Elsie Dinsmore Page 2

  CHAPTER SECOND

  "Thy injuries would teach patience to blaspheme, Yet still thou art a dove." --BEAUMONT'S _Double Marriage._

  "When forced to part from those we love, Though sure to meet to-morrow; We yet a kind of anguish prove And feel a touch of sorrow. But oh! what words can paint the fears When from these friends we sever, Perhaps to part for months--for years-- Perhaps to part forever." --ANON.

  When Miss Allison had gone, and Elsie found herself once more quitealone, she rose from her chair, and kneeling down with the open Biblebefore her, she poured out her story of sins and sorrows, in simple,child-like words, into the ears of the dear Saviour whom she loved sowell; confessing that when she had done well and suffered for it, shehad not taken it patiently, and earnestly pleading that she might bemade like unto the meek and lowly Jesus. Low sobs burst from herburdened heart, and the tears of penitence fell upon the pages of theholy book. But when she rose from her knees, her load of sin and sorrowwas all gone, and her heart made light and happy with a sweet sense ofpeace and pardon. Once again, as often before, the little Elsie wasmade to experience the blessedness of "the man whose transgression isforgiven, whose sin is covered."

  She now set to work diligently at her studies, and ere the partyreturned was quite prepared to meet Miss Day, having attendedfaithfully to all she had required of her. The lesson was recitedwithout the smallest mistake, every figure of the examples worked outcorrectly, and the page of the copy-book neatly and carefully written.

  Miss Day had been in a very captious mood all day, and seemed reallyprovoked that Elsie had not given her the smallest excuse forfault-finding. Handing the book back to her, she said, very coldly, "Isee you can do your duties well enough when you choose."

  Elsie felt keenly the injustice of the remark, and longed to say thatshe had tried quite as earnestly in the morning; but she resolutelycrushed down the indignant feeling, and calling to mind the rash wordsthat had cost her so many repentant tears, she replied meekly, "I amsorry I did not succeed better this morning, Miss Day, though I didreally try; and I am still more sorry for the saucy answer I gave you;and I ask your pardon for it."

  "You _ought_ to be sorry," replied Miss Day, severely, "and I hope youare; for it was a very impertinent speech indeed, and deserving of amuch more severe punishment than you received. Now go, and never let mehear anything of the kind from you again."

  Poor little Elsie's eyes filled with tears at these ungracious words,accompanied by a still more ungracious manner; but she turned awaywithout a word, and placing her books and slate carefully in her desk,left the room.

  Rose Allison was sitting alone in her room that evening, thinking ofher far-distant home, when hearing a gentle rap at her door, she roseand opened it to find Elsie standing there with her little Bible in herhand.

  "Come in, darling," she said, stooping to give the little one a kiss;"I am very glad to see you."

  "I may stay with you for half an hour, Miss Allison, if you like," saidthe child, seating herself on the low ottoman pointed out by Rose, "andthen mammy is coming to put me to bed."

  "It will be a very pleasant half-hour to both of us, I hope," repliedRose, opening her Bible.

  They read a chapter together--Rose now and then pausing to make a fewexplanations--and then kneeling down, she offered up a prayer for theteachings of the Spirit, and for God's blessing on themselves and alltheir dear ones.

  "Dear little Elsie," she said, folding the child in her arms, when theyhad risen from their knees, "how I love you already, and how very gladI am to find that there is one in this house beside myself who lovesJesus, and loves to study His word, and to call upon His name."

  "Yes, dear Miss Allison; and there is _more_ than one, for mammy lovesHim, too, very dearly," replied the little girl, earnestly.

  "Does she, darling? Then I must love her, too, for I cannot help lovingall who love my Saviour."

  Then Rose sat down, and drawing the little girl to a seat on her knee,they talked sweetly together of the race they were running, and theprize they hoped to obtain at the end of it; of the battle they werefighting, and the invisible foes with whom they were called tostruggle--the armor that had been provided, and of Him who had promisedto be the Captain of their salvation, and to bring them off more thanconquerors. They were pilgrims in the same straight and narrow way, andit was very pleasant thus to walk a little while together. "Then theythat feared the Lord spake often one to another; and the Lord hearkenedand heard it; and a book of remembrance was written before Him for themthat feared the Lord, and that thought upon His name. And they shall bemine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels;and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him."

  "That is mammy coming for me," said Elsie, as a low knock was heard atthe door.

  "Come in," said Rose, and the door opened, and a very nice coloredwoman of middle age, looking beautifully neat in her snow-white apronand turban, entered with a low courtesy, asking, "Is my little missusready for bed now?"

  "Yes," said Elsie, jumping off Rose's lap; "but come here, mammy; Iwant to introduce you to Miss Allison."

  "How do you do, Aunt Chloe? I am very glad to know you, since Elsietells me you are a servant of the same blessed Master whom I love andtry to serve," said Rose, putting her small white hand cordially intoChloe's dusky one.

  "'Deed I hope I is, missus," replied Chloe, pressing it fervently inboth of hers. "I's only a poor old black sinner, but de good LordJesus, He loves me jes de same as if I was white, an' I love Him an'all His chillen with all my heart."

  "Yes, Aunt Chloe," said Rose, "He is our peace, and hath made both one,and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us; so thatwe are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with thesaints and of the household of God; and are built upon the foundationof the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chiefcorner-stone."

  "Yes, missus, dat's it for sure; ole Chloe knows dat's in de Bible; an'if we be built on dat bressed corner-stone, we's safe ebery one; I'seheard it many's de time, an' it fills dis ole heart with joy an' peacein believing," she exclaimed, raising her tearful eyes and clasping herhands. "But good night, missus; I must put my chile to bed," she added,taking Elsie's hand.

  "Good-night, Aunt Chloe; come in again," said Rose. "And good-night toyou, too, dear little Elsie," folding the little girl again in her arms.

  "Ain't dat a bressed young lady, darlin'!" exclaimed Chloe, earnestly,as she began the business of preparing her young charge for bed.

  "O mammy, I love her so much! she's so good and kind," replied thechild, "and she loves Jesus, and loves to talk about Him."

  "She reminds me of your dear mamma, Miss Elsie, but she's not sohandsome," replied the nurse, with a tear in her eye; "ole Chloe tinksdere's nebber any lady so beautiful as her dear young missus was."

  Elsie drew out the miniature and kissed it, murmuring, "Dear, darlingmamma," then put it back in her bosom again, for she always wore it dayand night. She was standing in her white night-dress, the tiny whitefeet just peeping from under it, while Chloe brushed back her curls andput on her night-cap.

  "Dere now, darlin', you's ready for bed," she exclaimed, giving thechild a hug and a kiss.

  "No, mammy, not quite," replied the little girl, and gliding away tothe side of the bed, she knelt down and offered up her evening prayer.Then, coming back to the toilet table, she opened her little Bible,saying, "Now, mammy, I will read you a chapter while you are gettingready for bed."

  The room was large and airy, and Aunt Chloe, who was never willing toleave her nursling, but watched over her night and day with the mostdevoted affection, slept in a cot bed in one corner.

  "Tank you, my dear young missus, you's berry good," she said, beginningthe preparations for the night by taking off her turban and replacingit by a thick night-cap.

  When the chapter was finis
hed Elsie got into bed, saying, "Now, mammy,you may put out the light as soon as you please; and be sure to call meearly in the morning, for I have a lesson to learn before breakfast."

  "That I will, darlin'," replied the old woman, spreading the covercarefully over her. "Good-night, my pet, your ole mammy hopes her chilewill have pleasant dreams."

  Rose Allison was an early riser, and as the breakfast hour at Roselandswas eight o'clock, she always had an hour or two for reading before itwas time to join the family circle. She had asked Elsie to come to herat half-past seven, and punctually at the hour the little girl's gentlerap was heard at her door.

  "Come in," said Rose, and Elsie entered, looking as bright and freshand rosy as the morning. She had her little Bible under her arm, and abouquet of fresh flowers in her hand. "Good-morning, dear MissAllison," she said, dropping a graceful courtesy as she presented it."I have come to read, and I have just been out to gather these for you,because I know you love flowers."

  "Thank you, darling, they are very lovely," said Rose, accepting thegift and bestowing a caress upon the giver. "You are quite punctual,"she added, "and now we can have our half-hour together beforebreakfast."

  The time was spent profitably and pleasantly, and passed so quicklythat both were surprised when the breakfast bell rang.

  Miss Allison spent the whole fall and winter at Roselands; and it wasvery seldom during all that time that she and Elsie failed to havetheir morning and evening reading and prayer together. Rose was oftenmade to wonder at the depth of the little girl's piety and theknowledge of divine things she possessed. But Elsie had had the best ofteaching. Chloe, though entirely uneducated, was a simple-minded,earnest Christian, and with a heart full of love to Jesus, had, as wehave seen, early endeavored to lead the little one to Him, and Mrs.Murray--the housekeeper whom Adelaide had mentioned, and who hadassisted Chloe in the care of the child from the time of her birthuntil a few months before Rose's coming, when she had suddenly beensummoned home to Scotland--had proved a very faithful friend. She wasan intelligent woman and devotedly pious, and had carefully instructedthis lonely little one, for whom she felt almost a parent's affection,and her efforts to bring her to a saving knowledge of Christ had beensignally owned and blessed of God; and in answer to her earnestprayers, the Holy Spirit had vouchsafed His teachings, without whichall human instruction must ever be in vain. And young as Elsie was, shehad already a very lovely and well-developed Christian character.Though not a remarkably precocious child in other respects, she seemedto have very clear and correct views on almost every subject connectedwith her duty to God and her neighbor; was very truthful both in wordand deed, very strict in her observance of the Sabbath--though the restof the family were by no means particular in that respect--verydiligent in her studies, respectful to superiors, and kind to inferiorsand equals; and she was gentle, sweet-tempered, patient, and forgivingto a remarkable degree. Rose became strongly attached to her, and thelittle girl fully returned her affection.

  Elsie was very sensitive and affectionate, and felt keenly the want ofsympathy and love, for which, at the time of Rose's coming, she had noone to look to but poor old Chloe, who loved her with all her heart.

  It is true, Adelaide sometimes treated her almost affectionately, andLora, who had a very strong sense of justice, occasionally interferedand took her part when she was very unjustly accused, but no one seemedreally to care for her, and she often felt sad and lonely. Mr.Dinsmore, though her own grandfather, treated her with entire neglect,seemed to have not the slightest affection for her, and usually spokeof her as "old Crayson's grandchild." Mrs. Dinsmore really dislikedher, because she looked upon her as the child of a stepson for whom shehad never felt any affection, and also as the future rival of her ownchildren; while the governess and the younger members of the family,following the example of their elders, treated her with neglect, andoccasionally even with abuse. Miss Day, knowing that she was in nodanger of incurring the displeasure of her superiors by so doing,vented upon her all the spite she dared not show to her other pupils;and continually she was made to give up her toys and pleasures to Enna,and even sometimes to Arthur and Walter. It often cost her a struggle,and had she possessed less of the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit,her life had been wretched indeed.

  But in spite of all her trials and vexations, little Elsie was thehappiest person in the family; for she had in her heart that peacewhich the world can neither give nor take away; that joy which theSaviour gives to His own, and no man taketh from them. She constantlycarried all her sorrows and troubles to Him, and the coldness andneglect of others seemed but to drive her nearer to that HeavenlyFriend, until she felt that while possessed of His love, she could notbe unhappy, though treated with scorn and abuse by all the world.

  "The good are better made by ill, As odors crushed are sweeter still;"

  And even so it seemed to be with little Elsie; her trials seemed tohave only the effect of purifying and making more lovely her naturallyamiable character.

  Elsie talked much and thought more of her absent and unknown father,and longed with an intensity of desire for his return home. It was herdream, by day and by night, that he had come, that he had taken her tohis heart, calling her "his own darling child, his precious littleElsie;" for such were the loving epithets she often heard lavished uponEnna, and which she longed to hear addressed to herself. But from monthto month, and year to year, that longed-for return had been delayeduntil the little heart had grown sick with hope deferred, and was oftenweary with its almost hopeless waiting. But to return.

  "Elsie," said Adelaide, as Miss Allison and the little girl entered thebreakfast-room on the morning after Elsie's disappointment, "the fairis not over yet, and Miss Allison and I are going to ride out therethis afternoon; so, if you are a good girl in school, you may go withus."

  "Oh! thank you, dear Aunt Adelaide," exclaimed the little girl,clapping her hands with delight; "how kind you are! and I shall be soglad."

  Miss Day frowned, and looked as if she wanted to reprove her for hernoisy demonstrations of delight, but, standing somewhat in awe ofAdelaide, said nothing.

  But Elsie suddenly relapsed into silence, for at that moment Mrs.Dinsmore entered the room, and it was seldom that she could utter aword in her presence without being reproved and told that "childrenshould be seen and not heard," though her own were allowed to talk asmuch as they pleased.

  Miss Day seemed cross, Mrs. Dinsmore was moody and taciturn,complaining of headache, and Mr. Dinsmore occupied with the morningpaper; and so the meal passed off in almost unbroken silence. Elsie wasglad when it was over, and hastening to the school-room, she began hertasks without waiting for the arrival of the regular hour for study.

  She had the room entirely to herself, and had been busily engaged forhalf an hour in working out her examples, when the opening of the doorcaused her to look up, and, to her dismay, Arthur entered. He did not,however, as she feared, begin his customary course of teasing andtormenting, but seated himself at his desk, leaning his head upon hishand in an attitude of dejection.

  Elsie wondered what ailed him, his conduct was so unusual, and shecould not help every now and then sending an inquiring glance towardhim, and at length she asked, "What is the matter, Arthur?"

  "Nothing much," said he, gruffly, turning his back to her.

  Thus repulsed, she said no more, but gave her undivided attention toher employment; and so diligent was she, that Miss Day had no excusewhatever for fault-finding this morning. Her tasks were all completedwithin the required time, and she enjoyed her promised ride with heraunt and Miss Allison, and her visit to the fair, very much indeed.

  It was still early when they returned; and finding that she had nearlyan hour to dispose of before tea-time, Elsie thought she would finish adrawing which she had left in her desk in the school-room. Whilesearching for it and her pencil, she heard Lora's and Arthur's voiceson the veranda.

  She did not notice what they were saying, until her own name struck herear.


  "Elsie is the only person," Lora was saying, "who can, and probablywill, help you; for she has plenty of money, and she is so kind andgenerous; but, if I were you, I should be ashamed to ask her, after theway you acted toward her."

  "I wish I hadn't teased her so yesterday," replied Arthur,disconsolately, "but it's such fun, I can't help it sometimes."

  "Well, I know I wouldn't ask a favor of anybody I had treated so," saidLora, walking away.

  Elsie sat still a few moments, working at her drawing and wondering allthe time what it was Arthur wanted, and thinking how glad she would beof an opportunity of returning him good for evil. She did not like,though, to seek his confidence, but presently hearing him heave a deepsigh, she rose and went out on the veranda.

  He was leaning on the railing in an attitude of dejection, his headbent down and his eyes fixed on the floor. She went up to him, andlaying her hand softly on his shoulder, said, in the sweet, gentletones natural to her. "What ails you, Arthur? Can I do anything foryou? I will be very glad if I can."

  "No--yes--" he answered hesitatingly; "I wouldn't like to ask youafter--after--"

  "Oh! never mind," said Elsie, quickly; "I do not care anything aboutthat now. I had the ride to-day, and that was better still, because Iwent with Aunt Adelaide and Miss Allison. Tell me what you want."

  Thus encouraged, Arthur replied, "I saw a beautiful little shipyesterday when I was in the city; it was only five dollars, and I'veset my heart on having it, but my pocket money's all gone, and papawon't give me a cent until next month's allowance is due; and by thattime the ship will be gone, for it's such a beauty somebody'll be sureto buy it."

  "Won't your mamma buy it for you?" asked Elsie.

  "No, she says she hasn't the money to spare just now. You know it'snear the end of the month, and they've all spent their allowancesexcept Louise, and she says she'll not lend her money to such aspendthrift as I am."

  Elsie drew out her purse, and seemed just about to put it into hishand; but, apparently changing her mind, she hesitated a moment, andthen returning it to her pocket, said, with a half smile, "I don'tknow, Arthur; five dollars is a good deal for a little girl like me tolay out at once. I must think about it a little."

  "I don't ask you to _give_ it," he replied scornfully; "I'll pay itback in two weeks."

  "Well, I will see by to-morrow morning," she said, darting away, whilehe sent an angry glance after her, muttering the word "stingy" betweenhis teeth.

  Elsie ran down to the kitchen, asking of one and another of theservants as she passed, "Where's Pompey?" The last time she put thequestion to Phoebe, the cook, but was answered by Pompey himself. "Heream Pomp, Miss Elsie; what does little missy want wid dis chile?"

  "Are you going to the city to-night, Pompey?"

  "Yes, Miss Elsie, I'se got some arrants to do for missus an' de familyin ginral, an' I ben gwine start in 'bout ten minutes. Little missywants sumpin', eh?"

  Elsie motioned to him to come close to her, and then putting her purseinto his hands, she told him in a whisper of Arthur's wish, anddirected him to purchase the coveted toy, and bring it to her, ifpossible, without letting any one else know anything about it. "Andkeep half a dollar for yourself, Pompey, to pay you for your trouble,"she added in conclusion.

  "Tank you, little missy," he replied, with a broad grin ofsatisfaction; "dat be berry good pay, and Pomp am de man to do disbusiness up for you 'bout right."

  The tea-bell rang, and Elsie hastened away to answer the summons. Shelooked across the table at Arthur with a pleasant smile on hercountenance, but he averted his eyes with an angry scowl; and with aslight sigh she turned away her head, and did not look at him againduring the meal.

  Pompey executed his commission faithfully; and when Elsie returned toher own room after her evening hour with Miss Rose, Chloe pointed outthe little ship standing on the mantel.

  "Oh! it's a little beauty," cried Elsie, clapping her hands and dancingup and down with delight; "how Arthur will be pleased! Now, mammy, canyou take it to the school-room, and put it on Master Arthur's desk,without anybody seeing you?"

  "Ole Chloe'll try, darlin," she said, taking it in her hands.

  "Oh! wait one moment," exclaimed Elsie, and taking a card, she wrote onit, "A present to Arthur, from his niece Elsie." Then laying it on thedeck of the little vessel. "There, mammy," she said, "I think that willdo; but please look out first to see whether any one is in the hall."

  "Coast all clear, darlin'," replied Chloe, after a careful survey; "allde chillens am in bed before dis time, I spec." And taking a candle inone hand and the little ship in the other, she started for theschool-room. She soon returned with a broad grin of satisfaction on herblack face, saying, "All right, darlin', I put him on Massa Arthur'sdesk, an' nobody de wiser."

  So Elsie went to bed very happy in the thought of the pleasure Arthurwould have in receiving her present.

  She was hurrying down to the breakfast-room the next morning, a littlein advance of Miss Rose, who had stopped to speak to Adelaide, whenArthur came running up behind her, having just come in by a side doorfrom the garden, and seizing her round the waist, he said, "Thank you,Elsie; you're a real good girl! She sails beautifully. I've been tryingher on the pond. But it mustn't be a _present;_ you must let me pay youback when I get my allowance."

  "Oh! no, Arthur, that would spoil it all," she answered quickly; "youare entirely welcome, and you know my allowance is so large that halfthe time I have more money than I know how to spend."

  "I should like to see the time that would be the case with me," saidhe, laughing. Then in a lower tone, "Elsie, I'm sorry I teased you so.I'll not do it again soon."

  Elsie answered him with a grateful look, as she stepped past him andquietly took her place at the table.

  Arthur kept his word, and for many weeks entirely refrained fromteasing Elsie, and while freed from that annoyance she was always ableto have her tasks thoroughly prepared; and though her governess wasoften unreasonable and exacting, and there was scarcely a day in whichshe was not called upon to yield her own wishes or pleasures, or insome way to inconvenience herself to please Walter or Enna, oroccasionally the older members of the family, yet it was an unusuallyhappy winter to her, for Rose Allison's love and uniform kindness shedsunshine on her path. She had learned to yield readily to others, andwhen fretted or saddened by unjust or unkind treatment, a few momentsalone with her precious Bible and her loved Saviour made all rightagain, and she would come from those sweet communings looking asserenely happy as if she had never known an annoyance. She was a wonderto all the family. Her grandfather would sometimes look at her as,without a frown or a pout, she would give up her own wishes to Enna,and shaking his head, say, "She's no Dinsmore, or she would know how tostand up for her own rights better than that. _I_ don't like suchtame-spirited people. She's not Horace's child; it never was an easymatter to impose upon or conquer him. He was a boy of spirit."

  "What a strange child Elsie is?" Adelaide remarked to her friend oneday. "I am often surprised to see how sweetly she gives up to all ofus; really she has a lovely temper. I quite envy her; it was alwayshard for me to give up my own way."

  "I do not believe it was easy for her at first," said Rose. "I thinkher sweet disposition is the fruit of a work of grace in her heart. Itis the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which God alone can bestow."

  "I wish I had it, then," said Adelaide, sighing.

  "You have only to go to the right source to obtain it, dear Adelaide,"replied her friend, gently.

  "And yet," said Adelaide, "I must say I sometimes think that, as papasays, there is something mean-spirited and cowardly in always giving upto other people."

  "It would indeed be cowardly and wrong to give up _principle_," repliedRose, "but surely it is noble and generous to give up our own wishes toanother, where no principle is involved."

  "Certainly, you are right," said Adelaide, musingly. "And now Irecollect that, readily as Elsie gives up her own wishes to others onordi
nary occasions, I have never known her to sacrifice principle; but,on the contrary, she has several times made mamma excessively angry byrefusing to romp and play with Enna on the Sabbath, or to deceive papawhen questioned with regard to some of Arthur's misdeeds; yet she hasoften borne the blame of his faults, when she might have escaped bytelling of him. Elsie is certainly very different from any of the restof us, and if it is piety that makes her what she is, I think piety isa very lovely thing."

  Elsie's mornings were spent in the school-room; in the afternoon shewalked, or rode out, sometimes in company with her young uncles andaunts, and sometimes alone, a negro boy following at a respectfuldistance, as a protector. In the evening there was almost alwayscompany in the parlor, and she found it pleasanter to sit beside thebright wood-fire in her own room, with her fond old nurse for acompanion, than to stay there, or with the younger ones in thesitting-room or nursery. If she had no lesson to learn, she usuallyread aloud to Chloe, as she sat knitting by the fire, and the Bible wasthe book generally preferred by both; and then when she grew weary ofreading, she would often take a stool, and sitting down close to Chloe,put her head in her lap, saying, "Now, mammy, tell me about mamma."

  And then for the hundredth time or more the old woman would go over thestory of the life and death of her "dear young missus," as she alwayscalled her; telling of her beauty, her goodness, and of her sorrows andsufferings during the last year of her short life.

  It was a story which never lost its charm for Elsie; a story which theone never wearied of telling, nor the other of hearing. Elsie would sitlistening, with her mother's miniature in her hand, gazing at it withtearful eyes, then press it to her lips, murmuring, "My own mamma;poor, dear mamma." And when Chloe had finished that story she wouldusually say, "Now, mammy, tell me all about papa."

  But upon this subject Chloe had very little information to give. Sheknew him only as a gay, handsome young stranger, whom she had seenoccasionally during a few months, and who had stolen all the sunshinefrom her beloved young mistress' life, and left her to die alone; yetshe did not blame him when speaking to his child, for the young wifehad told her that he had not forsaken her of his own free choice; andthough she could not quite banish from her own mind the idea that hehad not been altogether innocent in the matter, she breathed no hint ofit to Elsie; for Chloe was a sensible woman, and knew that to lead thelittle one to think ill of her only remaining parent would but tend tomake her unhappy.

  Sometimes Elsie would ask very earnestly, "Do you thing papa lovesJesus, mammy?" And Chloe would reply with a doubtful shake of the head,"Dunno, darlin'; but ole Chloe prays for him ebery day."

  "And so do I," Elsie would answer; "dear, dear papa, how I wish hewould come home!"

  And so the winter glided away, and spring came, and Miss Allison mustsoon return home. It was now the last day of March, and her departurehad been fixed for the second of April. For a number of weeks Elsie hadbeen engaged, during all her spare moments, in knitting a purse forRose, wishing to give her something which was the work of her ownhands, knowing that as such it would be more prized by her friend thana costlier gift. She had just returned from her afternoon ride, andtaking out her work she sat down to finish it. She was in her own room,with no companion but Chloe, who sat beside her knitting as usual.

  Elsie worked on silently for some time, then suddenly holding up herpurse, she exclaimed, "See, mammy, it is all done but putting on thetassel! Isn't it pretty? and won't dear Miss Allison be pleased withit?"

  It really was very pretty indeed, of crimson and gold, and beautifullyknit, and Chloe, looking at it with admiring eyes, said, "I spec shewill, darlin'. I tink it's berry handsome."

  At this moment Enna opened the door and came in.

  Elsie hastily attempted to conceal the purse by thrusting it into herpocket, but it was too late, for Enna had seen it, and running towardher, cried out, "Now, Elsie, just give that to me!"

  "No, Enna," replied Elsie, mildly, "I cannot let you have it, becauseit is for Miss Rose."

  "I will have it," exclaimed the child, resolutely, "and if you don'tgive it to me at once I shall just go and tell mamma."

  "I will let you take it in your hand a few moments to look at it, ifyou will be careful not to soil it, Enna," said Elsie, in the samegentle tone; "and if you wish, I will get some more silk and beads, andmake you one just like it; but I cannot give you this, because I wouldnot have time to make another for Miss Rose."

  "No, I shall just have that one; and I shall have it to keep," saidEnna, attempting to snatch it out of Elsie's hand.

  But Elsie held it up out of her reach, and after trying several timesin vain to get it, Enna left the room, crying and screaming withpassion.

  Chloe locked the door, saying, "Great pity, darlin', we forgot to dodat 'fore Miss Enna came. I'se 'fraid she gwine bring missus for makeyou gib um up."

  Elsie sat down to her work again, but she was very pale, and her littlehands trembled with agitation, and her soft eyes were full of tears.

  Chloe's fears were but too well founded; for the next moment hastysteps were heard in the passage, and the handle of the door was laidhold of with no very gentle grasp; and then, as it refused to yield toher touch, Mrs. Dinsmore's voice was heard in an angry tone giving thecommand, "Open this door instantly."

  Chloe looked at her young mistress.

  "You will have to," said Elsie, tearfully, slipping her work into herpocket again, and lifting up her heart in prayer for patience andmeekness, for she well knew she would have need of both.

  Mrs. Dinsmore entered, leading the sobbing Enna by the hand; her facewas flushed with passion, and addressing Elsie in tones of violentanger, she asked, "What is the meaning of all this, yougood-for-nothing hussy? Why are you always tormenting this poor child?Where is that paltry trifle that all this fuss is about? let me see itthis instant."

  Elsie drew the purse from her pocket, saying in tearful, tremblingtones, "It is a purse I was making for Miss Rose, ma'am; and I offeredto make another just like it for Enna; but I cannot give her this one,because there would not be time to make another before Miss Rose goesaway."

  "You _can_ not give it to her, indeed! You _will_ not, you mean; but Isay you _shall;_ and I'll see if I'm not mistress in my own house. Giveit to the child this instant; I'll not have her crying her eyes outthat you may be humored in all your whims. There are plenty ofhandsomer ones to be had in the city, and if you are too mean to makeher a present of it, I'll buy you another to-morrow."

  "But that would not be my work, and this is," replied Elsie, stillretaining the purse, loath to let it go.

  "Nonsense! what difference will that make to Miss Rose?" said Mrs.Dinsmore; and snatching it out of her hand, she gave it to Enna,saying, "There, my pet, you shall have it. Elsie is a naughty, mean,stingy girl, but she shan't plague you while your mamma's about."

  Enna cast a look of triumph at Elsie, and ran off with her prize,followed by her mother, while poor Elsie hid her face in Chloe's lapand cried bitterly.

  It required all Chloe's religion to keep down her anger and indignationat this unjust and cruel treatment of her darling, and for a fewmoments she allowed her to sob and cry without a word, only soothingher with mute caresses, not daring to trust her voice, lest her angershould find vent in words. But at length, when her feelings had grownsomewhat calmer, she said soothingly, "Nebber mind it, my poor darlin'chile. Just go to de city and buy de prettiest purse you can find, forMiss Rose."

  But Elsie shook her head sadly. "I wanted it to be my own work," shesobbed, "and now there is no time."

  "Oh! I'll tell you what, my pet," exclaimed Chloe suddenly, "dere's depurse you was aknittin' for your papa, an' dey wouldn't send it foryou; you can get dat done for de lady, and knit another for your papa,'fore he comes home."

  Elsie raised her head with a look of relief, but her face cloudedagain, as she replied, "But it is not quite done, and I haven't thebeads to finish it with, and Miss Rose goes day after to-morrow."

  "Neb
ber mind dat, darlin'," said Chloe, jumping up; "Pomp he been gwineto de city dis berry afternoon, an' we'll tell him to buy de beads, an'den you can get de purse finished 'fore to-morrow night, an' de ladydon't go till de next day, an' so it gwine all come right yet."

  "Oh! yes, that will do; dear old mammy, I'm so glad you thought of it,"said Elsie, joyfully. And rising, she went to her bureau, and unlockinga drawer, took from it a bead purse of blue and gold, quite as handsomeas the one of which she had been so ruthlessly despoiled, and rollingit up in a piece of paper, she handed it to Chloe, saying: "There,mammy, please give it to Pomp, and tell him to match the beads and thesilk exactly."

  Chloe hastened in search of Pomp, but when she found him, he insistedthat he should not have time to attend to Miss Elsie's commission anddo his other errands; and Chloe, knowing that he, in common with allthe other servants, was very fond of the little girl, felt satisfiedthat it was not merely an excuse, therefore did not urge her request.She stood a moment in great perplexity, then suddenly exclaimed, "I'llgo myself. Miss Elsie will spare me, an' I'll go right long wid you,Pomp."

  Chloe was entirely Elsie's servant, having no other business than towait upon her and take care of her clothing and her room; and thelittle girl, of course, readily gave her permission to accompany Pompand do the errand.

  But it was quite late ere Chloe returned, and the little girl spent theevening alone in her own room. She was sadly disappointed that shecould not even have her hour with Miss Rose, who was detained in theparlor with company whom she could not leave, and so the evening seemedvery long and wore away very slowly.

  But at last Chloe came, and in answer to her eager inquiries displayedher purchases with great satisfaction, saying, "Yes, darlin', I'se gotde berry t'ings you wanted."

  "Oh! yes," said Elsie, examining them with delight; "they are justright; and now I can finish it in a couple of hours."

  "Time to get ready for bed now, ain't it, pet?" asked Chloe; but beforethe little girl had time to answer, a servant knocked at the door, andhanded in a note for her. It was from Miss Allison, and, hastilytearing it open, she read:

  "DEAR ELSIE--I am very sorry that we cannot have our reading togetherthis evening; but be sure, darling, to come to me early in the morning;it will be our last opportunity, for, dear child, I have anotherdisappointment for you. I had not expected to leave before day afterto-morrow, but I have learned this evening that the vessel sails a daysooner than I had supposed, and therefore I shall be obliged to starton my journey to-morrow.

  "Your friend, ROSE."

  Elsie dropped the note on the floor and burst into tears.

  "What de matter, darlin'?" asked Chloe, anxiously.

  "Oh! Miss Rose, dear, _dear_ Miss Rose is going tomorrow," she sobbed.Then hastily drying her eyes, she said: "But I have no time for crying.I must sit up and finish the purse to-night, because there will not betime to-morrow."

  It was long past her usual hour for retiring when at last her task, orrather her labor of love, was completed. Yet she was up betimes, and atthe usual hour her gentle rap was heard at Miss Allison's door.

  Rose clasped her in her arms and kissed her tenderly.

  "O Miss Rose! _dear, dear_ Miss Rose, what shall I do without you?"sobbed the little girl. "I shall have nobody to love me now but mammy."

  "You have another and a better friend, dear Elsie, who has said, 'Iwill never leave thee, nor forsake thee,'" whispered Rose, with anothertender caress.

  "Yes," said Elsie, wiping away her tears; "and He is your Friend, too;and don't you think, Miss Rose, He will bring us together again someday?"

  "I hope so indeed, darling. We must keep very close to Him, dear Elsie;we must often commune with Him in secret; often study His word, and tryalways to do His will. Ah! dear child, if we can only have theassurance that that dear Friend is with us--that we have His presenceand His love, we shall be supremely happy, though separated from allearthly friends. I know, dear little one, that you have peculiartrials, and that you often feel the want of sympathy and love; but youmay always find them in Jesus. And now we will have our reading andprayer as usual."

  She took the little girl in her lap, and opening the Bible, read aloudthe fourteenth chapter of John, a part of that touching farewell of ourSaviour to His sorrowing disciples; and then they knelt to pray. Elsiewas only a listener, for her little heart was too full to allow her tobe anything more.

  "My poor darling!" Rose said, again taking her in her arms, "we willhope to meet again before very long. Who knows but your papa may comehome, and some day bring you to see me. It seems not unlikely, as he isso fond of traveling."

  Elsie looked up, smiling through her tears, "Oh! how delightful thatwould be," she said. "But it seems as though my papa would never come,"she added, with a deep-drawn sigh.

  "Well, darling, we can hope," Rose answered cheerfully. "And, dearchild, though we must be separated in body for a time, we can stillmeet in spirit at the mercy-seat. Shall we not do so at this hour everymorning?"

  Elsie gave a joyful assent.

  "And I shall write to you, darling," Rose said; "I will write on myjourney, if I can, so that you will get the letter in a week from thetime I leave; and then you must write to me; will you?"

  "If you won't care for the mistakes, Miss Rose. But you know I am avery little girl, and I wouldn't like to let Miss Day read my letter toyou, to correct it. But I shall be so very glad to get yours. I neverhad a letter in my life."

  "I sha'n't care for mistakes at all, dear, and no one shall see yourletters but myself," said Rose, kissing her. "I should be as sorry asyou to have Miss Day look at them."

  Elsie drew out the purse and put it in her friend's hand, saying: "Itis all my own work, dear Miss Rose; I thought you would value it morefor that."

  "And indeed I shall, darling," replied Rose, with tears of pleasure inher eyes. "It is beautiful in itself, but I shall value it ten timesmore because it is your gift, and the work of your own dear littlehands."

  But the breakfast-bell now summoned them to join the rest of thefamily, and, in a few moments after they left the table, the carriagewhich was to take Rose to the city was at the door. Rose had endearedherself to all, old and young, and they were loath to part with her.One after another bade her an affectionate farewell. Elsie was thelast. Rose pressed her tenderly to her bosom, and kissed her again andagain, saying, in a voice half choked with grief, "God bless and keepyou, my poor little darling; my dear, dear little Elsie!"

  Elsie could not speak; and the moment the carriage had rolled away withher friend, she went to her own room, and locking herself in, criedlong and bitterly. She had learned to love Rose very dearly, and tolean upon her very much; and now the parting from her, with nocertainty of ever meeting her again in this world, was the severesttrial the poor child had ever known.