Immediately after tea the whole family adjourned to the sitting-room, the servants were called in, and Mr. Allison read a portion of Scripture and prayed; afterwards remarking to Mr. Dinsmore that it was his custom to attend to this duty early in the evening, that the younger children might have the benefit of it without being kept up too late.

Mr. Dinsmore expressed his approval, adding that it was his plan also.

“Papa,” whispered Elsie, who was close to him, “I am to sleep with Sophy.”

“Ah! that will be very pleasant for you,” he said, “but you must be a good girl, and not give any unnecessary trouble.”

“I will try, papa.  There, Sophy is calling me; may I go to her?”

“Certainly;” and he released her hand, which he had been holding in his.

“I want to show you my garden,” said Sophy, whom Elsie found in the hall; and she led the way out through a back door which opened into a garden now gay with spring flowers and early roses.

Sophy pointed out the corner which was her especial property, and exhibited her plants and flowers with a great deal of honest pride.

“I planted every one of them myself,” she said.  “Harold dug up the ground for me, and I did all the rest, I work an hour every morning pulling up the weeds and watering the flowers.”

“Oh? won’t you let me help you while I am here?” asked Elsie, eagerly.

“Why, yes, if you like, and your papa won’t mind I think it would be real fun.  But he’s very strict, isn’t he, Elsie?  I feel quite afraid of him.”

“Yes, he is strict, but he is very kind, too.”

“Let’s go in now,” said Sophy; “I’ve got a beautiful picture-book that I want to show you; and to-morrow’s Sunday, you know, so if you don’t see it to-night, you’ll have to wait till Monday, because it isn’t a Sunday book.”

“What time is it?” asked Elsie.  “I always have to go to bed at half-past eight.”

“I don’t know,” said Sophy, “but we’ll look at the clock in the dining-room,” and she ran in, closely followed by her little guest.

“Just eight! we’ve only got half an hour; so come along.  But won’t your papa let you stay up longer?”

“No,” Elsie answered in a very decided tone; and they hurried to the parlor, where they seated themselves in a corner, and were soon eagerly discussing the pictures in Sophy’s book.

They had just finished, and Sophy was beginning a very animated description of a child’s party she had attended a short time before, when Elsie, who had been anxiously watching her father for the last five minutes, saw him take out his watch and look at her.

“There, Sophy,” she said, rising, “I know papa means it is time for me to go to bed.”

“Oh, just wait one minute!”

But Elsie was already half way across the room.

“It is your bedtime, daughter,” said Mr. Dinsmore, smiling affectionately on her.