"Ah!" said Miss Stanhope with an arch smile, "he does not ask this hour for me; knowing it's the time of my siesta."
Elsie found Egerton pacing the parlor floor to and fro. He took her hand, led her to the sofa, and sitting down by her side, began at once to defend himself against Mr. Travilla's charge. He told her he had never been guilty of gambling; he had "sowed some wild oats," years ago—getting slightly intoxicated on two or three occasions, and things of that sort—but it was all over and repented of; and surely she could not think it just and right that it should be brought up against him now.
As to Mr. Travilla's story—the only way he could account for the singular mistake was in the fact that he had a cousin who bore the same name as himself, and resembled him so closely that they had been frequently mistaken for each other. And that cousin, most unfortunately, especially on account of the likeness, did both drink and gamble. He was delighted by the look of relief that came over Elsie's face, as he told her this. She cared for him, then; yet her confidence had been shaken.
"Ah, you doubted me, then?" he said in a tone of sorrowful reproach.
"Oh! I could not bear to think it possible. I was sure there must be a mistake somewhere," she said with a beautiful smile.
"But you are quite satisfied now?"
"Quite."
Then he told her he loved her very dearly, better than his own soul; that he found he could not live without her; life would not be worth having, unless she would consent to share it with him. "Would she, oh! would she promise some day to be his own precious little wife?"
Elsie listened with downcast, blushing face, and soft eyes beaming with joy; for the events of that day had revealed to her the fact that this man had made himself master of her heart.
"Will you not give to me a word of hope?" pleaded Egerton.
"I—I cannot, must not, without my father's permission," she faltered, "and oh! he forbade me to listen to anything of the kind. I am too young he says."
"When was that?"
"Three years ago."
"Ah! but you are older now; and you will let me write and ask his consent? I may say that you are not quite indifferent to me?"
"Yes," she murmured, turning her sweet, blushing face away from his ardent gaze.
"Thank you, dearest, a thousand thanks!" he cried, pressing her hand in his. "And now may I ask who and what that Mr. Travilla is?"
She explained, winding up by saying that he was much like a second father to her.
"Father!" he exclaimed, "he doesn't look a day over twenty-five."
"He is about two years younger than papa and doesn't look any younger, I think," she answered with a smile. "But strangers are very apt to take papa for my brother."
Egerton left an hour before Mr. Travilla came, and that hour Elsie spent in her own room in a state of great excitement,—now full of the sweet joy of loving and being loved, now trembling with apprehension at the thought of the probable effect of Mr. Travilla's story upon her father. She was fully convinced of Egerton's truth and innocence; yet quite aware that his explanation might not prove so satisfactory to Mr. Dinsmore.
"Oh, papa, papa!" she murmured, as she paced restlessly to and fro, "how can I obey if you bid me give him up? And yet I must. I know it will be my duty, and that I must."
"What a color you hab in your cheeks, darlin'! an' how your eyes do shine. I'se 'fraid you's gettin' a fever," said Chloe, with an anxious, troubled gaze into her young lady's face, as she came in to dress her for the evening.
"Oh, no, mammy, I am perfectly well," Elsie answered with a slight laugh. Then seating herself before the glass, "Now do your best," she said gayly, "for we are to have company to tea. I doubt if you can guess whom?"
"Den 'spose my pet saves her ole mammy de trouble. 'Taint massa, for sure?"
"No, not quite so welcome a guest; but one you'll be delighted to see. Mr. Travilla."
"Ki, darlin'! he not here?"
"Yes, he came this morning. Ah! I knew you'd be delighted."
Elsie knew that it would require the very strongest proof to convince her father of the truth of Mr. Egerton's story, but hoped to find Mr. Travilla much more ready to give it credence. She was proportionably disappointed when, on hearing it from her, he scouted it as utterly unworthy of belief, or even examination.
"No, my child," he said, "the man's face is indelibly impressed upon my memory, and I can not be mistaken in his identity."
Elsie's face flushed crimson, and indignant tears sprang to her eyes and trembled in her voice as she answered, "I never knew you so uncharitable before, sir. I could not have believed it of my kind-hearted, generous old friend."
He gave her a very troubled, anxious look, as he replied, "Why should you take it so to heart, Elsie? Surely this man is nothing to you."
"He is to be some day, if papa will permit," she murmured, turning away her blushing face from his gaze.
Mr. Travilla uttered a groan, made two or three rapid turns across the room, and coming back to her side, laid his hand in an affectionate, fatherly manner upon her shoulder.
"My dear," he said with emotion, "I don't know when I have heard anything that distressed me so much; or that could give such pain and distress to your doting father."
"Mr. Travilla, you will not, you cannot be so unkind, so cruel, as to try to persuade papa to think as you do of—of Mr. Egerton?"
Her tone was half indignant, half imploring, and her eyes were lifted pleadingly to his face.
"My poor child," he said, "I could not be so cruel to you as to leave him in ignorance of any of the facts; but I shall not attempt to bias his judgment; nor would it avail if I did. Your father is an independent thinker, and will make up his mind for himself."
"And against poor Bromly," thought Elsie, with an emotion of anguish, and something akin to rebellion rising in her heart.
Mr. Travilla read it all in her speaking countenance. "Do not fear your father's decision, my little friend." he said, sitting down beside her again, "he is very just, and you are as the apple of his eye. He will sift the matter thoroughly, and decide as he shall deem best for your happiness. Can you not trust his wisdom and his love?"
"I know he loves me very dearly, Mr. Travilla, but—he is only human, and may make a mistake."
"Then try to leave it all in the hands of your heavenly Father, who cannot err, who is infinite in wisdom, power, and in His love for you."
"I will try," she said with a quivering lip. "Now please talk to me of something else. Tell me of that young man. Did you say he shot himself?"
"Young Beresford, my friend's son? No, he was prevented." And he went on to tell of Rudolph's horror and remorse on account of that rash act, and of the excesses that led to it; also of the trembling hope his parents and friends were beginning to indulge that he was now truly penitent, and, clothed in his right mind, was sitting at the Saviour's feet.
Elsie listened with interest. They had had the parlor to themselves for an hour or more, Miss Stanhope having received an unexpected summons to the bedside of a sick neighbor.
She was with them at tea, and during most of the evening, but left them alone together for a moment just before Mr. Travilla took his leave, and he seized the opportunity to say to Elsie that he thought she ought to refrain from further intercourse with Egerton till she should learn her father's will in regard to the matter.
"I cannot promise—I will think of it," she said with a look of distress.
"You write frequently to your papa?"
"Every day."
"I know you would not wish to deceive him in the least. Will you tell him what I conceive to be the