It was kind, yes, even affectionate, and in some parts tender.  But ah! it has brought no comfort to the little girl! else why does she finish with a burst of tears and sobs, and sinking upon her knees, hide her face in her hands, crying with a bitter, wailing cry, “Oh, papa! papa! papa!”

He told her of the estate he had purchased, and the improvements he had been making; of a suite of rooms he had had prepared and furnished expressly for her, close to his own apartments—­and of the pleasant home he hoped they would have there together, promising to dispense with a governess and teach her himself, for that he knew she would greatly prefer.

He drew a bright picture of the peaceful, happy life they might lead; but finished by telling her that the condition was entire, unconditional submission on her part, and the alternative a boarding-school, at a distance from home and friends.

He had, on separating her from her nurse, forbidden her to hold any communication with her, or even to ride in the direction of the Oaks—­as his estate was called—­and Elsie had scrupulously obeyed him; but now he bade her go and see the lovely home and beautiful apartments he had prepared for her, and judge for herself of the happiness she might enjoy there—­loved, and caressed, and taught by him—­and then decide.

“If she were ready to give up her wilfulness,” he wrote, “she might answer him immediately; and he would then return and their new home should receive them, and their new life begin at once.  But if she were still inclined to be stubborn and rebellious, she must take a month to consider, ere he would receive her reply.”

Ah! to little Elsie it was a most enchanting picture he had drawn.  To live in her father’s house—­his own home and hers—­to be his constant and loved companion—­to exchange Miss Day’s teaching for his—­to walk, to ride, to sit with him—­in a word, to live in the sunshine of his love—­oh, it would be paradise upon earth!

And then the alternative!  Oh, how dreadful seemed to the shrinking, sensitive child, the very thought of being sent away amongst entire strangers, who could not be expected to care for her, or love her; who would have no sympathy with her highest hopes and desires, and instead of assisting her to walk in the narrow way, would strive to turn her feet aside into the paths of worldly conformity and sin:  for, alas! she well knew it was only to the care of such persons her father would be likely to commit her, wishing, as he did, to root out of her mind what he was pleased to call the “narrow prejudices of her unfortunate early training.”  Poor child! she shrank from it in terror and dismay.

But should she choose that which her poor, hungry heart so yearned for—­the home with her father—­she must pledge herself to take as her rule of faith and practice, not God’s holy word, which had hitherto been her guide-book, but her father’s wishes and commands, which she well knew would often be entirely opposed to its teachings.