"O papa!" sobbed the little girl, still clinging to him as though fearing she should be torn from his arms, "Mr. Travilla says you have given me to him. O papa! don't give me away."
"Pooh! nonsense, Elsie! I am ashamed of you! how can you be so very silly as to believe for one moment anything so perfectly absurd as that I should think of giving you away? Why, I would as soon think of parting with my eyes."
Elsie raised her head and gazed searchingly into his face; then with a deep-drawn sigh of relief, dropped it again, saying, "Oh! I am so glad."
"Really, Miss Elsie," said Travilla, coming up and patting her on the shoulder, "I can't say that I feel much complimented; and, indeed, I don't see why you need have been so very much distressed at the prospect before you; for I must say I have vanity enough to imagine that I should make the better—or at least the more indulgent—father of the two. Come, now, wouldn't you be willing to try me for a month, if your papa will give consent?"
Elsie shook her head.
"I will let you have your own way in everything," urged Travilla, coaxingly; "and I know that is more than he does."
"I don't want my own way, Mr. Travilla; I know it wouldn't always be a good way," replied Elsie, decidedly.
Her father laughed and passed his hand caressingly over her curls.
"I thought you liked me, little Elsie," said Travilla, in a tone of disappointment.
"So I do, Mr. Travilla; I like you very much," she replied.