Mrs. Travilla’s tears were falling very fast, and it was a moment ere she could command her voice to reply.

“My precious, precious child,” she said, “He is able to save to the uttermost.  ‘The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.’  He will wash you in that precious fountain opened for sin, and for all uncleanness.  He will clothe you with the robe of his own righteousness, and present you faultless before the throne of God, without spot or wrinkle, or any such thing. He has said it, and shall it not come to pass, my darling?  Yes, dear child, I am confident of this very thing, that he who has begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, yes, he will, I know he will.  Precious Jesus! my Saviour,” murmured the little one, a smile of heavenly peace and joy overspreading her features; and, closing:  her eyes, she seemed to sleep, while Adelaide, unable longer to control her feelings, stole softly from the room, to seek a place where she might weep without restraint.

An hour later Adelaide sat alone by the bedside, Mrs. Travilla having found it necessary to return to Ion for a few hours, while Chloe had gone down to the kitchen to see to the preparation of some new delicacy with which she hoped to tempt Elsie’s failing appetite.

Adelaide had been sitting for some moments gazing sadly at the little pale, thin face, so fair, so sad, yet so full of meekness and resignation.  Her eyes filled as she looked, and thought of all that they feared.

“Elsie, darling! precious little one,” she murmured in low, tremulous tones, as she leant over the child in tender solicitude.

“Dear Aunt Adelaide, how kind you are to me,” said the little girl, opening her eyes and looking up lovingly into her aunt’s face.

There was a sound of carriage-wheels.

“Is it my papa?” asked Elsie, starting and trembling.

Adelaide sprang to the window.  No, it was only a kind neighbor, come to inquire how the invalid was.

A look of keen disappointment passed over the expressive countenance of the little girl—­the white lids drooped over the soft eyes, and large tears stole from beneath the long dark lashes, and rolled silently down her cheeks.

“He will not come in time,” she whispered, as if talking to herself.  “Oh, papa, I want to hear you say you forgive all my naughtiness.  I want one kiss before I go.  Oh, take me in your arms, papa, and press me to your heart, and say you love me yet!”

Adelaide could bear it no longer; the mournful, pleading tones went to her very heart.  “Dear, dear child,” she cried, bending over her with streaming eyes, “he does love you!  I know it. You are the very idol of his heart; and you must not die.  Oh, darling, live for his sake, and for mine.  He will soon, be here, and then it will be all right; he will be so thankful that he has not lost you, that he will never allow you to be separated from him again.”