“I assure you, Adelaide, it would be exceedingly painful to my feelings,” he said, “and yet so anxious am I to subdue Elsie, and end this trying state of affairs, that were I certain of gaining my point, even by great severity, I would not hesitate a moment, but I am very doubtful whether she could be conquered in that way, and I would not like to undertake it unless I could carry it through.  I hinted at a boarding-school, which seemed to alarm her very much; but I shall not try it, at least not yet, for she is my only child, and I still love her too well to give her up to the tender mercies of strangers.  Ah! you don’t know how strongly I was tempted to give her a kiss, just now, when she begged so hard for it.  But what shall I do with her, Adelaide?—­have you no suggestion to make?”

“Indeed, I don’t know what to say, Horace; I shouldn’t like to give up to her, if I were you; it does seem as if you ought to conquer her, and if you don’t do it now, I do not believe you ever will.”

“Yes, that is just it,” he said.  “I have sometimes felt sorry for having begun the struggle, and yet perhaps it is just as well, since it must have come sooner or later.  Ten years hence I shall want to take her occasionally to the theatre or opera, or perhaps now and then to a ball, and unless I can eradicate these ridiculously strict notions she has got into her head, she will be sure to rebel then, when she will be rather too old to punish, at least in the same way in which I might punish her now.”

“A thought has just struck me, Horace,” said Adelaide suddenly.

“Well, what is it?” he asked.

Adelaide hesitated.  She felt some little sympathy for Elsie, and did not quite like to propose a measure which she knew would give her great pain; but at length she said, in a half-regretful tone—­

“I think, Horace, that Aunt Chloe upholds Elsie in her obstinacy, and makes her think herself a martyr to principle, for you know she has the same strange notions, which they both learned from the old housekeeper, Mrs. Murray, who was an old-fashioned Presbyterian, of the strictest sort; and now, as Elsie is still so young, it seems to me it might be possible to change her views, if she were entirely removed from all such influences.  But take notice, Horace, I do not advise it, for I know it would wellnigh break both their hearts.”

For a moment Mr. Dinsmore seemed lost in thought.  Then he spoke: 

“That is a wise suggestion, Adelaide.  I thank you for it, and shall certainly take it into consideration.  Yet it is a measure I feel loth to adopt, for Chloe has been a most faithful creature.  I feel that I owe her a debt of gratitude for the excellent care she has taken of Elsie, and of her mother before her, and as you say, I fear it would wellnigh break both their hearts.  But if less severe measures fail, I shall feel compelled to try it, for I am more anxious than I can tell you to bring Elsie to unconditional obedience.”