"What time is it?" asked Elsie. "I always have to go to bed at half-past eight."
"I don't know," said Sophy, "but we'll look at the clock in the dining-room," and she ran in, closely followed by her little guest.
"Just eight! we've only got half an hour; so come along. But won't your papa let you stay up longer?"
"No," Elsie answered in a very decided tone; and they hurried to the parlor, where they seated themselves in a corner, and were soon eagerly discussing the pictures in Sophy's book.
They had just finished, and Sophy was beginning a very animated description of a child's party she had attended a short time before, when Elsie, who had been anxiously watching her father for the last five minutes, saw him take out his watch and look at her.
"There, Sophy," she said, rising, "I know papa means it is time for me to go to bed."
"Oh, just wait one minute!"
But Elsie was already half way across the room.
"It is your bedtime, daughter," said Mr. Dinsmore, smiling affectionately on her.
"Yes, papa; good-night," and she held up her face for the accustomed kiss.