She paced up and down her favorite walk, weeping and sobbing bitterly.  Presently her attention was attracted by the galloping of a horse down the avenue, and raising her head, she saw that it was the physician, returning from a visit to her father.  It was not his usual hour for calling, and she at once conjectured that her father was worse.  Her first impulse was to hasten to him, but instantly came the recollection that he had banished her from his presence, and sinking down upon a bank, she burst into a fresh paroxysm of grief.  It was so hard—­so very hard—­to know that he was ill and suffering, and not to be permitted to go to him.

At length she could bear it no longer, and springing up she hurried into the house, and gliding softly up the stairs, stationed herself at her papa’s door, determined to intercept some one passing in or out, and inquire how he was.

She had not been long there when her Aunt Adelaide came out, looking troubled and anxious.

“Oh, Aunt Adelaide,” cried the child in a hoarse whisper, catching her by the dress, “dear Aunt Adelaide, do tell me, is papa worse?”

“Yes, Elsie,” she replied coldly, attempting to pass on; “he is much worse.”

The little girl burst into an agony of tears.

“You may well cry, Elsie,” remarked her aunt severely, “for it is all your fault, and if you are left an orphan, you may thank your own perverseness and obstinacy for it.”

Putting both hands over her face, with a low cry of anguish, Elsie fell forward in a deep swoon.

Adelaide caught her ere she had quite reached the floor, and hastily loosening her dress, looked anxiously around for help; but none was at hand, and she dared not call aloud lest she should alarm her brother.  So laying her gently down on the carpet, she went in search of Chloe, whom she found, as she had expected, in Elsie’s room.  In a few hurried words Adelaide made her understand what had occurred, and that Elsie must be removed without the slightest noise or disturbance.

Another moment and Chloe was at her darling’s side, and raising her gently in her strong arms, she bore her quickly to her room, and laying her on a couch, proceeded to apply restoratives, murmuring the while, in low, pitiful tones, “De dear, precious lamb! it mos’ breaks your ole mammy’s heart to see you dis way.”

It was long ere consciousness returned; so long that Adelaide, who stood by, gazing sorrowfully at the little wan face, and reproaching herself for her cruelty, trembled and grew pale with apprehension.

But at last, with a weary sigh, Elsie opened her eyes, and looked up, with a sad, bewildered expression, into the dusky face bent so anxiously over her, and then, with a feeling of intense relief, Adelaide slipped away to her own room, leaving them alone together.

“What is it, mammy?  Oh, I know!  I remember!  Oh, mammy, mammy! will my dear, precious papa die?” sobbed the poor little girl, throwing her arms around her nurse’s neck.