Mrs. Travilla pressed her quivering lips on the child's forehead, and a scalding tear fell on her cheek.
Elsie started, and again raising her mournful eyes, said, in a husky whisper, "Don't, dear Mrs. Travilla don't cry. I never cry now."
"And why not, darling? Tears are often a blessed relief to an aching heart, and I think it would do you good; these dry eyes need it."
"No—no—I cannot; they are all dried up—and it is well, for they always displeased my papa,"
There was a dreary hopelessness in her tone, and in the mournful shake of her head, that was very touching.
Mrs. Travilla sighed, and pressed the little form closer to her heart.
"Elsie, dear," she said, "you must not give way to despair. Your troubles have not come by chance; you know, darling, who has sent them; and remember, it is those whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and he will not always chide, neither will he keep his anger forever."
"Is he angry with me?" she asked fearfully.
"No, dearest, it is all sent in love; we cannot see the reason now, but one day we shall—when we get home to our Father's house, for then everything will be made plain; it may be, Elsie dear, that you, by your steady adherence to the right, are to be made the honored instrument in bringing your father to a saving knowledge of Christ. You would be willing to suffer a great deal for that, dear child, would you not? even all you are suffering now?"
"Ah, yes, indeed!" she said earnestly, clasping her hands together; "but I am afraid it is not that! I am afraid it is because I loved my papa too well, my dear, dear papa—and God is angry with me—and now I shall never, never see him again,"