MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – Timeless Children Classics & Other Novels. Finley Martha

MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – Timeless Children Classics & Other Novels - Finley Martha


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rushing out and throwing her arms round Elsie's neck. "Oh, aren't you glad? Now, Elsie, coax him hard and make him let you go."

      "I wouldn't dare to do it; I should only get punished if I did, for papa never allows me to coax or tease, nor even to ask him a second time," Elsie said, with a little shake of her head.

      "Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed Sophy, "I often get what I want by teasing. I guess you never tried it."

      "My papa is not at all like your father and mother," replied Elsie, "and it would be worse than useless to coax after he has once said no."

      "Then coax him before he has a chance to say it," suggested Sophy, laughing.

      "Perhaps that might do if I can manage it," said Elsie, thoughtfully. "I wish he would come!" she added, walking to the window and looking out.

      "He won't be here for an hour or two, at any rate, if he dined in the city," said Sophy. "Oh, how warm it is! let's go to our room, Elsie, and take off our dresses and have a nap. It will help to pass away the time until your papa comes."

      Elsie agreed to the proposal, and before long they were both sound asleep, having tired themselves out with romping and running.

      When Elsie awoke she found Chloe standing over her. "You's had a berry good nap, darlin', an' you's berry warm," she whispered, as she wiped the perspiration from the little girl's face. "Let your ole mammy take you up an' give you a bath an' dress you up nice an' clean, 'fore Miss Sophy gits her blue eyes open."

      "Oh, yes, that will make me feel so much better," agreed the little girl, "and you must make me look very nice, mammy, to please papa. Has he come yet?"

      "Yes, darlin'; master's been home dis hour, an' I 'specs he's in de parlor dis minute talkin' 'long of Miss Rose an' de rest."

      "Then hurry, mammy, and dress me quickly, because I want to ask papa something," Elsie said in an eager whisper, as she stepped hastily off the bed.

      Chloe did her best, and in half an hour Elsie, looking as sweet and fresh as a new-blown rose in her clean white frock and nicely brushed curls, entered the parlor where her father, Mrs. Allison, Miss Rose, and her elder brother were seated.

      Mr. Dinsmore was talking with Edward Allison, but he turned his head as Elsie came in, and held out his hand to her with a proud, fond smile.

      She sprang to his side, and, still going on with his conversation, he passed his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, while she leaned against his knee, and with her eyes feed lovingly upon his face waited patiently for an opportunity to prefer her request.

      Miss Rose was watching them, as she often did, with a look of intense satisfaction, for it rejoiced her heart to see how her little friend revelled in her father's affection.

      The gentlemen were discussing some scientific question with great earnestness, and Elsie began to feel a little impatient as they talked on and on without seeming to come any nearer to a conclusion: but at last Edward rose and left the room in search of a book which he thought would throw some light on the subject; and then her father turned to her and asked, "How has my little girl enjoyed herself to-day?"

      "Very much, thank you, papa; but I have something to ask you, and I want you to say yes. Please, papa, do! won't you?" she pleaded eagerly, but in a low tone only meant for his ears.

      "You know I love to gratify you, daughter," he said kindly, "but I cannot possibly say yes until I know what you want."

      "Well, papa," she replied, speaking very fast, as if she feared he would interrupt her, "a good many little girls and boys are going after strawberries to-morrow: they are to start from the school-house, at nine o'clock in the morning, and walk two miles to a field where the berries are very thick; and they've asked us to go—I mean Harold and Sophy and me—and we all want to go so much; we think it will be such fun, and Mrs. Allison says we may if you will only say yes. Oh, papa, do please let me go, won't you?"

      Her tone was very coaxing, and her eyes pleaded as earnestly as her tongue.

      He seemed to be considering for a moment, and she watched his face eagerly, trying to read in it what his answer would be.

      At length it came, gently, but firmly spoken, "No, daughter, you cannot go. I do not at all approve of the plan."

      Elsie did not utter another word, of remonstrance or entreaty, for she knew it would be useless; but the disappointment was very great, and two or three tears rolled quickly down her cheeks.

      Her father looked at her a moment in some surprise, and then said, speaking in a low tone, and very gravely, "This will never do, my daughter. Go up to my room and stay there until you can be quite cheerful and pleasant; then you may come down again."

      Elsie hurried out of the room, the tears coming thick and fast now, and almost ran against Edward in the hall.

      "Why, what is the matter, my dear?" he asked in a tone of surprise and alarm, laying his hand on her shoulder to detain her.

      "Please don't ask me, Mr. Edward. Please let me go," she sobbed, breaking away from him and rushing up the stairs.

      He stood for an instant looking after her, then turning to go back to the parlor, encountered Rose, who was just coming out.

      "What ails her?" he asked.

      "I don't know. Something that passed between her and her father. I rather suspect he sent her upstairs as a punishment."

      "Pshaw! I've no patience with him. The dear little thing! I don't believe she deserved it."

      Rose made no reply, but glided up-stairs, and he returned to the parlor to finish the discussion with Mr. Dinsmore.

      In the meantime Elsie had shut herself into her father's room, where she indulged for a few moments in a hearty cry, which seemed to do her a great deal of good. But presently she wiped away her tears, bathed her eyes, and sat down by the window.

      "What a silly little girl I am," she said to herself, "to be crying just because I can't have my own way, when I know it will not alter papa's determination in the least; and when I know, too, that I have always found his way the best in the end! Oh, dear, I have quite disgraced myself before Miss Rose and her mother, and the rest, and vexed papa, too! I wish I could be good and then I might be down-stairs with the others, instead of alone up here. Well, papa said I might come down again as soon as I could be pleasant and cheerful, and I think I can now, and there is the tea-bell."

      She ran down just in time to take her place with the others. She raised her eyes to her father's face as he drew her chair up closer to the table. The look seemed to ask forgiveness and reconciliation, and the answering smile told that it was granted; and the little heart bounded lightly once more, and the sweet little face was wreathed in smiles.

      Sophy and Harold were watching her from the other side of the table, and their hopes rose high, for they very naturally concluded from her beaming countenance that she had carried her point, and they would all be allowed to go to the strawberry party next day.

      Their disappointment was proportionally great, when, after supper, Elsie told them what her father's answer had really been.

      "How provoking!" they both exclaimed; "why, you looked so pleased we were sure he had said yes; and we had quite set our hearts on it."

      "What is the matter?" asked Richard, who had just come up to them.

      They explained.

      "Ah! so that was what you were crying about this afternoon, eh?" he said, pinching Elsie's cheek.

      "Did you really, Elsie?" asked Sophy, in surprise.

      Elsie blushed deeply, and Richard said, "Oh, never mind; I dare say we've all cried about more trifling things than that in our day. Let's have a good game of romps out here on the lawn. Come, what shall it be, Elsie?"

      "I don't care," she replied, struggling to keep down an inclination to cry again.

      "Puss wants a corner," suggested Harold; "trees for corners."

      "Here


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