"Almost, papa," and she looked up into his face with a bright, sweet smile, full of affection.
With a sudden impulse he caught her in his arms, and kissing her again and again, said with emotion, "Elsie, my darling, I love you too well; I could never bear to lose you."
"You must love Jesus better, my own precious papa," she replied, clasping her little arms around his neck, and returning his caresses.
He held her a moment, and then putting her down, said, "I shall send you up some supper, and I want you to eat it; don't behave as you did about the bread and water once, a good while ago."
"Will it be bread and water this time, papa?" she asked, with a smile.
"You will see," he said, laughingly, and quitted the room.
Elsie turned to her book again, but in a few moments was interrupted by the entrance of a servant carrying on a silver waiter a plate of hot, buttered muffins, a cup of jelly, another of hot coffee, and a piece of broiled chicken. Elsie was all astonishment.
"Why, Pomp," she asked, "did papa send it?"
"Yes, Miss Elsie, 'deed he did," replied the servant, with a grin of satisfaction, as he set down his burden. "I reckon you been berry nice gal dis day; or else Marster Horace tink you little bit sick."
"Papa is very good; and I am much obliged to you too, Pomp," said the little girl, laying aside her book, and seating herself before the waiter.