Elsie laid her head against his breast, as was her wont before their unhappy estrangement, while he passed his hand caressingly over her curls.

“Speak, my daughter,” he said in a low tone, full of tenderness; “speak, and tell papa that he has his own dutiful little daughter again.  His heart aches to receive her; must he do without her still?”

The temptation to yield was very strong.  She loved him, oh, how dearly!  Could she bear to go on making him unhappy?  And it was such rest—­such joy—­thus once more to feel herself folded to his heart, and hear his dear voice speaking to her in loving, tender tones.  Can it be wondered at that for a moment Elsie wavered?  On the one hand she saw her father’s fond affection, indulgent kindness, and loving caresses; on the other, banishment from his love, perhaps from home, cold, stern, harsh words and looks; and what more might be meant by the very severe measures threatened, she trembled to think.

For a moment she was silent, for a mighty struggle was going on in her heart.  It was hard, very hard, to give up her father’s love.  But the love of Jesus!—­ah, that was more precious still!

The struggle was past.

“Papa,” she said, raising an earnest, tearful little face to his, and speaking in tones tremulous with emotion, “dear, dear papa, I do love you so very, very much, and I do want to be to you a good, obedient child; but, papa, Jesus says, ’He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me,’ and I must love Jesus best, and keep his commandments always.  But you bid me say that I am sorry I refused to break them; and that I will yield implicit obedience to you, even though you should command me to disobey him.  Oh, papa, I cannot do that, even though you should never love me again; even though you should put me to death.”

The cold, stern expression had returned to his face before she had half finished, and putting her off his knee, he said, in his severest tone, “Go, disobedient, rebellious child!  How often have I told you that you are too young to judge of such matters, and must leave all that to me, your father and natural guardian, whom the Bible itself commands you to obey.  I will find means to conquer you yet, Elsie.  If affection and mild measures will not do it, severity shall.”

He rose and walked hastily up and down the floor, excited and angry, while poor Elsie went weeping from the room.

“Is that one of your sisters, my dear?” asked the old gentleman of Enna, as he saw the sobbing Elsie pass through the hall, on her way up-stairs.

“No; that is brother Horace’s daughter,” replied Enna scornfully; “she is a real naughty girl, and won’t mind her papa at all.”

“Ah!” said the old gentleman gravely, “I am sorry to hear it; but I hope you will always obey your papa.”

“Indeed, my papa lets me do just as I please,” said Enna, with a little toss of her head. “I don’t have to mind anybody.”