LITMIR.BIZ

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what answer did you give them?" he asked with some curiosity.

      "That I should do so if possible; that meant if I could obtain your permission, papa."

      "You have it. Lucy is in some sort taken into the family now, and you are safely engaged; to say nothing of your mature years," he added laughingly, as she seated herself on his knee again and thanked him with a hug and kiss.

      "You dear good papa!"

      "Some girls of your age, heiresses in their own right, would merely have said, 'I'm going,' never asking permission."

      "Ah, but I like to be ruled by you. So please don't give it up. Now about Enna?"

      "If I had any authority in the matter, I should say, you shall not give her a cent. She doesn't deserve it from you or any one."

      "Then I shall wait till you change your mind."

      Mr. Dinsmore shook his head. "Ah! my little girl, you don't realize how much some one else's opinions will soon weigh with you," he answered, putting an arm about her and looking with fatherly delight into the sweet face.

      "Ah, papa!" she cried, laying her cheek to his, "please don't talk so; it hurts me."

      "Then, dearest, I shall not say it again, though indeed I was not reproaching you; it is right, very right, that husband and wife should be more than all the world beside to each other."

      Elsie's cheek crimsoned. "It has not come to that yet, father dear," she murmured, half averting her blushing face; "and—I don't know which of you I love best—or how I could ever do without either: the love differs in kind rather than in degree."

      He drew her closer. "Thank you, my darling; what more could I ask or desire?" A slight tap on the door and Mrs. Dinsmore looked in. "Any admittance?" she asked playfully.

      "Always to my wife," answered her husband, releasing Elsie and rising to hand Rose a chair.

      "Thanks, my dear, but I haven't time to sit down," she said. "Here is a note of invitation for us all to spend the day at Roselands. Shall we go?"

      "Certainly, if it suits you, Rose," replied Mr. Dinsmore; "and Elsie;" he added, "will you go, daughter?"

      "If you wish it, papa," she answered cheerfully; yet there was a slight reluctance in her tone.

      He gave her a kind, fond look. "You are your own mistress, and can accept or decline as your judgment and wishes dictate."

      "But you would rather have me go, papa?"

      "I would, because it would seem more kind and courteous. But what is the objection in your mind? Perhaps it could be removed."

      "I wanted so much to see Lucy this morning," Elsie answered with a blush; "but to-morrow will do."

      "But both might be accomplished if mamma and Adelaide like to have Cæsar drive them and the little ones over to Roselands. Then you and I will mount our horses and away to Ashlands for a call, leaving there in good time to join the dinner party at Roselands. How will that do?"

      "Oh, bravely, you dear darling papa! always contriving for my enjoyment."

      Mr. Dinsmore followed his wife from the room. "'Twill be an early return of Carrington's call," he said, "but I have a little business with him."

      "Yes, I'm very glad: it is a good plan; but don't hurry Elsie away. She and Lucy will want a long talk."

      "I promise to be careful to obey orders," he answered, sportively. "Is that all?"

      "Yes; only see that you don't stay too long, and keep the dinner waiting at Roselands."

      "Mamma," asked Elsie, bringing up the rear as they entered the sitting-room, "can't you go, too—you and Aunt Adelaide? Four make as nice a party as two, and the babies can be driven over quite safely, with their mammies, to take care of them."

      "No," said Rose, "I never accept such late invitations; I shall——"

      "My dear," said her husband, "we would be very glad."

      "No, no; the first arrangement is decidedly the best;" putting on an air of pretended pique.

      "Babies! do you call me a baby?" cried young Horace, who had sprung to his feet with a flash of indignation in his great black eyes, "I'm nine years old, Elsie. Rosie there's the only baby belonging to this house. Do you think papa would let a baby have a pony like Gip? and a pistol of his own, too?"

      Elsie put her arms round his neck, and gave him a kiss, "I beg ten thousand pardons."

      "Elsie, my daughter, don't allow yourself to speak so extravagantly," interrupted her father.

      "I will try not, papa," she answered. "I beg your pardon, Horace dear, and assure you I think you are quite a manly young man. Now I must prepare for my ride, papa. I shall be ready by the time the horses can be brought to the door."

      "Papa," said Horace, as the door closed upon his sister, "may I ride Gip to-day?"

      "If you promise me to keep close beside the carriage."

      "Oh, papa, can't I ride on ahead a little, now and then, or fall a few paces behind if I wish?"

      "No; you may do just what I have given permission for, and nothing else."

      Chapter Fourth

       Table of Contents

      "Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,

       In ev'ry gesture, dignity and love."

       —MILTON'S PARADISE LOST.

      "But, Elsie, what of Mr. Travilla?" asked her father, as he handed her into the saddle.

      "He will not be here till evening, sir," she answered, the rose on her cheek deepening slightly.

      "Then I can have undisturbed possession for to-day at least," replied Mr. Dinsmore, mounting. "We couldn't have a lovelier day for a ride."

      "Nor better company," added Elsie, archly, keeping her horse's head on a line with that of her father's larger Steed, as they followed the winding carriage road at a brisk canter.

      "Why, you conceited little puss?" returned Mr. Dinsmore laughing.

      Elsie blushed more deeply this time. "Why, papa, you are the company to-day, are you not? I wished to go, and you kindly arranged to accompany me."

      "Ah! and that is how you look at it? Well, I recall my rebuke, and thank you for your—what shall I say—pretty compliment, or appreciation of my society?"

      "Both, if you like. Oh, how nice it is to be at home again in our own dear native land."

      "And what do you call your own dear native land?"

      "What a strange question, papa! The great, grand old Union to be sure—North and South, East and West—is it not all mine? Have you not taught me so yourself?"

      "Yes," he said musingly.

      They rode on in silence for some minutes, and when he spoke again, it was upon a subject entirely foreign to the last.

      "The place looks natural," he remarked, as they turned into the avenue leading to the fine old dwelling of the Carringtons.

      "How kind, how very kind, to come so soon!" was Mrs. Carrington's cordial, joyful salutation. "Mr. Dinsmore, I owe you a thousand thanks for not only permitting your daughter to come, but bringing her yourself."

      "You are very welcome, my dear madam," he answered courteously; "and, indeed, I should like to see Mrs. Rose myself, when she is well enough and feels that it will be agreeable to her."

      A few moments' chat in the drawing-room, and Mr. Dinsmore drew out his watch. "How long a talk do you want with your friend to-day, Elsie?" he asked.

      "Oh, just as long as

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