His prose works I may perhaps give you at some future day; but I do not choose you should read them for some years to come.

But now we will lay this book aside for the present, and have our morning chapter together." They had finished their devotions, and she was sitting on his knee, waiting for the breakfast-bell to ring.
"When did you find an opportunity to work these without letting me into the secret ?" he asked, extending his foot, and turning it from side to side to look at his slipper.

"It puzzles me to understand it, since I know that for weeks past you have scarcely been an hour out of my sight during the day--not since you were well enough to sew," he said, smiling down at her.
There was an expression of deep gravity, almost amounting to sadness, on Elsie's little face, that surprised her father a good deal.
"All, papa!" she murmured, "it makes me feel sad, and glad, too, to look at those slippers." "Why, darling ?" he asked in a tender tone.
"Because, papa, I worked almost the whole of them last summer, in those sorrowful days when I was all alone.

I thought I was going to die, papa, for I was sure I could not live very long without you to love me, and I wanted to make something for you that would remind you of your little girl when she was gone, and perhaps convince you that she did really love you, although she seemed so naughty and rebellious," The tears were streaming down her cheeks, and there was a momentary struggle to keep down a rising sob; and then she added-- "I finished them since I came here, papa, a little at a time, whenever you were not with me." He was deeply moved.

"My poor darling!" he sighed, drawing her closer to him, and caressing her tenderly, "those were sad days to us both, and though I _then_ persuaded myself that I was doing my duty toward you, if you had been taken away from me I could never have forgiven myself, or known another happy moment.