"I felt faint and sick when I knew how near I had been to death," he said, as he finished his narrative.
Elsie had been listening with breathless interest.
"Dear papa," she murmured, laying her little cheek against his hand, "how good God was to spare your life! If you had been killed I could never have had you for my papa."
"Perhaps you might have had a much better one, Elsie," he said gravely.
"Oh! no, papa, I wouldn't want any other," she replied earnestly, pressing his hand to her lips.
"Ah! here we are," exclaimed her father, as at that instant the carriage turned into a broad avenue, up which they drove quite rapidly, and the next moment they had stopped, the coachman had thrown open the carriage door, and Mr. Dinsmore, springing out, lifted his little girl in his arms and set her down on the steps of the veranda.
"Ah! Dinsmore, how do you do? Glad to see you, and my little friend
Elsie, too. Why this is really kind," cried Mr. Travilla, in his
cheerful, hearty way, as, hurrying out to welcome them, he shook Mr.
Dinsmore cordially by the hand, and kissed Elsie's cheek.
"Walk in, walk in," he continued, leading the way into the house, "my mother will be delighted to see you both; Miss Elsie especially, for she seems to have taken a very great fancy to her."
If Mrs. Travilla's greeting was less boisterous, it certainly was not lacking in cordiality, and she made Elsie feel at home at once; taking off her bonnet, smoothing her hair, and kissing her affectionately.
The gentlemen soon went out together, and Elsie spent the morning in Mrs. Travilla's room, chatting with her and assisting her with some coarse garments she was making for her servants.