“I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
As watchman to my heart.”
――SHAKSPEARE.
Mr. Travilla spent the evening at the Oaks, arriving shortly before
tea and remaining until Elsie had gone to her rooms for the night.
He noticed that his little friend was not her usual merry, happy self.
Her sweet face bore traces of tears, and as he watched her furtively
he was sure that now and then her eyes filled, and that she found it
difficult to conceal her emotion. Once or twice, too, she slipped out
of the room for a few moments; to recover control of her feelings; so
he thought.
She was very quiet, scarcely speaking at all, unless addressed, but
clung to her father even more closely than usual, her eyes often
seeking his with a wistful, pleading look, to which he responded with
a gentle caress, while his manner toward her was full of grave
tenderness.
“She has displeased him in some way (absurdly and almost tyrannically
strict as he is), and is morbidly remorseful for it,” was the
conclusion Mr. Travilla came to, and he quite longed to cheer and
comfort her.
Elsie on her part was disappointed that she had to go away for the
night without a few last minutes alone with her father. But just as
she was ready for bed he came in, took her on his knee, assured her
that he was now not in the least angry with her, and comforted her
again with sweet and appropriate texts of Scripture, telling of God’s
willingness to forgive those who truly repent of sin.
“Yes, papa,” she said, with fast falling tears. “I know Jesus has
forgiven me, but it breaks my heart to think I could so dishonor him!
He says, ‘If ye love me keep my commandments,’ and I have failed
to-day, and yet I do love him! I’m sure I do! and you too, dear papa.
Can you believe it after I have disobeyed you so?” she asked, with her
arm about his neck, her eyes, dim with tears, gazing beseechingly into
his.
“My darling, precious child, I haven’t a doubt of it!” he said,
folding her close to his heart. Then laying her in her bed, he kissed
her good-night and left her to her slumbers.
Mr. Dinsmore always kept his little daughter’s secrets even from Rose.
He thought it quite unnecessary to tell of any trouble between himself
and his child, and if Rose occasionally perceived that something was
wrong between them, she made no remark and asked no question, noticed
it in no way except by redoubling her kindness to both.
She had made the same observation that Mr. Travilla had that evening,
and drawn pretty nearly the same conclusion. Her husband had been
displeased with his little girl, but there had been a reconciliation,
and the child would soon recover her wonted cheerfulness and gayety.
Elsie did seem very much like her usual self the next morning, and
when her lessons were done joined her mamma in the parlor, bringing
some needlework with her.
Adelaide had concluded her visit to the Oaks, and she and her brother
had left a few moments before to drive over to Roselands.
So Rose and Elsie were alone together for a little while; but
presently Mr. Travilla joined them. He and Rose fell into desultory
chat, to which Elsie was an interested listener. The talk turned at
length upon engravings, and Rose spoke of a small, but very fine one,
lately bought by her husband, which Mr. Travilla had not yet seen.
“I want you to look at it,” Rose said. “Elsie dear,” turning to her
little step-daughter, “will you run to your papa’s study and bring me
his portfolio? I think it is in that.”
Elsie’s face crimsoned, and she seemed greatly confused and
embarrassed. “Mamma, I――I――please don’t ask me to,” she stammered,
then burst into tears.
Rose was greatly surprised. “What is it, dear?” she asked, with tender
concern.
“Papa――papa has――forbidden me to go there, except when――when he is
present,” sobbed the little girl, dropping her work to hide her
blushing face in her hands.
“Then never mind, dear child, I should not have asked you if I had
known that,” Rose said, in an undertone full of sympathy and
affection. “I shall go myself.”
Excusing herself to Mr. Travilla, she left the room.
He seemed scarcely to hear her excuse, so entirely was he taken up
with pitying tenderness toward the weeping, mortified, embarrassed
child.
“My dear little friend,” he said, drawing near and softly touching the
shining curls of the bowed head, “what can I do to help and comfort
you?”
“You are very kind,” she sobbed, “but no one can help me.”
“I have some influence with your papa,” he said, “and would gladly use
it in your behalf, if――if your trouble is that you have angered or
displeased him. But I know he loves you very, very dearly, and surely,
whatever you may have done, he will forgive and take you back into
favor, if you tell him you are sorry.”
“Papa is not angry with me now,” she said, wiping away her tears, and
looking up earnestly into her friend’s face, “but,” and again her face
flushed crimson and her eyes fell, while the tears rolled down her
cheeks――“oh, you would hardly believe how very, very naughty and
disobedient I was yesterday!”
“No, I don’t know how to believe it. But your papa is――”
He left the sentence unfinished; but Elsie knew intuitively his
thought――that her father was very strict and severe; and with a sudden
generous resolve to prove that he was not, she told Mr. Travilla the
whole truth, though deeply ashamed to have him know of her
wrong-doing.
“Oh, it is dreadful, to think my dear father can’t trust me!” she
sobbed, in conclusion; “but you see he was not severe with me, Mr.
Travilla. If he had given me a hard whipping beside, it wouldn’t have
been any more than I deserved.”
“A delicate, dear little girl like you!” he exclaimed. “I should never
have respected him again if he had.” But the last words were spoken so
low and indistinctly that Elsie did not catch them.
“A very bad, disobedient little girl, Mr. Travilla,” she sighed. “Oh,
I couldn’t have believed I ever would disobey papa so!”
“Do you know,” he said gently, “your remorse seems to me altogether
out of proportion to the offence――just reading a little in a forbidden
book. Why as a boy I was often guilty of far worse deeds, yet thought
myself rather a good sort of fellow after all.”
Elsie understood this remark as merely an effort to comfort her by
making light of her wrong-doing, and answered it with a grateful look.
“Now, my dear, I wouldn’t fret about it any more,” he said, smoothing
her hair with gentle, caressing hand. “I feel sure your papa will soon
trust you as fully as ever. _I_ should at this moment trust you to any
extent; and I assure you I think you the best little girl I ever
knew.”
Elsie looked up in incredulous surprise. “You are very, very kind,
sir! but papa does not think so: he knows me better.” And another tear
rolled quickly down her cheek.
“I hope,” Mr. Travilla said, meditatively, “he won’t think it
necessary to deny you the promised visit to Ion, because of this.”
“I did not know about that,” she returned, half inquiringly. “I
thought our holidays were to be over as soon as Annis comes back.”
“Yes, but we had arranged that you were to bring you books with you,
spend the mornings at your tasks, and enjoy, for the rest of the day,
whatever pleasures my mother and I might be able to provide. I think
we could make it pleasant for you.”
“Oh, I am sure of it! and I should like to go so much!” she exclaimed,
“but I don’t think papa will let me now; and I am sure I do not
deserve that he should.”
“Well, we won’t despair,” he said cheerfully. “I know he doesn’t allow
any coaxing from you, but that is not forbidden to me, and if
necessary, I shall try my powers of persuasion.”
A call to the nursery had detained Rose, thus giving them time for
this little talk; but now she was returning; they heard her light step
coming down the hall, her voice and that of old Mr. Dinsmore in
conversation.
“Grandpa! Oh, please excuse me, Mr. Travilla! I don’t want him to see
that――that――I’ve been crying,” Elsie exclaimed, and slipped out of the
room by one door as they entered by another.
Her eyes were so full of tears that she did not see that her father
was near until he had her in his arms.
“What is the matter?” he asked tenderly.
Her only answer was a fresh burst of tears and sobs.
They were near the door of her boudoir. He took her hand, led her in
there, sat down on a sofa and drew her to his knee.
“Tell me what ails you,” he said, and she knew by his tone that he
would have the whole story; there was no escape for her; though,
indeed, she was now and always ready enough to pour out all her griefs
into his sympathizing ear.
So she told of her mamma’s request and the confession it had forced
from her, that she was forbidden to go to his study in his absence;
ending with, “O papa, please, please remove the prohibition and punish
me some other way! won’t you, dear papa?”
“What other way?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, hiding her face on his shoulder.
“Shall I lock you up for a week on bread and water?”
“Oh, no, no! that would be worse; everybody would know I had been very
naughty. But I――I believe I’d almost rather you――would whip me; for
nobody need know about it, and it would be all over in a few minutes.”
“I shall not do that,” he said, very decidedly, and in a moved tone,
pressing her closer to his breast and touching his lips to her cheek;
“how could I? You must bear the punishment I have decreed, but you
shall have no other; and I hope it will not be long before I can trust
you as fully as ever.”
“Papa, can’t you do it now?” she asked imploringly; “won’t you remove
your prohibition?”
“No, not now; not for days or weeks.”
Then she wept very bitterly.
“My little daughter,” he said, tenderly wiping away her tears, and
smoothing the hair back from her heated brow, “I am very, very sorry
for you; but do you feel so sure of your strength to resist the
temptation before which you fell yesterday, that you wish me to expose
you to it again?”
“No, papa, oh, no!” she said, with a look of new comprehension in the
eyes she lifted to his; “but is that why you refuse?”
“Yes, daughter; for I have not the least doubt that you fully intend
to be obedient to me at all times, whether I am present or absent.”
“O papa, thank you! thank you very much!” she said, putting her arms
about his neck, while her face grew almost bright. “I thought your
prohibition meant doubt that I intended to be good and obedient, but
now I don’t want it removed; because――because I――am not sure I could
withstand temptation,” she added, humbly, a vivid blush suffusing her
face.
That evening Mr. Dinsmore told Elsie of the intended visit to Ion,
adding that it was to be made the next week.
“And will you let me go after I have been so naughty, papa?” she
asked, in glad surprise.
“Have I ever punished you twice for the same fault?” he inquired.
“No, sir; oh, no!”
“Then why should you expect it in this instance?”
“I don’t know, papa, only that I――I feel that I am so very, very
undeserving of such a pleasure,” she murmured, hanging her head and
blushing painfully.
“That question is not under consideration,” he said, gently lifting
the downcast face that he might kiss the sweet lips again and again;
“we all have very many blessings that we do not deserve.”