MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – 35+ Novels in One Volume (Including The Complete Elsie Dinsmore Series & Mildred Keith Collection). Finley Martha

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СКАЧАТЬ she was soon lost to everything about her in the deep interest with which she was following Ellen Montgomery through her troubles and trials.

      She was loath to lay the book aside when at the usual hour—a quarter before nine—the bell rang for prayers. She hardly heeded the summons till her papa laid his hand on her shoulder, saying, "Come, daughter, you must not be left behind."

      She started up then, hastily closing the book, and followed the others to the dining room, where the servants were already assembled to take part in the family devotions.

      Mr. Travilla went away immediately after and now it was Elsie's bed-time. Her father reminded her of it as, on coming back from seeing his friend to the door, he found her again poring over the book.

      "Oh, papa, it is so interesting! could you let me finish this chapter?" she asked with a very entreating look up into his face as he stood at her side.

      "I suppose I could if I should make a great effort," he answered laughingly. "Yes, you may, for once, but don't expect always to be allowed to do so."

      "No, sir, oh, no. Thank you, sir."

      "Well, have you come to a good stopping-place?" he asked, as she presently closed the book and put it aside with a slight sigh.

      "No, sir, it is just as bad a one as the other. Papa, I wish I was grown up enough to read another hour before going to bed."

      "I don't," he said, drawing her to a seat upon his knee, and passing his arm about her waist, "I'm not ready to part with my little girl yet."

      "Wouldn't a fine young lady daughter be just as good or better?" she asked, giving him a hug.

      "No, not now, some of these days I may think so."

      "But mayn't I stay up and read till ten to-night?"

      He shook his head. "Till half-past nine, then?"

      "No, not even a till quarter past. Ah, it is that now," he added, consulting his watch.

      "You must say good-night and go. Early hours and plenty of sleep for my little girl, that she may grow up to healthful, vigorous womanhood, capable of enjoying life and being very useful in the church and the world." He kissed her with grave tenderness as he spoke.

      "Good-night then, you dear father," she said, returning the caress. "I know you would indulge me if you thought it for my good."

      "Indeed I would, pet. Would it help to reconcile you to the denial of your wish to know that I shall be reading the book, and probably enjoying it as much as you would?"

      "Ah yes, indeed, papa! it is a real pleasure to resign it to you," she answered with a look of delight. "It's just the nicest story! at least as far as I've read. Read it aloud to mamma, won't you?"

      "Yes, if she wishes to hear it. Now away with you to your room and your bed."

      Only waiting to bid her mamma an affectionate good-night, Elsie obeyed, leaving the room with a light step, and a cheerful, happy face.

      "Dear unselfish child!" her father said, looking after her.

      "She is that indeed," said Rose. "How happy, shall I be if Horace grows up to be as good and lovable."

      Elsie was a fearless horsewoman, accustomed to the saddle from her very early years. Thus Arthur's wanton attack upon her pony had failed to give her nerves the severe shock it might have caused to those of most young girls of her age. Her feeling was more of excitement, and of indignation at the uncalled-for cruelty to a dumb animal, especially her own pet horse, than of fright at the danger to herself. But she well knew that the latter was what her father would think of first, and that he would be very angry with Arthur; therefore she had tried, and successfully, to control herself and suppress all signs of agitation on meeting him upon her return.

      She felt glad now as the affair recurred to her recollection while preparing for the night's rest, that she had been able to do so. For a moment she questioned with herself whether she was quite right to have this concealment from her father, but quickly decided that she was. Had the wrong-doing been her own—that would have made it altogether another matter.

      She was shocked at Arthur's wickedness, troubled and anxious about his future, but freely forgave his crime against her pony and herself, and mingled with her nightly petitions an earnest prayer for his conversion, and his welfare temporal and spiritual.

      Chapter VI

       Table of Contents

      O love! thou sternly dost thy power maintain,

       And wilt not bear a rival in thy reign.

      —DRYDEN.

      It was the middle of the forenoon, and Elsie in her own pretty little sitting room was busied with her books; so deep in study indeed, that she never noticed a slight girlish figure as it glided in at the glass doors opening upon the lawn, to-day set wide to admit the air coming fresh and cool with a faint odor of the far-off sea, pleasantly mingling with that of the flowers in the garden, on the other side of the house.

      "Buried alive in her books! Dear me! what a perfect paragon of industry you are," cried the intruder in a lively tone. "I wish you would imbue me with some of your love of study."

      "Why, Lucy Carrington! how did you get here?" and Elsie pushed her books away, rose hastily and greeted her friend with an affectionate embrace.

      "How? I came in through yonder door, miss; after riding my pony from Ashlands to the front entrance of this mansion," replied Lucy, courtesying low in mock reverence. "I hope your ladyship will excuse the liberty I have taken in venturing uninvited into your sanctum."

      "Provided your repentance is deep and sincere," returned Elsie in the same jesting tone.

      "Certainly, I solemnly pledge myself never to do it again till the next time."

      "Sit down, won't you?" and Elsie pushed forward a low rocking chair. "It's so pleasant to see you. But if I had thought about it at all I should have supposed you were at home, and as busy over books and lessons as I."

      "No; my respected governess, Miss Warren, not feeling very well, has taken a week's holiday, and left me to do the same. Fancy my afflicted state at the thought of laying aside my beloved books for seven or eight whole days."

      "You poor creature! how I pity you," said Elsie, laughing; "suppose you stay here and share the instructions of my tutor; I have no doubt I could persuade him to receive you as a pupil."

      "Horrors! I'm much obliged, very much, but I should die of fright the first time I had to recite. There, I declare I'm growing poetical, talking in rhyme all the time."

      "Let mammy take your hat and scarf," said Elsie. "You'll stay and spend the day with me, won't you?"

      "Thank you, no; I came to carry you off to Ashlands to spend a week. Will you come?"

      "I should like to, dearly well, if papa gives permission."

      "Well, run and ask him."

      "I СКАЧАТЬ