MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – Timeless Children Classics & Other Novels. Finley Martha

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СКАЧАТЬ to her, "is this so?"

      "Yes, papa."

      "And have you ever left your desk unlocked, or the key lying about?"

      "No, papa. I am quite certain I have not," she answered unhesitatingly, though her voice trembled, and she grey very pale.

      "Very well, then, I am quite certain you have told me a falsehood, since it is evident this must have been your work. Elsie, I can forgive anything but falsehood, but that I never will forgive. Come with me. I shall teach you to speak the truth to me at least, if to no one else," and taking her hand again, he led, or rather dragged, her from the room, for he was terribly angry, his face fairly pale with passion.

      Lora came in while he was speaking and, certain that Elsie would never be caught in a falsehood, her eye quickly sought Arthur's desk.

      He was sitting there with a very guilty countenance.

      She hastily crossed the room, and speaking in a low tone, said, "Arthur, you have had a hand in this business I very well know; now confess it quickly, or Horace will half kill Elsie."

      "You don't know anything about it," said he doggedly.

      "Yes, I do," she answered; "and if you do not speak out at once, I shall save Elsie, and find means to prove your guilt afterwards; so you had much better confess."

      "Go away," he exclaimed angrily, "I have nothing to confess."

      Seeing it was useless to try to move him, Lora turned away and hurried to Horace's room, which, in her haste, she entered without knocking, he having fortunately neglected to fasten the door. She was just in time; he had a small riding whip in his hand, and Elsie stood beside him pale as death, too much frightened even to cry, and trembling so that she could scarcely stand.

      He turned an angry glance on his sister as she entered; but taking no notice of it, she exclaimed eagerly, "Horace, don't punish Elsie, for I am certain she is innocent."

      He laid down the whip asking, "How do you know it? what proof have you? I shall be very glad to be convinced," he added, his countenance relaxing somewhat in its stern and angry expression.

      "In the first place," replied his sister, "there is Elsie's established character for truthfulness—in all the time she has been with us, we have ever found her perfectly truthful in word and deed. And then, Horace, what motive could she have had for spoiling her book, knowing as she did that certain punishment would follow? Besides, I am sure Arthur is at the bottom of this, for though he will not acknowledge, he does not deny it. Ah! yes, and now I recollect, I saw and examined Elsie's book only yesterday, and it was then quite free from blots."

      A great change had come over her brother's countenance while she was speaking.

      "Thank you, Lora," he said, cordially, as soon as she had done, "you have quite convinced me, and saved me from punishing Elsie as unjustly as severely. That last assurance I consider quite sufficient of itself to establish her innocence."

      Lora turned and went out feeling very happy, and as she closed the door, Elsie's papa took her in his arms, saying in loving, tender tones, "My poor little daughter! my own darling child! I have been cruelly unjust to you, have I not?"

      "Dear papa, you thought I deserved it," she said, with a burst of tears and sobs, throwing her arms around his neck, and laying her head on his breast.

      "Do you love me, Elsie, dearest?" he asked, folding her closer to his heart.

      "Ah! so very, very much! better than all the world beside. O papa! if you would only love me." The last word was almost a sob.

      "I do, my darling, my own precious child," he said, caressing her again and again. "I do love my little girl, although I may at times seem cold and stern; and I am more thankful than words can express that I have been saved from punishing her unjustly. I could never forgive myself if I had done it. I would rather have lost half I am worth; ah! I fear it would have turned all her love for me into hatred; and justly, too."

      "No, papa, oh! no, no; nothing could ever do that!" and the little arms were clasped closer and closer about his neck, and the tears again fell like rain, as she timidly pressed her quivering lips to his cheek.

      "There, there daughter! don't cry any more; we will try to forget all about it, and talk of something else," he said soothingly. "Elsie, dear, your Aunt Adelaide thinks perhaps you were not so very much to blame the other day; and now I want you to tell me all the circumstances; for though I should be very sorry to encourage you to find fault with your teacher, I am by no means willing to have you abused."

      "Please, papa, don't ask me," she begged. "Aunt Lora was there, and she will tell you about it."

      "No, Elsie," he said, very decidedly; "I want the story from you; and remember, I want every word that passed between you and Miss Day, as far as you can possibly recall it."

      Seeing that he was determined, Elsie obeyed him, though with evident reluctance, and striving to put Miss Day's conduct in as favorable a light as consistent with truth, while she by no means extenuated her own; yet her father listened with feelings of strong indignation.

      "Elsie," he said when she had done, "if I had known all this at the time, I should not have punished you at all. Why did you not tell me, my daughter, how you have been ill treated and provoked?"

      "O papa! I could not; you know you did not ask me."

      "I did ask you if it was true that you contradicted her, did I not?"

      "Yes, papa, and it was true."

      "You ought to have told me the whole story though; but I see how it was—I frightened you by my sternness. Well, daughter," he added, kissing her tenderly, "I shall endeavor to be less stern in future, and you must try to be less timid and more at your ease with me."

      "I will, papa," she replied meekly; "but indeed I cannot help feeling frightened when you are angry with me."

      Mr. Dinsmore sat there a long time with his little daughter on his knee, caressing her more tenderly than ever before; and Elsie was very happy, and talked more freely to him than she had ever done, telling him of her joys and her sorrows; how dearly she had loved Miss Allison—what happy hours they had spent together in studying the Bible and in prayer—how grieved she was when her friend went away—and how intensely she enjoyed the little letter now and then received from her; and he listened to it all, apparently both pleased and interested, encouraging her to go on by an occasional question or a word of assent or approval.

      "What is this, Elsie?" he asked, taking hold of the chain she always wore around her neck, and drawing the miniature from her bosom.

      But as he touched the spring the case flew open, revealing the sweet, girlish face, it needed not Elsie's low murmured "Mamma" to tell him who that lovely lady was.

      He gazed upon it with emotion, carried back in memory to the time when for a few short months she had been his own most cherished treasure. Then, looking from it to his child, he murmured, "Yes, she is very like—the same features, the same expression, complexion, hair and all—will be the very counterpart of her if she lives."

      "Dear papa, am I like mamma?" asked Elsie, who had caught a part of his words.

      "Yes, darling, very much indeed, СКАЧАТЬ