“Dear, pretty little thing!” she exclaimed, kissing it softly.  “How old is it, Miss Rose? and what is its name?”

“She is nearly a year old, and we call her Daisy.”

“I’m sure your arms must be getting tired, miss, for she’s quite heavy,” remarked the nurse presently, taking the child again.

Miss Rose now said it was time to go down-stairs, and left the room, followed by Elsie, Harold, and Sophy, the last-named putting her arm around Elsie’s waist, saying what a delightful time they would have together, and that she hoped she would stay all summer.

They had not quite reached the end of the hall when Elsie saw her father come out of the door of another room, and hastily releasing herself from Sophy’s arm, she ran to him, and catching hold of his hand, looked up eagerly into his face, saying, “Oh, papa, do come into the nursery and see the dear little children and the baby! it is so pretty.”

He looked inquiringly at Miss Allison.

“If you care to see it, Mr. Dinsmore,” she said, smiling, “there is no objection; we are very proud of our baby.”

“Then I should like to go,” he replied, “both to gratify Elsie and because I am fond of children.”

Rose led the way and they all went back to the nursery, where Mr. Dinsmore kissed the little folks all round, patted their heads and talked kindly to them, then took the babe in his arms, praising its beauty, and tossing it up till he made it laugh and crow right merrily.

“I often wish I had seen my baby,” he remarked to Rose, as he returned it to the nurse.  Then laying his hand on Elsie’s head, “Do you know, Miss Allison,” he asked, “that I never saw my little girl until she was nearly eight years old?”

“Yes,” she replied, “I knew her before you did, and sympathized strongly in her longing for a father’s love.”

“Ah! we both lost a good deal in those years, and if I could live them over again it should be very different,” he said, with a loving glance at his daughter’s face; “nothing should keep me from my child.  Though no doubt it has all been for the best,” he added, with a slight sigh, as he thought of the worldly wisdom he would have taught her.

They all now went down to the parlor, where Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie were introduced to Richard Allison, a wild boy full of fun and frolic, between Rose and Harold in age.

Edward was the eldest of the family, and quite sober and sedate.

Richard took a great fancy to Elsie from the first moment, and very soon had coaxed her out to the lawn, where he presently engaged her in a merry game of romps with Sophy, Harold, and himself, which was finally brought to a conclusion by the arrival of the elder Mr. Allison, almost immediately followed by the call to supper.

Mr. Allison had a pleasant face, and was a younger looking man than might have been expected in the father of such a family.  He welcomed his guests with the greatest cordiality, expressing the hope that they intended paying a long visit to Elmgrove, which he said they owed him in return for Rose’s lengthened sojourn at Roselands.