They were all around her, talking and laughing in a very animated way, when Mr. Dinsmore came in, and going up to her couch, said, “Elsie, daughter, I have an errand to the city this morning; but, as I have promised to give you all you want of my company to-day, I will commission some one else to do it, if you are not willing to spare me for a couple of hours; do you think you could do without your papa that long?  It shall be just as you say.”

“You know I love dearly to have you by me, papa,” she answered, smiling up into his face; “but I will be quite satisfied with whatever you do, because you always know best.”

“Spoken like my own little girl,” he said, patting her cheek.  “Well, then I will leave these little folks to entertain you for a short time; and I think you will not be sorry, when I return, that you left it to me to do as I think best.  Kiss papa good-bye, darling.  Aunt Chloe, take good care of her, and don’t let her be fatigued with company.”

He turned to look at her again, as he reached the door, and Elsie gaily kissed her hand to him.

Before long, Chloe, seeing that her young charge was beginning to look weary, sent away all the little folks except Herbert, who, at Elsie’s request, remained with her, and seated in her little rocking-chair, close by her side, did his best to amuse her and make her forget her pain, sometimes reading aloud to her, and sometimes stopping to talk.

Many an hour Elsie had spent by his couch of suffering, reading, talking or singing to him, and he rejoiced now in the opportunity afforded him to return some of her past kindness.

They had always been fond of each other’s society, too, and the time passed so quickly and pleasantly that Mr. Dinsmore’s return, only a very little sooner than he had promised, took them quite by surprise.

Herbert noticed that he had a bundle in his hand, and thinking it was probably some present for Elsie, and that they might like to be alone, slipped quietly away to his mamma’s room.

“What is that, papa?” Elsie asked.

“A New Year’s gift for my little girl,” he answered, with a smile, as he laid it down by her side.  “But I know you are tired lying there; so I will take you on my knee, and then you shall open it.”

She looked quite as eager and interested as he could have wished, as he settled her comfortably on his knee, and laid the bundle in her lap.  Her hands trembled with excitement and haste, as she untied the string, and with an exclamation of joyful surprise, brought to light a large and very beautiful wax doll.

“Oh, papa, how pretty!” she cried, in ecstasy.  “And it is as large as a real, live baby, and has such a sweet, dear little face, and such pretty little hands, just like a real baby’s—­and the dearest little toes, too,” she added, kissing them.  “I love it already, the little dear! and how prettily it is dressed, too, like a little baby-girl.”