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

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      But her father interfered.

      "No, Pomp," he said, "bring it to me; and remember, in future, that I am to receive all Miss Elsie's letters."

      Elsie relinquished it instantly, without a word of remonstrance, but her heart was so full that she could not eat another morsel; and in spite of all her efforts the tears would come into her eyes, as she saw her father deliberately open and read the letter, and then refold and put it into his pocket. He looked at her as he did so, and seeing the tears rolling down her cheeks, sternly bade her leave the room,

      She obeyed, feeling more angry and rebellious toward him than she ever had before. It seemed so cruel and unjust to deprive her of her own letters; one of Miss Rose's—as she knew it must be, for she had no other correspondent—which never contained anything but what was good, and kind, and comforting. They were always a great treat to the little girl, and she had been longer than usual without one, and had been looking longingly for it every day for several weeks past; for sad and lonely as her days now were, she felt very keenly the need of her friend's sympathy and love; and now to have this letter taken from her just as she laid her hand upon it, seemed a disappointment almost too great to be endured. She had a hard struggle with herself before she could put away entirely her feelings of anger and impatience.

      "Oh! this is not honoring papa," she said to herself; "he may have good reasons for what he has done; and as I belong to him, he certainly has a sort of right to everything that is mine. I will try to be submissive, and wait patiently until he sees fit to give me my letter, as perhaps he will, some time."

      All the morning the thought of her letter was scarcely out of her mind, and as soon as she was released from school duties, and dressed for dinner, she went down to the drawing-room, hoping that her father might be there, and that he would give it to her.

      But he was not in, and when he came, brought a number of strangers with him, who remained until after tea; so that all the afternoon passed away without affording her an opportunity to speak to him. But, to her great joy, the visitors all left early in the evening, excepting a very mild, pleasant-looking, elderly gentleman, who had settled himself in the portico, with Enna on his knees.

      Elsie was watching her fathers movements, and was not sorry to see him, after the departure of his guests, return to the drawing-room, and take up the evening paper.

      No one else was at that end of the room, so now, at last, she might speak to him without fear of being overheard. She was glad, too, that his back was towards her, for she had grown very timid about approaching him of late. She stole softly up to the back of his chair, and stood there for some moments without speaking; her heart beat so fast with mingled hope and fear, that it seemed impossible to command her voice.

      But at last, coming to his side, she said, in a tone so low and tremulous as to be almost inaudible, "Papa."

      "Well, Elsie, what do you want?" he asked, with his eyes still on the paper.

      "Dear papa, I do so want to see Miss Rose's letter; won't you please give it to me?"

      She waited a moment for a reply; then asked again, "May I not have it, papa?"

      "Yes, Elsie, you may have that, and everything else you want, just as soon as you show yourself a submissive, obedient child."

      Tears gathered in Elsie's eyes, but she resolutely forced them back, and made one more appeal. "Dear papa," she said, in pleading, tearful tones, "you don't know how I have looked and longed for that letter; and I do want it so very much; won't you let me see it just for a few moments?"

      "You have your answer, Elsie," he said coldly; "and it is the only one I have to give you."

      Elsie turned and walked away, silently crying as she went.

      But ere she had reached the door he called her back, and looking sternly at her, as she again stood trembling and weeping at his side, "Remember," he said, "that from this time forth, I forbid you to write or receive any letters which do not pass through my hands, and I shall not allow you to correspond with Miss Allison, or any one else, indeed, until you become a more dutiful child."

      "Oh, papa! what will Miss Allison think if I don't answer her letter?" exclaimed Elsie, weeping bitterly.

      "I shall wait a few weeks," he said, "to see if you are going to be a better girl, and then, if you remain stubborn, I shall write to her myself, and tell her that I have stopped the correspondence, and my reasons for doing so."

      "Oh, papa! dear papa! please don't do that!" cried the little girl in great distress. "I am afraid if you do she will never love me any more, for she will think me such a very bad child."

      "If she does, she will only have a just opinion of you," replied her father coldly; "and all your friends will soon cease to love you, if you continue to show such a wilful temper; my patience is almost worn out, Elsie, and I shall try some very severe measures before long, unless you see proper to submit. Go now to your own room; I do not wish to see you again to-night."

      "Good-night, papa," sobbed the little girl, as she turned to obey him.

      "Elsie, my daughter," he said, suddenly seizing her hand, and drawing her to his side, "why will you not give up this strange wilfulness, and let your papa have his own darling again? I love you dearly, my child, and it pains me more than I can express to see you so unhappy," he added, gently pushing back the curls from the little tear-stained face upturned to his.

      His tone had all the old fondness, and Elsie's heart thrilled at the very sound; his look, too, was tender and affectionate, and throwing down his paper he lifted her to his knee, and passed his arm around her waist.

      Elsie laid her head against his breast, as was her wont before their unhappy estrangement, while he passed his hand caressingly over her curls.

      "Speak, my daughter," he said in a low tone, full of tenderness; "speak, and tell papa that he has his own dutiful little daughter again. His heart aches to receive her; must he do without her still?"

      The temptation to yield was very strong. She loved him, oh, how dearly! Could she bear to go on making him unhappy? And it was such rest—such joy—thus once more to feel herself folded to his heart, and hear his dear voice speaking to her in loving, tender tones. Can it be wondered at that for a moment Elsie wavered? On the one hand she saw her father's fond affection, indulgent kindness, and loving caresses; on the other, banishment from his love, perhaps from home, cold, stern, harsh words and looks; and what more might be meant by the very severe measures threatened, she trembled to think.

      For a moment she was silent, for a mighty struggle was going on in her heart. It was hard, very hard, to give up her father's love. But the love of Jesus!—ah, that was more precious still!

      The struggle was past.

      "Papa," she said, raising an earnest, tearful little face to his, and speaking in tones tremulous with emotion, "dear, dear papa, I do love you so very, very much, and I do want to be to you a good, obedient child; but, papa, Jesus says, 'He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me,' and I must love Jesus best, and keep his commandments always. But you bid me say that I am sorry I refused to break them; and that I will yield implicit obedience to you, even though you should command me to disobey him. Oh, papa, I cannot do that, even though you should never love me again; even though you should put me to death."

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