The Novels of Faith – Premium 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha

didn't send home my bracelet last night?" exclaimed Caroline Howard. "I have just been telling Lucy about it. I think that it was such a shame for them to disappoint me, for I wanted to have it on the tree."

      "I am sorry you were disappointed, Carry, but perhaps it will come to-day," Elsie answered in a sympathizing tone. And then she showed the new book, which she still held in her hand.

      They spent some time in examining it, talking about and admiring the pictures, and then went out for a walk.

      "Has papa come in yet, mammy?" was Elsie's first question on returning.

      "Yes, darlin', I tink he's in the drawin'-room dis berry minute," Chloe answered, as she took off the little girl's hat, and carefully smoothed her hair.

      "There, there! mammy, won't that do now? I'm in a little bit of a hurry," Elsie said with a merry little laugh, as she slipped playfully from under her nurse's hand, and ran down-stairs.

      But she was doomed to disappointment for the present, for her papa was seated on the sofa, beside Miss Stevens, talking to her; and so she must wait a little longer. At last, however, he rose, went to the other side of the room, and stood a moment looking out of the window.

      Then Elsie hastened to take her book from a table, where she had laid it, and going up to him, said, "Papa!"

      He turned round instantly, asking in a pleasant tone, "Well, daughter, what is it?"

      She put the book into his hand, saying eagerly, "It is a Christmas gift from Miss Stevens, papa; will you let me read it?"

      He did not answer immediately, but turned over the leaves, glancing rapidly over page after page, but not too rapidly to be able to form a pretty correct idea of the contents.

      "No, daughter," he said, handing it back to her, "you must content yourself with looking at the pictures; they are by far the best part; the stories are very unsuitable for a little girl of your age, and would, indeed, be unprofitable reading for any one."

      She looked a little disappointed.

      "I am glad I can trust my little daughter, and feel certain that she will not disobey me," he said, smiling kindly on her, and patting her cheek.

      She answered him with a bright, happy look, full of confiding affection, laid the book await without a murmur, and left the room—her father's eyes following her with a fond, loving glance.

      Miss Stevens, who had watched them both closely during this little scene, bit her lips with vexation at the result of her manoeuvre.

      She had come to Roselands with the fixed determination to lay siege to Mr. Horace Dinsmore's heart, and flattering and petting his little daughter was one of her modes of attack; but his decided disapproval of her present, she perceived, did not augur well for the success of her schemes. She was by no means in despair, however, for she had great confidence in the power of her own personal attractions, being really tolerably pretty, and considering herself a great beauty, as well as very highly accomplished.

      As Elsie ran out into the hall, she found herself suddenly caught in Mr. Travilla's arms.

      "'A merry Christmas and a happy New Year!' little Elsie," he said, kissing her on both cheeks. "Now I have caught you figuratively and literally, my little lady, so what are you going to give me, eh?"

      "Indeed, sir, I think you've helped yourself to the only thing I have to give at present," she answered with a merry silvery laugh.

      "Nay, give me one, little lady," said he, "one such hug and kiss as I dare say your father gets half-a-dozen times in a day."

      She gave it very heartily.

      "Ah! I wish you were ten years older," he said as he set her down.

      "If I had been, you wouldn't have got the kiss," she replied, smiling archly.

      "Now, it's my turn," he said, taking something from his pocket.

      "I expected you'd catch me, and so thought it best to come prepared."

      He took her hand, as he spoke, and placed a beautiful little gold thimble on her finger. "There, that's to encourage you in industry."

      "Thank you, sir; oh! it's a little beauty! I must run and show it to papa. But I must not forget my politeness," she added, hastily throwing open the drawing-room door. "Come in, Mr. Travilla."

      She waited quietly until the usual greetings were exchanged, then went up to her father and showed her new gift.

      He quite entered into her pleasure, and remarked, with a glance at Miss Stevens, "that her friends were very kind."

      The lady's hopes rose. He was then pleased with her attention to his child, even though he did not altogether approve her choice of a gift.

      There was a large party to dinner that day, and the children came down to the dessert. Miss Stevens, who had contrived to be seated next to Mr. Dinsmore, made an effort, on the entrance of the juveniles, to have Elsie placed on her other side; but Mr. Travilla was too quick for her, and had his young favorite on his knee before she could gain her attention.

      The lady was disappointed, and Elsie herself only half satisfied; but the two gentlemen, who thoroughly understood Miss Stevens and saw through all her manoeuvres, exchanged glances of amusement and satisfaction.

      After dinner Mr. Travilla invited Elsie, Carry, Lucy, and Mary, to take a ride in his carriage, which invitation was joyfully accepted by all—Mr. Dinsmore giving a ready consent to Elsie's request to be permitted to go.

      They had a very merry time, for Mr. Travilla quite laid himself out for their entertainment, and no one knew better than he how to amuse ladies of their age.

      It was nearly dark when they returned, and Elsie went at once to her room to be dressed for the evening. But she found it unoccupied—Aunt Chloe, as it afterward appeared, having gone down to the quarter to carry some of the little girl's gifts to one or two who were too old and feeble to come up to the house to receive them.

      Elsie rang the bell, waited a little, and then, feeling impatient to be dressed, ran down to the kitchen to see what had become of her nurse.

      A very animated discussion was going on there, just at that moment, between the cook and two or three of her sable companions, and the first words that reached the child's ears, as she stood on the threshold, were, "I tell you, you ole darkie, you dunno nuffin' 'bout it! Massa Horace gwine marry dat bit ob paint an' finery! no such ting! Massa's got more sense."

      The words were spoken in a most scornful tone, and Elsie, into whose childish mind the possibility of her father's marrying again had never entered, stood spellbound with astonishment.

      But the conversation went on, the speakers quite unconscious of her vicinity.

      It was Pompey's voice that replied.

      "Ef Marse Horace don't like her, what for they been gwine ridin' ebery afternoon? will you tell me dat, darkies? an' don't dis niggah see him sit beside her mornin', noon, an' night, laughin' an' talkin' at de table an' in de parlor? an' don't she keep a kissin' little Miss Elsie, an' callin' her pretty critter, sweet critter, an' de like?"

      "She ma to our sweet little Miss Elsie! Bah! I tell you, Pomp, Marse Horace got more sense," returned the cook, indignantly.

      "Aunt Chloe don't b'lieve no such stuff," put in another voice; "she says Marse Horace couldn't put such trash in her sweet young mistis's place."

      "Aunt Chloe's a berry fine woman, no doubt," observed Pomp disdainfully, "but I reckon Marse Horace ain't gwine to infide his matermonical intentions to her; and I consider it quite consequential on Marster's being young and handsome that he will take another wife."

      The next speaker said something about his having lived a good while without, and though Miss Stevens was setting her cap, maybe he wouldn't be caught. But Elsie only gathered the sense of it, hardly heard the words, and, bounding away like a frightened deer to her own room, her little heart beating wildly with a confused sense of suffering, she threw