conversation with Mr. Carrington, and did not seem to be listening to them, Lucy ventured to whisper to Elsie, "I think it's real mean of him; he might let you go."
"No," replied Elsie, in the same low tone, "I'm sure papa knows best; and besides, I have been naughty, and don't deserve to go, though I should like to, dearly."
"Well, good-bye," said Lucy, giving her a kiss.
It was not until Mr. Carrington's carriage was fairly on its way down the avenue, that Mr. Dinsmore dropped his little girl's hand; and then he said, "I want you in the library, Elsie; come to me in half an hour."
"Yes, papa, I will," she replied, looking a little frightened.
"You need not be afraid," he said, in a tone of displeasure; "I am not going to hurt you."
Elsie blushed and hung her head, but made no reply, and he turned away and left her. She could not help wondering what he wanted with her, and though she tried not to feel afraid, it was impossible to keep from trembling a little as she knocked at the library door.
Her father's voice said, "Come in," and entering, she found him alone, seated at a table covered with papers and writing materials, while beside the account book in which he was writing lay a pile of money, in bank notes, and gold and silver.
"Here, Elsie," he said, laying down his pen, "I want to give you your month's allowance. Your grandfather has paid it to you heretofore, but of course, now that I am at home, I attend to everything that concerns you. You have been receiving eight dollars—I shall give you ten," and he counted out the money and laid it before her as he spoke; "but I shall require a strict account of all that you spend. I want you to learn to keep accounts, for if you live, you will some day have a great deal of money to take care of; and here is a blank book that I have prepared, so that you can do so very easily. Every time that you lay out or give away any money, you must set it down here as soon as you come home; be particular about that, lest you should forget something, because you must bring your book to me at the end of every month, and let me see how much you have spent, and what is the balance in hand; and if you are not able to make it come out square, and tell me what you have done with every penny, you will lose either the whole or a part of your allowance for the next month, according to the extent of your delinquency. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Let me see now how much you can remember of your last month's expenditures. Take the book and set down everything you can think of."
Elsie had a good memory, and was able to remember how she had spent almost every cent during the time specified; and she set down one item after another, and then added up the column without any mistake.
"That was very well done," said her father approvingly. And then running over the items half aloud, "Candy, half a dollar; remember, Elsie, there is to be no more money disposed of in that way; not as a matter of economy, by any means, but because I consider is very injurious. I am very anxious that you should grow up strong and healthy. I would not for anything have you a miserable dyspeptic."
Then suddenly closing the book and handing it to her, he said, inquiringly, "You were very anxious to go to Ashlands?"
"I would have liked to go, papa, if you had been willing," she replied meekly.
"I am afraid Lucy is not a suitable companion for you, Elsie. I think she puts bad notions into your head," he said very gravely.
Elsie flushed and trembled, and was just opening her lips to make her confession, when the door opened and her grandfather entered. She could not speak before him, and so remained silent.
"Does she not sometimes say naughty things to you?" asked her father, speaking so low that her grandfather could not have heard.
"Yes, sir," replied the little girl, almost under her breath.
"I thought so," said he, "and therefore I shall keep you apart as entirely as possible; and I hope there will be no murmuring on your part."
"No, papa, you know best," she answered, very humbly.
Then, putting the money into her hands, he dismissed her. When she had gone out he sat for a moment in deep thought. Elsie's list of articles bought with her last month's allowance consisted almost entirely of gifts for others, generally the servants. There were some beads and sewing-silk for making a purse, and a few drawing materials; but with the exception of the candy, she had bought nothing else for herself. This was what her father was thinking of.
"She is a dear, unselfish, generous little thing," he said to himself. "However, I may be mistaken; I must not allow myself to judge from only one month. She seems submissive, too,"—he had overheard what passed between her and Lucy at parting—"but perhaps that was for effect; she probably suspected I could hear her—and she thinks me a tyrant, and obeys from fear, not love."
This thought drove away all the tender feeling that had been creeping into his heart; and when he next met his little daughter, his manner was as cold and distant as ever, and Elsie found it impossible to approach him with sufficient freedom to tell him what was in her heart.
Chapter Fifth
"Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice
Triumphs."
—LONGFELLOW'S Evangeline.
"How disappointment tracks
The steps of hope!"
—MISS LANDON.
One afternoon, the next week after the Carringtons had left, the younger members of the family, Arthur, Elsie, Walter and Enna, were setting out to take a walk, when Elsie, seeing a gold chain depending from the pocket of Arthur's jacket, exclaimed:
"O Arthur! how could you take grandpa's watch? Do put it away, for you will be almost sure to injure it."
"Hold your tongue, Elsie; I'll do as I please," was the polite rejoinder.
"But, Arthur, you know that grandpa would never let you take it. I have often heard him say that it was very valuable, for it was seldom that so good a one could be had at any price; and I know that he paid a great deal for it."
"Well, if he prizes it so, he needn't have left it lying on his table, and so I'll just teach him a lesson; it's about time he learnt to be careful."
"O Arthur! do put it away," pleaded Elsie, "if anything should happen to it, what will grandpa say? I know he will be very angry, and ask us all who did it; and you know I cannot tell a lie, and if he asks me if it was you, I cannot say no."
"Yes, I'll trust you for telling tales," replied Arthur, sneeringly; "but if you do, I'll pay you for it."
He ran down the avenue as he spoke, Walter and Enna following, and Elsie slowly bringing up the rear, looking the picture of distress, for she knew not what to do, seeing that Arthur would not listen to her remonstrances, and, as often happened, all the older members of the family were out, and thus there was no authority that could be appealed to in time to prevent the mischief which she had every reason to fear would be done. Once she thought of turning back,
