"Oh! yes, sir; very _very_ much; even better than I love you, my own
dear papa."
"How do you know?" he asked, looking keenly into her face.
"Just as I know that I love you, papa, or any one else," she replied,
lifting her eyes to his face in evident surprise at the strangeness of
the question.
"Ah, papa," she added in her own sweet, simple way, "I do so love to
talk of Jesus; to tell Him all my troubles, and ask Him to forgive my
sins and make me holy; and then it is so sweet to know that He loves
me, and will _always_ love me, even if no one else does."
He kissed her very gravely, and set her down, saying, "Go now, my
daughter, and prepare for dinner; it is almost time for the bell."
"You are not displeased, papa?" she inquired, looking up anxiously into
his face.
"No, darling, not at all," he replied, stroking her hair. "Shall I ride
with my little girl this afternoon?"
"Oh papa! do you really mean it? I shall be so glad!" she exclaimed
joyfully.
"Very well, then," he said, "it is settled. But go now; there is the
bell. No, stay!" he added quickly, as she turned to obey; "think a
moment and tell me where you put the key of your desk yesterday, for it
must have been then the mischief was done. Had you it with you when you
rode out?"
Suddenly Elsie's face flushed, and she exclaimed Eagerly, "Ah! I
remember now! I left it on the mantelpiece, papa, and--"
But here she paused, as if sorry she had said so much.
"And what?" he asked.
"I think I had better not say it, papa! I'm afraid I _ought_ not, for I
don't really _know_ anything, and it seems so wrong to suspect people."
"You need not express any suspicions," said her father; "I do not wish
you to do so; but I must insist upon having all the facts you can
furnish me with. Was Aunt Chloe in your room all the time you were
away?"
"No, sir; she told me she went down to the kitchen directly after I
left, and did not come up again until after I returned."
"Very well; do you know whether any one else entered the room during
your absence?"
"I do not _know_, papa, but I _think_ Arthur must have been in, because
when I came home I found him reading a book which I had left lying on
the mantel-piece," she answered in a low, reluctant tone.
"Ah, ha! that is just it! I see it all now," he exclaimed, with a
satisfied nod. "There, that will do, Elsie; go now and make haste down
to your dinner."
But Elsie lingered, and, in answer to a look of kind inquiry from her
father, said coaxingly, "Please, papa, don't be very angry with him. I
think he did not know how much I cared about my book."
"You are very forgiving, Elsie; but go, child, I shall not abuse him,"
Mr. Dinsmore answered, with an imperative gesture, and the little girl
hurried from the room.
It happened that just at this time the elder Mr. Dinsmore and his wife
were paying a visit to some friends in the city, and thus Elsie's papa
had been left head of the house for the time. Arthur, knowing this to
be the state of affairs, and that though his father was expected to
return that evening, his mother would be absent for some days, was
beginning to be a good deal fearful of the consequences of his
misconduct, and not without reason, for his brother's wrath was now
fully aroused, and he was determined that the boy should not on this
occasion escape the penalty of his misdeeds.
Arthur was already in the dining-room when Mr. Dinsmore came down.
"Arthur," said he, "I wish you to step into the library a moment; I
have something to say to you."
"I don't want to hear it," muttered the boy, with a dogged look, and
standing perfectly still.
"I dare say not, sir; but that makes no difference," replied his
brother. "Walk into the library at once."
Arthur returned a scowl of defiance, muttering almost under his breath,
"I'll do as I please about that;" but cowed by his brother's determined
look and manner, he slowly and reluctantly obeyed.
"Now, sir," said Mr. Dinsmore, when he had him fairly in the room, and
had closed the door behind them, "I wish to know how you came to meddle
with Elsie's copy-book."
"I didn't," was the angry rejoinder.
"Take care, sir; I know all about it," said Mr. Dinsmore, in a warning
tone; "it is useless for you to deny it. Yesterday, while Elsie was out
and Aunt Chloe in the kitchen, you went to her room, took the key of
her desk from the mantel-piece where she had left it, went to the
school-room and did the mischief, hoping to get her into trouble
thereby, and then relocking the desk and returning the key to its
proper place, thought you had escaped detection; and I was very near
giving my poor, innocent little girl the whipping you so richly
deserve."
Arthur looked up in astonishment.
"Who told you?" he asked; "nobody saw me;" then, catching himself, said
hastily, "I tell you I didn't do it. I don't know anything about it."
"Will you dare to tell me such a falsehood as that again?" exclaimed
Mr. Dinsmore, angrily, taking him by the collar and shaking him roughly.
"Let me alone now," whined the culprit. "I want my dinner, I say."
"You'll get no dinner to-day, I can tell you," replied his brother. "I
am going to lock you into your bedroom, and keep you there until your
father comes home; and then if _he_ doesn't give you the flogging you
deserve, _I_ will; for I intend you shall have your deserts for once in
your life. I know that all this is in revenge for Elsie's forced
testimony in the affair of the watch, and I gave you fair warning then
that I would see to it that any attempt to abuse my child should
receive its just reward."
He took the boy by the arm as he spoke, to lead him from the room.
At first Arthur seemed disposed to resist; but soon, seeing how useless
it was to contend against such odds, he resigned himself to his fate,
saying sullenly, "You wouldn't treat me this way if mamma was at home."
"She is not, however, as it happens, though I can tell you that even
_she_ could not save you now," replied his brother, as he opened the
bedroom door, and pushing him in, locked it upon him, and put the key
in his pocket.
Mr. Horace Dinsmore had almost unbounded influence over his father, who
was very proud of him; the old gentleman also utterly despised
everything mean and underhanded, and upon being made acquainted by
Horace with Arthur's misdemeanors he inflicted upon him as severe a
punishment as any one could have desired.