As Elsie laid her head on her pillow that night, she said to herself that it had been a very pleasant day, and she could be quite willing to live at Elmgrove, were it not for the thought of her own dear home in the “sunny South.”

The next morning her father told her they would be there for several weeks, and that he would expect her to practise an hour every morning—­Miss Rose having kindly offered the use of her piano—­and every afternoon to read for an hour with him; but all the rest of the day she might have to herself, to spend just as she pleased; only, of course, she must manage to take sufficient exercise, and not get into any mischief.

Elsie was delighted with the arrangement, and ran off at once to tell Sophy the good news.

“Oh!  I am ever so glad you are going to stay!” exclaimed Sophy joyfully.  “But why need your papa make you say lessons at all?  I think he might just as well let you play all the time.”

“No,” replied Elsie, “papa says I will enjoy my play a great deal better for doing a little work first, and I know it is so.  Indeed, I always find papa knows best.”

“Oh, Elsie!” Sophy exclaimed, as if struck with a bright thought, “I’ll tell you what we can do! let us learn some duets together.”

“Yes, that’s a good thought,” said Elsie; “so we will.”

“And perhaps Sophy would like to join us in our reading, too,” said Mr. Dinsmore’s voice behind them.

Both little girls turned round with an exclamation of surprise, and Elsie, taking hold of his hand, looked up lovingly into his face, saying, “Oh, thank you, papa; that will be so pleasant.”

He held out his other hand to Sophy, asking, with a smile, “Will you come, my dear?”

“If you won’t ask me any questions,” she answered a little bashfully.

“Sophy is afraid of you, papa,” whispered Elsie with an arch glance at her friend’s blushing face.

“And are not you, too?” he asked, pinching her cheek.

“Not a bit, papa, except when I’ve been naughty,” she said, laying her cheek lovingly against his hand.

He bent down and kissed her with a very gratified look.  Then patting Sophy’s head, said pleasantly, “You needn’t be afraid of the questions, Sophy; I will make Elsie answer them all.”

Elsie and her papa stayed for nearly two months at Elmgrove, and her life there agreed so well with the little girl that she became as strong, healthy and rosy as she had ever been.  She and Sophy and Harold spent the greater part of almost every day in the open air—­working in the garden, racing about the grounds, taking long walks in search of wild flowers, hunting eggs in the barn, or building baby-houses and making tea-parties in the shade of the trees down by the brook.

There was a district school-house not very far from Elmgrove, and in their rambles the children had made acquaintance with two or three of the scholars—­nice, quiet little girls—­who, after a while, got into the habit of bringing their dinner-baskets to the rendezvous by the brook-side, and spending their noon-recess with Elsie and Sophy; the dinner hour at Mr. Allison’s being somewhat later in the day.