‘Malbrook is gone to the wars
And I hope he’ll never return!’”
sang Elfie, saucily dancing into the house.
In the afternoon Major Fielding took an affectionate leave of his daughter and their hostess, and left the city to join his regiment.
Elfie had admonished him to keep his face clean and his hair combed and his shoes tied; to obey his superior officer, write home once a week, and be a good old boy generally. She had watched him out of sight.
And now that he was quite gone, she ran up stairs, away up into the attic, where she felt sure of being free from interruption, and she locked herself in and gave herself up to a good howling spell.
She heard Erminie looking for her in the empty chambers below, doubtless with the intention of offering her consolation, and she held her breath to keep from being discovered. Presently she heard Erminie give up the search and go down stairs.
And soon after Elfie also arose, wiped her eyes and stole down to her own room, where she washed her face, brushed her hair and arranged her dress. And then she ran down to the library and joined Erminie.
“I feel very sorry that your father has gone, Elfie,” said the gentle girl, in a sympathizing tone.
“So do I. But then he’s gone ‘where glory waits’ him, and all that, you know, and—it’s a great relief!”