“I cannot tell you how very much I should like it, dear Mrs. Travilla, but it is quite impossible,” Elsie answered, with a sorrowful shake of the head.  “I am not allowed to pay or receive visits any more; papa forbade it some time ago.”

“Ah, indeed!  I am very sorry, dear, for I fear that cuts me off from visiting you,” said Mrs. Travilla, looking much disappointed.  “However,” she added more cheerfully, “I will get my son to write to your papa, and perhaps he may give you permission to visit us.”

“No, ma’am, I cannot hope that he will,” replied Elsie sadly; “papa never breaks his word or changes his mind.”

“Ah! well, dear child,” said her friend tenderly, “there is one precious blessing of which no one can deprive you—­the presence and love of your Saviour; and if you have that, no one can make you wholly miserable.  And now, dear child, I must go,” she added, again clasping the little girl to her heart, and kissing her many times.  “God bless and keep you, darling, till we meet again, and we will hope that time will come ere long.”

Mr. Travilla was waiting to hand his mother into the carriage.

Neither of them spoke until they had fairly left Roselands behind them, but then he turned to her with an anxious, inquiring look, to which she replied: 

“Yes, I found her in just the state you described, poor darling! but I think I left her a little happier; or rather, I should say, a little less wretched than I found her.  Edward, Horace Dinsmore does not know what he is doing; that child’s heart is breaking.”

He gave an assenting nod, and turned away to hide his emotion.

“Can you not write to him, Edward, and describe the state she is in, and beg him, if he will not come home, at least to permit us to take her to Ion for a few weeks?” she asked, laying her hand on his arm.

“I will do so, mother, if you think it best,” Mr. Travilla replied; “but I think I know Horace Dinsmore better than you do, and that such a proceeding would do more harm than good.  He is very jealous of anything that looks like interference, especially between him and his child, and I fear it would only irritate him, and make him, if possible, still more determined.  Were I asked to describe his character in a few words, I should say he is a man of indomitable will.”

“Well, my son, perhaps you are right,” said his mother, heaving a deep sigh; “and if so, I can see nothing more we can do but pray for the little girl.”

Mrs. Travilla was right in thinking that her visit had done Elsie good; it had roused her out of the torpor of grief into which she had sunk; it had raised her from the depths of despair, and shown her the beacon light of hope still shining in the distance.

This last blow had come with such crushing weight that there had seemed to be no room left in her heart for a thought of comfort; but now her kind friend had reminded her of the precious promises, and the tender love that were still hers; love far exceeding that of any earthly parent—­love that was able even to bring light out of all this thick darkness; love which was guiding and controlling all the events of her life, and would never allow her to suffer one unnecessary pang, but would remove the trial as soon as its needed work was done; and she was now no longer altogether comfortless.