Mr. Dinsmore politely expressed his regret at Mrs. Allison’s illness, and his hope that their arrival would not be allowed to disturb her.

Miss Allison then left him to her brother’s care, and taking Elsie’s hand, led her to her own room.  It was a large, airy apartment, very prettily furnished, with another a little smaller opening into it.

“This is my room, Elsie,” said Miss Rose, “and that is Sophy’s.  You will sleep with her, and so I can take care of you both, for though Chloe can attend you morning and evening as usual, she will have to sleep in one of the servants’ rooms in the attic.”

She had been taking off Elsie’s bonnet, and smoothing her hair as she spoke, and now removing her own, she sat down on a low seat, and taking the little girl on her lap, folded her in her arms, and kissed her over and over again, saying softly, “My darling, darling child!  I cannot tell you how glad and thankful I am to have you in my arms once more.  I love you very dearly, little Elsie.”

Elsie was almost too glad to speak, but presently she whispered, “Not better than I love you, dear Miss Rose.  I love you next to papa.”

“And you are very happy now?”

“Very, very happy.  Do you like my papa, Miss Rose?”

“Very much, dear, so far,” Rose replied with simple truthfulness; “he seems to be a very polished gentleman, and I think is extremely handsome; but what is best of all, I can see he is a very fond father,” she added, bestowing another kiss upon the little rosy cheek.

“I am so glad!” exclaimed the little girl, her eyes sparkling with pleasure.  Then she added, in a deprecating tone, “But he doesn’t spoil me, Miss Rose; indeed he does not.  I always know I must obey, and promptly and cheerfully, too.”

“No, dearest, I did not think you had been spoiled; indeed, I doubt if it would be possible to spoil you,” Rose answered in a tone of fondness.

“Ah! you don’t know me, Miss Rose,” said Elsie, shaking her head.  “If papa were not very firm and decided with me, I know I should be very wilful sometimes, and he knows it, too; but he is too really kind to indulge me in naughtiness.  My dear, dear papa!  Miss Rose, I love him so much.”

“I am so glad for you, my poor little one,” murmured Rose, drawing the little girl closer to her.  “It seemed so sad and lonely for you, with neither father nor mother to love you.  And you were very ill last summer, darling? and very unhappy before that?  Your Aunt Adelaide wrote me all about it, and my heart ached for my poor darling; oh, how I longed to comfort her!”

“Yes, Miss Rose, that was a dreadful time; but papa only did what he thought was right, and you cannot think how kind he was when I was getting better.”  Elsie’s eyes were full of tears.

“I know it, darling, and I pitied him, too, and often prayed for you both,” said Rose.  “But tell me, dearest, was Jesus near to you in your troubles?”