I am as ready now as ever to obey your slightest behest." "Then, my darling, don't carry this child.

You are not strong, and I fear will do yourself an injury.

She can walk very well now, and if necessary to have her carried, call upon me, her father, or one of the servants; Aunt Chloe, Uncle Joe, Dinah, one or another is almost sure to be at hand." "I will try to follow out your wishes, papa.

Edward has said the same thing to me, and no doubt you are right; but it is so sweet to have her in my arms, and so hard to refuse when she asks to be taken up." "You mustn't ask mamma to carry you," Mr.Dinsmore said to the child, caressing her tenderly as he spoke; "poor mamma is not strong, and you will make her sick." They had seated themselves side by side upon a sofa.

The little one turned a piteous look upon her mother, and with a quivering lip and fast-filling eyes, said, "Mamma sick?
Elsie tiss her, make her well ?" "No, my precious pet, mother isn't sick; so don't cry," Elsie answered, receiving the offered kiss, as the babe left her grandfather's knee and crept to her; then the soft little hands patted her on the cheeks and the chubby arms clung about her neck.
But catching sight, through the open window, of her father coming up the garden walk, wee Elsie hastily let go her hold, slid to the floor and ran to meet him.
Mr.Dinsmore seemed again lost in gloomy thought.
"Papa, dear, what is it?
What troubles you so ?" asked Elsie, moving closer to him, and leaning affectionately on his shoulder, while the soft eyes sought his with a wistful, anxious expression.
He put his arm about her, and just touching her cheek with his lips, heaved a deep sigh.