"You must speak when you are spoken to," said her father; "answer your grandfather's question at once."
"Papa tied it up, because I was naughty," replied the little girl, vainly striving to suppress a sob.
Her father made a movement as if about to lead her from the table.
"O papa! don't" she cried, in terror; "I will be good."
"Let me have no more crying, then," said he; "this is shameful behavior for a girl eight years old; it would be bad enough in a child of Enna's age." He took out his handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Now," said he, "begin to eat your supper at once, and don't let me have to reprove you again."
Elsie tried to obey, but it seemed very difficult, indeed almost impossible, while she knew that her father was watching her closely, and felt that everybody else was looking at her and thinking, "What a naughty little girl you are!"
"Oh!" thought the poor child, "if papa would only quit looking at me, and the rest would forget all about me and eat their suppers, maybe I could keep from crying." Then she sent up a silent prayer for help, struggling hard to keep back the tears and sobs that were almost suffocating her, and taking up her slice of bread, tried to eat.
She was very thankful to her Aunt Adelaide for addressing a question to her papa just at that moment, thus taking his attention from her, and then adroitly setting them all to talking until the little girl had had time to recover her composure, at least in a measure.
"May I go to my room now, papa?" asked the timid little voice as they rose from the table.
"No," he said, taking her hand and leading her out to the veranda, where he settled himself in an easy-chair and lighted a cigar.