“I am not hungry, papa,” she replied.  “Please let me stay and wait on you.  Won’t you have something to eat?”

“No, my dear, I have no desire for food; and you see, Chloe is coming to take care of me; so I wish you to go down at once,” he said in his decided tone, and Elsie instantly rose to obey.

“You may come back if you choose when you have eaten your dinner,” he added kindly.  “I love to have you here.”

“Thank you, papa, I will,” she answered, with a brightened countenance, as she left the room.  She was soon in her place again by his side.  He was sleeping—­and taking the fan from Chloe’s hand without speaking, she motioned her away, and resuming her seat, sat for an hour or more, fanning him in perfect silence.

The physician had come while the family were at dinner, and leaving some medicine, had gone again, saying he was in haste to visit another patient; and assuring Elsie, whom he met in the hall as he was going out, that he did not think her papa was going to be very ill.  This assurance had comforted her very much, and she felt quite happy while sitting there watching her father’s slumbers.

At length he opened his eyes, and smiling fondly on her, asked:  “Does not my little girl want some play this afternoon?  Your little hand must surely be very tired wielding that fan;” and taking it from her, he drew her head down to his breast and stroked her hair caressingly.

“No, my own papa, I would much rather stay with you, if you will let me,” she answered eagerly.

“I am afraid I ought to be very determined, and send you out to take some exercise,” he replied, playfully running his fingers through her curls; “but it is too pleasant to have you here, so you may stay if you like.”

“Oh, thank you, dear papa! and will you let me wait on you?  What can I do for you now?”

“You may bring that book that lies on the table there, and read to me.  You need not learn any lessons for to-morrow, for I intend to keep you with me.”

The next day, and the next, and for many succeeding ones, Mr. Dinsmore was quite too ill to leave his bed, and during all this time Elsie was his constant companion by day—­except for an hour every afternoon, when he compelled her to go out and take some exercise in the open air—­and she would have sat by his side at night, also, but he would by no means permit it.

“No, Elsie,” he replied to her repeated entreaties, “you must go to bed every night at your usual hour, and stay there until your accustomed hour for rising.  I will not have you deprived of your rest unless I am actually dying.”