“Strange!” he muttered, “that she is so hard to conquer.  I never imagined that she could be so stubborn.  One thing is certain,” he added, heaving a deep sigh; “we must separate for a time, or I shall be in danger of yielding; for it is no easy matter to resist her tearful pleadings, backed as they are by the yearning affection of my own heart.  How I love the perverse little thing!  Truly she has wound herself around my very heart-strings.  But I must get these absurd notions out of her head, or I shall never have any comfort with her; and if I yield now, I may as well just give that up entirely; besides, I have said it; and I will have her to understand that my word is law.”

And with another heavy sigh he threw himself upon the sofa, where he lay in deep thought for some moments; then, suddenly springing up, he rang the bell for his servant.

“John,” he said, as the man appeared in answer to his summons, “I shall leave for the North to-morrow morning.  See that my trunk is packed, and everything in readiness.  You are to go with me, of course.”

“Yes, Massa, I’ll ’tend to it,” replied John, bowing, and retiring with a grin of satisfaction on his face.  “Berry glad,” he chuckled to himself, as he hurried away to tell the news in the kitchen, “berry glad dat young Massa’s got tired ob dis dull ole place at last.  Wonder if little Miss Elsie gwine along.”

Elsie rose the next morning feeling very weak, and looking pale and sad:  and not caring to avail herself of her father’s permission to join the family, she took her breakfast in her own room, as usual.  She was on her way to the school-room soon afterwards, when, seeing her papa’s man carrying out his trunk, she stopped and inquired in a tone of alarm—­

“Why, John! is papa going away?”

“Yes, Miss Elsie; but ain’t you gwine along?  I s’posed you was.”

“No, John,” she answered faintly, leaning against the wall for support; “but where is papa going?”

“Up North, Miss Elsie; dunno no more ’bout it; better ask Massa Horace hisself,” replied the servant, looking compassionately at her pale face, and eyes brimful of tears.

Mr. Dinsmore himself appeared at this moment, and Elsie, starting forward with clasped hands, and the tears running down her cheeks, looked piteously up into his face, exclaiming, “Oh, papa, dear are you going away, and without me?”

Without replying, he took her by the hand, and turning back into his room again, shut the door, sat down, and lifted her to his knee.  His face was very pale and sad, too, but withal wore an expression of firm determination.

Elsie laid her head on his shoulder, and sobbed out her tears and entreaties that he would not leave her.

“It depends entirely upon yourself, Elsie,” he said presently.  “I gave you warning some time since that I would not keep a rebellious child in my sight; and while you continue such, either you or I must be banished from home, and I prefer to exile myself rather than you; but a submissive child I will not leave.  It is not yet too late; you have only to yield to my requirements, and I will stay at home, or delay my journey for a few days, and take you with me.  But if you prefer separation from me to giving up your own self-will, you have no one to blame but yourself.”