Название: COMING OF AGE COLLECTION - Martha Finley Edition (Timeless Children Classics For Young Girls)
Автор: Finley Martha
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Книги для детей: прочее
isbn: 9788075832337
isbn:
"I shall take the book from you for a few days; I hope that will be punishment enough to make you pay better attention to my commands in future," he said very gravely.
"Dear papa how kind you are! I am sure I deserve a great deal worse punishment than that," she exclaimed, raising her head and looking up gratefully and lovingly into his face, "but I am very, very sorry for my disobedience; will you please forgive me?"
"I will, daughter," and he bent down and kissed her lips.
"Now go," he said, "and get your cloak and hood. I think we will still have time for a little stroll through the grounds before dark."
Elsie had very little to say during their walk, but moved silently along by her father's side, with her hand clasped in his; and he, too, seemed unusually abstracted.
It was quite dusk when they entered the house again, and when the little girl returned to the study, after Chloe had taken off her wrappings, she found her father seated in an easy-chair, drawn up on one side of a bright wood fire that was blazing and crackling on the hearth.
Elsie dearly loved the twilight hour, and it was one of her greatest pleasures to climb upon her father's knee and sit there talking or singing, or perhaps, oftener, just laying her head down on his breast and watching the play of the fire-light on the carpet, or the leaping of the flame hither and thither.
Mr. Dinsmore sat leaning back in his chair, apparently in deep thought, and did not hear Elsie's light step.
She paused for one instant in the doorway, casting a wistful, longing look at him, then, with a little sigh, walked softly to the other side of the fire-place, and seated herself in her little rocking-chair.
For several minutes she sat very quietly gazing into the fire, her little face wearing a very sober, thoughtful look. But she was startled out of her reverie by the sound of her father's voice.
"Why am I not to have my little girl on my knee to-night?" he was asking.
She rose instantly, in a quick, eager way, and ran to him.
"If you prefer the rocking-chair, stay there, by all means," he said.
But she had already climbed to her accustomed seat, and, twining her arms around his neck, she laid her cheek to his, saying, "No, indeed, papa; you know I don't like the rocking-chair half so well as your knee; so please let me stay here."
"Why did you not come at first, then?" he asked in a playful tone.
"Because I was afraid, papa," she whispered,
"Afraid!" he repeated, with an accent of surprise, and looking as if he felt a little hurt.
"Yes, papa," she answered in a low tone, "because I have been so very naughty this afternoon that I know I don't deserve to come."
"Did you not hear me say I forgave you?" he asked.
"Yes, papa."
"Very well, then, if you are forgiven you are taken back into favor, just as if you had not transgressed; and if you had quite believed me, you would have come to me at once, and claimed a daughter's privilege, as usual," he said very gravely.
"I do believe you, papa; I know you always speak the truth and mean just what you say," she replied in half-tearful tones, "but I know I don't deserve a place on your knee to-night."
"What you deserve is not the question at present; we are talking about what you can have, whether you deserve it or not.
"Ah!" he continued in a low, musing tone, more as if thinking aloud than speaking to her, "just so it is with us all in reference to our Heavenly Father's forgiveness; when he offers us a full and free pardon of all our offences, and adoption into his family, we don't more than half believe him, but still go about groaning under the burden of our sins, and afraid to claim the privileges of children.
"It hurts and displeases me when my child doubts my word, and yet how often I dishonor my Father by doubting his. 'He that believeth not God, maketh him a liar.' 'Without faith it is impossible to please him.'"
He relapsed into silence, and for some moments neither of them spoke.
He was passing his hand caressingly over her hair, and she resting in his arms and gazing thoughtfully into the fire.
"What is my little one thinking of?" he asked at last.
"I was thinking what a very naughty girl I have been this afternoon, and what a dear, kind papa I have," she said, looking up lovingly into his face. "You were so kind, papa, not to punish me as I deserved. I was afraid you would send me directly to bed, and I should miss my pleasant evening with you."
"I hope, my darling," he answered gently, "that you do not think, when I punish you, it is from anything like a feeling of revenge, or because I take pleasure in giving you pain? Not at all. I do it for your own good—and in this instance, as I thought you were sorry enough for having grieved and displeased me to keep you from repeating the offence, I did not consider any further punishment necessary. But perhaps I was mistaken, and it was only fear of punishment that caused your tears," he added, looking keenly at her.
"Oh, no, papa! no indeed!" she exclaimed earnestly, the tears rushing into her eyes again; "it is worse than any punishment to know that I have grieved and displeased you, because I love you so very, very dearly!" and the little arm crept round his neck again, and the soft cheek was laid to his.
"I know it, darling," he said, "I fully believe that you would prefer any physical suffering to the pain of my displeasure."
"Papa," she said, after a few moments' silence, "I want to tell you something."
"Well, daughter, I am ready to listen," he answered pleasantly; "what is it?"
"I was looking in my desk to-day, papa, for a letter that I wrote to you the evening before I was taken sick, and I couldn't find it. Did Aunt Adelaide give it to you?"
"Yes, dear, I have it, and one of your curls," he said, pressing her closer to him.
"Yes, papa, that was what I wanted to tell you about. I am afraid I was very naughty to cut it off after all you said about it last Christmas; but everything was so strange that night—it seems like a dreadful dream to me now. I don't think I was quite in my right mind sometimes, and I thought I was going to die, and something seemed to tell me that you would want some of my hair when I was gone, and that nobody would save it for you; and so I cut it off myself. You do not mind about it, papa, dear, do you? You don't think it was very naughty in me?" she asked anxiously.
"No, darling, no; it was very right and kind, and much more than I deserved," he answered with emotion.
"I am glad you are not angry, papa," she said in a relieved tone, "and, indeed, I did not mean to be naughty or disobedient."
John was just bringing in the lights, and Mr. Dinsmore took a note from his pocket, saying, "I will read this to you, daughter, as it concerns you as well as myself."
It was an invitation from Mrs. Howard—the mother of Elsie's friend, Caroline—to Mr. Dinsmore and his little girl, to come and spend the Christmas holidays СКАЧАТЬ