“I—I think—”
“Well?”
“I’m afraid I ought to be punished this time to help me to remember. But oh, please don’t say I can’t go to the party!”
“No, I shall not do that, it shall be free forgiveness this time. I think you are sorry enough to remember in future. Doubtless you think your papa is very strict and particular about your mode of expressing yourself, but some day you will thank me for it. Now go for your walk; we have kept Annis waiting quite long enough.”
“Thank you, dear papa,” she said, holding up her face for another kiss, “I think you are very, very kind!”
“Why, what kept you so long?” asked Annis, as Elsie joined her on the veranda. “I thought you were all ready and right behind me.”
“Papa called me into his study; he had something to say to me,” Elsie answered, with a blush, and turning away her face that Annis might not see it and the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, cousin,” she added in her own sweet, gentle tones.
“Never mind; it doesn’t signify, and I didn’t mean to complain,” Annis said with cheerful good humor. “Oh, there’s Mr. Travilla!” as a horseman was seen coming up the drive. “Let’s wait and speak to him.”
They stood still looking toward him, and in a moment he had dismounted close beside them, and was shaking hands and asking if they and all the family were well.
“I’ll put yo’ hoss in de stable, Massa Travilla,” said a servant, coming up and taking the bridle from his hand.