How great, then, was her surprise to see him, as she entered, hold out his hand with a smile, saying, in the kindest tone, “Come here to me, my daughter!”

She obeyed, gazing wonderingly into his face.

He drew her to him; lifted her to his knee; folded her in his arms, and kissed her tenderly.  He had not bestowed such a loving caress upon her—­nor indeed ever kissed her at all, excepting on the evening after Chloe’s departure—­since that unhappy scene in his sick-room; and Elsie, scarcely able to believe she was awake, and not dreaming, hid her face on his breast, and wept for joy.

“Your aunt has been here telling me what passed between you this afternoon,” said he, repeating his caress, “and I am much pleased with this proof of your obedience; and as a reward I will give you permission, not only to read the letter she offered you, but also the one I retained.  And I will allow you to write to Miss Allison once, in answer to them, the letter passing through my hands.  I have also promised, at your aunt’s solicitation, to remove some of the restrictions I have placed upon you, and I now give you the same liberty to go about the house and grounds which you formerly enjoyed.  Your books and toys shall also be returned to you, and you may take your meals with the family whenever you choose.”

“Thank you, papa, you are very kind,” replied the little girl; but her heart sank, for she understood from his words that she was not restored to favor as she had for a moment fondly imagined.

Neither spoke again for some moments.  Each felt that this delightful reunion—­for it was delightful to both—­this enjoyment of the interchange of mutual affection, could not last.

Silent caresses, mingled with sobs and tears on Elsie’s part, passed between them; and at length Mr. Dinsmore said, “Elsie, my daughter, I hope you are now ready to make the confession and promises I require?”

“Oh, papa! dear papa!” she said, looking up into his face with the tears streaming down her own, “have I not been punished enough for that? and can you not just punish me whenever I disobey you, without requiring any promise?”

“Stubborn yet, Elsie,” he answered with a frown.  “No; as I have told you before, my word is as the law of the Medes and Persians, which altered not.  I have required the confession and promise, and you must make them.”

He set her down, but she lingered a moment.  “Once more, Elsie, I ask you,” he said, “will you obey?”

She shook her head; she could not speak.

“Then go,” said her father.  “I have given you the last caress I ever shall, until you submit.”

He put the letters into her hand as he spoke, and motioned her to be gone; and Elsie fled away to her own room, to throw herself upon the bed, and weep and groan in intense mental anguish.

She cared not for the letters now; they lay neglected on the floor, where they had fallen unheeded from her hand.  The gloom on her pathway seemed all the darker for that bright but momentary gleam of sunshine.  So dark was the cloud that overshadowed her that for the time she seemed to have lost all hope, and to be able to think of nothing but the apparent impossibility of ever regaining her place in her father’s heart.  His last words rang in her ears.