CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTH.
"She led me first to God; Her words and prayers were my young spirit's dew." -- JOHN PIERPONT.
Elmgrove, the country-seat of the elder Mr.Allison, had never looked lovelier than on a beautiful June morning in the year 1865.
The place had been greatly improved since Elsie's first sight of it, while it was still Rose's girlhood's home where Mr.Dinsmore and his little daughter were so hospitably entertained for many weeks.
There was now a second dwelling-house on the estate, but a few hundred yards distant from the first, owned by Edward Allison, and occupied by himself, wife, and children, of whom there were several.
Our friends from Naples had arrived the night before.

The Dinsmores were domiciled at the paternal mansion, the Travillas with Edward and Adelaide.
The sun was not yet an hour high as Elsie stood at the open window of her dressing-room, looking out over the beautiful grounds to the brook beyond, on whose grassy banks, years ago, she and Harold and Sophie had spent so many happy hours.

How vividly those scenes of her childhood rose up before her! "Dear Harold!" she murmured, with a slight sigh, "how kind he always was to me." She could not think of him without pain, remembering their last interview and his present suffering.

She had not seen him yet, but had learned from others that those months at Andersonville had injured his health so seriously that it was not likely ever to be restored.
"What happy children we were in those days," her thoughts ran on; "and I am even happier now, my treasures have so increased with the rolling years; but they! what bitter trials they are enduring; though not less deserving of prosperity than I, who am but a miserable sinner.

But it is whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth." At that moment the sound of little hurrying feet, entering the room, and glad young voices crying, "Good-morning, dear mamma!" broke in upon the current of her thoughts.
"Good-morning, my darlings," she said, turning from the window to embrace them.