Elsie dearly loved the twilight hour, and it was one of her greatest pleasures to climb upon her father’s knee and sit there talking or singing, or perhaps, oftener, just laying her head down on his breast and watching the play of the fire-light on the carpet, or the leaping of the flame hither and thither.

Mr. Dinsmore sat leaning back in his chair, apparently in deep thought, and did not hear Elsie’s light step.

She paused for one instant in the doorway, casting a wistful, longing look at him, then, with a little sigh, walked softly to the other side of the fire-place, and seated herself in her little rocking-chair.

For several minutes she sat very quietly gazing into the fire, her little face wearing a very sober, thoughtful look.  But she was startled out of her reverie by the sound of her father’s voice.

“Why am I not to have my little girl on my knee to-night?” he was asking.

She rose instantly, in a quick, eager way, and ran to him.

“If you prefer the rocking-chair, stay there, by all means,” he said.

But she had already climbed to her accustomed seat, and, twining her arms around his neck, she laid her cheek to his, saying, “No, indeed, papa; you know I don’t like the rocking-chair half so well as your knee; so please let me stay here.”

“Why did you not come at first, then?” he asked in a playful tone.

“Because I was afraid, papa,” she whispered,

“Afraid!” he repeated, with an accent of surprise, and looking as if he felt a little hurt.

“Yes, papa,” she answered in a low tone, “because I have been so very naughty this afternoon that I know I don’t deserve to come.”

“Did you not hear me say I forgave you?” he asked.

“Yes, papa.”

“Very well, then, if you are forgiven you are taken back into favor, just as if you had not transgressed; and if you had quite believed me, you would have come to me at once, and claimed a daughter’s privilege, as usual,” he said very gravely.

“I do believe you, papa; I know you always speak the truth and mean just what you say,” she replied in half-tearful tones, “but I know I don’t deserve a place on your knee to-night.”

“What you deserve is not the question at present; we are talking about what you can have, whether you deserve it or not.

“Ah!” he continued in a low, musing tone, more as if thinking aloud than speaking to her, “just so it is with us all in reference to our Heavenly Father’s forgiveness; when he offers us a full and free pardon of all our offences, and adoption into his family, we don’t more than half believe him, but still go about groaning under the burden of our sins, and afraid to claim the privileges of children.

“It hurts and displeases me when my child doubts my word, and yet how often I dishonor my Father by doubting his.  ’He that believeth not God, maketh him a liar.’  ‘Without faith it is impossible to please him.’”