Part 11 (1/2)

”Why, Elsie, what does all this mean!” exclaimed Mr. Dinsmore in great surprise and perplexity; while Mr. Travilla stood in the doorway looking half amused, half sorry for what he had done.

”O papa!” sobbed the little girl, still clinging to him as though fearing she should be torn from his arms, ”Mr. Travilla says you have given me to him. O papa! _don't_ give me away.”

”Pooh! nonsense, Elsie! I am ashamed of you! how can you be so very silly as to believe for one moment anything so perfectly absurd as that I should think of giving you away? Why, I would as soon think of parting with my eyes.”

Elsie raised her head and gazed searchingly into his face; then with a deep-drawn sigh of relief, dropped it again, saying, ”Oh! I am _so_ glad.”

”Really, Miss Elsie,” said Travilla, coming up and patting her on the shoulder, ”I can't say that I feel much complimented; and, indeed, I don't see why you need have been so very much distressed at the prospect before you; for I must say I have vanity enough to imagine that I should make the better--or at least the more indulgent--father of the two. Come, now, wouldn't you be willing to try me for a month, if your papa will give consent?”

Elsie shook her head.

”I will let you have your own way in everything,” urged Travilla, coaxingly; ”and I know that is more than he does.”

”I don't want my own way, Mr. Travilla; I know it wouldn't always be a good way,” replied Elsie, decidedly.

Her father laughed and pa.s.sed his hand caressingly over her curls.

”I thought you liked me, little Elsie,” said Travilla, in a tone of disappointment.

”So I do, Mr. Travilla; I like you very much,” she replied.

”Well, don't you think I would make a good father?”

”I am sure you would be very kind, and that I should love you very much; but not so much as I love my own papa; because, you know, you are _not_ my papa, and never can be, even if he _should_ give me to you.”

Mr. Dinsmore laughed heartily, saying, ”I think you may as well give it up, Travilla; it seems I'll have to keep her whether or no, for she clings to me like a leech.”

”Well, Elsie, you will at least come to the piano and play a little for me, will you not?” asked Travilla, smiling.

But Elsie still clung to her father, seeming loath to leave him, until he said, in his grave, decided way, ”Go, Elsie; go at once, and do as you are requested.”

Then she rose instantly to obey.

Travilla looked somewhat vexed. ”I wish,” he afterward remarked to his mother, ”that Dinsmore was not quite so ready to second my requests with his commands. I want Elsie's compliance to be voluntary; else I think it worth very little.”

Elsie played and sang until they were called to tea; after which she sat quietly by her father's side, listening to the conversation of her elders until the carriage was announced.

”Well, my daughter,” said Mr. Dinsmore, when they were fairly upon their way to Roselands, ”have you had a pleasant day?”

”Oh! _very pleasant_, papa, excepting--” She paused, looking a little embarra.s.sed.

”Well, excepting what?” he asked, smiling down at her.

”Excepting when Mr. Travilla frightened me so, papa,” she replied, moving closer to his side, blus.h.i.+ng and casting down her eyes.

”And you do love your own papa best, and don't want to exchange him for another?” he said, inquiringly, as he pa.s.sed his arm affectionately around her waist.

”Oh! no, dear papa, not for anybody else in all the world,” she said earnestly.

He made no reply in words, but, looking highly gratified, bent down and kissed her cheek.