Elsie had gazed on all with a yearning heart, and eyes constantly swimming in tears.  “Ah! mammy,” she exclaimed more than once, “what a lovely, lovely home! how happy we might be here!”

The sight of her father’s rooms and her own affected her the most, and the tears fell fast as she passed slowly from one to another.  Her own little sitting-room was the last; and here sinking down in an easy-chair, she gazed about her silently and tearfully.  On one side the windows looked out upon a beautiful flower-garden, while beyond were hills and woods; on the other, glass doors opened out upon a grassy lawn, shaded by large trees, and beyond, far away in the distance, rolled the blue sea; all around her she saw the evidences of a father’s thoughtful love; a beautiful piano, a harp, a small work-table, well furnished with every requisite; books, drawing materials—­everything to give pleasure and employment; while luxurious couches and easy-chairs invited to rest and repose.  Several rare pictures, too, adorned the walls.

Elsie was very fond of paintings, and when she had gazed her fill upon the lovely landscape without, she turned from one of these to another with interest and pleasure; but one was covered, and she was in the act of raising her hand to draw aside the curtain, when her nurse stopped her, saying, “Not now, darlin’, try de piano first.”

She opened the instrument as she spoke, and Elsie, running her fingers over the keys, remarked that it was the sweetest-toned she had ever heard.

Chloe begged her to play, urging her request on the plea that it was so very long since she had heard her, and she might not have another opportunity soon.

Just at that instant a little bird on a tree near the door poured forth his joy in a gush of glad melody, and Elsie, again running her fingers lightly over the keys, sang with touching sweetness and pathos—­

“Ye banks an’ braes o’ bonny Doon,
How can ye look sae bright an’ fair? 
How can you sing, ye little bird,
An’ I sae weary, full of care?” etc.

The words seemed to come from her very heart, and her voice, though sweet and clear, was full of tears.

Chloe sobbed aloud, and Elsie, looking lovingly at her, said softly, “Don’t, dear mammy!  I will sing a better one;” and she played and sang—­

“He doeth all things well.”

Then rising, she closed the instrument, saying, “Now, mammy, let me see the picture.”

Chloe then drew aside the curtain; and Elsie, with clasped hands and streaming eyes, stood for many minutes gazing upon a life-sized and speaking portrait of her father.

“Papa! papa!” she sobbed, “my own darling, precious papa!  Oh! could you but know how dearly your little Elsie loves you!”

“Don’t now, darlin’! don’t take on so dreadful!  It jes breaks your ole mammy’s heart to see her chile so ’stressed,” Chloe said, passing her arm around the little girl’s waist, and laying her head on her bosom.