Chapter Tenth.
ELSIE AND HER BROTHER.
"Horace, bring papa that newspaper that lies on the table yonder," Mr.Dinsmore said to his little son.
The child, seated in his own little chair by his mother's side, waslistlessly turning the leaves of a picture-book. Elsie had justfinished her recitations for the morning, and was now sitting on theother side of Rose, taking a lesson in fancy-work.
Mr. Dinsmore had spoken in a pleasant tone, rather of request thancommand, yet Horace, though usually ready to obey promptly andcheerfully, sat perfectly still, as if he had not heard, or did notchoose to heed.
"Horace, do you hear me? Go and bring me that paper," said his father;and this time the tone was one of stern command.
The child's face instantly assumed a stubborn, sullen expression, whilehe neither moved nor answered.
Elsie, pale and trembling with apprehension, gave him an entreating,her father an imploring look, which neither seemed to see.
Mr. Dinsmore was regarding his son with a look of stern displeasure,and Horace's eyes were on his book.
"Horace, dear, do as papa bids you," said Rose, with gentle entreaty.
"Leave him to me, Rose," said her husband; "I have given the order, andI am the one to enforce it. Horace, obey me instantly or I shall whipyou till you do."
At that stern sentence Elsie almost cried out in fear and dismay, forwell she knew her father's indomitable will, and she could perceivethat Horace, whom she so dearly loved, that to see him suffer pain wasfar worse than to have it inflicted upon herself, was just now in amost stubborn, refractory mood.
Probably the state of the atmosphere had something to do with it, forit was a rainy day, close and sultry.
"Me don't want to," muttered the little fellow, making no movement toobey; then as he felt a not very gentle grasp upon his arm, "Me won't!"he cried, with a defiant look upon his father's face.
Mr. Dinsmore instantly administered a pretty severe chastisement, Rosesitting by pale and sad, Elsie with the tears streaming over her cheeks.
Horace cried violently, but still refused obedience to the reiteratedcommand, "Go and get that paper and bring it to me."
The punishment was repeated with added severity, but he stubbornlypersisted in his refusal, and the battle went on till his mother,unable to endure the sight, rose and left the room, and Elsie so farforgot herself in her darling little brother's pain that she ran to therescue, threw her arms about him, and tried to drag him away from herfather.
"Oh, papa, don't!" she sobbed; "please don't whip him any more! Icannot bear it."
"Elsie! how dare you!" Mr. Dinsmore exclaimed, in astonishment andwrath, putting her forcibly aside as he spoke. "Leave the roominstantly," he added, in his sternest tones and with a stamp of hisfoot.
She let go her hold of the child, but, lingering, began again herentreaty, "Oh, papa, please--"
"Will you compel me to punish you in the same way?" he said, againstamping his foot and pointing significantly to the door.
At that she hastened from the room and sought her own, crying as ifher heart would break.
Horace yielded at last, when nearly exhausted with the conflict,received a kiss of reconciliation from his father, was then carried tohis mother, and wept himself to sleep in her arms, her tears fallingalmost as fast as his.
She had laid him in his crib and was bending over him, tenderlysmoothing back the damp curls from his heated brow, when her husbandcame softly to her side, and, putting his arm about her waist, asked inlow, moved tones, "Do you blame me, my Rose? Do you think me a cruelfather?"
She did not answer for a moment, but seemed struggling with emotion.
He sighed deeply.
"I--I think you were conscientious in it all," she said at length, hervoice tremulous with feeling, "and that after beginning the conflict itwas necessary for you to conquer; but I think the beginning it was asad mistake."
"How do you mean? What would you have had me do when my child refusedto obey a command so simple and easy to understand and do?"
"My husband," she said, allowing him to lead her to a sofa, where theysat down side by side, "I do not like to seem to try to teach you whoare so much older and wiser than I; but do you not think you wouldhave spared yourself and all of us a great deal of pain if instead ofcompelling obedience you had simply punished refusal to obey, and therelet the matter rest?"
"Would it have gone as far toward securing obedience in the future?" hequeried, rather as if considering the question himself than asking heropinion.
"I think so," she said. "Surely a child will not be apt to disobeyvery often when he finds that swift punishment is always meted out inproportion to the magnitude of the offence."
He sat silently meditating for some little time, she anxiously watchingthe expression of his face.
At length, turning to her, "I believe you are right, my love," he said,"and I shall, if possible, avoid such conflicts in the future, as youadvise, simply punishing the act of disobedience, or refusal to obey.To-day that course would, as you have suggested, have saved us all agreat deal of suffering; and oh, what would it not have saved to Elsieand myself if put into practice years ago!" He sighed deeply as headded, "And the pain occasioned by this unfortunate conflict is not allover yet, for I have her to punish now."
"Elsie?" exclaimed Rose, looking at him in great surprise; "what hasshe done?"
He told her what had occurred just as she left the room where he wasbattling with Horace, adding, "I must, of course, punish her, for shewas not only rebelling against my authority herself, but upholding herbrother in doing the same."
"I suppose so," said Rose sadly, "but I wish you could feel it rightand wise to forgive her."
"Not till I have inflicted some punishment," he said; "the offence wasquite too serious to be lightly passed over."
"But you will not be severe with her?" Rose said pleadingly. "You knowit was only her great love for her little brother that made her for amoment forgetful of her duty to you. And I am sure she is repentingbitterly now."
"I have no intention of inflicting corporal punishment, if that is whatyou apprehend," he said; "but I think I ought to make her aware, for aday or two at least, that she is in disgrace with me."
"I am so sorry," sighed Rose; "for though to some children that wouldbe a very slight punishment, I know that to her it will be positivelydreadful."
"Yes," he returned, echoing her sigh, "she is extravagantly fond of herfather's caresses and endearments, but so is he of hers, and I doubt ifthe punishment will be more severe to the one than to the other of us."
"What's de mattah, chile? What's de mattah wid you an' little massa?"Aunt Chloe asked, with an anxious, troubled look, as Elsie rushed intoher own apartments crying very bitterly.
Amid heavy sobbing and floods of tears the little girl related what hadpassed between her father and brother, winding up with the story of herinterference and its result.
"Oh, darlin' chile, dat was bad!" exclaimed Chloe. "You shouldn't neberdo no sich ting as dat! Dat be bery bad ting fo' little massa, what youbeen an' gone an' done. De Bible say chillens mus' min' dere fader andmudder."
Elsie made no reply, but throwing herself on a couch, half buried herface in a pillow in the effort to shut out the sound of Horace's cries,which penetrated even there.
Until they ceased she scarcely thought of anything but that he wasbeing hurt; but when all grew quiet with the ending of the conflict,she was suddenly struck with the enormity of her offence and the dreadcertainty that her father was greatly and justly incensed at herunwarrantable interference between him and her brother.
She was astonished at her own temerity, and trembled at thought of theprobable consequences. That some sort of punishment would be meted outto her she had not the slightest doubt, and as her father was wont tobe prompt in action, she fully expected a visit from him as soon as hewas done disciplining Horace.
She listened with a quaking heart for the sound of hi
s approachingfootsteps; but the minutes and the hours crept on and he came not.
The dinner-bell rang, and Elsie started up full of perplexity andalarm, doubting whether she was or was not expected to obey its summons.
"Oh, mammy," she cried, "I don't know what to do! I don't want to goto the table. Please go and ask papa if I may be excused. Tell him myhead aches, for indeed it does, and I'm not at all hungry."
"Co'se, chile, co'se you's got misery in de head after all dat cryin',"replied Aunt Chloe, putting down her knitting to go and do the errand."Don' cry no mo', honey; maybe massa forgib you, ef you's right downsorry."
"I am sorry, mammy," sobbed Elsie; "oh, I am very sorry; but I knowthat papa will punish me somehow or other, and I deserve it."
"Maybe not, honey," responded Aunt Chloe cheerfully, then hurried awayto the dining-room.
She returned in a few minutes, bringing a very nice meal daintilyarranged on a silver waiter.
"What did papa say?" asked Elsie anxiously.
"Not much, honey; only, 'Bery well, Aunt Chloe, you kin take hersomething when she feels inclined to eat.'"
Elsie's tears burst forth afresh. Was it then a matter of indifferenceto her father that she was in pain? her father, who was usually sofull of loving anxiety at the slightest indication of anything beingamiss with her?
"Oh, mammy," she sobbed, "what if papa shouldn't ever love me any more!"
"Ki, chile, dat a heap ob nonsense you's talkin' now!" laughed Chloe."Massa couldn't neber help it; not a bit; you's jes' de light ob hiseyes. Dere now, don' cry no mo', but jes' eat what your ole mammy fotchfo' you."
There was some slight and temporary comfort in the assurance her mammyexpressed, and the little girl found herself able, by its help, to eatsparingly of the dainties she had brought her.
"Did papa say I must stay in my rooms till I got permission to leavethem?" she asked.
"No, honey, darlin', he didn't say nuffin' 't all 'bout dat; didn't gibno corrections, but jes' 'bout gibin' you what you wants to eat whenyou's ready fo' it. Dat don' soun' so mighty bad fo' yo' case, chile,an' I respects mass'll be comin' in 'rectly fo' to kiss an' make up."
"No," Elsie said, shaking her head and bursting into tears again,"he'll punish me first; I am quite sure of that."
"Ki, chile! ef he gwine fo' to do dat, what you 'spose he waitin' fo'?"
"I don't know," sobbed the little girl; "but I'm afraid it will be along while before he will pet and fondle me again, or even give me akind look or word."
"Why you tink dat, honey?"
"Oh, because he looked so stern and angry when he stamped his foot atme and ordered me out of the room."
The afternoon passed very slowly in the constant yet vain expectationof a visit from her father or a summons to his presence. Several timesshe was on the point of venturing into it without being called, but herheart failed her; she was not sure that it might not be looked upon asan additional offence; he had sent her out of the room without sayinghow long he meant her banishment to last.
Besides, she wanted to be sure of seeing him alone; she would not haveeven Rose a witness of the interview.
So she waited till the hour when the latter would be engaged in seeinglittle Horace put to bed for the night, then in much trepidation wentin search of her father. She felt quite sure of finding him alone, forthere were no guests in the house, and as it was still storming, thereseemed no danger of any one calling.
She went first to the parlor, which was their principal family roomwhen alone. Yes, there he was, sitting in an easy-chair by a window,his back toward her, doubtless reading, and quite alone.
She stole noiselessly to the back of his chair, her heart beatingvery fast and loud. She almost thought he must hear it; but he seemedunaware of her approach, entirely absorbed in his book.
She caught hold of the chair-back to steady and support herself, forshe was trembling in every limb.
"Papa, I--" she began, her voice full of tears.
"I have nothing to say to you, Miss Dinsmore, except that I forbidyou to address me by that title or to call me father, or to take anyliberties with me that would be unsuitable in a stranger guest in thehouse," he interrupted, in a freezing tone, without turning toward her,and with his eyes still upon his book.
"Oh, I can't bear it! I _can't_ bear it!" she cried, with a burst ofsobs and tears, throwing herself at his feet. "I know I've behavedvery badly, but I'm--"
"Get up," he said sternly, again interrupting her; "control yourself,or leave the room till you can."
His look was as stern and cold as his words.
She struggled to her feet and went back to her own rooms, crying verybitterly.
"Oh, mammy, mammy," she sobbed, "it's even worse than I expected, forI'm forbidden to call him father or papa. Oh, what shall I do? How canI call him anything else? And I mustn't hug or kiss him or sit on hisknee; and--and he called me 'Miss Dinsmore.' Just think of it! Not evenElsie, without the pet names I love so to hear from his lips, but MissDinsmore, as if I were a stranger he cared nothing about."
"'Tain't gwine to las' long, honey darlin', dat ar ain't," said Chloesoothingly, taking the weeper in her arms and caressing her tenderly;"you' jes' de light ob massa's eyes, like I tole you befo', an' de petnames be sho' to come again fo' long. 'Sides, you'll hab yo' ole seaton massa's knee, an' all de hugs and kisses you wants."
"I'm afraid not for a long while, mammy," sobbed the little girl. "Ithink papa has not been so displeased with me since that dreadful time,so long ago, when we lived at Roselands."
The tea-bell rang.
"Is you gwine to de table, darlin'?" Chloe asked.
"Oh no, no, mammy!" Elsie exclaimed, with a fresh burst of grief; "papabade me leave the room till I could control myself, and I know I couldnot do that in his presence yet; oh, how can I ever be with him and notcall him father or papa?"
As they sat down to the table Rose glanced at the vacant seat, thenat her husband. "I fear the dear child is ill with grief and remorse,Horace," she said, with a troubled, anxious look; "she has such atender conscience, and so dearly loves the father whose displeasure shehas incurred."
"She is not ill; I saw her a few moments since," he answered, with asigh. "She is distressed, I know, but it is the consequence of her ownwrong-doing, and she must endure it for a time that she may learn neveragain to encourage her brother in resistance to lawful authority."
"Don't you think the lesson may be already learned?" Rose saidpleadingly. "She has no stubbornness in her nature, but is very easilysubdued and made penitent."
"I am not so sure of that; she comes of very stubborn stock, on oneside at least," he replied, with a rather melancholy attempt atpleasantry.
"My dear husband, I wish you would forgive her," pleaded the youngstep-mother. "Surely you will before she goes to bed to-night?"
"Can you not be content to leave her to me, my Rose?" he asked. "Do younot know that I am a most doting father? that she is the very light ofmy eyes, and core of my heart? Ah, I sometimes fear she is her father'sidol."
"No," Rose said, half-chokingly, and with tears in her eyes, "I am sureyour conscience need not trouble you on that score so long as you canfind it in your heart to be so severe with her faults."
"Not in my heart, love," he returned, a little hurt, "but in thesettled conviction that I am acting for her good. It requires a strongeffort of my will to resist the promptings of affection; love thaturges me to send for her at once, tell her she is forgiven, and lavishthe tenderest caresses upon her."
"That is just what I should rejoice to see you do," said Rose.
"To-morrow or next day perhaps you may," he answered, in a tone thatseemed to imply that he wished to hear no more on the subject. AndRose, like the wise woman and affectionate wife that she was, droppedit, though her heart ached for Elsie.
After they had left the dining-room for the parlor, she asked if shemight go to the little girl's apartments and see if she were feelingquite well.
; "I really don't like to claim so much authority over my wife as toforbid her going where she will about my house, which is her own also,"he said, with a slight smile, "but I should prefer to have the childleft to herself for the present. I have not confined her to her rooms,and she can join us when she will. I only bade her leave my presencethis afternoon till she could control herself; and she would understandfrom that that she was at liberty to return to it when ready to complywith the condition."
"How she will miss her good-night chat seated upon her father's knee;the good-night hug and kiss he has been wont to bestow upon her!"sighed Rose.
"Yes," he said, in a moved tone, rising and beginning to pace the roomin a disturbed way, "she will hardly know what to do without them;nor shall I; but we must. Don't make any further efforts to shake myresolve, Rose, for I cannot, must not, pass lightly over so serious amisdemeanor as she has been guilty of in this instance."
Rose could but comply with his wishes, so plainly and stronglyexpressed, and Elsie passed the evening alone, except for thecompanionship of her nurse; for she dared not trust herself again inher father's presence till she could hope to be able to maintain theself-control he required.
As her hour for retiring drew near, Aunt Chloe noted how she waslistening for approaching footsteps, at the same time glancingfrequently at her watch or the clock on the mantel.
"Sho, honey, you's gwine to de parlor to say good-night fo' you goes tobed?" she remarked inquiringly.
Elsie shook her head, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "How can I,mammy, when I mustn't say father or papa?" she sobbed. "I couldn'twithout crying, if at all; and papa forbade me his presence till Icould control myself. There, my bedtime has come, and papa hasn't.Oh, I could hardly help hoping he did not mean to let me go to bedunforgiven. There's never been a night before since--since thosedreadful days at Roselands, that I've gone without his kiss, or withoutbeing held close to his heart with tender, loving words as if I werethe dearest thing to him in all the world."
"Don't you go for to fret yo' po' heart out, blessed chile," Chloesaid, taking her nursling in her kind arms. "Yo' ole mammy lubs youlike her life; so does yo' pa too; an' maybe he's gwine come in hyah'bout de time you's ready fo' bed, to kiss an' make up ef you promisesneber to do so no mo' as you been an' gone an' done dis hyah mornin'."
"Oh no, never, never!" Elsie sobbed, hiding her face for a moment onAunt Chloe's shoulder. "I don't know how I ever dared to do it! Ideserve to be punished very severely; no wonder papa is so displeasedwith me."
She was soon in bed, but did not, as usual with her, fall asleep atonce; she lay for a good while listening to every sound, hoping evenagainst hope that her father would relent and come to give her hisforgiveness and a loving kiss ere she slept; but he did not, and atlength she cried herself to sleep. It was the same thing over again inthe morning; she hoped he would come to her to inquire of her penitenceand good resolutions for the future, or send for her to go to him; butshe waited and wished in vain, breakfasted in her own rooms--still toodistrustful of her power of self-control to venture to join her parentsin the breakfast-room--then prepared her task for the day; yet couldnot find courage to carry them to her father that he might hear herrecitations.
She was glad the weather continued such as to keep visitors away; shehoped none would come till this trouble of hers was over; for howcould she bear to have any one out of the family--even good, kind Mr.Travilla--know that she had so displeased her father? And while hisdispleasure lasted, how impossible it would be for any guest to fail toperceive it.
She tried one employment after an other--needlework, reading,music--but found no interest in any of them, and every now and then shewould give way to a fit of violent weeping.
"Oh," she said to herself, "how long is it to last? Papa did not say,and I don't know when he will think I have been punished enough."
So the day wore wearily away, and night came again without any changefor the better.
Sadly mourning over her estrangement from her father, and longinginexpressibly for his forgiveness and loving favor, a thought struckher.
"Ah, yes," she said half aloud, "I will write to papa the confessionand plea for pardon he would not let me speak."
Opening her writing-desk, she selected a sheet of paper, took up herpen and dipped it in the ink; but, alas, how should she begin her note?By what title address the father who had forbidden her to call himthat? How impossible to call him anything else! How disrespectful, howimpertinent to omit a title altogether!
She laid down her pen, pushed the paper aside, and covering her facewith her hands, wept long and bitterly, Chloe watching her withtear-dimmed eyes.
"Precious chile," she said at length, "what kin yo' ole mammy do fo'her pet?"
"Nothing, mammy, unless you could persuade my father to forgive andlove me again."
"Po' dear, he'll do dat befo' long; I'se pow'ful sure ob dat. Massa sofond ob you he kaint hole out much longer hisself. Was you gwine writesumfin' to massa, honey?"
"Yes, but I can't, because he forbade me to call him father or papa,and--and oh, I don't know how to call him anything else. Oh, mammy, Idon't believe I can sleep at all to-night without his forgiveness!"
"Den 'spose my chile go an' ax massa fo' it."
"No, I dare not, because he forbade me to take any greater liberty withhim than a stranger guest might, or to come into his presence till Icould be calm; and I know I could not yet."
"Den yo' ole mammy gwine fo' you; an' dis am de bes' time, kase Is'pect massa by hisself in de parlor," she said, rising and leaving theroom.
As she had expected, she found Mr. Dinsmore alone in the parlor.Dropping a courtesy, she stood before him with folded hands, waiting inrespectful silence for an invitation to speak.
"Well, Aunt Chloe, what is it?" he asked.
"Massa, my chile frettin' herself sick."
"She must not do that," he said, with a touch of sternness in his tone.
"Please, sah, s'pose my chile kaint help it?"
"She must help it. Tell her I say so."
"Oh, massa, ain't you gwine forgib my chile? She am mighty sorry shebeen an' gone an' done such t'ing; she ain't neber gwine do de like obdat no mo'."
"I trust not," he said; "I shall have to be very severe with her if shedoes. No, I am not ready to forgive her yet. Such conduct as she hasbeen guilty of cannot be passed over with a trifling punishment. Shemust be made to realize that her offence is a very serious one."
A wave of his hand with the last word gave Chloe to understand that theinterview was at an end.
Elsie's heart beat high betwixt hope and fear as she sat waiting andlistening for Chloe's returning footsteps, and for her father's, whichmight perhaps accompany or precede them.
"Oh, mammy, what did he say? will he forgive me? may I go to him nowand call him papa?" she asked, half-breathlessly and with an eager,longing look, as her nurse came in. Then reading the answer in Chloe'ssad and troubled countenance, she dropped her face into her hands andsobbed aloud.
"Don't, chile; don't, honey darlin'; I'se sho it all come right befo'long," Chloe said tenderly, laying her hand caressingly on the droopinghead. "But massa he say you mus' stop dis frettin' an' cryin'. I tolehim s'pose you couldn't, but he say bery sternly, 'She must.' Kin youdo it, darlin'?"
"I'll try; I must obey my father," she sighed, and lifting her head,wiped away her tears, and by a strong and determined effort stoppedtheir flow and suppressed her sobs.
It was now time for her preparations for bed. She went through them insilence, tears now and again gathering in her eyes, but none sufferedto fall.
"Papa must be obeyed," she kept repeating to herself.
She maintained her self-control for some time after laying her headupon her pillow, but sleep did not visit it, and as she lay thereturning restlessly from side to side, mental distress again so overcameher that ere she was aware of it she was wetting her pillow with floodsof tears and sobbing aloud.
It was now Mr. Dinsmo
re's own hour for retiring, and he was in hisroom, the door of communication with his little daughter's bedroom openas usual, so that the sound of her weeping came very distinctly to hisear.
The next moment Elsie felt herself lifted from the bed and set upon herfeet; then her hand was taken in a close clasp and she led into theadjoining room, her own dressing-room.
Here the moon shone brightly in at a window, in front of which stood aneasy-chair. Toward that her father led her, and seating himself thereinwas about to draw her to his knee; but she fell at his feet sobbing,"Pa--oh, I can't help forgetting and calling you that, or cryingbecause you are angry with me; but I don't want to be disobedient, andI'm so, so sorry for all my naughtiness. Please, please forgive me;please let me call you father, or my heart will break!"
"You may. I remove the prohibition," he said, in a moved tone, liftingher up and drawing her to his breast; "and if you are indeed verypenitent on account of your very bad behavior yesterday, and promisenever to do such a thing again, I will forgive and receive you backinto favor."
"Dear father, thank you," she sobbed, clinging about his neck. "I thinkI was never so sorry in all my life, and I am quite resolved never,never to do such a thing again; I am astonished at myself to think Iever dared to do it."
"So am I," he said; "and I am afraid you are hardly yet fully sensibleof the enormity of your offence. I want you to reflect that in that actyou were not only guilty of high-handed rebellion yourself, but wereencouraging and upholding your brother in the same. Do you wonder thatI have felt it my painful duty to punish you with some severity?"
"No, papa," she answered humbly, "I feel that I have deserved it all,and a great deal more. I wonder you didn't whip me too then and there,that Horace might see how very naughty you considered my interference,and that I must obey just the same as he."
"I probably should have done just that had you been a little younger,"he said, "and I am not altogether sure that I ought to have sufferedyou to escape as it was. You may be very sure," he added gravely andwith some sternness of tone, "that you will not, if the offence is everrepeated."
"Oh, it shall not be, papa, it never, never shall!" she exclaimed,holding up her face for a kiss, which he gave very heartily.
"To make sure of that, if you see such a conflict beginning (though Itrust there will be no more of them), leave the room at once," he said.
They were silent for a moment, she with her head laid on his breast,her arm about his neck, while he held her close, softly smoothing thecurls back from her brow with the free hand, and gazing down tenderlyinto the little pale face with its tear-swollen eyes.
"My poor darling, you have had a sad time of it," he remarkedpresently. "You have been crying a great deal, I see."
At that her face flushed painfully, and her lip quivered. "Please,papa, don't be angry," she said in tremulous tones. "I tried to stop assoon as you sent me word that I must. I didn't shed any more tears tillafter I got into bed; but then I was so, so hungry for my good-nightkiss that they would come in spite of all I could do."
"Don't be afraid," he said; "I have forgiven all your offences, andthis is the seal," kissing her fondly several times.
"Dear papa, thank you. Oh, how dearly I do love you! how sweet yourcaresses are to me!" she exclaimed. Then after a moment's silence, "Aremamma and Horace quite well, papa?" she asked.
"Yes; both would have been in to see you if their plans had met myapproval. Horace was much concerned when I explained to him thatbecause his sister was so very naughty as to try to take him away fromme when I was punishing him for being stubborn and disobedient, she hadto be punished too; and for that reason he could not see her."
"I am very much ashamed of having set him so bad an example, papa," shesaid with a sob, and blushing deeply.
"It was to neutralize that example, not to mortify you, that I deemedit necessary to tell him. Now, my love, my darling, it is high time youwere in bed and asleep," he added, repeating his caresses; then settingher on her feet again, he led her back to her bed, laid her in it, andwith a fatherly blessing and a kiss on lip and cheek and forehead, lefther to her slumbers.
At first she seemed too full of joy and thankfulness to close an eye;yet ere she was aware of it the happy waking thoughts had mergedthemselves in blissful dreams.