the governess would still be absent for some
weeks.

"How bright and happy the child looks 1"
was Adelaide's remark, on the day of their
return, as, from the opposite side of the room,
she watched the speaking countenance of the
little girl, who was giving Enna and the boys
an animated description of her journey.

"Yes," said Lora, "and how entirely she
seems to have overcome her fear of her
father!" for at that instant Elsie suddenly
left the little group, and running to him,
leaned confidingly on his knee, while appar-
ently urging some request, which he answered
with a smile and a nod of acquiescence, when
she left the room, and presently returned
carrying a richly bound book of engravings.

Yes, Elsie had lost her fear of her father,
and could now talk to him, and tell him her
feelings and wishes, as freely as ever Enna
did ; and no wonder, for in all these weeks he
had never given her one harsh word or look;
but indeed he had had no occasion to do so,
for she was always docile and obedient.

254 ELSIE DINSMORE

It was Sabbath afternoon — the first Sabbath
after their return — and Elsie was in her own
room alone with the books she loved best —
her Bible, hymn book, and "Pilgrim's Prog-
ress.' '

She had spent a very happy hour in self-
examination, reading and prayer, and was
singing to herself in a low tone her favorite
hymn,

"I lay my sins on Jesus,"
while turning over the leaves of her Bible to
find the story of Elijah, which she had prom-
ised to read to Chloe that afternoon, when a
child's footsteps were heard coming down the
hall, the handle of the door was turned hastily,
and then, as it refused to yield, Enna's voice
called out in a fretful, imperious tone, "Open
this door, Elsie Dinsmore. I want to come
in, I say."

Elsie sighed, as she thought, "There is an
end to my nice afternoon," but she rose at
once, and quickly crossing the room, opened
the door, asking pleasantly, "What do you
want, Enna?"

"I told you I wanted to come in," replied
Enna, saucily, "and now you've got to tell me
a story to amuse me ; mamma says so, because
you know I've got a cold, and she won't let
me go out."

ELSIE DINSMORE 255

"Well, Enna," said Elsie, patiently, "I am
going to read a very beautiful story to mammy,
and you are quite welcome to sit here and
listen."

"I sha'n't have it read! I said you were
to tell it. I don't like to hear reading," re-
plied Enna, in her imperious way, at the same
time taking quiet possession of Elsie's little
rosewood rocking-chair — a late present from
her papa, and highly prized by the little girl
on that account — and beginning to scratch
with her thumb nail upon the arm.

"Oh! don't scratch my pretty new chair,
Enna!" Elsie entreated; "it is papa's present,
and I wouldn't have it spoiled for a great
deal."

"I will; who cares for your old chair?" was
the reply, in a scornful tone, as she gave an-
other and harder dig with her nail. "You're
a little old maid — so particular with all your
things — that's what mamma says you are.
Now tell me that story."

"I will tell you a story if you will stop
scratching my chair, Enna," said Elsie, almost
with tears in her eyes, "I will tell you about
Elijah on Mount Carmel or Belshazzar's feast,
or the children in the fiery furnace, or "

"I sha'n't hear any of those! I don't want
any of your old Bible stories," interrupted

256 ELSIE DINSMORE

Enna, insolently. "You must tell me that
pretty fairy tale Herbert Carrington is so
fond of."

"No, Enna; I cannot tell you that to-day,"
replied Elsie, speaking gently, but very firmly.

"I say you shall!" screamed Enna, spring-
ing to her feet. "I'll just go and tell mamma,
and she'll make you do it."

"Stay, Enna," said Elsie, catching her hand
to detain her ; " I will tell you any story I know
that is suitable for the Sabbath ; but I cannot
tell the fairy tale to-day, because you know it
would be wrong. I will tell it to you to-mor-
row, though, if you will wait. "

"You're a bad girl, and I'll just tell mamma
of you," exclaimed Enna, passionately, jerking
her hand away and darting from the room.

"Oh! if papa was only at home," sighed
Elsie, sinking into her rocking-chair, pale and
trembling ; but she knew that he had gone out
riding, and would probably not return for
some time; he had invited her to accompany
him, but she had begged to be allowed to stay
at home, and he had let her have her wish.

As she feared, she was immediately sum-
moned to Mrs. Dinsmore's presence.

"Elsie," said that lady, severely, "are you
not ashamed of yourself, to refuse Enna such
a small favor, especially when the poor child

ELSIE DINSMORE 257

is not well? I must say you are the most
selfish, disobliging child I ever saw."

"I offered to tell her a Bible story, or any-
thing suitable for the Sabbath day," replied
Elsie, meekly, "but I cannot tell the fairy tale,
because it would be wrong."

" Nonsense! there 's no harm at all in telling
fairy tales to-day, any more than any other
day; that is just an excuse, Elsie," said Mrs.
Diusmore, angrily.

"I don't want her old Bible stories. I won't
have them. I want that pretty fairy tale,"
sobbed Enna, passionately; "make her tell it,
mamma."

"Come, come, what is all this fuss about?"
asked the elder Mr. Dinsmore, coming in from
an adjoining room.

"Nothing, " said his wife, "except that Enna
is not well enough to go out, and wants a fairy
story to pass away the time, which Elsie alone
is acquainted with, but is too lazy, or too self-
willed to relate."

He turned angrily to his little grand-
daughter.

"Ah! indeed, is that it? Well, there is an
old saying, 'A bird that can sing, and won't
sing, must be made to sing."

Elsie was opening her lips to speak, but Mrs.
Dinsmore bade her be silent, and then went

258 ELSIE DINSMORE

on. "She pretends it is all on account of con-
scientious scruples. 'It isn't fit for the Sab-
bath/ she says. Now / say it is a great piece
of impertinence for a child of her years to set
up her opinion against yours and mine; and
I know very well it is nothing but an excuse,
because she doesn't choose to be obliging.' '

"Of course it is; nothing in the world but
an excuse,' ' responded Mr. Dinsmore, hotly.

Elsie's face flushed, and she answered a lit-
tle indignantly, "No, grandpa, indeed it is
not merely an excuse, but "

"Do you dare to contradict me, you imper-
tinent little hussy?" cried the old gentleman,
interrupting her in the middle of her sentence ;
and catching her by the arm, he shook her
violently ; then, picking her up and setting her
down hard upon a chair, he said, "Now, miss,
sit you there until your father comes home,
then we will see what he thinks of such im-
pertinence; and if he doesn't give you the
complete whipping you deserve, I miss my
guess."

"Please, grandpa, I "

"Hold your tongue! don't dare to speak an-
other word until your father comes home,"
said he threateningly. "If you don't choose
to say what you're wanted to, you shall not
talk at all."

ELSIE DINSMORE 259

Then, going to the door, he called a servant
and bade him tell "Mr. Horace," as soon as
he returned, that he wished to see him.

For the next half -hour — and a very long one
it seemed to her — Elsie sat there wishing for,
and yet dreading, her father's coming. Would
he inflict upon her the punishment which her
grandfather evidently wished her to receive,
without pausing to inquire into the merits of
the case? or would he listen patiently to her
story ? And even if he did, might he not still
think her deserving of punishment? She
could not answer these questions to her own
satisfaction. A few months ago she would
have been certain of a very severe chastise-
ment, and even now she trembled with fear;
for, though she knew beyond a doubt that he
loved her dearly, she knew also that he was
a strict and severe disciplinarian, and never
excused her faults.

At last her ear caught the sound of his step
in the hall, and her heart beat fast and faster
as it drew nearer, until he entered, and, ad-
dressing his father, asked, "Did you wish to
see me, sir?"

"Yes, Horace, I want you to attend to this
girl," replied the old gentleman, with a mo-
tion of the head toward Elsie. "She has been
Very impertinent to me."

260 ELSIE DINSMORE

"What! Elsie impertinent; is it possible?
I certainly expected better things of her."

His tone expressed great surprise, and,
turning to his little daughter, he regarded her
with a grave, sad look that brought the tears
to her eyes ; dearly as she loved him, it seemed
almost harder to bear than the old expression
of stern severity.

"It is hard to believe," he said, "that my
little Elsie would be guilty of such conduct;
but if she has been, of course she must be pun-
ished, for I cannot allow anything of the kind.
Go, Elsie, to my dressing-room and remain
there until I come to you."

"Papa — " she began, bursting into tears.

"Hush!" he said, with something of the old
sternness; "not a word; but obey me in-
stantly."

Then, as Elsie went sobbing from the room,
he seated himself and, turning to his father,
said, "Now, sir, if you please, I should like to
hear the whole story; precisely what Elsie
has done and said, and what was the provoca-
tion; for that must also be taken into the ac-
count, in order that I may be able to do her
justice."

"If you do her justice, you will whip her
well," remarked his father, in a tone of
asperity.

ELSIE DINSMORE 261

Horace colored violently, for nothing
aroused his ire sooner than any interference
between him and his child; but controlling
himself, he replied, quite calmly, "If I find
her deserving of punishment I will not spare
her; but I should be sorry indeed to punish
her unjustly. Will you be so good as to tell
me what she has done?"

Mr. Dinsmore referred him to his wife for
the commencement of the trouble, and she
made out as bad a case against Elsie as pos-
sible ; but even then there seemed to her father
to be very little to condemn; and when Mrs.
Dinsmore was obliged to acknowledge that it
was Elsie's refusal to humor Enna in her de-
sire for a particular story which Elsie thought
it not best to relate on the Sabbath, he bit his
lip with vexation, and told her in a haughty
tone, that though he did not approve of Elsie's
strict notions regarding such matters, yet he
wished her to understand that Ms daughter
was not to be made a slave of Enna's whims.
If she chose to tell her a story, or to do any-
thing else for her amusement, he had no ob-
jection, but she was never to be forced to do
it against her inclination, and Enna must
understand that it was done as a favor, and
not at all as her right.

"You are right enough there, Horace,' * re-

262 ELSIE DINSMORE

marked his father, "but that does not excuse
Elsie for her impertinence to me. In the first
place, I must say I agree with my wife in
thinking it quite a piece of impertinence for a
child of her years to set up her opinion against
mine ; and, besides, she contradicted me flatly."

He then went on to repeat what he had said,
and Elsie *s denial of the charge, using her
exact words, but quite a different tone, and
suppressing the fact that he had interrupted
{ier before she had finished her sentence.

Elsie's tone, though slightly indignant, had
still been respectful, but, from her grand-
father's rehearsal of the scene, her father re-
ceived the impression that she had been ex-
ceedingly saucy, and he left the room with the
intention of giving her almost as severe a
punishment as her grandfather would have
prescribed.

On the way to his room, however, his anger
had a little time to cool, and it occurred to him
that it would be no more than just to hear
her side of the story ere he condemned her.

Elsie was seated on a couch at the far side
of the room, and as he entered she turned on
him a tearful, pleading look, that went straight
to his heart.

His face was grave and sad, but there was

ELSIE DINSMORE 263

very little sternness in it, as he sat down and
took her in his arms.

For a moment he held her without speaking,
while she lifted her eyes timidly to his face.
Then he said, as he gently stroked the hair
back from her forehead, "I am very sorry,
very sorry indeed, to hear so bad an account of
my little daughter. I am afraid I shall have
to punish her, and I don't like to do it."

She answered not a word, but burst into
tears, and hiding her face on his breast, sobbed
aloud.

"I will not condemn you unheard, Elsie,"
he said, after a moment's pause; "tell me how
you came to be so impertinent to your grand-
father."

"I did not mean to be saucy, papa, indeed
I did not," she sobbed.

"Stop crying then, daughter," he said,
kindly, "and tell me all about it. I know there
was some trouble between you and Enna, and
I want you to tell me all that occurred, and
every word spoken by either of you, as well
as all that passed between Mrs. Dinsmore, your
grandfather, and yourself. I am very glad
that I can trust my little girl to speak the
truth. I am quite sure she would not tell a
falsehood even to save herself from punish-
ment," he added, tenderly.

264 ELSIE DINSMORE

" Thank you, dear papa, for saying that,"
said Elsie, raising her head and almost smiling
through her tears. "I will try to tell it just
as it happened."

She then told her story, simply and truth-
fully, repeating, as he bade her, every word
that had passed between Enna and herself, and
between her and her grandparents. Her words
to her grandfather sounded very different, re-
peated in her quiet, respectful tones ; and when
she added that if he would have allowed her,
she was going on to explain that it was not
any unwillingness to oblige Enna, but the fear
of doing wrong, that led her to refuse her re-
quest, her father thought after all she deserved
very little blame.

"Do you think I was very saucy, papa?"
she asked, anxiously, when she had finished
her story.

"So much depends upon the tone, Elsie,"
he said, "that I can hardly tell; if you used
the same tone in speaking to your grandpa
that you did in repeating your words to me
just now, I don't think it was very imperti-
nent; though the words themselves were not
as respectful as they ought to have been. You
must always treat my father quite as respect-
fully as you do me ; and I think with him, too,
that there is something quite impertinent in

ELSIE DINSMORE 265

a little girl like you setting up her opinion
against that of her elders. You must never
try it with me, my daughter.' '

Elsie hung down her head in silence for a
moment, then asked in a tremulous tone, "Are
you going to punish me, papa?"

"Yes," he said, "but first I am going to
take you downstairs and make you beg your
grandfather's pardon. I see you don't want
to do it," he added, looking keenly into her
face, "but you must, and I hope I shall not be
obliged to enforce obedience to my com-
mands."

"I will do whatever you bid me, papa," she
sobbed, "but I did not mean to be saucy.
Please, papa, tell me what to say."

"You must say, Grandpa, I did not intend
to be impertinent to you, and I am very sorry
for whatever may have seemed saucy in my
words or tones ; will you please to forgive me,
and I will try always to be perfectly respect-
ful in future. You can say all that with truth,
I think?" '

"Yes, papa, I am sorry, and I do intend to
be respectful to grandpa always," she an-
swered, brushing away her tears, and putting
her hand in his.

He then led her into her grandfather's pres-

266 ELSIE DINSMORE

ence, saying: " Elsie has come to beg your
pardon, sir."

"That is as it should be," replied the old
gentleman, glancing triumphantly at his wife ;
"I told her you would not uphold her in any
such impertinence."

"No," said his son, with some displeasure
in his tone; "I will neither uphold her in
wrongdoing, nor suffer her to be imposed upon.
Speak, my daughter, and say what I bade
you."

Elsie sobbed out the required words.

"Yes, I must forgive you, of course," re-
plied her grandfather, coldly, "but I hope your
father is not going to let you off without
proper punishment."

"I will attend to that; I certainly intend to
punish her as she deserves/' said his son, lay-
ing a marked emphasis upon the concluding
words of his sentence.

Elsie wholly misunderstood him, and so
trembled with fear as he led her from the
room, that she could scarcely walk; seeing
which, he took her in his arms and carried
her up-stairs, she sobbing on his shoulder.

He did not speak until he had locked the
door, carried her across the room, and seated
himself upon the couch again, with her upon
his knee.

ELSIE DINSMORE 267

Then he said, in a soothing tone, as he wiped
away her tears and kissed her kindly, "You
need not tremble so, my daughter; I am not
going to be severe with you. ' '

She looked up in glad surprise.

"I said I would punish you as you deserve/'
he said, with a smile, "and I intend to keep
you shut up here with me until bed-time. I
shall not allow you to go down-stairs to tea,
and, besides, I am going to give you a long
lesson to learn, which I shall require you to
recite to me quite perfectly before you can go
to bed."

Elsie grew frightened again at the mention
of the lesson, for she feared it might be some-
thing which she could not conscientiously study
on the Sabbath; but all her fear and trouble
vanished as she saw her father take up a Bible
that lay on the table, and turn over the leaves
as though selecting a passage.

Presently he put it into her hands, and
pointing to the thirteenth and fourteenth chap-
ters of John's Gospel, bade her carry the book
to a low seat by the window, and sit there until
she had learned them perfectly.

"O papa! what a nice lesson!" she ex-
claimed, looking up delightedly into his face ;
"but it won't be any punishment, because I
love these chapters dearly, and have read them

268 ELSIE DINSMORE

so often that I almost know every word
already/*

"Hush, hush!" he said, pretending to be
very stern; "don't tell me that my punish-
ments are no punishments. I don't allow you
to talk so ; just take the book, and learn what
I bid you ; and if you know those two already,
you may learn the next."

Elsie laughed, kissed his hand, and tripped
away to her window, while he threw himself
down on the couch and took up a newspaper,
more as a screen to his face, however, than
for the purpose of reading; for he lay there
closely watching his little daughter, as she sat
in the rich glow of the sunset, with her sweet,
grave little face bending over the holy book.

"The darling!" he murmured to himself;
"she is lovely as an angel, and she is mine,
mine only, mine own precious one; and loves
me with her whole soul. Ah ! how can I ever
find it in my heart to be stern to her? Ah!
if / were but half as good and pure as she is,
I should be a better man than I am." And
he heaved a deep sigh.

Half an hour had passed, and still Elsie
bent over her book. The tea-bell rang, and
Mr. Dinsmore started up, and crossing the
room, bent down and stroked her hair.

"Do you know it, darling?" he asked.

ELSIE DINSMORE 269

"Almost, papa," and she looked up into his
face with a bright, sweet smile, full of af-
fection.

With a sudden impulse, he caught her in
his arms, and kissing her again and again, said
with emotion, "Elsie, my darling, I love you
too well; I could never bear to lose you."

"You must love Jesus better, my own pre-
cious papa," she replied, clasping her little
arms around his neck, and returning his
caresses.

He held her a moment, and then putting her
down, said, "I shall send you up some supper,
and I want you to eat it; don't behave as you
did about the bread and water once, a good
while ago."

"Will it be bread and water this time,
papa?" she asked with a smile.

"You will see," he said, laughingly, and
quitted the room.

Elsie turned to her book again, but in a few
moments was interrupted by the entrance of
a servant carrying on a silver waiter a plate
of hot, buttered muffins, a cup of jelly, another
of hot coffee, and a piece of broiled chicken.
Elsie was all astonishment.

"Why, Pomp," she asked, "did papa send
it?"

"Yes, Miss Elsie, 'deed he did," replied the

270 ELSIE DINSMORE

servant, with a grin of satisfaction, as he set
down his burden. "I reckon you been very
nice gal dis day; or else Marster Horace t'ink
you little bit sick."

"Papa is very good; and I am much obliged
to you, too, Pomp," said the little girl, laying
aside her book, and seating herself before the
waiter.

" Jes' ring de bell, Miss Elsie, ef you want
more, and dis chile fotch 'em up; Marster
Horace say so hisself." And the grinning
negro bowed himself out, chuckling with de-
light, for Elsie had always been a great fav-
orite with him.

"Dear papa," Elsie said, when he came in
again and smilingly asked if she had eaten her
prison fare, "what a good supper you sent
me ! But I thought you didn't allow me such
things!"

"Don't you know," said he, playfully, lay-
ing his hand upon her head, "that I am abso-
lute monarch of this small kingdom, and you
are not to question my doings or decrees?"

Then, in a more serious tone, "No, daugh-
ter, I do not allow it as a regular thing, because
I do not think it for your good ; but for once,
I thought it would not hurt you. I know you
are not one to presume upon favors, and I
wanted to indulge you a little, because I fear

ELSIE DINSMORE 271

my little girl has been made to suffer perhaps
more than she quite deserved this afternoon."

His voice had a very tender tone as he
uttered the concluding words, and stooping,
he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Don't think, though," he added, the next
moment, "that I am excusing you for imper-
tinence, not at all; but it was what you have
had to suffer from Enna's insolence. I shall
put a stop to that, for I will not have it."

"I don't mind it much,, papa," said Elsie,
gently; "I am quite used to it, for Enna has
always treated me so."

"And why did I never hear of it Before?"
he asked, half angrily. "It is abominable!
not to be endured!" he exclaimed, "and I shall
see that Miss Enna is made to understand that
my daughter is fully her equal in every re-
spect, and always to be treated as such,"

He paused ; but Elsie, half frightened at his
vehemence, made no reply; and he went on:

"I have no doubt your grandfather and his
wife would have been better pleased had I
forced you to yield to Enna's whim; but I had
no idea of such a thing; you shall use your
own pleasure whenever she is concerned; but
if I had bidden you to tell her that story it
would have been a very different matter ; you
need never set up your will, or your opinion of

272 ELSIE DINSMORE

right and wrong, against mine, Elsie, for I
shall not allow it. I don't altogether like some
of those strict notions you have got into your
head, and I give you fair warning, that should
they ever come into collision with my wishes
and commands, they will have to be given up.
But don't look so alarmed, daughter; I hope
it may never happen ; and we will say no more
about it to-night, " he added, kindly, for she
had grown very pale and trembled visibly.

"O papa, dear ?apa! don't ever bid me do
anything wrong; it would break my heart,"
she said, laying her head on his shoulder as
he sat down and drew her to his side.

"I never intend to bid you do wrong, but,
on the contrary, wish you always to do right.
But then, daughter, / must be the judge of
what is wrong or right for you ; you must re-
member that you are only a very little girl,
and not yet capable of judging for yourself,
and all you have to do is to obey your father
without murmuring or hesitation, and then
there will be no trouble."

His tone, though mild and not unkind, was
very firm and decided, and Elsie's heart sank;
she seemed to feel in the shadow of some great
trouble laid up in store for her in the future.
But she strove, and ere long with success, to
banish the foreboding of evil which oppressed

ELSIE DINSMORE 273

her, and give herself up to the enjoyment of
present blessings. Her father loved her dearly
— she knew that — and he was not now requir-
ing her to do aught against her conscience,
and perhaps he never might; he had said so
himself, and God could incline his heart to
respect her scruples ; or if, in His infinite wis-
dom, He saw that the dreadful trial was
needed, He would give her strength to bear it ;
for had He not promised, "As thy day, so shall
thy strength be?"

Her father's arm was around her, and she
had been standing silentry, with her face hid-
den on his shoulder, while these thoughts were
passing through her mind, and the little heart
going up in prayer to God for him and for
herself.

"What is my darling girl thinking of?" he
asked, presently.

"A good many things, papa," she said, rais-
ing her face, now quite peaceful and happy
again. "I was thinking of what you had just
been saying to me, and that I am so glad I
know that you love me dearly ; and I was ask-
ing God to help us both to do His will, and
that I might always be able to do what you
bid me, without disobeying Him," she added,
simply; and then asked, "May I say my lesson
now, papa? I think I know it quite perfectly."

274 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Yes," lie said, in an absent way; " bring
me the book."

Elsie brought it, and putting it into his
hands, drew up a stool and sat down at his
feet, resting her arm on his knee, and looking
up into his face ; then, in her sweet, low voice,
she repeated slowly and feelingly, with true
and beautiful emphasis, the chapters he had
given her to learn ; that most touching descrip-
tion of the Last Supper, and our Saviour's
farewell address to His sorrowing disciples.

"Ah! papa, is it not beautiful?" she ex-
claimed, laying her head upon his knee, while
the tears trembled in her eyes. "Is not that
a sweet verse, 'Having loved His own which
were in the world, He loved them unto the
end?' It seems so strange that He could be
so thoughtful for them, so kind and loving,
when all the time He knew what a dreadful
death He was just going to die ; and knew, be-
sides, that they were all going to run away
and leave Him alone with His cruel enemies.
Oh! it is so sweet to know that Jesus is so
loving, and that He loves me, and will always
love me, even to the end, forever/'

"How do you know that, Elsie?" he asked.

"I know that He loves me, papa, because
I love Him, and He has said, 'I love them
that love me'; and I know that He will love

ELSIE DINSMORE 275

me always, because He has said, 'I have loved
thee with an everlasting love,' and in another
place, 'I will never leave thee, nor forsake
thee."'

"But do you think you are good enough,
daughter, for Jesus to love you?"

"Ah! papa, I know I am not at all good. I
have a very wicked heart, and often my
thoughts and feelings are all wrong, and Jesus
knows all about it, but it does not keep Him
from loving me, for you know it was sinners
He died to save. Ah ! papa, how good and kind
He was! Who could help loving Him? I
used to feel so lonely and sad sometimes, papa,
that I think my heart would have broken quite
and I should have died, if I had not had Jesus
to love me."

"When were you so sad and lonely, dar-
ling?" he asked, in a moved tone, as he laid
his hand gently on her head, and stroked her
hair caressingly.

"Sometimes when you were away, papa, and
I had never seen you ; but then I used to think
of you, and my heart would long and ache so
to see you, and hear you call me daughter, and
to lay my head against your breast and feel
your arms folding me close to your heart, as
you do so often now."

She paused a moment, and struggled hard

276 ELSIE DINSMORE

to keep down the rising sobs, as she added,
"But when you came, papa, and I saw you did
not love me, oh! papa, that was the worst. I
thought I could never, never bear it I thought
my heart would break, and I wanted to die
and go to Jesus, and to mamma."

The little frame shook with sobs.

"My poor darling! my poor little pet!" he
said, taking her in his arms again, and caress-
ing her with the greatest tenderness; "it was
very hard, very cruel. I don't know how I
could steel my heart so against my own little
child; but I had been very much prejudiced,
and led to suppose that you looked upon me
with fear and dislike, as a hated tyrant."

Elsie lifted her eyes to his face with a look
of extreme surprise.

"O papa!" she exclaimed, "how could you
think that? I have always loved you, ever
since I can remember."

When Elsie went to her room that evening
she thought very seriously of all that had
occurred during the afternoon, and all that her
papa had said to her; and to her usual peti-
tions was added a very fervent one that he
might never bid her break any command of
God ; or, if he did, that she might have strength
given her according to her day.

A shadow had fallen on her pathway, faint

ELSIE DINSMORE 277

but perceptible ; a light, fleecy cloud obscured
the brightness of her sun; yet it was not for
some weeks that even the most distant mutter-
ings of the coming storm could be heard.

CHAPTER X.

"If thou turn away thy foot froty the Sabbathj
from doing thy pleasure on my holy day, and cai'i
the Sabbath a Delight, the Holy of the Lord, Hon-
orable, and shalt honor him, not doing thine own
ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking
thine own words." — Isaiah Iviii. 13.

"Whether it be right in the sight of God to heark
en unto you, more than unto God, Judge ye." — Acti
iv. 19.

Quite a number of guests ha$ dined at Bose-
lands. They were nearly all gentlemen, and
were now collected in the drawing-room,
laughing, jesting, talking politics, and con-
versing with each other and the ladies upon
various worldly topics, apparently quite for-
getful that it was the Lord's day, which He
has commanded to be kept holy in thought and
word, as well as deed.

"May I ask what you are in search of, Mr.
Eversham?" inquired Adelaide, as she noticed
one of the guests glance around the room with
a rather disappointed air.

"Yes, Miss Adelaide ; I was looking for little
Miss Elsie. Travilla has given me so very

279

280 ELSIE DINSMORE

glowing an account of her precocious musical
talent that I have conceived a great desire to
hear her play and sing."

"Do you hear that, Horace?" asked Ade-
laide, turning to her brother.

"Yes, and I shall be most happy to gratify
you, Eversham," replied the young father,
with a proud smile.

He crossed the room to summon a servant,
but as he placed his hand upon the bell-rope,
Mrs. Dinsmore arrested his movement.

"Stay, Horace," she said; "you had bet-
ter not send for her."

"May I be permitted to ask why, madam?"
he inquired, in a tone of mingled surprise and
annoyance.

"Because she will not sing," answered the
lady, coolly.

"Pardon me, madam, but I think she will,
if / bid her to do it," he said, with flashing
eyes.

"No, she will not," persisted Mrs. Dins-
more, in the same cold, quiet tone; "she will
tell you she is wiser than her father, and that it
would be a sin to obey him in this. Believe
me, she will most assuredly defy your author-
ity ; so you had better take my advice and let
her alone — thus sparing yourself the mortifi-

ELSIE DINSMORE 281

cation of exhibiting before your guests your
inability to govern your child."

Mr. Dinsmore bit his lip with vexation.

"Thank you," he said, haughtily, "but I
prefer convincing you that that inability lies
wholly in your own imagination; and I am
quite at a loss to understand upon what you
found your opinion, as Elsie has never yet
made the very slightest resistance to my au-
thority.''

He had given the bell-rope a vigorous pull
while speaking, and a servant now appearing
in answer to the summons, he sent him with a
message to Elsie, requiring her presence in
the drawing-room.

Then turning away from his step-mother,
who looked after him with a gleam of triumph
in her eye, he joined the group of gentlemen
already gathered about the piano, where
Adelaide had just taken her seat and begun a
brilliant overture.

Yet, outwardly calm and self-satisfied as his
demeanor may have been, Horace Dinsmore
was even now regretting the step he had just
taken; for remembering Elsie's conscientious
scruples regarding the observance of the Sab-
bath— which he had for the moment forgot-
ten— he foresaw that there would be a strug-
gle, probably a severe one ; and though, having

282 ELSIE DINSMORE

always found her docile and yielding, he felt
no doubt of the final result, he would willingly
have avoided the contest, could he have done
so without a sacrifice of pride ; but, as he said
to himself, with a slight sigh, he had now gone
too far to retreat; and then he had all along
felt that this struggle must come some time,
and perhaps it was as well now as at any other.

Elsie was alone in her room, spending the
Sabbath afternoon in her usual manner, when
the servant came to say that her papa wished
to see her in the drawing-room. The little girl
was a good deal alarmed at the summons, for
the thought instantly flashed upon her, "He
is going to bid me play and sing, or do some-
thing else which it is not right to do on the
Sabbath day."

But remembering that he never had done
so, she hoped he might not now; yet ere she
obeyed the call she knelt down for a moment,
and prayed earnestly for strength to do right,
however difficult it might be.

"Come here, daughter," her father said, as
she entered the room. He spoke in his usual
pleasant, affectionate tone, yet Elsie started,
trembled, and turned pale ; for catching sight
of the group at the piano, and her Aunt
Adelaide just vacating the music-stool, she at
once perceived what was in store for her.

ELSIE DINSMORE 283

"Here, Elsie," said her father, selecting a
song which she had learned during their ab-
sence, and sang remarkably well, "I wish you
to sing this for my friends; they are anxious
to hear it."

"Will not to-morrow do, papa?" she asked
in a low tremulous tone.

Mrs. Dinsniore, who had drawn near to
listen, now looked at Horace with a meaning
smile, which he affected not to see.

"Certainly not, Elsie," he said, "we want
it now. You know it quite well enough with-
out any more practice."

"I did not want to wait for that reason,
papa," she replied, in the same low, trembling
tones, "but you know, this is the holy Sabbath
day."

"Well, my daughter, and what of that? I
consider this song perfectly proper to be sung
to-day, and that ought to satisfy you that you
will not be doing wrong to sing it ; remember
what I said to you some weeks ago ; and now
sit down and sing it at once, without any more
ado."

' ' O papa ! I cannot sing it to-day ; please let
me wait until to-morrow."

"Elsie," he said, in his sternest tones, "sit
down to the piano instantly, and do as I bid
you, and let me hear no more of this nonsense."

284 ELSIE DINSMORE

She sat down, but raising her pleading eyes,
brimful of tears to his face, she repeated her
refusal. "Dear papa, I cannot sing it to-day,
I cannot break the Sabbath."

"Elsie, you must sing it," said he, placing
the music before her. "I have told you that
it will not be breaking the Sabbath, and that is
sufficient; you must let me judge for you in
these matters."

"Let her wait until to-morrow, Dinsmore;
to-morrow will suit us quite as well," urged
several of the gentlemen, while Adelaide good-
naturedly said, "Let me play it, Horace; I
have no such scruples, and presume I can do
it nearly as well as Elsie."

"No," he replied, "when I give my child a
command, it is to be obeyed; I have said she
should play it, and play it she must; she is not
to suppose that she may set up her opinion of
right and wrong against mine."

Elsie sat with her little hands folded in her
lap, the tears streaming from her downcast
eyes over her pale cheeks. She was trembling,
but though there was no stubbornness in her
countenance, the expression meek and humble,
she made no movement toward obeying her
father's order.

There was a moment of silent waiting ; then
he said in his severest tone, "Elsie, you shall

ELSIE DINSMORE 285

sit there till you obey me, though it should be
until to-morrow morning.' '

"Yes, papa/' she replied, in a scarcely
audible voice, and they all turned away and
left her.

"You see now that you had better have
taken my advice, Horace,'' remarked Mrs.
Dinsmore, in a triumphant tone ; "I knew very
well how it would end."

"Excuse me," said he, "but it has not ended ;
and ere it does, I think she will learn that she
has a stronger will than her own to deal with."

Elsie's position was a most uncomfortable
one ; her seat high and uneasy, and seeming to
grow more and more so as the weary moments
passed slowly away. No one came near her or
seemed to notice her, yet she could hear them
conversing in other parts of the room, and
knew that they were sometimes looking at her,
and, timid and bashful as she was, it seemed
hard to bear. Then, too, her little heart was
very sad as she thought of her father's dis-
pleasure, and feared that he would withdraw
from her the affection which had been for the
last few months the very sunshine of her life.
Besides all this, the excitement of her feelings
and the close and sultry air — for it was a very
warm day — had brought on a nervous head-
ache. She leaned forward and rested her head

286 ELSIE DINSMORE

against the instrument, feeling in momentary
danger of falling from her seat.

Thus two long hours had passed when Mr.
Travilla came to her side, and said in a com-
passionate tone, "I am really very sorry for
you, my little friend ; but I advise you to sub-
mit to your papa. I see you are getting very
weary sitting there, and I warn you not to
hope to conquer him. I have known him for
years, and a more determined person I never
saw. Had you not better sing the song? — it
will not take five minutes, and then your
trouble will be all over."

Elsie raised her head, and answered gently,
" Thank you for your symapthy, Mr. Travilla,
you are very kind; but I could not do it, be-
cause Jesus says, 'He that loveth father or
mother more than me, is not worthy of me';
and I cannot disobey Him, even to please my
own dear papa."

"But, Miss Elsie, why do you think it would
be disobeying Him 1 Is there any verse in the
Bible which says you must not sing songs on
Sunday?"

"Mr. Travilla, it says the Sabbath is to be
kept holy unto the Lord; that we are not to
think our own thoughts, nor speak our own
words, nor do our own actions ; but all the day
must be spent in studying God's word, or wor-

ELSIE DINSMORE 287

shipping and praising Him, and there is no
praise in that song — not one word about God
or heaven.' '

"That is very true, Elsie, but still it is such
a very little thing that I cannot think there
would be much harm in it, or that God would
be very angry with you for doing it."

"O Mr. Travilla!" she said, looking up at
him in great surprise, "surely you know that
there is no such thing as a little sin; and don't
you remember about the man who picked up
sticks on the Sabbath day?"

"No; what was it?"

"God commanded that he should be stoned
to death, and it was done. Would you not have
thought that a very little thing, Mr. Travilla t"

"Yes, I believe I should," said he, turning
away with a very grave face.

"Dinsmore," he said, going up to his friend,
"I am sure that child is conscientious ; had you
not better give up to her in this instance?"

"Never, Travilla," he answered, with stern
decision. "This is the first time she has re-
belled against my authority, and if I let her
conquer now, she will think she is always to
have her own way. No; cost what it may, I
must subdue her; she will have to learn that
my will is law."

"Right, Horace," said the elder Mr. Dins-

288 ELSIE DINSMORE

more, approvingly, "let her understand from
the first that you are to be master ; it is always
the best plan."

"Excuse me, Dinsmore," said Travilla, "but
I must say that I think a parent has no right
to coerce a child into doing violence to its con-
science.' f

"Nonsense!" replied his friend, a little
angrily. "Elsie is entirely too young to set
up her opinion against mine ; she must allow
me to judge for her in these matters for some
years to come."

Eversham, who had been casting uneasy
glances at Elsie all the afternoon, now draw-
ing his chair near to Adelaide, said to her in
an undertone, "Miss Adelaide, I am deeply
sorry for the mischief I have unwittingly
caused, and if you can tell me how to repair
it, you will lay me under lasting obligations."

Adelaide shook her head. * t There is no mov-
ing Horace when he has once set his foot
down," she said; "and as to Elsie, I doubt
whether any power on earth can make her do
what she considers wrong."

"Poor little thing!" said Eversham, sigh-
ing; "where in the world did she get such odd
notions?"

"Partly from a pious Scotch woman, who
had a good deal to do with her in her infancy,

ELSIE DINSMORE 289

and partly from studying the Bible, I believe.
She is always at it."

6 * Indeed!" and he relapsed into thoughtful
silence.

Another hour passed slowly away, and then
the tea-bell rang.

"Elsie," asked her father, coming to her
side, "are you ready to obey me nowf If so,
we will wait a moment to hear the song, and
then you can go to your tea with us."

"Dear papa, I cannot break the Sabbath,"
she replied, in a low, gentle tone, without lift-
ing her head.

"Very well, then, I cannot break my word;
you must sit there until you will submit ; and
until then you must fast. You are not only
making yourself miserable by your disobedi-
ence and obstinacy, Elsie, but are mortifying
and grieving me very much," he added, in a
subdued tone, that sent a sharp pang to the
loving little heart, and caused some very bit-
ter tears to fall, as he turned away and left
her.

The evening passed wearily away to the little
girl ; the drawing-room was but dimly lighted,
for the company had all deserted it to wander
about the grounds, or sit on the portico enjoy-
ing the moonlight and the pleasant evening
breeze, and the air indoors seemed insupport-

290 ELSIE DINSMORE

ably close and sultry. At times Elsie could
scarcely breathe, and she longed intensely to
get out into the open air; every moment her
seat grew more uncomfortable and the pain in
her head more severe; her thoughts began to
wander, she forgot where she was, everything
became confused, and at length she lost all con-
sciousness.

Several gentlemen, among whom were Mr.
Horace Dinsmore and Mr. Travilla, were con-
versing together on the portico, when they were
suddenly startled by a sound as of something
falling.

Travilla, who was nearest the door, rushed
into the drawing-room, followed by the others.

"A light! quick, quick, a light !" he cried,
raising Elsie's insensible form in his arms;
"the child has fainted."

One of the others, instantly snatching a lamp
from a distant table, brought it near, and the
increased light showed Elsie's little face
ghastly as that of a corpse, while a stream of
blood was flowing from a wound in the temple,
made by striking against some sharp corner
of the furniture as she fell.

She was a pitiable sight indeed, with her
fair face, her curls, and her white dress all
dabbled in blood.

" Dinsmore, you're a brute !" exclaimed Tra-

ELSIE DINSMORE 291

villa, indignantly, as he placed her gently on
a sofa.

Horace made no reply, but, with a face al-
most as pale as her own, bent over his little
daughter in speechless alarm, while one of the
guests, who happened to be a physician, hastily
dressed the wound, and then applied restora-
tives.

It was some time ere consciousness returned
and the father trembled with the agonizing
fear that the gentle spirit had taken its flight.

But at length the soft eyes unclosed, and,
gazing with a troubled look into his face, bent
so anxiously over her, she asked, "Dear papa,
are you angry with me!"

"No, darling/' he replied, in tones made
tremulous with emotion, "not at all."

"What was it?" she asked, in a bewildered
way; "what did I do? — what has happened?"

"Never mind, daughter," he said, "you have
been ill ; but you are better now, so don't think
any more about it."

"She had better be put to bed at once," said
the physician.

"There is blood on my dress," cried Elsie,
in a startled tone ; "where did it come from?"

"You fell and hurt your head," replied her
father, raising her gently in his arms; "but
don't talk any more now."

292 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Oh! I remember/ ' she moaned, an expres-
sion of keen distress coming over her face,
"papa "

"Hush! hush! not a word more! we will let
the past go," he said, kissing her lips. "I
shall carry you to your room now, and see you
put to bed."

He held her on his knee, her head resting
on his shoulder, while Chloe prepared her for
rest.

"Are you hungry, daughter?" he asked.

"No, papa; I only want to go to sleep."

"There, Aunt Chloe, that will do," he said,
as the old nurse tied on the child's night-cap;
and, raising her again in his arms, he carried
her to the bed and was about to place her on it.

"Oh, papa! my prayers first, you know,"
she cried, eagerly.

"Never mind them to-night," said he, "you
are not able."

"Please let me, dear papa," she pleaded; "I
cannot go to sleep without."

Yielding to her entreaties, he placed her on
her knees, and stood beside her, listening to
her murmured petitions, in which he more
than once heard his own name coupled with a
request that he might be made to love Jesus.

When she had finished, he again raised her
in his arms, kissed her tenderly several times,

ELSIE DINSMORE 293

and then laid her carefully on the bed, sajdng,
as he did so, "Why did you ask, Elsie, that I
might love Jesus I ' '

"Because, papa, I do so want you to love
Him; it would make you so happy; and, be-
sides, you cannot go to heaven without it — the
Bible says so."

"Does it? And what makes you think I
don't love Him?"

"Dear papa, please don't be angry," she
pleaded, tearfully, "but you know Jesus says,
'He that keepeth my commandments, he it is
that loveth me.' "

He stooped over her. "Good-night, daugh-
ter," he said.

"Dear, dear papa," she cried, throwing her
arm round his neck, and drawing down his
face close to hers, "I do love you so very, very
much!"

"Better than anybody else?" he asked.

"No, papa, I love Jesus best; you next."

He kissed her again, and with a half sigh
turned away and left the room. He was not
entirely pleased; not quite willing that she
should love even her Saviour better than
himself.

Elsie was very weary, and was soon asleep.
She waked the next morning feeling nearly as
well as usual, and after she had had her bath

294 ELSIE DINSMORE

and been dressed by Cbloe's careful bands, the
curls being arranged to conceal tbe plaster tbat
covered tbe wound on ber temple, tbere was
notbing in ber appearance, except a sligbt
paleness, to remind ber friends of tbe last
nigbt's accident.

She was sitting reading ber morning chap-
ter wben ber f atber came in, and taking a seat
by ber side, lifted ber to bis knee, saying, as
be caressed ber tenderly, "My little daughter
is looking pretty well tbis morning ; bow does
sbe feel?"

"Quite well, tbank you, papa," sbe replied,
looking up into bis face witb a sweet, loving
smile.

He raised tbe curls to look at tbe wounded
temple; tben, as be dropped tbem again, be
said, witb a sbudder, "Elsie, do you know tbat
you were very near being killed last night*?"

"No, papa, was I?" sbe asked, witb an awe-
struck countenance.

"Yes; tbe doctor says if tbat wound bad
been made balf an incb nearer your eye — I
sbould bave been childless."

His voice trembled almost too mucb for
utterance as be finisbed bis sentence, and be
strained ber to bis beart witb a deep sigb of
tbankfulness for ber escape.

Elsie was very quiet for some moments, and

ELSIE DINSMORE 295

the little face was almost sad in its deep
thoughtfulness.

''What are you thinking of, darling?" he
asked.

She raised her eyes to his face and he saw
that they were brimful of tears.

"O papa!" she said, dropping her head on
his breast while the bright drops fell like rain
down her cheeks, "would you have been so
very sorry?"

"Sorry, darling! do you not know that you
are more precious to me than all my wealth,
all my friends and relatives put together?
Yes, I would rather part with everything else
than lose this one little girl," he said, kissing
her again and again.

"Dear, dear papa! how glad I am that you
love me so much!" she replied; and then re-
lapsed into silence.

He watched her changing countenance for
some time, then asked, "What is it, darling?"

"I was just thinking," she said, "whether
I was ready to go to heaven, and I believe I
was ; for I know that I love Jesus ; and then I
was thinking how glad mamma would have
been to see me; don't you think she would,
papa?"

"I can't spare you to her yet," he replied,

296 ELSIE DINSMORE

with emotion, "and I think she loves me too
well to wish it."

As Miss Day had not yet returned, Elsie's
time was still pretty much at her own disposal,
excepting when her papa gave her something
to do ; so, after breakfast, finding that he was
engaged with someone in the library, she took
her Bible, and seeking out a shady retreat in
the garden, sat down to read.

The Bible was ever the book of books to
her, and this morning the solemn, tender feel-
ings naturally caused by the discovery of her
recent narrow escape from sudden death made
it even more than usually touohing and beau-
tiful in her eyes. She had been alone in the
arbor for some time, when, hearing a step at
her side, she looked up, showing a face all wet
with tears.

It was Mr. Travilla who stood beside her.

"In tears, little Elsie! Pray, what may the
book be that affects you so?" he asked, sitting
down by her side and taking it from her hand.
"The Bible, I declare!" he exclaimed in sur-
prise. "What can there be in it that you find
so affecting?"

"O Mr. Travilla!" said the little girl, "does
it not make your heart ache to read how the
Jews abused our dear, dear Saviour? And

ELSIE DINSMORE 297

then to think that it was all because of our
sins," she sobbed.

He looked half distressed, half puzzled; it
seemed a new idea to him.

"Really, my little Elsie," he said, "you are
quite original in your ideas. I suppose I
ought to feel unhappy about these things, but
indeed the truth is, I have never thought
much about them."

"Then you don't love Jesus," she answered,
mournfully. "Ah! Mr. Travilla, how sorry I
am!"

"Why, Elsie, what difference can it make
to you whether I love Him or not?"

"Because, Mr. Travilla, the Bible says, 'If
any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let
htm be anathema, maranatha,' accursed from
God. Oh! sir, think how dreadful! You can-
not be saved unless you love Jesus, and believe
on Him. 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved.' Tha^ is what God
says in His word."

She spoke with deep solemnity, the tears
trembling in her eyes. He was touched, but
for a while sat perfectly silent.

Then he said, with an effort to speak lightly,
"Ah! well, my little friend, I certainly intend
to repent and believe before I die, but there is
time enough yet."

298 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Mr. Travilla," she said, laying her hand
on his arm, and looking earnestly into his face,
"how do you know that there is time enough
yet? Don't put it off, I beg of you."

She paused a moment, then asked: "Do
you know, Mr. Travilla, how near I eame to
being killed last night?"

He nodded.

"Well, suppose I had been killed, and had
not loved Jesus; where would I be now?"

He put his arm round her, and giving her a
kiss, said: "I don't think you would have been
in any very bad place, Elsie ; a sweet, amiable
little girl, who has never harmed any one,
would surely not fare very badly in another
world."

She shook her head very gravely.

"Ah! Mr. Travilla, you forget the anath-
ema, maranatha ; if I had not loved Jesus, and
had my sins washed away in His blood, I could
not have been saved."

Just at this moment a servant came to tell
Elsie that her papa wanted her in the draw-
ing-room, and Mr. Travilla, taking her hand,
led her into the house.

They found the company again grouped
about the piano, listening to Adelaide's
music.

Elsie went directly to her father and stood

ELSIE DINSMORE 299

by his side, putting her hand in his with a
gesture of confiding affection.

He smiled down at her, and kept fast hold
of it until his sister had risen from the instru-
ment, when putting Elsie in her place, he said,
"Now, my daughter, let us have that song."

"Yes, papa," she replied, beginning the pre-
lude at once, "I will do my very best."

And so she did. The song was both well
played and well sung, and her father looked
proud and happy as the gentlemen expressed
their pleasure and asked for another and
another.

Thus the clouds which had so suddenly
obscured little Elsie's sky seemed to have van-
ished as speedily as they had arisen.

Her father again treated her with all his
wonted affection, and there even seemed to be
a depth of tenderness in his love which it had
not known before, for he could not forget how
nearly he had lost her.

CHAPTER XI.

''In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I
thank thee, 0 Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
that thou hast hid these things from the wise and
prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes ; even so,
Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight. — Luke
x.21.

Says the Apostle Paul, "I say the truth in
Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me
witness in the Holy Ghost, that I have great
heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart,
for I could wish that myself were accursed
from Christ, for my brethren, my kinsmen
according to the flesh. . . . Brethren, my
heart's desire and prayer to God for Israel is,
that they might be saved."

And such, dear reader, is, in greater or less
degree, the feeling of every renewed heart;
loving Jesus, it would fain have others love
Him, too; it desires the salvation of all; but
for that of its own dear ones it longs and
labors and prays; it is like Jacob wrestling
with the angel, when he said, "I will not let
thee go, except thou bless me."

And thus it was with Elsie. She knew now

301

302 ELSIE DINSMORE

that her father was not a Christian; that he
had no real love for Jesus, none of the true
fear of God before his eyes. She saw that if
he permitted her to read to him from God's
word, as he sometimes did, it was not that he
felt any pleasure in listening, but only to
please her; she had no reason to suppose he
ever prayed, and though he went regularly to
church, it was because he considered it proper
and respectable to do so, and not that he cared
to worship God, or to learn His will.

This conviction, which had gradually
dawned upon Elsie, until now it amounted to
certainty, caused her great grief; she shed
many tears over it in secret, and very many
and very earnest were the prayers she offered
up for her dear father's conversion.

She was sitting on his knee one evening in
the drawing-room, while he and several other
gentlemen were conversing on the subject of
religion. They were discussing the question
whether or no a change of heart were neces-
sary to salvation.

The general opinion seemed to be that it was
not, and Elsie listened with pain while her fa-
ther expressed his decided conviction that all
who led an honest, upright, moral life, and at-
tended to the outward observances of religion,
were quite safe.

ELSIE DINSMORE 303

"He could see no necessity for a change of
heart; he did not believe in the doctrine of
total depravity, not he ; no indeed, he thought
the world much better than many people would
have us believe."

Elsie fixed her eyes on his face with a very
mournful gaze while he was speaking, but he
was busy with his argument and did not notice
her.

But one of the guests was just expressing
his approval of Mr. Dinsmore's sentiment,
when catching sight of Elsie's face, he
stopped, remarking, "Your little girl looks as
if she had something to say on the subject;
what is it, my dear?"

Elsie blushed, hesitated, and looked at her
father.

"Yes, speak, my daughter, if you have any-
thing to say," he said, encouragingly.

Elsie lifted her eyes timidly to the gentle-
man's face as she replied, "I was just think-
ing, sir, of what our Saviour said to Nico-
demus: * Verily, verily I say unto thee, except
a man be born again, he cannot see the king-
dom of God.' i Marvel not that I said unto
thee, Ye must be born again.' "

She repeated these words of inspiration
with a deep, earnest solemnity that seemed to
impress every hearer.

304 ELSIE DINSMORE

For a moment there was a deep hush in the
room.

Then the gentleman asked, "Well, my little
lady, and what is meant by being born again V9

"O sir V9 she replied, "surely you know that
it means to have the image of God, lost in
Adam's fall, restored to us; it means what
David asked for when he prayed, * Create in
me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right
spirit withim me.' "

"Where did you learn all this?" he asked,
looking at her with mingled surprise and ad-
miration.

"In the Bible, sir," she modestly replied.

"You seem to have read it to some purpose,"
said he; "and now since you consider that
change so necessary, can you tell me how it is
to be brought about!"

"God's Holy Spirit, alone, ean change a sin-
ner's heart, sir."

"And how an I to secure His aid?" he
asked.

Elsie answered with a text: "God is more
willing t© give His Holy Spirit to them that
ask Him, than parents are to give good gifts
unto their children."

He paused a moment; then asked, "Have
you obtained this new heart, Miss Elsie?"

"I hope I have, sir," she replied, the sweet

ELSIE DINSMORE 305

little face all suffused with blushes, and the
soft, downcast eyes filling with tears.

"Why do you think so!" he asked, again.
"I think there is a text that says you must be
able always to give a reason for the hope that
is in you, or something to that effect, is there
not?"

"Yes, sir: 'Be ready always to give an an-
swer to every man that asketh you a reason
of the hope that is in you, with meekness and
fear.' " Then raising her eyes to his face,
with a touching mixture of deep humility and
holy boldness, she continued, "And this, sir,
is my answer: Jesus says, 'Him that eometh
unto me, I will in nowise cast him out' ; and I
believe Him. I did go to Him, and He did
not east me out, but forgave my sins, and
taught me to love Him and desire to serve
Him all my life."

This conversation between the gentleman
and the little girl had drawn the attention of
all present ; and now Mrs. Dinsmore, who had
more than once shown signs of impatience,
said, "Well, Elsie, I think you have now
talked quite enough for a child of your age."
Then, pulling out her watch, "It is high time
for little folks to be in bed."

Elsie, blushing deeply, would have retired
immediately, but her father held her fast, say-

306 ELSIE DINSMORE

ing, as lie gave Ms step-mother an angry
glance, "You need not go, Elsie, unless you
choose; I am quite capable of judging when
it is time to send you to bed."

"I would rather go, if you please, papa,"
whispered Elsie, who had a great dread of
Mrs. Binsmore's anger.

"Very well, then, you may do as you like,"
he replied, giving her a good-night kiss. And,
with a graceful good-night to the company,
the little girl left the room.

Her questioner followed her with an ad-
miring glance, then turning to her father,
exclaimed warmly, "She is a remarkably
intelligent child, Dinsmore! one that any fa-
ther might be proud of. I was astonished at
her answers."

"Yes," remarked Travilla, "a text has been
running in my head ever since you commenced
your conversation; something about these
things being hid from the wise and prudent,
and revealed unto babes. And," he added, "I
am sure if ever I saw one who possessed that
new nature of which she spoke, it is she her-
self. Has she any faults, Dinsmore?"

"Very few, I think; though she would tell
you a different story," replied her father, with
a gratified smile.

The next morning Elsie was sitting reading

ELSIE DINSMORE 307

her Bible, when she suddenly felt a hand laid
on her head, and her father's voice said,
" Good-morning, little daughter."

"Ah! papa, is that you?" she asked, raising
her head to give him a smile of joyful wel-
come. "I did not know you were there."

"Ah! I have been watching you for several
minutes," he said; "always poring over the
same book, Elsie; do you never tire of it?"

"No, indeed, papa; it is always new, and I
do love it so ; it is so very sweet. May I read
a little to you?" she added, eoaxingly.

"Yes; I love to listen to anything read by
my darling," he said, sitting down and taking
her on his knee.

She opened at the third chapter of John's
Gospel and read it through. At the sixteenth
verse, "For God so loved the world, that He
gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in Him should not perish, but have
everlasting life," she paused and asked, "Was
not that a wonderful gift, papa ? and wonder-
ful love that prompted it?"

"Yes," he said, absently, stroking her hair.

She finished the chapter, and closing the
book, laid her head on his breast, asking,
"Dear papa, don't you believe the Bible?"

"Certainly, daughter; I am not an infidel,"
he replied, in a careless tone.

306 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Well, then, papa," she continued, half
hesitatingly, "does not this chapter teach very
plainly that we must love Jesus, and have new
hearts, if we want to go to heaven?"

"Yes," he said, "I dare say it does."

Then taking the book from her, he laid it
aside and giving her a kiss, said, "I was much
pleased with your intelligent answers to Mr.
Lee last evening."

Elsie sighed, and her eyes filled with tears.
It was not what she wanted.

"What an odd child you are!" he said,
laughing. "You really look as though I had
been scolding, instead of praising you."

She dropped her head on his breast, and
burst into tears and sobs.

"Why, Elsie, my own darling, what ails
you?" he asked in great surprise.

"O papa!" she sobbed, "I want you to love
Jesus."

"Oh; is that all?" he said.

And setting her on her feet, he took her by
the hand and led her out into the garden,
where they met Mr. Travilla and another
gentleman, who immediately entered into con-
versation with Mr. Dinsmore, while Elsie
wandered about amongst the flowers and
shrubs, gathering a nosegay for her Aunt
Adelaide.

CHAPTER XII.

"She had waited for their coming,

She had kiss'd them o'er and o'er —
And they were so fondly treasured

For the words of love they bore,
Words that whispered in their silence,

She had listened till his tone
Seemed to linger in the echo ,

'Darling, thou art all mine own !' "

— Mks. J. C. Neal.

"Peay, what weighty matter is troubling your
young brain, birdie f" asked Adelaide, laugh-
ingly, laying her band on Elsie's shoulder.
"Judging from the exceeding gravity of your
countenance, one might imagine that the
affairs of the nation bad been committed to
your care."

"O auntie! can't you help me? won't you?"
answered the little girl, looking up coaxingly
into the bright, cheerful face bent over her.

"Help you in what ? reading with your book
upside down, eh?" asked Adelaide, pointing
with a quizzical look at the volume of fairy
tales in her little niece's lap.

"Oh!" cried Elsie, coloring and laughing
in her turn, "I was not reading, and did not

309

310 ELSIE DINSMORE

know that my book was wrong side up. But,
Aunt Adelaide, you know Christmas is coming
soon, and I want to give papa something, and
I am quite puzzled about it. I thought of
slippers, but he has a very handsome pair, and
besides there would hardly be time to work
them, as I have so many lessons ; a purse won't
do, either, because I have given him one
already, and I would like it to be something
worth more than either slippers or purse. But
you are so much wiser than I, can't you help
me think?"

"So this is what has kept you so quiet and
demure all day that I have scarcely once heard
you laugh or sing; quite an unusual state of
things of late," and Adelaide playfully
pinched the round, rosy cheek. "Ahem! let
me put on my thinking cap," assuming an air
of comic gravity. "Ah! yes, I have it! your
miniature, little one, of course; what could
please him better?"

"Oh! yes," cried Elsie, clapping her hands,
"that will do nicely; why didn't I think of
it? Thank you, auntie. But then," she
added, her countenance falling, "how can I
get it taken without his knowledge? You
know the surprise is half the fun."

"Never mind, my dear, I'll find a way to
manage that," replied Adelaide, confidently;

ELSIE DINSMORE 311

"so just run away with you now, and see how
much money you can scrape together to spend
on it."

"It won't take long to count it," Elsie said,
with a merry laugh. "But here is papa just
coming in at the door; I hope he won't suspect
what we have been talking about," and she
bounded away to meet him and claim the kiss
he never refused her now.

Once Adelaide would not have been sur-
prised at Elsie's quietness. Patient and sweet
tempered the little girl had always been, but
more especially after her father's return from
Europe — very quiet and timid, seeming to
shrink from observation, with a constant dread
of incurring reproof or punishment; but the
last few happy months, during which her
father had continued to lavish upon her every
proof of the tenderest affection, had wrought
a great change in her; her manner had lost
its timidity, she moved about the house with
a light and joyous step, and it was no unusual
thing to hear her merry, silvery laugh ring out,
or her sweet voice carolling like some wild
bird of the wood — the natural outgushings of
her joy and thankfulness; for the little heart
that had so long been famishing for love, that
had often grown so weary and sick in its hun-
gering and thirsting for it, was now fully

312 ELSIE DINSMORE

satisfied, and revelled in its new-found hap*
piness.

"I have got it all arranged nicely, Elsie, "
Adelaide said, coming into the room with a
very pleased face as the little girl was pre-
paring for bed that evening. "Your papa is
going away in a day or two to attend to some
business matters connected with your prop-
erty, and will be absent at least two weeks;
so, unless he should take it into his head to
carry you along, we can easily manage about
the picture."

Elsie looked up with a countenance of blank
dismay.

"Why, ' ? said Adelaide, laughing, ' i I thought
you'd be delighted with my news, and instead
of that, you look as if I had read you your
death-warrant. ' J

"O Aunt Adelaide! two whole weeks with-
out seeing papa! just think how long."

"Pooh! nonsense, child! it will be gone be-
fore you know it. But now tell me, how much
money have you?"

"I have saved my allowance for two months ;
that makes twenty dollars, you know, auntie,
and I have a little change besides; do you
think it will be enough I"

"Hardly, Pin afraid; but I can lend you
some, if necessary."

ELSIE DINSMORE 313

"Thank you, auntie, " Elsie answered, grate-
fully, "you are very kind; but I couldn't take
it, because papa lias told me expressly that I
must never borrow money, nor run into debt
in any way."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Adelaide, a little im-
patiently; "Horace certainly is the most ab-
surdly strict person I ever met with. But
never mind, I think we can manage it some-
how," she added, in a livelier tone, as she
stooped to kiss her little niece good-night.

Elsie's gentle rap was heard very early at
her papa's door the next morning.

He opened it immediately, and springing
into his arms, she asked, almost tearfully,
"Are you going away, papa?"

"Yes, darling," he said\ caressing her
fondly; "I must leave home for a few weeks;
and though I at first thought of taking you
with me, upon further consideration I have
decided that it will be better to leave you here ;
yet, if you desire it very much, my pet9 1 will
take you along. Shall II"

"You know I would always rather be with
you than anywhere else, papa," she answered,
laying her head on his shoulder; "but you
know best, and I am quite willing to do what-
ever you say."

"That is right, daughter; my little Elsie is

314 ELSIE DINSMORE

a good, obedient child," he said, pressing her
closer to him.

"When are you going, papa*?" she asked,
her voice trembling a little.

" Tomorrow, directly after dinner, daugh-
ter."

"So soon," she sighed.

"The sooner I leave you the sooner I shall
return, you know, darling," he said, patting
her cheek, and smiling kindly on her.

"Yes, papa; but two weeks seems such a
long, long time."

He smiled. "At your age I suppose it does,
but when you are as old as I am, you will think
it very short. But, to make it pass more
quickly, you may write me a little letter every
day, and I will send you one just as often."

"Oh! thank you, papa; that will be so pleas-
ant," she answered, with a brightening coun-
tenance. "I do so love to get letters, and I
would rather have one from you than from
anybody else."

"Ah! then I think you ought to be willing
to spare me for two weeks. I have been think-
ing my little girl might perhaps be glad of a
little extra pocket-money for buying Christ-
mas gifts," he said, taking out his purse.
"Would you?"

"Yes, papa; oh! very much, indeed."

ELSIE DINSMORE 315

He laughed at her eager tone, and putting
a fifty-dollar note into her hand, asked, "Will
that be enough?"

Elsie's eyes opened wide with astonishment.

"I never before had half so much as this,,,
she exclaimed. "May I spend it all, papa?"

"Provided you don't throw it away," he
answered, gravely; "but don't forget that I
require a strict account of all your expendi-
ture."

"Must I tell you every thing I buy?" she
asked, her countenance falling considerably.

"Yes, my child, you must; not until after
Christmas, however, if you would rather not."

"I will not mind it so much then," she an-
swered, looking quite relieved; "but indeed,
papa, it is a great deal of trouble."

"Ah! my little girl must not be lazy,"
shaking his head gravely.

This was Elsie's first parting from her
father since they had learned to know and
love each other; and when the time came to
say good-by, she clung to him, and seemed so
loath to let him go, that he quite repented of
his determination to leave her at home.

"O papa, papa! I cannot bear to have you
go, and leave me behind," she sobbed. "I feel
as if you were never coming back."

"Why, my own darling," he said, kissing

316 ELSIE DINSMORE

her again and again, "why do you talk so? I
shall certainly be at home again in a fortnight ;
but if I had thought you would feel so badly,
I would have made arrangements to take you
with me. It is too late now, however, and you
must let me go, dearest. Be a good girl while
I am gone, and when I return I will bring you
some handsome presents/ ?

So saying, he embraced her once more, then
putting her gently from him, sprang into the
carriage and was driven rapidly away.

Elsie stood watching until it was out of
sight, and then ran away to her own room to
put her arms round her nurse 's neck and hide
her tears on her bosom.

"Dere, dere, darlin'! dat will do now. Massa
Horace he be back 'fore long, and ole Chloe
don't like for to see her chile 'stressin' herself
so," and the large dusky hand was passed
lovingly over the bright curls, and tenderly
wiped away the falling tears.

"But, O mammy! I'm afraid he will never
come back. I'm afraid the steamboat boiler
will burst, or the cars will run off the track,
or "

"Hush, hush, darlin'! dat's wicked; you
must jes' trust de Lord to take care of Massa
Horace; He's jes' as able to do it one place
as in tudder; an' ef you an' your ole mammy

ELSIE DINSMORE 317

keep prayin' for Massa, I'se sure he'll come
back safe, kase don't you remember what de
good book says, 'If any two of you agree — ' "

"Ok! yes, dear mammy, thank you for re-
membering it," exclaimed the little girl, lifting
her head and smiling through her tears. "I
won't cry any more now, but will just try to
keep thinking how glad I will be when papa
comes home again."

"A very sensible resolution, my dear," said
Adelaide, putting her head in at the door; "so
come, dry your eyes, and let mammy put on
your bonnet and cloak as fast as possible, for
I have begged a holiday for you, and am going
to carry you off to the city to do some shop-
ping, et cetera."

"Ah! I think I know what that et cetera
means, auntie, don't IV1 laughed Elsie, as she
hastened to obey.

"Dear me! how very wise some people are,"
said her aunt, smiling and nodding good-
naturedly. "But make haste, my dear, for
the carriage is at the door."

"When Elsie laid her head upon her pillow
that night she acknowledged to herself that
in spite of her father's absence — and she had,
at times, missed him sadly — the day had been
a very short and pleasant one to her, owing
to her Aunt Adelaide's thoughtful kindness

318 ELSIE DINSMORE

in taking her out into new scenes, and giving
agreeable occupation to her thoughts.

She rose at her usual early hour the next
morning, and though feeling lonely, comforted
herself with the hope of receiving the prom-
ised letter; and her "face was full of eager
expectation as her grandfather, in his usual
leisurely manner, opened the bag and distrib-
uted its contents.

"Two letters for Elsie !" he said, in a tone
of surprise, just as she was beginning to
despair of her turn coming at all. "Ah; one
is from Horace, I see; and the other from
Miss Allison, no doubt."

Elsie could hardly restrain her eagerness
while he held them in his hand, examining and
commenting upon the address, postmark, etc.

But at length he tossed them to her, remark-
ing, "There! if you are done your breakfast,
you had better run away and read them."

"Oh thank you, grandpa," she said, gladly
availing herself of his permission.

"Elsie is fortunate to-day," observed Lora,
looking after her. "I wonder which she will
read first."

"Her father's, of course," replied Adelaide.
"He is more to her than all the rest of the
world put together."

"A matter of small concern to the rest of

ELSIE DINSMORE 319

the world, I opine," remarked Mrs. Dinsmore,
dryly.

•"Perhaps so, mamma," said Adelaide,
quietly; "yet I think there are some who prize
Elsie's affection."

Yes, Adelaide was right. Miss Rose's letter
was neglected and almost forgotten, while
Elsie read and reread her papa's with the
greatest delight.

It gave an amusing account of the day's
journey; but what constituted its chief charm
for the little girl was that it was filled with
expressions of the tenderest affection for her.

Then came the pleasant task of answering,
which occupied almost all her spare time, for
letter writing was still, to her, a rather new
and difficult business, Miss Allison having
hitherto been her only correspondent. And
this was a pleasure which was renewed every
day, for her papa faithfully kept his promise,
each morning bringing her a letter, until at
length one came announcing the speedy return
of the writer.

Elsie was almost wild with delight.

"Aunt Adelaide," she cried, running to her
to communicate the glad tidings, "papa says
he will be here this very afternoon."

"Well, my dear, as we have already at-
tended to all the business that needed to be

320 ELSIE DINSMORE

kept secret from Mm, I am very glad to hear
it, especially for your sake," replied Adelaide,
looking up for a moment from the book she
was reading, and then returning to it again,
while her little niece danced out of the room,
with her papa's letter still in her hand, and
a face beaming with happiness.

She met Mrs. Dinsmore in the hall.

' 'Why are you skipping about in that mad
fashion, Elsie?" she asked, severely; "I be-
lieve you will never learn to move and act like
a lady."

' ' I will try, madam, indeed," Elsie answered,
subsiding into a slow and steady gait which
would not have disgraced a woman of any
age; "but I was so glad that papa is coming
home to-day, that I could not help skipping."

"Indeed!" and with a scornful toss of her
head, Mrs. Dinsmore sailed past her and
entered the drawing-room.

Elsie had once, on her first arrival at Rose-
lands, addressed Mrs. Dinsmore, in the inno-
cence of her heart, as "grandma," but that
lady's horrified look, and indignant repudia-
tion of the ancient title, had made a deep
impression on the little girl's memory, and
effectually prevented any repetition of the
offense.

As the hour drew near when her father

ELSIE DINSMORE 321

might reasonably be expected, Elsie took her
station at one of the drawing-room windows
overlooking the avenue, and the moment the
carriage appeared in sight, she ran out and
stood waiting for him on the steps of the
portico.

Mr. Dinsmore put out his head as they drove
up the avenue, and the first object that caught
his eye was the fairy-like form of his little
daughter, in her blue merino dress, and the
golden brown curls waving in the wind. He
sprang out and caught her in his arms the
instant the carriage stopped.

"My darling, darling child!" he cried, kiss-
ing her over and over again, and pressing her
fondly to his heart, "how glad I am to have
you in my arms again!"

"Papa, papa, my own dear, dear papa!"
she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his
neck, "I'm so happy, now that you have come
home safe and well."

"Are you, darling? but I must not keep you
out in this wind, for it is quite chilly."

He set her down, and leaving the servant to
attend to his baggage, led her into the hall.

"Will you come into the drawing-room,
papa?" she said; "there is a bright, warm
fire there,"

322 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Is there not one in my dressing-room Vv
he asked.

"Yes, papa, a very good one."

"Then we will go there. I dare say the rest
of the family are in no great hurry to see me,
and I want my little girl to myself for half
an hour," he said, leading the way up-stairs
as he spoke.

They found, as Elsie had reported, a very
bright fire in the dressing-room. A large easy
chair was drawn up near it, and a handsome
dressing-gown and slippers were placed ready
for use; all the work of Elsie's loving little
hands.

He saw it all at a glance, and with a pleased
smile, stooped and kissed her again, saying,
"My dear little daughter is very thoughtful
for her papa's comfort."

Then exchanging his warm out-door apparel
and heavy hoots for the dressing-gown and
slippers, he seated himself in the chair and
took her on his knee.

"Well, daughter," he said, passing his hand
caressingly over her curls, "papa has brought
you a present; will you have it now, or shall
it be kept for Christmas?"

"Keep it for Christmas, papa," she an-
swered, gayly. "Christmas is almost here*

ELSIE DINSMORE 323

and, besides, I don't want to look at anything
but you to-night.' *

"Very well, look at me as much as you like,"
was his laughing rejoinder. "And now tell
me, have you been a good girl in my absence ?"

"As good as I ever am, I believe, papa. I
tried very hard; but you can ask Miss Day.'

"No; I am entirely satisfied with your re-
port, for I know my little daughter is quite
truthful. "

Elsie colored with pleasure ; then, calling to
mind the time when he had for a moment sus-
pected her of falsehood, she heaved a deep
sigh, dropping her head upon his breast.

He seemed to understand her thoughts, for,
pressing his lips to her forehead, he said,
gently and kindly, "I think I shall never again
doubt my little daughter's truth."

She looked up with a grateful smile.

"Miss Day has gone away to stay until after
New Year's day, papa," she said, "and so our
holidays have begun."

' ' Ah ! I am very well satisfied, ' ' said he. "I
think you have earned a holiday, and I hope
you will enjoy it. But I don't know that I
shall let you play all the time," he added, with
a smile; "I have some notion of giving you a
lesson now and then, myself."

"Dear papa, how pleasant!" she exclaimed.

324 ELSIE DINSMORE

delightedly; "I do so love to say lessons to
you."

"Well, then, we will spend an hour together
every morning. But are you not to have some
company ?"

"Oh ! yes, papa, quite a house full," she said,
with a slight sigh. "The Percys, and the
Howards, and all the Carringtons, and some
others, too, I believe."

"Why do you sigh, daughter?" he asked;
"do you not expect to enjoy their company?"

"Yes, sir, I hope so," she answered, rather
dubiously; "but when there are so many, and
they stay so long, they are apt to disagree,
and that, you know, is not pleasant. I am
sure I shall enjoy the hour with you better
than anything else; it is so sweet to be quite
alone with my own darling papa," and the
little arm stole softly round his neck again,
and the rosy lips touched his cheek.

"Well, when are the little plagues coming?'*
he asked, returning her caress.

"Some of them to-morrow, papa; no, Mon-
day— to-morrow is Sabbath day."

"Shall I bring in de trunks now, Massa?"
asked Mr. Dinsmore's servant, putting his
head in at the door.

"Yes, John, certainly."

"Why, you brought back a new one, papa,

ELSIE DINSMORE 325

didn't you?" asked Elsie, as John carried in
one she was sure she had never seen before,
and, in obedience to a motion of her father's
hand, set it down quite near them.

"Yes, my dear, it is yours. There, John,
unlock it," tossing him the key. "And now,
daughter, get down and see what you can find
in it worth having."

Elsie needed no second bidding, but in an
instant was on her knees beside the trunk,
eager to examine its contents.

"Take the lid off the band-box first, and
see what is there," said her father.

"O papa, how very pretty!" she cried, as
she lifted out a beautiful little velvet hat
adorned with a couple of ostrich feathers.

"I am very glad it pleases you, my darling,"
he said, putting it on her head, and gazing at
her with proud delight in her rare beauty.
"There! it fits exactly, and is very becoming."

Then taking it off, he returned it to the box,
and bade her look further.

"I am reserving the present for Christmas,"
he said, in answer to her inquiring look.

Elsie turned to the trunk again.

"Dear papa, how good you are to me!" she
said, looking up at him almost with tears of
pleasure in her eyes, as she lifted out, one after
another, a number of costly toys, which she

^326 ELSIE DINSMORE

examined with exclamations of delight, and
then several handsome dresses, some of the
finest, softest merino, and others of thick, rich
silk, all ready made in fashionable style, and
doing credit to his taste and judgment; and
lastly a beautiful velvet pelisse, trimmed with
costly fur, just the thing to wear with her
pretty new hat.

He laughed and patted her cheek.

"We must have these dresses tried on," he
said; "at least one of them; for, as they were
all cut by the same pattern — one of your old
dresses which I took with me — I presume they
^vill all fit alike. There, take this one to
mammy, and tell her to put it on you, and
then come back to me."

"Oh! I wondered how you could get them
the right size, papa," Elsie answered, as she
skipped gayly out of the room.

She was back again in a very few moments,
arrayed in the pretty silk he had selected.

"Ah! it seems to be a perfect fit," said he,
turning her round and round, with a very
gratified look.

"Mammy must dress you to-morrow in one
of these new frocks, and your pretty hat and
pelisse."

Elsie looked troubled,

"Well what is it?" he asked.

ELSIE DINSMORE 327

"I am afraid I shall be thinking of them
in church, papa, if I wear them then for the
first time."

"Pooh! nonsense! what harm if you do?
This squeamishness, Elsie, is the one thing
about you that displeases me very much. But
there! don't look so distressed, my pet. I dare
say you will get over it by-and-by, and be all
I wish; indeed, I sometimes think you have
improved a little already in that respect."

O! what a pang these words sent to her
heart! was it indeed true that she was losing
her tenderness of conscience ? that she was be-
coming less afraid of displeasing and dishon-
oring her Saviour than in former days? The
very thought was anguish.

Her head drooped upon her bosom, and the
small white hands were clasped convulsively
together, while a bitter, repenting cry, a silent,
earnest prayer for pardon and help went up
to Him whose ear is ever open to the cry of
His children.

Her father looked at her in astonishment.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, drawing
her tenderly toward him, and pushing back
the curls from her face; "why do you look so
pained? what did I say that could have hurt
you so ? I did not mean to be harsh and severe,
for it was a very trifling fault."

328 ELSIE DINSMORE

She hid her face on his shoulder and burst
into an agony of tears.

"It was not that, papa, but — but "

"But what, my darling? don't be afraid to
tell me," he answered, soothingly.

"O papa! I — I am afraid I don't — love
Jesus — as much as I did," she faltered out,
between her sobs.

"Ah! that is it, eh? Well, well, you needn't
cry any more. I think you are a very good
little girl, though rather a silly one, I am
afraid, and quite too morbidly conscientious."

He took her on his knee as he spoke, wiped
away her tears, and then began talking in a
lively strain of something else.

Elsie listened, and answered him cheerfully,
but all the evening he noticed that whenever
she was quiet, an unusual expression of sad-
ness would steal over her face.

"What a strange child she is!" he said, to
himself, as he sat musing over the fire, after
sending her to bed. "I cannot understand
her; it is very odd how often I wound, when
I intend to please her."

As for Elsie, she scarcely thought of her new
finery, so troubled was her tender conscience,
so pained her little heart to think that she had
been wandering from her dear Saviour.

But Elsie had learned that "if any man sin,

ELSIE DINSMORE 329

we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus
Christ the righteous,' ' and to Hhn she went
with her sin and sorrow ; she applied anew to
the pardoning, peace-speaking blood of Christ
■ — that "blood of sprinkling that speaketh bet-
ter things than that of Abel"; and thus the
sting of conscience was taken away and her
peace restored, and she was soon resting
quietly on her pillow, for, "so He giveth His
beloved sleep."

Even her father's keen, searching glance,
when she came to him in the morning, could
discover no trace of sadness in her face ; very
quiet and sober it was, but entirely peaceful
and happy, and so it remained all through the
day. Her new clothes did not trouble her ; she
was hardly conscious of wearing them, and
quite able to give her usual solemn and fixed
attention to the services of the sanctuary.

"Where are you going, daughter?" Mr.
Dinsmore asked, as Elsie gently withdrew her
hand from his on leaving the dining-room.

"To my room, papa," she replied.

"Come with me," he said; "I want you."

"What do you want me for, papa?" she
asked, as he sat down and took her on his
knee.

"What for? why to keep, to love, and to
look at," he said, laughing. "I have been

330 ELSIE DINSMORE

away from my little girl so long, that now I
want her close by my side, or on my knee, all
the time. Do you not like to be with me!"

"Dearly well, my own darling papa," she
answered, flinging her little arms around his
neck, and laying her head on his breast.

He fondled her, and chatted with her for
some time ; then, still keeping her on his knee,
took up a book and began to read.

Elsie saw with pain that it was a novel and
longed to beg him to put it away, and spend
the precious hours of the holy Sabbath in the
study of God's word, or some of the lesser
helps to Zion's pilgrims which the saints of
our own or other ages have prepared. But
she knew that it would be quite out of place
for a little child like her to attempt to counsel
or reprove her father; and that, tenderly as
he loved and cherished her, he would never
for one moment allow her to forget their rela-
tive positions.

At length she ventured to ask softly, "Papa,
may I go to my own room now?"

"What for?" he asked; "are you tired of
my company?"

"No, sir, oh! no; but I want — " she hesi-
tated and hung her head for an instant, while
the rich color mounted to cheek and brow;
then, raising it again, she said fearlessly, "I

ELSIE DINSMORE 331

always want to spend a little while with my
best Friend on Sabbath afternoon, papa."

He looked puzzled, and also somewhat dis-
pleased.

"I don't understand you, Elsie," he said;
''you surely can have no better friend than
your father; and can it be possible that you
love anyone else better than you love me?"

Again the little arms were round his neck,
and hugging him close and closer, she whis-
pered, "It was Jesus I meant, papa; you know
He loves me even better than you do, and I
must love Him best of all ; but there is no one
else that I love half so much as I love you, my
own dear, dear precious father."

"Well, you may go; but only for a little
while, mind," he answered, giving her a kiss
and setting her down. "Nay," he added,
hastily; "stay as long as you like; if you feel
it a punishment to be kept here with me, I
would rather do without you."

"Oh! no, no, papa," she said, beseechingly,
and with tears in her eyes; "I do so love to
be with you. Please don't be angry; please
let me come back soon."

"No, darling, I am not angry," he an-
swered, smoothing her hair and smiling kindly
on her ; "come back just when you like, and the
sooner the better."

332 ELSIE DINSMORE

Elsie did not stay away very long; in less
than an hour she returned, bringing her Bible
and "Pilgrim's Progress" with her.

Her father welcomed her with a smile, and
then turned to his novel again, while she drew
a stool to his side, and, sitting down, leaned
her head against his knee, and read until the
short winter day began to close in, and Mr.
Dinsmore, whose hand had been every now
and then laid caressingly upon her curls, said,
"Put away your book now, daughter; it is
growing too dark for you to read without
straining your eyes."

"Please, papa, let me finish the paragraph
first; may I?" she asked.

"No; you must always obey the instant I
speak to you."

Elsie rose at once, and without another word
laid her books upon the table; then, coming
back, claimed her accustomed place upon his
knee, with her head resting on his shoulder.

He put his arm around her, and they sat
silently thus for some moments. At length
Elsie asked, "Papa, did you ever read * Pil-
grim's Progress' V

"Yes; a good while ago, when I was quite
a boy."

"And you did not like it, papa*?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 333

"Yes, very much, though I have nearly for-
gotten the story now. Do you like it?"

"Very much, indeed, papa; I think it comes
next to the Bible."

"Next to the Bible, eh? well, I believe you
are the only little girl of my acquaintance who
thinks that the most beautiful and interesting
book in the world. But, let me see, what is
this * Pilgrim's Progress ' about? some foolish
story of a man with a great load on his back ;
is it not?"

"Foolish! papa; oh! I am sure you don't
mean it; you couldn't think it foolish. Ah!
I know by your smile that you are only saying
it to tease me. It is a beautiful story, papa,
about Christian; how he lived in the City of
Destruction, and had a great burden on his
back, which he tried in every way to get rid
of, but all in vain, until he came to the Cross ;
but then it seemed suddenly to loosen of itself,
and dropped from his back, and rolled away,
and fell into the sepulchre, where it could not
be seen any more."

"Well, and is not that a foolish story? can
you see any sense or meaning in it?" he asked,
with a slight smile, and a keen glance into the
eager little face upturned to his.

"Ah! papa, I know what it means," she
answered, in a half -sorrowful tone. "Chris-

334 ELSIE DINSMORE

tian, with the load on his back, is a person
who has been convinced of sin by God's Holy
Spirit, and feels his sins a heavy burden — too
heavy for him to bear; and then he tries to
get rid of them by leaving off his wicked ways,
and by doing good deeds ; but he soon finds he
can't get rid of his load that way, for it only
grows heavier and heavier, until at last he
gives up trying to save himself, and just goes
to the cross of Jesus Christ; and the moment
he looks to Jesus and trusts in Him, his load
of sin is all gone."

Mr. Dinsmore was surprised ; as, indeed, he
had often been at Elsie's knowledge of spir-
itual things.

"Who told you all that!" he asked.

"I read it in the Bible, papa; and, besides,
I know because I have felt it."

He did not speak again for some moments ;
and then he said very gravely, "I am afraid
you read too many of those dull books. I don't
want you to read things that fill you with sad
and gloomy thoughts, and make you unhappy.
I want my little girl to be merry and happy as
the day is long,"

"Please don't forbid me to read them,
papa," she pleaded, with a look of apprehen-
sion, "for indeed they don't make me un-
happy, and I love them so dearly."

ELSIE DINSMORE 335

"You need not be alarmed. I shall not do
so unless I see that they do affect your spir-
its/' he answered, in a reassuring tone, and
she thanked him with her own bright, sweet
smile.

She was silent for a moment, then asked
suddenly, "Papa, may I say some verses to
you?"

"Some time," he said, "but not now, for
there is the tea-bell"; and taking her hand,
he led her down to the dining-room.

They went to the drawing-room after tea,
but did not stay long. There were no visitors,
and it was very dull and quiet there, no one
seeming inclined for conversation. Old Mr.
Dinsmore sat nodding in his chair, Louise was
drumming on the piano, and the rest were
reading or sitting listlessly, saying nothing,
and Elsie and her papa soon slipped away to
their old seat by his dressing-room fire.

"Sing something for me, my pet, some of
those little hymns I often hear you singing to
yourself," he said, as he took her on his knees ;
and Elsie gladly obeyed.

Some of the pieces she sang alone, but in
others which were familiar to him, her father
joined his deep bass notes to her sweet treble,
at which she was greatly delighted. Then
they read several chapters of the Bible to-

336 ELSIE DINSMORE

gether, and thus the evening passed so quickly
and pleasantly that she was very much sur-
prised when her papa, taking out his watch,
told her it was her bed-time.

"O papa! it has been such a nice, nice eve-
ning !" she said, as she bade him good-night;
"so like the dear old times I used to have with
Miss Rose, only- "

She paused and colored deeply.

"Only what, darling %" he asked, drawing
her caressingly to him.

"Only, papa, if you would pray with me,
like she did," she whispered, winding her
arms about his neck, and hiding her face on
his shoulder.

"That I cannot do, my pet; I have never
learned how, and so I fear you will have to do
all the praying for yourself and me, too," he
said, with a vain effort to speak lightly, for
both heart and conscience were touched.

The only reply was a tightening of the clasp
of the little arms about his neck, and a half-
suppressed sob; then two trembling lips
touched his, a warm tear fell on his cheek, and
she turned away and ran quickly from the
room.

Oh! how earnest and importunate were
Elsie's pleadings at the throne of grace that
night that her "dear, dear papa might soon

ELSIE DINSMORE 337

be taught to love Jesus, and how to pray to
Him." Tears fell fast while she prayed, but
she rose from her knees feeling a joyful assur-
ance that her petitions had been heard, and
would be granted in God's own good time.

She had hardly laid her head upon her pil-
low, when her father came in, and saying, "I
have come to sit beside my little girl till she
falls asleep," placed himself in a chair close
by her side, taking her hand in his and hold-
ing it, as she loved so to have him do.

"I am so glad you have come, papa," she
said, her whole face lighting up with pleased
surprise.

"Are you?" he answered, with a smile.
"I'm afraid I am spoiling you; but I can't
help it to-night. I think you forgot your wish
to repeat some verses to me ?"

"Oh! yes, papa!" she said, "but may I say
them now?"

He nodded assent, and she went on. "They
are some Miss Rose sent me in one of her
letters. She cut them out of a newspaper, she
said, and sent them to me because she liked
them so much ; and I, too, think they are very
sweet. The piece is headed :

338 ELSIE DINSMORE

" THE PILGRIM'S WANTS.

" 'I want a sweet sense of Thy pardoning love,
That my manifold sins are forgiven ;
That Christ as my Advocate, pleadeth above,
That my name is recorded in heaven.

" 'I want every moment to feel

That thy Spirit resides in my heart —
That his power is present to cleanse and to heal,
And newness of life to impart.

M 'I want— oh ! I want to attain

Some likeness, my Savior, to thee!
That longed for resemblance once more to regain.
Thy comeliness put upon me.

"I want to be marked for thine own —
Thy seal on my forehead to wear;

To receive that new name on the mystic white
stone
Which none but thyself can declare.

" 1 want so in thee to abide

As to bring forth some fruit to thy praise ;
The branch which thou prunest, though feeble and
dried,
May languish, but never decays.

" 'I want thine own hand to unbind
Each tie to terrestrial things,
Too tenderly cherished, too closely entwined,
Where my heart so tenaciously clings.

" 'I want, by my aspect serene,

My actions and words, to declare
That my treasure is placed in a country unseen,
That my heart's best affections are there.

" 'I want as a trav'ller to haste

Straight onward, nor pause on my way ;
Nor forethought in anxious contrivance to waste
On the tent only pitched for a day.

ELSIE DINSMORE 339

" 'I want — and thus sums up my prayer —
To glorify thee till I die ;
Then calmly to yield up my soul to thy care,
And breathe out in faith my last sigh.' "*

He was silent for a moment after she had
repeated the last verse; then laying his hand
softly on her head, and looking searchingly
into her eyes, he asked, "And does my little
one really wish all that those words express?''

"Yes, papa, for myself and for you, too,"
she answered. "O papa! I do want to be all
that Jesus would have me! just like Him; so
like Him that everybody who knows me will
see the likeness and know that I belong to
Him."

"Nay; you belong to me," he said, leaning
over her and patting her cheek. "Hush! not
a syllable from your lips. I will have no gain-
saying of my words, ' ' he added, wth a mixture
of authority and playfulness, as she seemed
about to reply. "Now shut your eyes and go
to sleep ; I will have no more talking to-night."

She obeyed at once; the white lids gently
closed over the sweet eyes, the long, dark
lashes rested quietly on the fair, round cheek,
and soon her soft, regular breathing told that
she had passed into the land of dreams.

*These beautiful words are not mine, nor do I know either
the name of the author or where they were originally pub-
lished.

340 ELSIE DINSMORE

Her father sat, still holding the little hand,
and still gazing tenderly upon the sweet young
face, till, something in its expression remind-
ing him of words she had just repeated,

"I want to be marked for thine own —
Thy seal on my forehead to wear,"

"Ah, my darling, that prayer is granted
already !" he murmured, "for, ah me! you
seem almost too good and pure for earth. But
oh, God forbid that you should be taken from
me to that place where I can see that your
heart is even now. How desolate should I be ! ' '
and he turned away with a shiver and a heavy
sigh, and hastily quitted the room.

CHAPTER XIII.

"An angel face ! its sunny wealth of hair,
In radiant ripples bathed the graceful throat
And dimpled shoulders."

— Mrs. Osgood.

The cold gray light of a winter morning was
stealing in through the half-closed blinds as
Elsie awoke, and started up in bed, with the
thought that this was the day on which sev-
eral of her young guests were expected, and
that her papa had promised her a walk with
him before breakfast, if she were ready in
time.

Aunt Chloe had already risen, and a bright
fire was blazing and crackling on the hearth,
which she was carefully sweeping up.

"Good-morning, mammy," said the little
girl. "Are you ready to dress me now?"

"What, you 'wake, darlin'?" cried the fond
old creature, turning quickly round at the
sound of her nursling's voice. "Better lie
still, honey, till de room gets warm."

"I'll wait a little while, mammy," Elsie said,
lying down again, "but I must get up soon;
for I wouldn't miss my walk with papa for a

341

342 ELSIE DINSMORE

great deal. Please throw the shutters wide
open and let the daylight in. I'm so glad it
has come.''

"Why, my bressed lamb, you didn't lie
awake lookin' for de mornin', did you? You
ain't sick, nor sufferin' any way?" exclaimed
Chloe, in a tone of mingled concern and in-
quiry, as she hastily set down her broom and
came toward the bed, with a look of loving
anxiety on her dark face.

"Oh, no, mammy! I slept nicely, and feel
as well as can be,:' replied the little girl; "but
I am glad to see this new day, because I hope
it is going to be a very happy one. Garry
Howard and a good many of my little friends
are coming, you know, and I think we will
have a very pleasant time together."

"Your ole mammy hopes you will, darlin',''
replied Chloe, heartily; "an' I'se glad 'nough
to see you lookin' so bright an' well; but jes'
you lie still till it gets warm here. I'll open
de shutters, an' fotch some more wood for de
fire, an' clar up de room, an' by dat time I
reckon you can get up."

Elsie waited patiently till Chloe pronounced
the room warm enough, then sprang up with
an eager haste, asking to be dressed as quickly
as possible, that she might go to her papa.

"Don't you go for to worry yourself, daf-

ELSIE DINSMORE 343

lin'; dere's plenty ob time," said Chloe, begin-
ning her work with all speed, however; "de
mistress has ordered de breakfast at nine,
dese holiday times, to let de ladies an' gen'le-
men take a mornin' nap if dey likes it."

' ' Oh, yes, mammy ! and that reminds me that
papa said I must eat a cracker or something
before I take my walk, because he thinks it
isn't good for people to exercise much on an
entirely empty stomach," said Elsie. "Will
you get me one when you have done my curls Vf

"Yes, honey; dere's a paper full in de
drawer yonder," replied Chloe, "an' I reckon
you better eat two or three, or you'll be mighty
hungry 'fore you gits your breakfast."

It still wanted a few minutes of eight o'clock
when Elsie's gentle rap was heard at her
papa's dressing-room door. He opened it, and
stooping to give her a good-morning kiss, said,
with a pleased smile, "How bright and well
my darling looks! Had you a good night's
rest?"

"Oh, yes, papa! I never waked once till it
began to be light," she replied; "and now I'm
all ready for our walk."

"In good season, too," he said. "Well, we
will start presently ; but take on* your hat and
come and sit on my knee a little while first;
breakfast will be late this morning, and we

344 ELSIE DINSMORE

need not hurry. Did you get something to
eat?" he asked, as he seated himself by the
fire and drew her to his side.

"Yes, papa, I ate a cracker, and I think I
will not get very hungry before nine o'clock;
and I'm very glad we have so much time for
our walk," she replied, as she took her place
on his knee. ' i Shall we not start soon ? ' •

" Presently," he said, stroking her hair;
"but it will not hurt you to get well warmed
first, for it is a sharp morning."

"You are very careful of me, dear papa,"
she said, laying her head on his breast, "and
oh ! it is so nice to have a papa to love me and
take care of me."

"And it is so nice to have a dear little daugh-
ter to love and to take care of," he answered,
pressing her closer to him.

The house was still very quiet, no one seem-
ing to be astir but the servants, as Mr. Dins-
more and Elsie went down the stairs and
passed out through the hall.

"Oh, papa! it is going to be such a nice day,
and I feel so happy!" Elsie gaily exclaimed,
as they started down the avenue.

"Do you, daughter?" he said, regarding her
with an expression of intense, yearning affec-
tion; "I wish I could make you always as gay
and happy as you are at this moment. But

ELSIE DINSMORE 345

alas ! it cannot be, my darling," he added, with
a sigh.

"I know that, papa," she said, with sudden
gravity, " 'for man that is born of woman is
of few days, and full of trouble,' the Bible
says; but I don't feel frightened at that, be-
cause it tells me, besides, that Jesus loves me,
oh, so dearly! and will never leave nor forsake
me ; and that He has all power in heaven and
in earth, and will never let anything happen
to me but what shall do me good. O papa, it
is such a happy thing to have the dear Lord
Jesus for your friend ! ' '

"It is strange how everything seems to lead
your thoughts to Him," he said, giving her
a wondering look.

"Yes, papa; it is because I love Him so,"
she answered, simply; and the father sighed
as the thought arose, "Better than she loves
me, even as she told me herself. Ah ! I would
I could be all — everything to her, as she is fast
becoming to me. I cannot feel satisfied, and
yet I believe few daughters love their fathers
as well as she loves me"; and fondly pressing
the little hand he held, he looked down upon
her with beaming eyes.

She raised hers to his face with an expres-
sion of confiding affection ; and, as though she
had read his thoughts: "Yes, papa," she said,

346 ELSIE DINSMORE

"I love you dearly, dearly, too; better than all
the world besides. ' '

Breakfast — always a plentiful and inviting
meal at Roselands — was already upon the
table when they returned, and they brought
to it appetites sufficiently keen to make it very
enjoyable.

Elsie spent the first hour after breakfast at
the piano, practicing, and the second in her
papa's dressing-room, studying and reciting
to him; then they took a long ride on horse-
back, and when they returned she found that
quite a number of the expected guests had
already arrived.

Among them was Caroline Howard, a favor-
ite friend of Elsie's; a pretty, sweet-tempered
little girl, about a year older than herself.

Caroline had been away paying a long visit
to some friends in the North, and so the two
little, girls had not met for nearly a year, and
of course they had a great deal to say to each
other.

They chatted a few moments in the drawing-
room, and then Elsie carried her friend off
with her to her own room, that they might go
on with their talk while she was getting
dressed for dinner. Caroline had much to tell
of her Northern relatives, and of all she had
seen and heard, and Elsie of her new-found

ELSIE DINSMORE 347

parent, and her happiness in being so loved
and cared for; and so the little tongues ran
very fast, neither of them feeling Chloe's pres-
ence any restraint. But she soon completed
her task, and went out, leaving the two sitting
on the sofa together, laughing and talking
merrily while awaiting the summons to dinner,
which they were to take that day along with
their elders.

' 'How pretty your hair is, Elsie," said Caro-
line, winding the glossy ringlets around her
finger, "I wish you'd give me one of these
curls. I want to get a bracelet made for
mamma, and she thinks so much of you, and
your hair is such a lovely color, that I am sure
she would be delighted with one made of it. ' '

"A Christmas gift is it to be ?" asked Elsie ;
"but how will you get it done in time ? for you
know day after to-morrow is Christmas.' '

"Yes, I know, but if I could get into the
city this afternoon, I think I might get them
to promise it by to-morrow night."

"Well, you shall have the curl, at any rate,
if you will just take the scissors and help your-
self, and poor mammy will have the fewer to
curl the next time," Elsie answered, laugh-
ingly. "But mind," she added, as Caroline
prepared to avail herself of the permission,
! ' that you take it where it will not be missed. ? ■

348 ELSIE DINSMORE

1 1 Of course I will ; I don't want to spoil your
beauty, though you are so much prettier
than I," was Caroline's laughing rejoinder.
" There," she cried, holding up the severed
ringlet, " isn't it a beauty? but don't look
scared ; it will never be missed among so many ;
I don't even miss it myself, although I know
it is gone."

"Well," Elsie said, shaking back her curls,
"suppose we go down to the drawing-room
now, and I will ask papa to take us to the city
this afternoon ; or, if he is too busy to go him-
self, to let Pomp or Ajax drive us in."

"I think it would be better fun to go alone,
Elsie — don't you?" asked Caroline, with some
hesitation; adding quickly: "Don't be vexed,
but I must confess I am more than half afraid
of your father."

"Oh! you wouldn't be, Carry, if you knew
him," Elsie answered, in her eager way; "I
was a little afraid myself, at first, but now I
love him so dearly, I never want to go any-
where without him."

They found Mr. Dinsmore in the drawing-
room, where most of the guests and the older
members of the family were assembled. He
was conversing with a strange gentleman, and
his little girl stood quietly at his side, patiently
waiting until he should be ready to give her

ELSIE DINSMORE 349

his attention. She had to wait some moments,
for the gentlemen were discussing some polit-
ical question, and were too much engaged to
notice her.

But at length her father put his arm around
her, and with a kind smile asked, "What is
it, daughter?"

"Carry and I want to go to the city, this
afternoon; won't you take us, papa?"

"I wish I could, my dear, but I have an
engagement, which makes it quite impossible."

"Ah, I'm so sorry; but then, papa, we may
have one of the carriages, and Pomp or Ajax
to drive us, may we not?"

"No, daughter; I am sorry to disappoint
you, but I am afraid you are too young to be
trusted on such an expedition with only a
servant. You must wait until to-morrow,
when I can take you myself."

"But, papa, we want to go to-day. Oh!
please do say yes ; we want to go so very much,
and I'm sure we could do very nicely by
ourselves."

Her arm was around his neck, and both tone
and look were very coaxing.

"My little daughter forgets that when papa
says no, she is never to ask again."

Elsie blushed and hung her head. His man-

350 ELSIE DINSMORE

ner was quite too grave and decided for her to
venture another word.

"What is the matter? what does Elsie
want?" asked Adelaide, who was standing
near, and had overheard enough to have some
idea of the trouble.

Mr. Dinsmore explained, and Adelaide at
once offered to take charge of the little girls,
saying that she intended shopping a little in
the city herself that very afternoon.

"Thank you," said her brother, looking very
much pleased; "that obviates the difficulty en-
tirely. Elsie, you may go, if Mrs. Howard
gives Caroline permission."

"Thank you, dear papa, thank you so very
much," she answered gratefully, and then ran
away to tell Carry of her success, and secure
Mrs. Howard's permission, which was easily
obtained.

Elsie had intended buying some little pres-
ent for each of the house-servants, and had
taken a great deal of pleasure in making out
a list of such articles as she thought would be
suitable; but, on examining her purse, she
found to her dismay that she had already spent
so much on the miniature, and various gifts in-
tended for other members of the family, that
there was very little left; and it was with a
very sober, almost sorrowful face, that she

ELSIE DINSMORE 351

came down to take her place in the carriage ;
it brightened instantly, though, as she caught
sight of her father waiting to see her off.

"All ready, my darling?" he said, holding
out his hand; "I think you will have a pleas-
ant ride."

"Ah! yes, if you were only going too, papa,"
she answered regretfully,

"Quite impossible, my pet ; but here is some-
thing to help you in your shopping; use it
wisely"; and he put a twenty-dollar gold piece
in her hand.

"Oh, thank you, papa! how good and kind
you are to me!" she exclaimed, her whole face
lighting up with pleasure; "now I can buy
some things I wanted to get for mammy and
the rest. But how could you know I wanted
more money?"

He only smiled, lifted her up in his arms,
and kissed her fondly; then, placing her in
the carriage, said to the coachman, "Drive
carefully, Ajax; you are carrying my greatest
treasure."

"Nebber fear, marster; dese ole horses
nebber tink of running away," replied the
negro, with a bow and a grin, as he touched
his horses with the whip, and drove off.

It was growing quite dark when the carriage
again drove up the avenue; and Mr. Horace

352 ELSIE DINSMORE

Dinsmore, who was beginning to feel a little
anxious, came out to receive them, and asked
what had detained them so long.

"Long!" said Adelaide, in a tone of sur-
prise, "you gentlemen really have no idea
what an undertaking it is to shop. Why, I
thought we got through in a wonderfully short
time."

"O papa, I have bought such quantities of
nice things," cried Elsie, springing into his
arms.

"Such as tobacco, pipes, red flannel, et cet-
era," remarked Adelaide, laughing.

"Indeed, Miss Adelaide!" exclaimed Carry,
somewhat indignantly, "you forget the "

But Elsie's little hand was suddenly placed
over her mouth, and Carry laughed pleasantly,
saying, "Ah! I forgot, I mustn't tell."

"Papa, papa," cried Elsie, catching hold of
his hand, "do come with me to my room, and
let me show you my purchases."

"I will, darling," he answered, pinching her
cheek. "Here, Bill" — to a servant — " carry
these bundles to Miss Elsie's room."

Then, picking her up, he tossed her over his
shoulder, and carried her up-stairs, as easily
as though she had been a baby, she clinging to
him and laughing merrily.

"Why, papa, how strong you are," she said,

ELSIE DINSMORE 353

as he set her down. "I believe you can carry
me as easily as I can my doll."

* * To be sure ; you are my doll, ' ' said he, * ' and
a very light burden for a man of my size and
strength. But here come the bundles ! what a
number! no wonder you were late in getting
home.,,

"Oh! yes, papa, see! I want to show you!"
and catching up one of them, she hastily tore
it open, displaying a very gay handkerchief.
"This is a turban for Aunt Phillis ; and this is
a pound of tobacco for old Uncle Jack, and a
nice pipe, too. Look, mammy! won't he be
pleased 1 And here 's some flannel for poor old
Aunt Dinah, who has the rheumatism; and
that — oh! no, no, mammy! don't you open
that! It's a nice shawl for her, papa," she
whispered in his ear.

"Ah!" he said, smiling; "and which is my
present % You had better point it out, lest I
should stumble upon it and learn the secret too
soon."

"There is none here for you, sir," she re-
plied, looking up into his face with an arch
smile. "I would give you the bundle you car-
ried up-stairs, just now, but I'm afraid you
would say that was not mine to give, because
it belongs to you alreadyo"

"Indeed it does-, and I feel richer in that

354 ELSIE DINSMORE

possession than all the gold of California could
make me," he said, pressing her to his heart.

She looked surpassingly lovely at that mo-
ment, her cheeks burning and her eyes spark-
ling with excitement; the dark, fur-trimmed
pelisse, and the velvet hat and plumes setting
off: to advantage the whiteness of her pure
complexion and the glossy ringlets falling in
rich masses on her shoulders.

"My own papa! I'm so glad I do belong to
you/' she said, throwing her arms around his
neck, and laying her cheek to his for an in-
stant. Then springing away, she added: "But
I must show you the rest of the things ; there
are a good many more."

And she went on opening bundle after bun-
dle, displaying their contents, and telling him
for whom she intended them, until at last they
had all been examined, and then she said, a lit-
tle wearily, "Now, mammy,- please put them
all away until to-morrow. But first take on8
my things and get me ready to go down-
stairs.' '

"No, daughter," Mr. Dinsmore said in a
gentle but firm tone; "you are not ready to
have them put away until the price of each
has been set down in your book."

"Oh! papa," she pleaded, "won't to-mor-

ELSIE DINSMORE 355

row do? I'm tired now, and isn't it almost
tea-time?"

"No ; never put off till to-morrow what may
as well be done to-day. There is nearly an
hour yet before tea, and I do not think it need
fatigue you much."

Elsie's face clouded, and the slightest ap-
proach to a pout might have been perceived.

"I hope my little girl is not going to be
naughty," he said, very gravely.

Her face brightened in an instant. "No,
papa," she answered cheerfully, "I will be
good, and do whatever you bid me."

"That is my own darling," said he, "and I
will help you, and it will not take long."

He opened her writing-desk as he spoke, and
took out her account-book.

"Oh! papa!" she cried in a startled tone,
springing forward and taking hold of his
hand, "please, please don't look! you know
you said I need not show you until after
Christmas."

"No, I will not," he replied, smiling at her
eagerness; "you shall put down the items in
the book, while I write the labels, and Aunt
Chloe pins them on. Will that do?"

"Oh! that's a nice plan, papa," she said
gayly, as she threw off her hat and pelisse, and

356 ELSIE DINSMORE

seating herself before the desk, took out her
pen and ink.

Chloe put the hat and pelisse carefully
away, brought a comb and brush, and smooth-
ed her nursling's hair, and then began her
share of the business on hand.

Half an hour's work finished it all, and El-
sie wiped her pen, and laid it away, saying
joyously, "Oh! I'm so glad it is all done."

"Papa knew best, after all, did he not?"
asked her latner, drawing her to him, and pat-
ting her cheek.

"Yes, papa," she said softly; "you always
know best, and I am very sorry I was
naughty."

He answered with a kiss, and, taking her
hand, led her down to the drawing-room.

After tea the young people adjourned to the
nursery, where they amused themselves with
a variety of innocent games. Quite early in
the evening, and greatly to Elsie's delight, her
father joined them; and, though some of the
young strangers were at first rather shy of
him, they soon found that he could enter heart-
ily into their sports, and before the time came
to separate for the night, he had made him'
self very popular with nearly all.

Time flew fast, and Elsie was very much
surprised when the clock struck eight. Half-

ELSIE DINSMORE 357

past was her bed-time, and, as she now and
then glanced up at the dial-plate, she thought
the hands had never moved so fast. As it
struck the half hour she drew near her fath-
er's side.

"Papa," she asked, "is the clock right?"

"Yes, my dear, it is," he replied, comparing
it with his watch.

"And must I go to bed now?" she asked,
half hoping for permission to stay up a little
longer.

"Yes, daughter; keep to rules."

Elsie looked disappointed, and several little
voices urged, ' ' Oh, do let her stay up another
hour, or at least till nine o'clock."

"No; I cannot often allow a departure from
rules," he said kindly, but firmly; "and to-
morrow night Elsie will find it harder to go
to bed in season than to-night. Bid your little
friends good-night, my dear, and go at once."

Elsie obeyed, readily and cheerfully. "You,
too, papa," she said, coming to him last.

"No, darling," he answered, laying his
hand caressingly on her head, and smiling ap-
provingly on her; "I will come for my good-
night kiss before you are asleep."

Elsie looked very glad, and went away feel-
ing herself the happiest little girl in the land,
in spite of the annoyance of being forced to

358 ELSIE DINSMORE

leave the merry group in the nursery. She
was just ready for bed when her papa came
in, and, taking her in his arms, folded her to
his heart, saying, "My own darling! my good,
obedient little daughter!"

"Dear papa, I love you so much!" she re-
plied, twining her arms around his neck, "I
love you all the better for never letting me
have my own way, but always making me obey
and keep to rules."

"I don't doubt it, daughter," he said, "for I
have often noticed that spoiled, petted chil-
dren usually have very little love for their
parents, or indeed for anyone but themselves.
But I must put you in your bed, or you will
be in danger of taking cold."

He laid her down, tucked the clothes snugly
about her, and pressing one more kiss on the
round, rosy cheek, left her to her slumbers.

>,

CHAPTER XIV.

"You play the spaniel,
And think with wagging of your tongue to win me."
—Shakespeare's Henry Eighth.

"These delights, if thou canst give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live."

— Milton's V Allegro.

The young party at Roselands had now
grown so large — several additions having been
made to it on Monday afternoon and evening
— that a separate table was ordered to be
spread for them in the nursery, where they
took their meals together; Mrs. Brown, the
housekeeper, taking the head of the table, for
the double purpose of keeping them in order
and seeng that their wants were well sup-
plied.

Elsie came in to breakfast, from a brisk
walk with her papa, looking fresh and rosy,
and bright as the morning; quite different
from some of the little guests, who had been
up far beyond their usual hours the night be-
fore, and, having just left their beds, had
come down pale and languid in looks, and in
some instances showing peevish and fretful

359

360 ELSIE DINSMORE

tempers, very trying to the patience of their
attendants.

"O Elsie!" exclaimed Carry Howard, as the
little girl took her place at the table, "we were
all so sorry that you had to leave us so soon
last night ; we had lots of fun after you left.
I think your papa might have let you stay up
a little longer; but he has promised that to-
night— as we are to have the Christmas-tree,
and ever so much will be going on — you shall
stay up till half -past nine, if you like. Aren't
you glad % I 'm sure I am. ' '

"Yes, papa is very kind, and I know I feel
much better for going to bed early last night,"
said Elsie, cheerfully.

"Yes, indeed," remarked Mrs. Brown, "late
hours and rich food are very bad for little
folks, and I notice that Miss Elsie has grown
a great deal stronger and healthier-looking
since her papa came home ; he takes such good
care of her."

"Indeed he does," said Elsie heartily,
thanking Mrs. Brown with one of her sweet-
est smiles.

"What are we going to do to-day, Elsie?"
asked Caroline.

1 i Whatever you all prefer, ' ' said Elsie. * ' If
you like I will practice that duet with you the
first hour after breakf ast3 or do anything else

ELSIE DINSMORE 361

you wish; but the second hour I must speud
with papa, and after that I have nothing to do
but entertain my company all day."

"Do you do lessons in holidays V9 asked
Mary Leslie, a merry, fun-loving child, about
Elsie's own age, who considered lessons an in-
tolerable bore, and had some vague idea that
they must have been invented for the sole pur-
pose of tormenting children. Her blue eyes
opened wide with astonishment when Elsie
quietly replied that her papa had kindly ar-
ranged to give her an hour every morning, be-
cause he knew it would be so much pleasanter
for her than spending the whole day in play.

Elsie did keenly enjoy that quiet hour spent
in studying and reciting to her father, sitting
on a low stool at his feet, or perhaps oftener
on his knee, with his arm around her waist.

She had an eager and growing thirst for
knowledge, and was an apt scholar whom any-
one with the least love for the profession
might have delighted in teaching; and Mr.
Dinsmore, a thorough scholar himself, and lov-
ing knowledge for its own sake — loving also
his little pupil with all a father's fond, yearn-
ing affection — delighted in his task.

When Elsie left her father she found that
the Carringtons had just arrived. She and
Lucy had not seen each other since the week

362 ELSIE DINSMORE

the latter had spent at Roselands early in the
summer, and both felt pleased to meet.

Mrs. Carrington gave Elsie a warm em-
brace, remarking that she had grown, and
was looking extremely well; better than she
had ever seen her. But no one was more de-
lighted to meet Elsie than Herbert, and she
was very glad to learn that his health was
gradually improving. He was not, however,
at all strong, even yet, and his mother thought
it best for him to lie down and rest a little
after his ride. She promised to sit by him,
and the two little girls went in search of the
rest of the young folks.

Several of the older boys had gone out walk-
ing or riding, but the younger ones and all the
little girls were gathered in a little back par-
lor, where, by Adelaide's care and fore-
thought, a variety of story-books, toys, and
games had been provided for their amuse-
ment. Elsie's entrance was hailed with de-
light, for she was a general favorite.

"Oh! Elsie, can't you tell us what to play?"
cried Mary Leslie; "I'm so tired," and she
yawned wearily.

"Here are some dissected maps, Mary," re-
plied Elsie, opening a drawer ; "would you not
like them?"

ELSIE DINSMORE 363

"No, indeed, thank you; they are too much
like lessons.' '

"Here are blocks; will you build houses?"

"Oh! I am too big for that; they are very
nice for little children."

"Will you play jack-stones? here are some
smooth pebbles."

"Yes, if you and Carry, and Lucy, will play
with me."

"Agreed!" said the others, "let's have a
game."

So, Elsie, having first set the little ones to
building block-houses, supplied Harry Car-
rington — an older brother of Lucy's — with a
book, and two younger boys with dissected
maps to arrange, the four girls sat down in a
circle on the carpet and began their game.

For a few moments all went on smoothly;
but soon angry and complaining words were
heard coming from the corner where the
house-building was going on. Elsie left her
game to try to make peace.

"What is the matter, Flora, dear?" she
asked soothingly of a little curly-headed girl,
who was sobbing and wiping her eyes with the
corner of her apron.

"Enna took my blocks," sobbed the child.

"Oh! Enna, won't you give them back?"
said Elsie, coaxingly; "you know Flora is a

364 ELSIE DINSMORE

visitor, and we must be very polite to her."

"No, I won't," returned Enna, flatly;
"she's got enough now."

"No, I haven't; I can't build a house with
those," Flora said, with another sob.

Elsie stood a moment looking much per-
plexed; then, with a brightening face, ex-
claimed in her cheerful, pleasant way, "Well,
never mind, Flora, dear, I will get you my doll.
Will not that do quite as well?"

"Oh! yes, I'd rather have the doll, Elsie,"
the little weeper answered eagerly, smiling
through her tears.

Elsie ran out of the room and was back
again almost in a moment, with the doll in her
arms.

"There, dear little Flora," she said, laying
it gently on the child's lap; "please be care-
ful of it for I have had it a long while, and
prize it very much, because my guardian gave
it to me when I was a very little girl, and he is
dead now."

"I won't break it, Elsie, indeed I won't,"
replied Flora, confidently ; and Elsie sat down
to her game again.

A few moments afterward Mr. Horace Dins-
more passed through the room.

"Elsie," he said, as he caught sight of his
little daughter, "go up to my dressing-room."

ELSIE DINSMORE 365

There was evidently displeasure and re-
proof in his tone, and, entirely unconscious of
wrongdoing, Elsie looked up in surprise, ask-
ing, "Why, papa?"

" Because I bid you," he replied; and she
silently obeyed, wondering greatly what she
had done to displease her father.

Mr. Dinsmore passed out of one door while
Elsie left by the other.

The three little girls looked inquiringly into
each other's faces.

"What is the matter? What has Elsie
done f " asked Carry in a whisper.

"I don't know; nothing I guess," replied
Lucy, indignantly. "I do believe he's just the
crossest man alive ! When I was here last sum-
mer he was all the time scolding and punish-
ing poor Elsie for just nothing at all."

"I think he must be very strict," said
Carry; "but Elsie seems to love him very
much."

"Strict! I guess he is!" exclaimed Mary;
"why, only think, girls, he makes her do her
lessons in the holidays!"

"I suspect she did not know her lesson, and
has to learn it over, ' ' said Carry, shaking her
head wisely ; and that was the conclusion they
all came to.

In the meantime Elsie sat down alone in

366 ELSIE DINSMORE

her banishment, and tried to think what she
could have done to deserve it.

It was some time before she could form any
idea of its cause; but at length it suddenly
came to her recollection that once, several
months before this, her father had found her
sitting on the carpet, and had bade her get up
immediately and sit on a chair or stool, say-
ing, " Never let me see you sitting on the floor,
Elsie* when there are plenty of seats at hand.
I consider it a very unladylike and slovenly
trick."

She covered her face with her hands, and
sat thus for some moments, feeling very sorry
for her forgetfulness and disobedience; very
penitent on account of it; and then, kneeling
down, she asked forgiveness of God.

A full hour she had been there alone, and
the time had seemed very long, when at last
the door opened and her father came in.

Elsie rose and came forward to meet him
with the air of one who had offended and
knew she was in disgrace) but putting one of
her little hands in his, she looked up plead-
ingly into his face, asking, in a slightly trem-
ulous tone, "Dear papa, are you angry with
me?"

"lam always displeased when you disobey

ELSIE DINSMORE 367

me, Elsie," he replied, very gravely, laying his
other hand on her head.

' ' I am very sorry I was naughty, papa, ' ' she
said, humbly, and casting down her eyes, "but
I had quite forgotten that you had told me not
to sit on the floor, and I could not think for a
good while what it was that I had done
wrong."

"Is that an excuse for disobedience, Elsie?"
he asked in a tone of grave displeasure.

"No, sir; I did not mean it so, and I am
very, very sorry; dear papa, please forgive
me, and I will try never to forget again."

" I think you disobeyed in another matter,"
he said.

"Yes, sir; I know it was very naughty to
ask why, but I think I will remember not to
do it again. Dear papa, won't you forgive
mef

He sat down and took her on his knee.

"Yes, daughter, I will," he said, in his usual
kind, affectionate tone ; "I am always ready to
forgive my little girl when I see that she is
sorry for a fault."

She held up her face for a kiss, which he
gave.

"I wish I could always be good, papa," she
said, "but I am naughty so often."

"No," said he, "I think you have been a

368 ELSIE DINSMORE

very good girl for quite a long time. If you
were as naughty as Arthur and Enna, I don't
know what I should do with you; whip you
every day, I suspect, until I made a better girl
of you. Now you may go down to your mates ;
but remember, you are not to play jack-stones
again."

It was now lunch-time, and Elsie found the
children in the nursery engaged in eating.

Flora turned to her as she entered.

"Please, Elsie, don't be cross," she said
coaxingly: "I am real sorry your doll's brok-
en, but it wasn't my fault. Enna would try
to snatch it, and that made it fall and break its
head."

Poor Elsie! this was quite a trial, and she
could scarcely keep back the tears as, follow-
ing Flora's glance, she saw her valued doll ly-
ing on the window-seat with its head broken
entirely off. She said not a word, but, hastily
crossing the room, took it up and gazed mourn-
fully at it.

Kind Mrs. Brown, who had just finished
helping her young charges all round, followed
her to the window.

"Never mind, dear," she said in her pleas-
ant, cheery tone, patting Elsie's cheek and
smoothing her hair. "I've got some excellent
glue, and I think I can stick it on again and

ELSIE DINSMORE 369

make it almost as good as ever. So come, sit
down and eat your lunch, and don't fret any
more."

"Thank you, ma'am, you are very kind,"
Elsie said, trying to smile, as the kind-hearted
old lady led her to the table and filled her plate
with fruit and cakes.

- i These cakes are very simple, not at all rich,
my dear, but quite what your papa would ap-
prove of," she said, seeing the little girl look
doubtfully at them.

"Doesn't your papa let you eat anything
good, Elsie?" asked Mary Leslie across the
table. ' ' He must be cross. ' '

' ' No, indeed, he is not, Mary, and he lets me
eat everything that he thinks is good for me,"
Elsie answered with some warmth.

She was seated between Caroline Howard
and Lucy Carrington.

"What did your papa send you away for,
Elsie?" whispered the latter.

"Please don't ask me, Lucy," replied the
little girl, blushing deeply. "Papa always has
a good reason for what he does, and he is just
the dearest, kindest, and best father that ever
anybody had."

Elsie spoke in an eager, excited, almost an-
gry manner, quite unusual with her, while the
hot tears came into her eyes, for she knew

370 ELSIE DINSMORE

very well what was Lucy's opinion of her
father, and more than half suspected that she
had been making some unkind remark about
him to the others, and she was eager to re-
move any unfavorable impression they might
have received.

"I am sure he must love you very dearly,
Elsie," remarked Caroline, soothingly; "no
one could help seeing that just by the way he
looks at you."

Elsie answered her with a pleased and
grateful look; and then changed the subject
by proposing that they should all take a walk
as soon as they had finished eating, as the day
was fine, and there would be plenty of time
before dinner.

The motion was carried without a dissent-
ing voice, and in a few moments they all set
out, a very merry party, full of fun and frolic.
They had a very pleasant time, and returned
barely in season to be dressed for dinner.

They dined by themselves in the nursery,
but were afterward taken down to the draw-
ing-room. Here Elsie found herself immedi-
ately seized upon by a young lady dressed in
very gay and fashionable style, whom she did
not remember ever to have seen before, but
who insisted on seating the little girl on the
sofa by her side, and keeping her there a long

ELSIE DINSMORE 371

while, loading her with caresses and flattery.

''My dear child/ ' she said, "what lovely
hair you have! so fine, and soft, and glossy;
such a beautiful color, too, and curls so splen-
didly! Natural ringlets, I'm sure, are they
not?"

"Yes, ma'am," Elsie answered simply,
wishing from the bottom of her heart that the
lady would release her, and talk to someone
else.

But the lady had no such intention.

' ' You are a very sweet little girl, I am sure,
and I shall love you dearly," she said, kissing
her several times. "Ah! I would give any-
thing if I had such a clear, fair complexion
and such rosy cheeks. That makes you blush.
Well, I like to see it ; blushes are very becom-
ing. Oh! you needn't pretend you don't know
you're handsome; you're a perfect little
beauty. Do tell me, where did you get such
splendid eyes? But I needn't ask, for I have
only to look at your father to see where they
came from. Mr. Dinsmore" — to Elsie's papa,
who just then came toward them — "you ought
to be very proud of this child ; she is the very
image of yourself, and a perfect little beauty,
too."

"Miss Stevens. is pleased to flatter me," he
said, bowing low; "but flattery is not good for

372 ELSIE DINSMORE

either grown-up children or younger ones, and
I must beg leave to decline the complin} ent, as
I cannot see that Elsie bears the slightest re-
semblance to me or any of my family. She is
very like her mother, though," he added, with
a half sigh and a tender, loving glance at his
little girl, "and that is just what I would have
her. But I am forgetting my errand, Miss
Stevens; I came to ask if you will ride this
afternoon, as we are getting up a small party.7'

"Yes, thank you, I should like it dearly, it
is such a lovely day. But how soon do you
start?"

"As soon as the ladies can be ready. The
horses will be at the door in a very few mo-
ments."

"Ah! then I must go and prepare," she said,
rising and sailing out of the room.

Mr. Dinsmore took tne seat she had vacated,
and, passing his arm round his little girl, said
to her in an undertone, "My little daughter
must not be so foolish as to believe that people
mean all they say to her; for some persons
talk in a very thoughtless way, and, without
perhaps intending to be exactly untruthful,
say a great deal that they really do not mean.
And I should be sorry, indeed, to see my little
girl so spoiled by all this silly flattery as to
grow up conceited and vain."

ELSIE DINSMORE 373

She looked at him with her own sweet inno-
cent smile, free from the slightest touch of
vanity.

"No, papa," she said, "I do not mind when
people say such things, because I know the
Bible says, * Favor is deceitful, and Beauty is
vain; and in another place, 'He that flattereth
his neighbor spreadeth a net for his feet.' So
I will try to keep away from that lady; shall
I not, papa*?"

"Whenever you can do so without rudeness,
daughter;" and he moved away, thinking to
himself, "How strangely the teachings of that
book seem to preserve my child from every evil
influence."

A sigh escaped him. There was lurking
within his breast a vague consciousness that
her father needed such a safeguard, but had
it not.

Lucy, who was standing at the window,
turned quickly round.

"Come, girls," she said, "let us run out and
see them off; they're bringing up the horses.
And see, there's Miss Adelaide in her riding-
dress and cap; how pretty she looks! And
there's that Miss Stevens coming out now;
hateful thing! I can't bear her! Come, El-
sie and Carry!"

And she ran out, Caroline and Elsie follow-

374 ELSIE DINSMORE

ing. Elsie, however, went no further than the
hall, where she stood still at the foot of the
stairs.

"Come, Elsie," called the other two from
the portico, "come out here."

"No," replied the little girl, "I cannot come
without something round me. Papa says it is
too cold for me to be out in the wind to-day
with my neck and arms bare."

"Pooh! nonsense!" said Lucy, " 'tain't a
bit cold; do come now."

"No, Lucy, I must obey my father," Elsie
answered in a very pleasant but no less de-
cided tone.

Someone caught her round the waist and
lifted her up.

"Oh ! papa," she exclaimed, "I did not know
you were there! I wish I was going too; I
don't like to have you go without me."

"I wish you were, my pet; I always love to
have you with me; but you know it wouldn't
do; you have your little guests to entertain.
Good-bye, darling. Don't go out in the cold."

He kissed her, as he always did now, when
leaving her even for an hour or two, and set
her down.

The little girls watched until the last of the
party had disappeared down the avenue, and
then ran gayly up-stairs to Elsie's room,

ELSIE DINSMORE 375

where they busied themselves until tea-time
in various little preparations for the evening,
such as dressing dolls, and tying up bundles
of confectionery, etc., to be hung upon the
Christmas-tree.

The children had all noticed that the doors
of a parlor opening into the drawing-room had
been closed since morning to all but a favored
few, who passed in and out, with an air of
mystery and importance, and generally laden
with some odd-looking bundle when going in,
which they invariably left behind on coming
out again, and many a whispered consultation
had been held as to what was probably going
on in there. Elsie and Carry seemed to be in
the secret, but only smiled and shook their
heads wisely when questioned.

But at length tea being over, and all, both
old and young, assembled as if by common con-
sent in the drawing-room, it began to be whis-
pered about that their curiosity was now on
the point of being gratified.

All were immediately on the qui vive, and
every face brightened with mirth and expec-
tation; and when, a moment after, the doors
were thrown open, there was a universal burst
of applause.

A large Christmas-tree had been set up at
the further end of the room, and, with its

376 ELSIE DINSMORE

myriad of lighted tapers, and its load of toys
and bonbons, interspersed with many a richer
and more costly gift, made quite a dislpay.

"Beautiful! beautiful !" cried the children,
clapping their hands and dancing about with
delight, while their elders, perhaps equally
pleased, expressed their admiration after a
more staid and sober fashion. When they
thought their handiwork had been sufficiently
admired, Mrs. Dinsmore and Adelaide ap-
proached the tree and began the pleasant task
of distributing the gifts.

Everything was labeled, and each, as his or
her name was called out, stepped forward to
receive the present.

]STo one had been forgotten ; each had some-
thing, and almost everyone had several pretty
presents. Mary Leslie and little Flora Arndt
were made perfectly happy with wax dolls that
could open and shut their eyes ; Caroline How-
ard received a gold chain from her mamma,
and a pretty pin from Elsie; Lucy, a set of
coral ornaments, besides several smaller pres-
ents; and others were equally fortunate. All
was mirth and hilarity ; only one clouded face
to be seen, and that belonged to Enna, who was
pouting in a corner because Mary Leslie's doll
was a little larger than hers.

Elsie had already received a pretty brace-

ELSIE DINSMORE 377

let from her Aunt Adelaide, a needle-case from
Lora, and several little gifts from her young
guests, and was just beginning to wonder
what had become of her papa's promised pres-
ent, when she heard her name again, and Ade-
laide, turning to her with a pleased look,
slipped a most beautiful diamond ring on her
finger.

"From your papa," she said. "Go and
thank him ; it is well worth it."

Elsie sought him out where he stood alone in
a corner, an amused spectator of the merry
scene.

"See, papa," she said, holding up her hand.
"I think it very beautiful; thank you, dear
papa, thank you very much."

"Does it please you, my darling?" he asked,
stooping to press a kiss on the little upturned
face, so bright and happy.

"Yes, papa, I think it is lovely! the very
prettiest ring I ever saw."

"Yet I think there is something else you
would have liked better, is there not?" he
asked, looking searchingly into her face.

"Dear papa, I like it very much; I would
rather have it than anything else on the tree."

"Still you have not answered my question,"
he said, with a smile, as he sat down and drew
her to his side, adding in a playful tone,

378 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Come, I am not going to put up with any
evasion; tell me truly if you would have pre-
ferred something else, and if so, what it is."

Elsie blushed and looked down ; then raising
her eyes, and seeing with what a tender, loving
glance he was regarding her, she took courage
to say, "Yes, papa, there is one thing I would
have liked better, and that is your miniature.' '

To her surprise he looked highly pleased at
her reply, and giving her another kiss, said,
"Well, darling, some day you shall have it."

"Mr. Horace Dinsmore," called Adelaide,
taking some small, glittering object from the
tree.

"Another present for me?" he asked, as
Walter came running with it.

He had already received several, from his
father and sisters, but none had seemed to give
him half the pleasure that this did when he
saw that it was labeled, "From his little
daughter."

It was only a gold pencil. The miniature —
with which the artist had succeeded so well
that nothing could have been prettier except
the original herself — she had reserved to be
given in another way.

"Do you like it, papa?" she asked, her face
glowing with delight to see how pleased he
was.

-* ELSIE DINSMORE 379

' 'Yes, darling, very much; and I shall al-
ways think of my little girl when I use it."

"Keep it in your pocket, and use it every
day, won't you, papa?"

"Yes, my pet, I will; but I thought you said
you had no present for me?"

"Oh ! no, no, papa ; I said there was none for
you amongst those bundles. I had bought this,
but had given it to Aunt Adelaide to take care
of, for fear you might happen to see it."

"Ah! that was it, eh?" and he laughed and
stroked her hair.

"Here, Elsie, here is your bundle of candy,"
said Walter, running up to them again. "Ev-
erybody has one, and that is yours, Adelaide
says."

He put it in her hand, and ran away again.
Elsie looked up in her father's face inquir-
ingly.

"]STo, darling," he said, taking the paper
from her hand and examining its contents,
"not to-night; to-morrow, after breakfast, you
may eat the cream-candy and the rock but
none of the others; they are colored, and very
unwholesome."

"Won't you eat some, papa?" she asked
with winning sweetness.

"No, dearest," he said; "for though I, too,

380 ELSIE DINSMORE

am fond of sweet things, I will not eat them
while I refuse them to you."

"Do, papa," she urged, "it would give me
pleasure to see you enjoying it."

"No, darling, / will wait until to-morrow,
too."

"Then please keep it for me until to-mor-
row, papa, will you?"

. "Yes," he said, putting it in his pocket; and
then, as the gifts had all been distributed, and
the little folks were in high glee, a variety of
sports were commenced by them; in which
some of their elders also took a part ; and thus
the hours sped away so rapidly that Elsie was
very much surprised when her father called
her to go to bed.

"Is it half -past nine already, papa?" she
asked.

"It is ten, my dear child, and high time you
were in bed," he said, smiling at her look of
astonishment. "I hope you have enjoyed
yourself."

"Oh! so much papa. Good-night, and
thank you for letting me stay up so long."

CHAPTER XV.

"Ask me not why I should love her; —

Look upon those soulful eyes !
Look while mirth or feeling moves her,

And see there how sweetly rise
Thoughts gay and gentle from a breast
Which is of innocence the nest —
Which, though each joy were from it shred,
By truth would still be tenanted !"

— Hoffman's Poems,

It was yet dark when Elsie awoke, but, hear-
ing the clock strike five, she knew it was
morning. She lay still a little while, and then,
slipping softly out of bed, put her feet into her
slippers, threw her warm dressing-gown
around her, and feeling for a little package
she had left on her toilet-table, she secured it
and stole noiselessly from the room.

All was darkness and silence in the house,
but she had no thought of fear; and, gliding
gently down the hall to her papa's door, she
turned the handle very cautiously, when, to
her great delight, she found it had been left
unfastened, and yielded readily to her touch.

She entered as quietly as a little mouse, lis-
tened for a moment until satisfied from his

381

382 ELSIE DINSMORE

breathing that her father was still sound
asleep, then, stepping softly across the room,
she laid her package down where he could not
fail to see it as soon as daylight came and his
eyes were opened. This accomplished, she
stole back again as noiselessly as she had
come.

"Who dat?" demanded Chloe, starting up
in bed as Elsie reentered her own apartment.

"It is only I ; did I frighten you, mammy?"
answered the little girl with a merry laugh.

"Ki! chile, dat you? what you doin' ramnin '
'bout de house all in de dark, cold night V

"It isn't night, mammy; I heard it strike
five some time ago. ' '

"Well, den, dis chile gwine get right up an*
make de fire. But jes you creep back into de
bed, darlin,, 'fore you cotch vour death ob
cold."

"I will, mammy," Elsie said, doing as she
was desired; "but please dress me as soon as
the room is warm enough, won't you?"

"Yes, darlin', kase ob course I knows you
want to be up early o' Christmas mornin'.
Ki! Miss Elsie, dat's a beautiful shawl you
gave your ole mammy. I shan't feel de cold
at all dis winter."

I hope not, mammy; and were Aunt Phil-

u

ELSIE DINSMORE 383

lis, and Uncle Jack, and all the rest pleased
with their presents ? ' '

"I reckon dey was, darlin,' mos' ready to
go off de handle, 'tirely. ' '

Chloe had soon built up her fire and coaxed
it into a bright blaze, and in a few moments
more she pronounced the room sufficiently
warm for her nursling to get up and be
dressed.

Elsie was impatient to go to her father ; but
even after she had been carefully dressed and
all her morning duties attended to, it was still
so early that Chloe advised her to wait a little
longer, assuring her that it was only a very
short time since John had gone in to make his
master's fire and supply him with hot water
for shaving.

So the little girl sat down and tried to drown
her impatience in the pages of a new book —
one of her Christmas presents. But Chloe
presently stole softly behind her chair, and,
holding up high above her head some glitter-
ing object attached to a pretty gold chain, let
it gradually descend until it rested upon the
open book.

Elsie started and jumped up with an excla-
mation of surprise.

"Wonder if you knows dat gen'leman, dar-
lin'?" laughed Chloe.

384 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Oh! it is papa," cried the little girl, catch-
ing it in her hand, "my own dear, darling
papa! oh! how good of him to give it to me!"
and she danced about the room in her delight.
"It is just himself, so exactly like him! Isn't
it a good likeness, mammy*?" she asked, draw-
ing near the light to examine it more closely,,
"Dear, dear, darling papa!" and she kissed it
again and again.

Then, gently drawing her mother's minia-
ture from her bosom, she laid them side by
side.

"My papa and mamma ; are they not beauti-
ful, mammy? both of them?" she asked, rais-
ing her swimming eyes to the dusky face lean-
ing over her, and gazing with such mournful
fondness at the sweet girlish countenance, so
life-like and beautiful, yet calling up thoughts
of sorrow and bereavement.

"My darling young missus!" murmured the
old nurse, "my own precious chile dat dese
arms hab carried so many years, dis ole heart
like to break wheneber I tinks ob you, an'
'members how your bright young face done
gone away forever." .

The big tears were rolling fast down the sa-
ble cheeks, and dropping like rain on Elsie's
curls, while the broad bosom heaved with sobs.
"But your ole mammy's been good to your lit-

ELSIE DINSMORE 385

tie chile dat you lef * behind, darling 'deed she
has," she went on.

"Yes, mammy, indeed, indeed you have,"
Elsie said, twining her arms lovingly around
her. "But don't let us cry any more, for we
know that dear mamma is very happy in heav-
en, and does not wish us to grieve for her now.
I shall not show you the picture any more if
it makes you cry like that," she added half
playfully.

"Not always, chile," Chloe said, wiping
away her tears, "but jes dis here mornm' —
Christmas mornm', when she was always so
bright and merry. It seems only yesterday
she went dancin' about jes' like you.'"

"Yes, mammy dear, but she is with the an-
gels now — my sweet, pretty mamma!" Elsie
whispered softly, with another tender, loving
look at the picture ere she returned it to its
accustomed resting place in her bosom.

"And now I must go to papa," she said
more cheerfully, "for it is almost breakfast
time."

"Is my darling satisfied notvf he asked, as
she ran into his arms and was folded in a close
embrace.

"Yes, papa, indeed I am! thank you a thou-
sand times ; it is all I wanted."

"And you have given me the most accept-

386 ELSIE DINSMORE

able present you could have found. It is a
most excellent likeness, and I am delighted
with it. "

"Iamso glad, papa, but it was Aunt Ade-
laide who thought of it."

"Ah! that was very kind of her. But how
does my little girl feel this morning, after all
her dissipation ?"

"Oh! very well, thank you, papa."

"You will not want to say any lesson to-day,
I suppose?"

"Oh! yes, if you please, papa, and it does
not give you too much trouble," she said. "It
is the very pleasantest hour in the day, ex-
cept "

"Well, except what? Ah, yes, I understand.
Well, my pet, it shall be as you wish ; but come
to me directly after breakfast, as I am going
out early."

Elsie had had her hour with her father, but
though he had left her and gone out, she still
lingered in his dressing-room, looking over the
next day's lesson. At length, however, she
closed the book and left the room, intending to
seek her young guests, who were in the lower
part of the house.

Miss Stevens' door was open as she passed,
and that lady called to her, "Elsie, dear, you

ELSIE DINSMORE 387

sweet little creature, come here, and see what
I have for you. ' '

Elsie obeyed, though rather reluctantly, and
Miss Stevens bidding her sit down, went to a
drawer, and took out a large paper of mixed
candy, all of the best and most expensive
kinds, which she put into the little girl's hands
with one of her sweetest smiles.

It was a strong temptation to a child who
had a great fondness for such things, but El-
sie had prayed from her heart that morning
for strength to resist temptation, and it was
given her.

' 'Thank you, ma'am, you are very kind,"
she said gratefully, "but I cannot take it, be-
cause papa does not approve of my eating
such things. He gave me a little this morn-
ing, but said I must not have any more for a
long time."

"Now, that is quite too bad," exclaimed
Miss Stevens, "but at least take one or two,
child; that much couldn't possibly hurt you,
and your papa need never know."

Elsie gave her a look of grieved surprise.

"Oh! could you think I would do that?" she
said. "But God would know, Miss Stevens;
and I should know myself, and how could I
ever look my papa in the face again after de-
ceiving him so?"

388 ELSIE DINSMORE

"Really, my dear, you are making a very se-
rious matter of a mere trifle," laughed the
lady; "why, I have deceived my father more
than fifty times, and never thought it any
harm. But here is something I am sure you
can take, and indeed you must, for I bought
both it and the candy expressly for you."

She replaced the candy in the drawer as she
spoke, and took from another a splendidly-
bound book which she laid in Elsie's lap, say-
ing, with a triumphant air, " There, my dear,
what do you think of that? is it not hand-
some?"

Elsie's eyes sparkled; books were her great-
est treasures ; but feeling an instinctive repug-
nance to taking a gift from one whom she
could neither respect nor love, she made an
effort to decline it, though at the same time
thanking the lady warmly for her kind inten-
tions.

But Miss Stevens would hear of no refusal,
and fairly forced it upon her acceptance, de-
claring that, as she had bought it expressly
for her, she should feel extremely hurt if she
did not take it.

"Then I will, Miss Stevens," said the little
girl, "and I am sure you are very kind. I
love books and pictures, too, and these are.

ELSIE DINSMORE 389

lovely engravings/ ' she added, turning over
the leaves with undisguised pleasure.

"Yes, and the stories are right pretty, too,"
remarked Miss Stevens.

"Yes, ma'am, they look as if they were, and
I should like dearly to read them."

"Well, dear, just sit down and read; there's
nothing to hinder. I'm sure your little friends
can do without you for an hour or two. Or,
if you prefer it, take the book and enjoy it
with them; it is your own, you know, to use
as you like."

"Thank you, ma'am; but, though I can look
at the pictures, I must not read the stories un-
til I have asked papa, because he does not al-
low me to read anything now without first
showing it to him."

"Dear me! how very strict he is!" ex-
claimed Miss Stevens.

"I wonder," she thought to herself, "if he
would expect to domineer over his wife in that
style?"

Elsie was slowly turning over the leaves of
the book, enjoying the pictures very much,
studying them intently, but resolutely refrain-
ing from even glancing over the printed pages.
But at length she closed it, and looking out of
the window, said, with a slight sigh, "Oh! I
wish papa would come; but I'm afraid he

390 ELSIE DINSMORE

won't for a long while, and I do so want to
read these stories."

"Suppose you let me read one to you," sug-
gested Miss Stevens; "that would not be your
reading it, you know."

Elsie looked shocked at the proposal. "Oh!
no, ma'am, thank you, I know you mean to be
kind ; but I could not do it ; it would be so very
wrong ; quite the same, I am sure, as if I read
it with my own eyes," she answered hurried-
ly; and then, fearing to be tempted further,
she excused herself and went in search of her
young companions.

She found them in the drawing-room.

"Wasn't it too provoking, Elsie, that those
people didn't send home my bracelet last
night?" exclaimed Caroline Howard. "I
have just been telling Lucy about it, I think
that it was such a shame for them to disap-
point me, for I wanted to have it on the tree."

"I am sorry you were disappointed, Carry,
but perhaps it will come to-day," Elsie an-
swered in a sympathizing tone. And then she
showed the new book which she still held in
her hand.

They spent some time in examining it, talk-
ing about and admiring the pictures, and then
went out for a walk.

ELSIE DINSMORE 391

"Has papa come in yet, mammy?" was El-
sie's first question on returning.

"Yes, darlin', I tink he's in the drawin'-
room this very minute," Chloe answered, as
she took off the little girl's hat, and carefully
smoothed her hair.

"There, there! mammy, won't that do now?
I'm in a little bit of a hurry," Elsie said with
a merry little laugh, as she slipped playfully
from under her nurse's hand, and ran down-
stairs.

But she was doomed to disappointment for
the present, for her papa was seated on the
sofa, beside Miss Stevens, talking to her ; and
so she must wait a little longer. At last, how-
ever, he rose, went to the other side of the
room, and stood a moment looking out of the
window.

Then Elsie hastened to take her book from a
table, where she had laid it, and going up to
him, said, "Papa!"

He turned round instantly, asking in a
pleasant tone, "Well, daughter, what is it?"

She put the book into his hand, saying
eagerly, "It is a Christmas gift from Miss
Stevens, papa; will you let me read it?"

He did not answer immediately, but turned
over the leaves, glancing rapidly over page

392 ELSIE DINSMORE

after page, but not too rapidly to be able to
form a pretty correct idea of the contents.

"No, daughter," he said, handing it back to
her, "you must content yourself with looking
at the pictures ; they are by far the best part ;
the stories are very unsuitable for a little girl
of your age, and would, indeed, be unprofit-
able reading for anyone."

She looked a little disappointed.

"I am glad I can trust my little daughter,
and feel certain that she will not disobey me,"
he said, smiling kindly on her, and patting her
cheek.

She answered him with a bright, happy
look, full of confiding affection, laid the book
away, without a murmur, and left the room —
her father's eyes followed her with a fond,
loving glance.

Miss Stevens, who had watched them both
closely during this little scene, bit her lips with
vexation at the result of her manoeuvre.

She had come to Roselands with the fixed
determination to lay siege to Mr. Horace Dins-
more 's heart, and flattering and petting his lit-
tle daughter was one of her modes of attack;
but his decided disapproval of her present,
she perceived, did not ausmr well for the suc-
cess of her schemes. She was by no means in
despair, however, for she had great confidence

ELSIE DINSMORE 393

in the power of her own personal attractions,
being really tolerably pretty, and considering
herself a great beauty, as well as very highly
accomplished.

As Elsie ran out into the hall, she found her-
self suddenly caught in Mr. Travilla's arms.

"A merry Christmas and a happy New
Year, little Elsie," he said, kissing her on both
cheeks. "Now I have caught you figuratively
and literally, my little lady, so what are you
going to give me, eh?"

"Indeed, sir, I think you've helped yourself
to the only thing I have to give at present,"
she answered with a merry silvery laugh.

"Nay, give me one, little lady," said he,
"one such hug and kiss as I dare say your
father gets half-a-dozen times in a day."

She gave it very heartily.

"Ah! I wish you were ten years older," he
said as he set her down.

"If I had been, you wouldn't have got the
kiss," she replied, smiling archly.

"Now, it's my turn," he said, taking some-
thing from his pocket.

"I expected you'd catch me, and so thought
it best to come prepared."

He took her hand, as he spoke, and placed a
beautiful little gold thimble on her finger.
"There, that's to encourage you in industry."

394 ELSIE DINSMORE

'Thank you, sir; oh! it's a little beauty! I
must run and show it to papa. But I must not
forget my politeness,' ' she added, hastily
throwing open the drawing-room door. "Come
in, Mr. Travilla."

She waited quietly until the usual greetings
were exchanged, then went up to her father
and showed her new gift.

He quite entered into her pleasure, and re-
marked, with a glance at Miss Stevens, that
"her friends were very kind."

The lady's hopes rose. He was then pleased
with her attention to his child, even though he
did not altogether approve her choice of a gift.

There was a large party to dinner that day,
and the children came down, to the dessert.
Miss Stevens, who had contrived to be seated
next to Mr. Dinsmore, made an effort, on the
entrance of the juveniles, to have Elsie placed
on her other side; but Mr. Travilla was too
quick for her, and had his young favorite on
his knee before she could gain her attention.

The lady was disappointed, and Elsie her-
self only half satisfied ; but the two gentlemen,
who thoroughly understood Miss Stevens and
saw through all her manoeuvres, exchanged
glances of amusement and satisfaction.

After dinner Mr. Travilla invited Elsie,
Carrv. Lucv. and Marv. to take a ride in his

ELSIE DINSMORE 395

(carriage, which invitation was joyfully ac-
cepted by all — Mr. Dinsmore giving a ready
consent to Elsie's request to be permitted to go.

They had a very merry time, for Mr.
Travilla quite laid himself out for their enter-
tainment, and no one knew better than he how
to amuse ladies of their age.

It was nearly dark when they returned, and
Elsie went at once to her room to be dressed
for the evening. But she found it unoccupied
— Aunt Chloe, as it afterward appeared,
having gone down to the quarters to carry
some of the little girl's gifts to one or two
who were too old and feeble to come up to the
house to receive them.

Elsie rang the bell, waited a little, and then,
feeling impatient to be dressed, ran down to
the kitchen to see what had become of her
nurse.

A very animated discussion was going on
there, just at that moment, between the cook
and two or three of her sable companions, and
the first words that reached the child's ears,
as she stood on the threshold, were, "I tell you,
you ole darkie, you donno numn' 'bout it!
Massa Horace gwine marry dot bit ob paint
an' finery! no such t'ing! Massa 's got more
sense."

The words were spoken in a most scornful

396 ELSIE DINSMOEE

tone, and Elsie, into whose childish mind the
possibility of her father's marrying again had
never entered, stood spellbound with astonish-
ment.

But the conversation went on, the speakers
quite unconscious of her vicinity.

It was Pompey's voice that replied:

"Ef Marse Horace don't like her, what for
they been gwine ridin' ebery afternoon? will
you tell me dab, darkies? an' don't dis niggah
see him sit beside her morm'n \ noon, an' night,
laughin' an' talkin' at de table an' in de
parlor? an' don't she keep a kissin' little Miss
Elsie, an' callin' her pretty critter, sweet
critter, an' de like?"

"She ma to our sweet little Miss Elsie ? Bah!
I tell you, Pomp, Marse Horace got more
sense," returned the cook, indignantly.

"Aunt Chloe don't b'lieve no such stuff,"
put in another voice; "she says Marse Horace
couldn't put such trash in her sweet young
mistis's place."

"Aunt Chloe 's a bery fine woman, no
doubt," observed Pomp, disdainfully, "but I
reckon Marse Horace ain't gwine to infide his
matermonical intentions to her ; and I consider
it quite consequential on Marster's being
voung and handsome that he will take another
wife-"

ELSIE DINSMORE 397

The next speaker said something about his
having lived a good while without, and, though
Miss Stevens was setting her cap, maybe he
wouldn't be caught. But Elsie only gathered
the sense of it, hardly heard the words, and,
bounding away like a frightened deer to her
own room, her little heart beating wildly with
a confused sense of suffering, she threw her-
self on the bed. She shed no tears, but there
was, oh! such a weight on her heart, such a
terrible though vague sense of the instability
of all earthly happiness.

There Chloe found her, and wondered much
what ailed her darling, what made her so
silent, and yet so restless, and caused such a
deep flush on her cheek. She feared she was
feverish, her little hand was so hot and dry;
but Elsie insisted that she was quite well, and
so Chloe tried to think it was only fatigue.

She would fain have persuaded the little
girl to lie still upon her bed and rest, and let
her tea be brought to her there ; but Elsie an-
swered that she would much rather be dressed,
and join her young companions in the nursery.
They, too, wondered what ailed her; she was
so very quiet and ate almost nothing at aU.
They asked if she was sick. She only shook
her head. "Was she tired, then?" "Yes, she

398 ELSIE DINSMORE

believed she was," and she leaned her head
wearily on her hand.

But, indeed, most of the party seemed dull ;
liiey had gone through such a round of pleas-
ure and excitement, for the last two or three
days, that now a reaction was beginning, and
they wanted rest, especially the very little
ones, who all retired quite early, when Elsie
and her mates joined their parents in the
drawing-room.

Elsie looked eagerly around for her father,
the moment she entered the room. He was
beside Miss Stevens, who was at the piano,
performing a very difficult piece of music. He
was leaning over her, turning the leaves, and
apparently listening with a great deal of
pleasure, for she was really a fine musician.

Elsie felt sick at heart at the sight — although
a few hours before it would have given her no
concern — and found it very difficult to listen
to and answer the remarks Mrs. Carrington
was making to her about her Christmas pres-
ents and the nice ride they had had that after-
noon.

Mr. Travilla was watching her; he had
noticed, as soon as she came in, the sad and
troubled look which had come over her face,
and, following the glance of her eyes, he
guessed at the cause.

ELSIE DINSMORE 399

He knew there was no danger of the trial
that she feared, and would have been glad to
tell her so ; but he felt that it was too delicate
a subject for him to venture on; it might seem
too much like meddling in Mv. Dinsmore's
affairs. But he did the next best thing — got
the four little girls into a corner, and tried to
entertain them with stories and charades.

Elsie seemed interested for a time, but every
now and then her eyes would wander to the
other side of the room, where her father still
stood listening to Miss Stevens' music.

At length Mr. Travilla was called away to
give his opinion about some tableaux the young
ladies were arranging; and Elsie, knowing it
was her usual time for retiring, and not caring
to avail herself of her father's permission to
stay up until nine o'clock, stole quietly away
to her room unobserved by anyone and
feeling as if Miss Stevens had already robbed
her of her father.

She wiped away a few quiet tears, as she
went, and was very silent and sad, while her
mammy was preparing her for bed. She
hardly knew how to do without her good-night
kiss, but feeling as she did, it had seemed quite
impossible to ask for it while Miss Stevens
was so near him.

When she knelt down to pray, she became

400 ELSIE DINSMORE

painfully conscious that a feeling of positive
dislike to that lady had been creeping into her
heart, and she asked earnestly to be enabled
to put it away. But she prayed, also, that she
might be spared the trial that she feared, if
God's will were so; and she thought surely it
was because she had found out that Miss
Stevens was not good, not truthful, or sincere.

"Perhaps dear papa will come to say good-
night before I am asleep," she murmured to
herself as, calmed and soothed by thus casting
her burden on the Lord, she laid her head upon
her pillow.

He, however, had become interested in the
subject of the tableaux, and did not miss his
little girl until the sound of the clock striking
ten reminded him of her, and he looked around
expecting to aee her still in the room ; but, not
seeing her, he asked Lucy Carrington where
she was.

"Oh!" said Lucy, "she's been gone these
two hours, I should think! I guess she must
have gone to bed."

"Strange that she did not come to bid me
good-night," he exclaimed, in a low tone, more
as if thinking aloud than speaking to Lucy«,

He hastily left the room.

Mr. Travilla followed.
( "Dinsmore," said he.

ELSIE DINSMORE 401

Mr. Dinsmore stopped, and Travilla, draw-
ing him to one side, said in an undertone, "I
think my little friend is in trouble to-night."

"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a startled look,
"what can it be? I did not hear of any acci-
dent— she has not been hurt? is not sick?-—
Tell me, Travilla, quickly, if anything ails my
child."

"Nothing, nothing, Dinsmore, only you
know servants will talk, and children have
ears, and eyes, too, sometimes, and I saw her
watching you to-night with a very sad ex-
pression."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore,
growing very red and looking extremely
vexed; "I wouldn't have had such thoughts
put into the child's head for any money. Are
you sure of it, Travilla?"

"I am sure she was watching you very
closely to-night, and looking very miserable."

"Poor darling!" murmured the father.
"Thank you, Travilla," shaking his friend
heartily by the hand. "Good-night; I shall
not be down again if you will be so good as
to excuse me to the others."

And he went up the stairs almost at a bound,
and the next moment was standing beside his
sleeping child, looking anxiously down at the
little flushed cheeks and tear-swollen eyes, for,

402 ELSIE DINSMORE

disappointed that he did not come to bid her
good-night, she had cried herself to sleep.

"Poor darling!" he murmured again, as he
stooped over her and kissed away a tear that
still trembled on her eyelash.

He longed to tell her that all her fears were
groundless, that none other could ever fill her
place in his heart, but he did not like to wake
her, and so, pressing another light kiss on her
cheek, he left her to dream on, unconscious of
his visit.