"She is not ill; I saw her a few moments since," he answered, with a sigh. "She is distressed, I know, but it is the consequence of her own wrong-doing, and she must endure it for a time that she may learn never again to encourage her brother in resistance to lawful authority."
"Don't you think the lesson may be already learned?" Rose said pleadingly. "She has no stubbornness in her nature, but is very easily subdued and made penitent."
"I am not so sure of that; she comes of very stubborn stock, on one side at least," he replied, with a rather melancholy attempt at pleasantry.
"My dear husband, I wish you would forgive her," pleaded the young step-mother. "Surely you will before she goes to bed to-night?"
"Can you not be content to leave her to me, my Rose?" he asked. "Do you not know that I am a most doting father? that she is the very light of my eyes, and core of my heart? Ah, I sometimes fear she is her father's idol."
"No," Rose said, half-chokingly, and with tears in her eyes, "I am sure your conscience need not trouble you on that score so long as you can find it in your heart to be so severe with her faults."
"Not in my heart, love," he returned, a little hurt, "but in the settled conviction that I am acting for her good. It requires a strong effort of my will to resist the promptings of affection; love that urges me to send for her at once, tell her she is forgiven, and lavish the tenderest caresses upon her."
"That is just what I should rejoice to see you do," said Rose.
"To-morrow or next day perhaps you may," he answered, in a tone that seemed to imply that he wished to hear no more on the subject. And Rose, like the wise woman and affectionate wife that she was, dropped it, though her heart ached for Elsie.