LITMIR.BIZ

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papa!" she cried, with much of the old childish eagerness.

      "Then the sooner you begin, the better, I think, for we ought to be on our way to Roselands in an hour, or an hour and a quarter at the farthest."

      Upon that the gentlemen retired to the library to talk over business matters, and Mrs. Carrington led the way for Elsie to Lucy's room. But pausing in the upper hall, she took the young girl in her arms, folding her in a close, loving embrace, and heaping upon her tearful, tender, silent caresses.

      "My poor boy! my poor dear Herbert," she murmured at length, as she released her hold. "Darling, I can never forget that you might have been my daughter. But there—I will leave you. Lucy occupies her old rooms, and yonder is her door; you know the way."

      "But come in with me, dear Mrs. Carrington," urged Elsie, the tears shining in her eyes.

      "No, dear, not just yet. Lucy would prefer to see you quite alone at first, I know." And she glided away in the opposite direction.

      A soft, cooing sound came to Elsie's ear, mingled with fondling words, in a negro voice, as she stood an instant waiting admittance. Lucy, a good deal paler and thinner than the Lucy of old, lay back in an easy chair, languidly turning the leaves of a new magazine.

      "Open the door, mammy," she said, "I thought I heard a rap." Then at sight of Elsie, the magazine was hastily tossed aside, and with a cry of joy, "Oh, you darling! I thought I'd never see you again," she sprang forward, caught her friend in a close embrace, and wept upon her neck.

      Elsie soothed her with caresses and words of endearment, and presently she calmed down, made her friend take a seat, and sinking back into her own, wiped away the tears still welling up in her eyes, and with a little hysterical laugh said, "Please don't look so concerned, or think I'm unhappy with my dear old Phil, or going to die, or any such nonsense: it's just my nerves; hateful, torturing things! I wish I'd never found out I had any."

      "You poor dear, I'm so sorry for your lost health," said Elsie, exchanging her chair for a low ottoman at Lucy's feet, and taking the small thin hands in hers, stroking and patting them caressingly; "I know nerves won't be reasoned with, and that tears are often a great relief."

      "And I've everything to make me happy," sobbed Lucy—"the best husband in the world, and the darlingest of babies, to say nothing of mamma and papa, and the rest, and really almost everything one could desire."

      "Oh, the baby, yes!" cried Elsie, turning towards it with eager interest; "the sweet, pretty darling. May I take him a moment, Lucy?"

      "Certainly, if he's not too heavy—bring him here, mammy. I remember your father would not allow you to lift or carry little Horace."

      "Ah, but that was years ago! Ah, how lovely he is!" as the babe accepted her mute invitation to come to her. "You are rich indeed, with this treasure added to all your others. And you and your Phil don't quarrel yet?"

      "No indeed! not the first cross word yet. Mamma calls us her turtle-doves: says we're always billing and cooing. Ah, Elsie, how beautiful you are! I've always thought you just as lovely as possible, yet there's an added something—I can't divine what—that increases even your peerless attractions."

      "O Lucy, Lucy, still a flatterer!" laughed her friend.

      "Yet you've come back to us single," Lucy went on, ignoring the interruption, "though we all know you had ever so many good offers. Pray, do you intend to remain single all your days?"

      At that, Elsie's face dimpled all over with blushes and smiles.

      Lucy signed to the nurse to take the babe, and as the woman walked away with it in her arms, turned eagerly to her friend.

      "Now do tell me; for I'm sure you are not going to live single. Shall we have the pleasure of hailing you as duchess yet?"

      "No, Lucy; I intend to marry; am actually engaged, but not to a foreigner."

      "Dear me! I don't believe I could have resisted the title. That is," she added, hastily, "if I'd been heart-whole like you: but after seeing my Phil, of course I wouldn't give him up for all the nobles in Europe, Asia, and Africa. But do tell me who is the fortunate man?"

      "Suppose you try your skill at guessing."

      "Perfectly useless, never had any. It must be somebody I don't know."

      "My good little woman, you know him well."

      "Either of Harry's brothers-in-law? Richard? Harold?"

      "No, no, no; you are wide of the mark! Could you suppose papa would ever consent to such a mixture of relationships? Why, it would make papa my brother and mamma's brother her son-in-law."

      "So it would. Well, I give it up and beg of you to put a speedy end to my suspense."

      Lucy bent her head to listen, and Elsie murmured the name low and softly, the rose deepening on her cheek as she spoke. For a moment Lucy seemed struck dumb with astonishment. Then, "Elsie!" she exclaimed, "I can't believe it; you are only jesting."

      Elsie shook her head with a low, musical, happy laugh.

      "He's splendid, I don't deny that; but then—only think—your father's most intimate friend from boyhood up; and almost as old."

      "Some people seem like wine—to improve with age. But Mr. Travilla is not old to me now. He has been standing still, I believe, while I have grown up to him."

      "And you really are in love with him?"

      "He has all my heart, all the love I could give to any one, and I respect, honor, and trust him as I do no one else but my father."

      "And that reminds me; I was so afraid your father would not let you come to see me. But—you are your own mistress now, of course."

      "Papa tells me so sometimes," laughed Elsie, "and yet I know he would be greatly surprised should I take the liberty of doing anything he would not approve. I asked his permission to come, and he not only gave consent but brought me himself."

      "That was good in him; but I hope he won't hurry you away. I want to hear about your European conquests, and have ever so much to say besides."

      "No, he has kindly promised me time for a long talk. Besides, I can ride over any day and supplement it with another."

      Mr. Dinsmore was as good as his word; their chat had lasted more than an hour when his summons came, yet Lucy declared it had not been half long enough, and would not be satisfied to let Elsie go without a promise to come again very soon.

      "Roselands, too, looks very natural, and very homelike," remarked Mr. Dinsmore, as they rode up its avenue.

      "Yes, papa; and yet, do you know, it seems to me it has grown smaller and less grand since I lived here as a child."

      "Ah! did you think it very grand then, daughter?" he asked, turning to her with a smile.

      "I believe so, papa; but it is beautiful yet, even after all the fine places we have seen in our own country and Europe."

      Adelaide met them at the door. "Just in time," she said, "for there is the dressing-bell. Your own old room, Elsie dear: you know the way and will find Aunt Chloe in waiting. Horace, you will make yourself at home of course."

      It was strictly a family party, sociable and informal. Elsie had not met Arthur since their return, and at the first moment scarcely recognized him in the moustached and bewhiskered young man who rose and came forward, with a slight limp, to meet her as she entered the drawing-room.

      "How do you do?" he said, holding out his right hand, while steadying himself with a cane held in the left. "I hope you're glad to get back to America?"

      "Arthur, is it? Yes; thank you: and I'm very glad your injuries have proved less serious than was at first feared," she said, kindly meeting his advances half-way.

      "Oh yes," he replied, with attempted nonchalance, "I shall be all right by and by."

      Then retreating to the seat from which he had just risen, the corner of a sofa by the side of his

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