He smiled and patted her cheek, saying pleasantly, "No, dear, I shall keep you a little girl as long as ever I can; and give Mrs. Murray plenty of time to make a good housekeeper of you."
"At what hour will you have dinner, sir?" asked the old lady, turning to leave the room.
"At one, if you please," he said, looking at his watch. "I want Elsie to eat with me, and it must be early, on her account."
Elsie's little face was quite bright with pleasure. "I am so glad, papa," she said, "it will be very delightful to dine together in our own house. May I always dine with you?"
"I hope so," he said, smiling. "I am not fond of eating alone."
They were in Mr. Dinsmore's study, into which Elsie's own little sitting-room opened.
"Do you feel equal to a walk through your rooms, daughter, or shall I carry you?" he asked, bending over her.
"I think I will try to walk, papa, if you please," she said, putting her hand in his.
He led her slowly forward, but her step seemed tottering, and he passed his arm around her waist, and supported her to the sofa in her own pretty little boudoir.
Although it was now quite late in the fall, the weather was still warm and pleasant in that southern clime—flowers were blooming in the gardens, and doors and windows stood wide open.