and began their game.
For a few moments all went on smoothly; but soon angry and complaining words were heard coming from the corner where the house-building was going on. Elsie left her game to try to make peace.
"What is the matter, Flora, dear?" she asked soothingly of a little curly-headed girl, who was sobbing, and wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron.
"Enna took my blocks," sobbed the child.
"Oh! Enna, won't you give them back?" said Elsie, coaxingly; "you know Flora is a visitor, and we must be very polite to her."
"No, I won't," returned Enna, flatly; "she's got enough now."
"No, I haven't; I can't build a house with those," Flora said, with another sob.
Elsie stood a moment looking much perplexed; then, with a brightening face, exclaimed in her cheerful, pleasant way, "Well, never mind, Flora, dear, I will get you my doll. Will not that do quite as well?"—"Oh! yes, I'd rather have the doll, Elsie," the little weeper answered eagerly, smiling through her tears.
Elsie ran out of the room and was back again almost in a moment, with the doll in her arms.
"There, dear little Flora," she said, laying it gently on the child's lap, "please be careful of it for I have had it a long while, and prize it very much, because my guardian gave it to me when I was a very little girl, and he is dead now."
"I won't break it, Elsie, indeed I won't," replied Flora, confidently; and Elsie sat down to her game again.
A few moments afterward Mr. Horace Dinsmore passed through the room.
"Elsie," he said, as he caught sight of his little daughter, "go up to my dressing-room."
There was evidently displeasure and reproof in his tone, and, entirely unconscious of wrongdoing, Elsie looked up in surprise, asking, "Why, papa?"
"Because I bid you," he replied; and she silently obeyed, wondering greatly what she had done to displease her father.
Mr. Dinsmore passed out of one door while Elsie left by the other.
The three little girls looked inquiringly into each other's faces.
"What is the matter? what has Elsie done?" asked Carry in a whisper.
"I don't know; nothing I guess," replied Lucy, indignantly. "I do believe he's just the crossest man alive! When I was here last summer he was all the time scolding and punishing poor Elsie for just nothing at all."
"I think he must be very strict," said Carry; "but Elsie seems to love him very much."
"Strict! I guess he is!" exclaimed Mary; "why, only think, girls, he makes her do her lessons in the holidays!"
"I suspect she did not know her lesson, and has to learn it over," said Carry, shaking her head wisely; and that was the conclusion they all came to.
In the meantime, Elsie sat down alone in her banishment, and tried to think what she could have done to deserve it.
It was some time before she could form any idea of its cause; but at length it suddenly came to her recollection that once, several months before this, her father had found her sitting on the carpet, and had bade her get up immediately and sit on a chair or stool, saying, "Never let me see you sitting on the floor, Elsie, when there are plenty of seats at hand. I consider it a very unladylike and slovenly trick."
She covered her face with her hands, and sat thus for some moments, feeling very sorry for her forgetfulness and disobedience; very penitent on account of it; and then, kneeling down, she asked forgiveness of God.
A full hour she had been there alone, and the time had seemed very long, when at last the door opened and her father came in.
Elsie rose and came forward to meet him with the air of one who had offended and knew she was in disgrace; but putting one of her little hands in his, she looked up pleadingly into his face, asking, in a slightly tremulous tone, "Dear papa, are you angry with me?"
"I am always displeased when you disobey me, Elsie," he replied, very gravely, laying his other hand on her head.
"I am very sorry I was naughty, papa," she said, humbly, and casting down her eyes, "but I had quite forgotten that you had told me not to sit on the floor, and I could not think for a good while what it was that I had done wrong."
"Is that an excuse for disobedience, Elsie?" he asked in a tone of grave displeasure.
"No, sir; I did not mean it so, and I am very, very sorry; dear papa, please forgive me, and I will try never to forget again."
"I think you disobeyed in another matter," he said.
"Yes, sir, I know it was very naughty to ask why, but I think I will remember not to do it again. Dear papa, won't you forgive me?"
He sat down and took her on his knee.
"Yes, daughter, I will," he said, in his usual kind, affectionate tone; "I am always ready to forgive my little girl when I see that she is sorry for a fault."
She held up her face for a kiss, which he gave.
"I wish I could always be good, papa," she said, "but I am naughty so often."
"No," said he, "I think you have been a very good girl for quite a long time. If you were as naughty as Arthur and Enna, I don't know what I should do with you; whip you every day, I suspect, until I made a better girl of you. Now you may go down to your mates; but remember, you are not to play jack-stones again."
It was now lunch-time, and Elsie found the children in the nursery engaged in eating.
Flora turned to her as she entered.
"Please, Elsie, don't be cross," she said coaxingly: "I am real sorry your doll's broken, but it wasn't my fault Enna would try to snatch it, and that made it fall and break its head."
Poor Elsie! this was quite a trial, and she could scarcely keep back the tears as, following Flora's glance, she saw her valued doll lying on the window-seat with its head broken entirely off. She said not a word, but, hastily crossing the room, took it up and gazed mournfully at it.
Kind Mrs. Brown, who had just finished helping her young charge all round, followed her to the window, "Never mind, dear," she said in her pleasant, cheery tone, patting Elsie's cheek and smoothing her hair "I've got some excellent glue, and I think I can stick it on again and make it almost as good as ever. So come, sit down and eat your lunch, and don't fret any more."
"Thank you, ma'am, you are very kind," Elsie said, trying to smile, as the kind-hearted old lady led her to the table and filled her plate with fruit and cakes.
"These cakes are very simple, not at all rich, my dear, but quite what your papa would approve of," she said, seeing the little girl look doubtfully at them.
"Doesn't your papa let you eat anything good, Elsie?" asked Mary Leslie across the table. "He must be cross."
"No, indeed, he is not, Mary, and he lets me eat everything that he thinks is good for me," Elsie answered with some warmth.
She
