MARTHA FINLEY Ultimate Collection – 35+ Novels in One Volume (Including The Complete Elsie Dinsmore Series & Mildred Keith Collection). Finley Martha
darling, not vexed certainly, though very sorry indeed that it was necessary," he said in a kind, gentle tone, passing his hand caressingly over her head.
"Ah, well," remarked Mrs. Murray cheerfully, "we winna fret about it; it will soon grow again, and these little, soft rings of hair are very pretty, too."
"I thought you were in Scotland, Mrs. Murray; when did you come back?" asked the little girl.
"I came to this place only yesterday, darling; but it is about a week since I landed in America."
"I am so glad to see you, dear Mrs. Murray," Elsie said, holding fast to her hand, and looking lovingly into her face. "I haven't forgotten any of the good things you taught me." Then turning to her father, she said, very earnestly, "Papa, you won't need now to have me grow up for a long while, because Mrs. Murray is such an excellent housekeeper."
He smiled and patted her cheek, saying pleasantly, "No, dear, I shall keep you a little girl as long as ever I can; and give Mrs. Murray plenty of time to make a good housekeeper of you."
"At what hour will you have dinner, sir?" asked the old lady, turning to leave the room.
"At one, if you please," he said, looking at his watch. "I want Elsie to eat with me, and it must be early, on her account."
Elsie's little face was quite bright with pleasure. "I am so glad, papa," she said, "it will be very delightful to dine together in our own house. May I always dine with you?"
"I hope so," he said, smiling. "I am not fond of eating alone."
They were in Mr. Dinsmore's study, into which Elsie's own little sitting-room opened.
"Do you feel equal to a walk through your rooms, daughter, or shall I carry you?" he asked, bending over her.
"I think I will try to walk, papa, if you please," she said, putting her hand in his.
He led her slowly forward, but her step seemed tottering, and he passed his arm around her waist, and supported her to the sofa in her own pretty little boudoir.
Although it was now quite late in the fall, the weather was still warm and pleasant in that southern clime—flowers were blooming in the gardens, and doors and windows stood wide open.
Elsie glanced out of the window, and then around the room.
"What a lovely place it is, papa!" she said; "and everything in this dear little room is so complete, so very pretty. Dear papa, you are very, very kind to me! I will have to be a very good girl to deserve it all."
"Does it please you, darling? I am very glad," he said, drawing her closer to him. "I have tried to think of everything that would be useful to you, or give you pleasure; but if there is anything else you want, just tell me what it is, and you shall have it."
"Indeed, papa," she said, smiling up at him, "I could never have thought of half the pretty things that are here already; and I don't believe there is anything else I could possibly want. Ah! papa, how happy I am to-day; so very much happier than when I was here before. Then I thought I should never be happy again in this world. There is your picture. I cried very much when I looked at it that day, but it does not make me feel like crying now, and I am so glad to have it. Thank you a thousand times for giving it to me."
"You are very welcome, darling; you deserve it all, and more than all," replied her father tenderly. "And now," he asked, "will you look at the other rooms, or are you too tired?"
"I want to try the piano first, if you please, papa," she said; "it is so long since I touched one."
He opened the instrument, and then picked her up and seated her on the stool, saying, "I am afraid you will find yourself hardly equal to the exertion; but you may try."
She began a little piece which had always been a favorite of his—he standing beside her, and supporting her with his arm—but it seemed hard work; the tiny hands trembled so with weakness and he would not let her finish.
"You must wait until another day, dearest," he said, taking her in his arms; "you are not strong enough yet, and I think I will have to carry you through the other rooms, if you are to see them at all. Shall I?"
She assented, laying her head down languidly on his shoulder, and had very little to say, as he bore her along through the dressing-room, and into the bed-room beyond.
The bed looked very inviting with its snowy drapery, and he laid her gently down upon it, saying, "You are too much fatigued to attempt anything more, and must take a nap now, my pet, to recruit yourself a little before dinner."
"Don't leave me, papa! please don't!" she exclaimed, half starting up as he turned toward the door.
"No, dearest," he said, "I am only going to get your shawl to lay over you, and will be back again in a moment."
He returned almost immediately, but found her already fast asleep.
"Poor darling! she is quite worn out," he murmured, as he spread the shawl carefully over her. Then taking a book from his pocket, he sat down by her side, and read until she awoke.
It was the sound of the dinner-bell which had roused her, and as she sat up looking quite bright and cheerful again, he asked if she thought she could eat some dinner, and would like to be taken to the dining-room. She assented, and he carried her there, seated her in an easy-chair, wheeled it up to the table, and then sat down opposite to her, looking supremely happy.
The servants were about to uncover the dishes, but motioning them to wait a moment, Mr. Dinsmore bowed his head over his plate, and asked a blessing on their food. It sent a glow of happiness to Elsie's little, pale face, and she loved and respected her father more than ever. She seemed to enjoy her dinner, and he watched her with a pleased look.
"The change of air has done you good already, I think," he remarked; "you seem to have a better appetite than you have had since your sickness."
"Yes, papa, I believe everything tastes good because it is home," she answered, smiling lovingly up at him.
After dinner he held her on his knee a while, chatting pleasantly with her about their plans for the future; and then, laying her on the sofa in her pretty boudoir, he brought a book from his library, and read to her.
It was a very interesting story he had chosen; and he had been reading for more than an hour, when, happening to look at her he noticed that her eyes were very bright, and her cheeks flushed, as if with fever. He suddenly closed the book, and laid his finger on her pulse.
"Oh! papa, please go on," she begged; "I am so much interested."
"No, daughter, your pulse is very quick, and I fear this book is entirely too exciting for you at present—so I shall not read you any more of it to-day," he said, laying it aside.
"Oh! papa, I want to hear it so much; do please read a little more, or else let me have the book myself," she pleaded in a coaxing tone.
"My little daughter must not forget old lessons," he replied very gravely.
She turned away her head with almost a pout on her lip, and her eyes full of tears.
He did not reprove her, though, as he once would have done; but seeming not to notice her ill-humor, exerted himself to soothe and amuse her, by talking in a cheerful strain of other matters; and in a very few moments all traces of it had disappeared, and she was answering him in her usual pleasant tone.
They had both been silent for several minutes, when she said, "Please, papa, put your head close down to me, I want to say something to you."
He complied, and putting her little arm around his neck, she said, in a very humble tone, "Dear papa, I was very naughty and cross just now; and I think I have been cross several times lately; and you have been so good and kind not to reprove or punish me, as I deserved. Please, papa, forgive me; I am very sorry, and I will try to be a better girl."
He kissed her very tenderly.
"I do forgive you freely, my little one," he said,