The Novels of Faith – Premium 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha
only one clouded face to be seen, and that belonged to Enna, who was pouting in a corner because Mary Leslie's doll was a little larger than hers.
Elsie had already received a pretty bracelet from her Aunt Adelaide, a needle-case from Lora, and several little gifts from her young guests, and was just beginning to wonder what had become of her papa's promised present, when she heard her name again, and Adelaide, turning to her with a pleased look, slipped a most beautiful diamond ring on her finger.
"From your papa," she said. "Go and thank him: it is well worth it."
Elsie sought him out where he stood alone in a corner, an amused spectator of the merry scene.
"See, papa," she said, holding up her hand. "I think it very beautiful; thank you, dear papa, thank you very much."
"Does it please you, my darling?" he asked, stooping to press a kiss on the little upturned face, so bright and happy.
"Yes, papa, I think it is lovely! the very prettiest ring I ever saw."
"Yet I think there is something else you would have liked better; is there not?" he asked, looking searchingly into her face.
"Dear papa, I like it very much; I would rather have it than anything else on the tree."
"Still you have not answered my question," he said, with a smile, as he sat down and drew her to his side, adding in a playful tone, "Come, I am not going to put up with any evasion; tell me truly if you would have preferred something else, and if so, what it is."
Elsie blushed and looked down; then raising her eyes, and seeing with what a tender, loving glance he was regarding her, she took courage to say, "Yes papa, there is one thing I would have liked better, and that is your miniature."
To her surprise he looked highly pleased at her reply, and giving her another kiss, said, "Well, darling, some day you shall have it."
"Mr. Horace Dinsmore," called Adelaide, taking some small, glittering object from the tree.
"Another present for me?" he asked, as Walter came running with it.
He had already received several, from his father and sisters, but none had seemed to give him half the pleasure that this did when he saw that it was labelled, "From his little daughter."
It was only a gold pencil. The miniature—with which the artist had succeeded so well that nothing could have been prettier except the original herself—she had reserved to be given in another way.
"Do you like it, papa?" she asked, her face glowing with delight to see how pleased he was.
"Yes, darling, very much; and I shall always think of my little girl when I use it."
"Keep it in your pocket, and use it every day, won't you, papa?"
"Yes, my pet, I will; but I thought you said you had no present for me?"
"Oh! no, no, papa; I said there was none for you amongst those bundles. I had bought this, but had given it to Aunt Adelaide to take care of, for fear you might happen to see it."
"Ah! that was it, eh?" and he laughed and stroked her hair.
"Here, Elsie, here is your bundle of candy," said Walter, running up to them again. "Everybody has one, and that is yours, Adelaide says."
He put it in her hand, and ran away again. Elsie looked up in her father's face inquiringly.
"No, darling," he said, taking the paper from her hand and examining its contents, "not to-night; to-morrow, after breakfast, you may eat the cream-candy and the rock, but none of the others; they are colored, and very unwholesome."
"Won't you eat some, papa?" she asked with winning sweetness.
"No, dearest," he said; "for though I, too, am fond of sweet things, I will not eat them while I refuse them to you."
"Do, papa," she urged, "it would give me pleasure to see you enjoying it."
"No, darling, I will wait until to-morrow, too."
"Then please keep it for me until to-morrow, papa, will you?"
"Yes," he said, putting it in his pocket; and then, as the gifts had all been distributed, and the little folks were in high glee, a variety of sports were commenced by them, in which some of their elders also took a part; and thus the hours sped away so rapidly that Elsie was very much surprised when her father called her to go to bed.
"Is it half-past nine already, papa?" she asked.
"It is ten, my dear child, and high time you were in bed," he said, smiling at her look of astonishment. "I hope you have enjoyed yourself."
"Oh! so much, papa. Good-night, and thank you for letting me stay up so long."
Chapter Fifteenth
"Ask me not why I should love her;—
Look upon those soulful eyes!
Look while mirth or feeling move her,
And see there how sweetly rise
Thoughts gay and gentle from a breast
Which is of innocence the nest—
Which, though each joy were from it shred,
By truth would still be tenanted!"
—HOFFMAN'S Poems.
It was yet dark when Elsie awoke, but, hearing the clock strike five, she knew it was morning. She lay still a little while, and then, slipping softly out of bed, put her feet into her slippers, threw her warm dressing-gown around her, and feeling for a little package she had left on her toilet-table, she secured it and stole noiselessly from the room.
All was darkness and silence in the house, but she had no thought of fear; and, gliding gently down the hall to her papa's door, she turned the handle very cautiously, when, to her great delight, she found it had been left unfastened, and yielded readily to her touch.
She entered as quietly as a little mouse, listened a moment until satisfied from his breathing that her father was still sound asleep, then, stepping softly across the room, she laid her package down where he could not fail to see it as soon as daylight came and his eyes were opened. This accomplished, she stole back again as noiselessly as she had come.
"Who dat?" demanded Chloe, starting up in bed as Elsie reentered her own apartment.
"It is only I; did I frighten you, mammy?" answered the little girl with a merry laugh.
"Ki? chile, dat you? what you doin' runnin' 'bout de house all in de dark, cold night?"
"It isn't night, mammy; I heard it strike five some time ago."
"Well, den, dis chile gwine get right up an' make de fire. But jes you creep back into de bed, darlin', 'fore you cotch your death ob cold."
"I will, mammy," Elsie said, doing as she was desired; "but please dress me as soon as the room is warm enough, won't you?"
"Yes, darlin', kase ob course I knows you want to be up early o' Christmas mornin'. Ki! Miss Elsie, dat's a beautiful shawl you gave your ole mammy. I sha'n't feel de cold at all dis winter."
"I hope not, mammy; and were Aunt Phillis, and Uncle Jack, and all the rest pleased with their presents?"
"I reckon dey was, darlin', mos' ready to go off de handle, 'tirely."
Chloe had soon built up her fire and coaxed it into a bright blaze, and in a few moments more she pronounced the room sufficiently warm for her nursling to get up and be dressed.
Elsie was impatient to go to her father; but, even after she had been carefully dressed and all her morning duties attended to, it was still so early that Chloe advised her to wait a little longer, assuring her that it was