papa! tell me about her! do, dear papa," she pleaded eagerly.
"I have not much to tell," he said, sighing. "I knew her only for a few short months ere we were torn asunder, never to meet again on earth."
"But we may hope to meet her in heaven, dear papa," said Elsie softly, "for she loved Jesus, and if we love Him we shall go there too when we die. Do you love Jesus, papa?" she timidly inquired, for she had seen him do a number of things which she knew to be wrong—such as riding out for pleasure on the Sabbath, reading secular newspapers, and engaging in worldly conversation—and she greatly feared he did not.
But instead of answering her question, he asked, "Do you, Elsie?"
"Oh! yes, sir; very very much; even better than I love you, my own dear papa."
"How do you know?" he asked, looking keenly into her face.
"Just as I know that I love you, papa, or any one else," she replied, lifting her eyes to his face in evident surprise at the strangeness of the question.
"Ah, papa," she added in her own sweet, simple way, "I do so love to talk of Jesus; to tell Him all my troubles, and ask Him to forgive my sins and make me holy; and then it is so sweet to know that He loves me, and will always love me, even if no one else does."
He kissed her very gravely, and set her down, saying, "Go now, my daughter, and prepare for dinner; it is almost time for the bell."
"You are not displeased, papa?" she inquired, looking up anxiously into his face.
"No, darling, not at all," he replied, stroking her hair. "Shall I ride with my little girl this afternoon?"
"Oh papa! do you really mean it? I shall be so glad!" she exclaimed joyfully.
"Very well, then," he said, "it is settled. But go now; there is the bell. No, stay!" he added quickly, as she turned to obey; "think a moment and tell me where you put the key of your desk yesterday, for it must have been then the mischief was done. Had you it with you when you rode out?"
Suddenly Elsie's face flushed, and she exclaimed Eagerly, "Ah! I remember now! I left it on the mantelpiece, papa, and—"
But here she paused, as if sorry she had said so much.
"And what?" he asked.
"I think I had better not say it, papa! I'm afraid I ought not, for I don't really know anything, and it seems so wrong to suspect people."
"You need not express any suspicions," said her father; "I do not wish you to do so; but I must insist upon having all the facts you can furnish me with. Was Aunt Chloe in your room all the time you were away?"
"No, sir; she told me she went down to the kitchen directly after I left, and did not come up again until after I returned."
"Very well; do you know whether any one else entered the room during your absence?"
"I do not know, papa, but I think Arthur must have been in, because when I came home I found him reading a book which I had left lying on the mantel-piece," she answered in a low, reluctant tone.
"Ah, ha! that is just it! I see it all now," he exclaimed, with a satisfied nod. "There, that will do, Elsie; go now and make haste down to your dinner."
But Elsie lingered, and, in answer to a look of kind inquiry from her father, said coaxingly, "Please, papa, don't be very angry with him. I think he did not know how much I cared about my book."
"You are very forgiving, Elsie; but go, child, I shall not abuse him," Mr. Dinsmore answered, with an imperative gesture, and the little girl hurried from the room.
It happened that just at this time the elder Mr. Dinsmore and his wife were paying a visit to some friends in the city, and thus Elsie's papa had been left head of the house for the time. Arthur, knowing this to be the state of affairs, and that though his father was expected to return that evening, his mother would be absent for some days, was beginning to be a good deal fearful of the consequences of his misconduct, and not without reason, for his brother's wrath was now fully aroused, and he was determined that the boy should not on this occasion escape the penalty of his misdeeds.
Arthur was already in the dining-room when Mr. Dinsmore came down.
"Arthur," said he, "I wish you to step into the library a moment; I have something to say to you."
"I don't want to hear it," muttered the boy, with a dogged look, and standing perfectly still.
"I dare say not, sir; but that makes no difference," replied his brother. "Walk into the library at once."
Arthur returned a scowl of defiance, muttering almost under his breath, "I'll do as I please about that;" but cowed by his brother's determined look and manner, he slowly and reluctantly obeyed.
"Now, sir," said Mr. Dinsmore, when he had him fairly in the room, and had closed the door behind them, "I wish to know how you came to meddle with Elsie's copy-book."
"I didn't," was the angry rejoinder.
"Take care, sir; I know all about it," said Mr. Dinsmore, in a warning tone; "it is useless for you to deny it. Yesterday, while Elsie was out and Aunt Chloe in the kitchen, you went to her room, took the key of her desk from the mantel-piece where she had left it, went to the school-room and did the mischief, hoping to get her into trouble thereby, and then relocking the desk and returning the key to its proper place, thought you had escaped detection; and I was very near giving my poor, innocent little girl the whipping you so richly deserve."
Arthur looked up in astonishment.
"Who told you?" he asked; "nobody saw me;" then, catching himself, said hastily, "I tell you I didn't do it. I don't know anything about it."
"Will you dare to tell me such a falsehood as that again?" exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore, angrily, taking him by the collar and shaking him roughly.
"Let me alone now," whined the culprit. "I want my dinner, I say."
"You'll get no dinner to-day, I can tell you," replied his brother. "I am going to lock you into your bedroom, and keep you there until your father comes home; and then if he doesn't give you the flogging you deserve, I will; for I intend you shall have your deserts for once in your life. I know that all this is in revenge for Elsie's forced testimony in the affair of the watch, and I gave you fair warning then that I would see to it that any attempt to abuse my child should receive its just reward."
He took the boy by the arm as he spoke, to lead him from the room.
At first Arthur seemed disposed to resist; but soon, seeing how useless it was to contend against such odds, he resigned himself to his fate, saying sullenly, "You wouldn't treat me this way if mamma was at home."
"She is not, however, as it happens, though I can tell you that even she could not save you now," replied his brother, as he opened the bedroom door, and pushing him in, locked it upon him, and put the key in his pocket.
Mr. Horace Dinsmore had almost unbounded influence over his father, who was very proud of him; the old gentleman also utterly despised everything mean and underhanded, and upon being made acquainted by Horace with Arthur's misdemeanors he inflicted upon him as severe a punishment as any one
