"Oh, papa, always, if—"
"Hush!" he said sternly; "you know that will not do;" and setting her down, he rose to go.
But she clung to him with desperate energy. "Oh, papa," she sobbed, "when will you come back?"
"That depends upon you, Elsie," he said. "Whenever my little daughter writes to me the words I have so vainly endeavored to induce her to speak, that very day, if possible, I will start for home."
He laid his hand on the handle of the door as he spoke.
But clinging to him, and looking up beseechingly into his face, she pleaded, in piteous tones, amid her bitter sobs and tears, "Papa, dear, dear papa, kiss me once before you go; just once, papa; perhaps you may never come back—perhaps I may die. Oh, papa, papa! will you go away without kissing me?—me, your own little daughter, that you used to love so dearly? Oh, papa, my heart will break!"
His own eyes filled with tears, and he stooped as if to give her the coveted caress, but hastily drawing back again, said with much of his accustomed sternness—
"No, Elsie, I cannot break my word; and if you are determined to break your own heart and mine by your stubbornness, on your own head be the consequences,"
And putting her forcibly aside, he opened the door and went out, while, with a cry of despair, she sank half-fainting upon the floor.
She was roused ere long by the sound of a carriage driving up to the door, and the thought flashed upon her, "He is not gone yet, and I may see him once more;" and springing to her feet, she ran downstairs, to find the rest of the family in the hall, taking leave of her father.