"I have got it all arranged nicely, Elsie," Adelaide said, coming into the room with a very pleased face as the little girl was preparing for bed that evening. "Your papa is going away in a day or two to attend to some business matters connected with your property, and will be absent at least two weeks; so, unless he should take it into his head to carry you along, we can easily manage about the picture."
Elsie looked up with a countenance of blank dismay.
"Why," said Adelaide, laughing, "I thought you'd be delighted with my news, and instead of that, you look as if I had read you your death-warrant."
"O Aunt Adelaide! two whole weeks without seeing papa! just think how long."
"Pooh! nonsense, child! it will be gone before you know it. But now tell me, how much money have you?"
"I have saved my allowance for two months; that makes twenty dollars, you know, auntie, and I have a little change besides; do you think it will be enough?"
"Hardly, I'm afraid; but I can lend you some, if necessary."
"Thank you, auntie," Elsie answered gratefully, "you are very kind; but I couldn't take it, because papa has told me expressly that I must never borrow money, nor run into debt in any way."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Adelaide, a little impatiently; "Horace certainly is the most absurdly strict person I ever met with. But never mind, I think we can manage it somehow," she added, in a livelier tone, as she stooped to kiss her little niece good-night.
Elsie's gentle rap was heard very early at her papa's door the next morning.
He opened it immediately, and springing into his arms, she asked, almost tearfully, "Are you going away, papa?"
"Yes, darling," he said, caressing her fondly. "I must leave home for a few weeks; and though I at first thought of taking you with me, upon further consideration I have decided that it will be better to leave you here; yet, if you desire it very much, my pet, I will take you along. Shall I?"
"You know I would always rather be with you than anywhere else, papa," she answered, laying her head on his shoulder; "but you know best, and I am quite willing to do whatever you say."
"That is right, daughter; my little Elsie is a good, obedient child," he said, pressing her closer to him.
"When are you going papa?" she asked, her voice trembling a little.
"To-morrow, directly after dinner, daughter."
"So soon," she sighed.
"The sooner I leave you the sooner I shall return, you know, darling," he said, patting her cheek, and smiling kindly on her.
"Yes, papa; but two weeks seems such a long, long time."
He smiled. "At your age I suppose it does, but when you are as old as I am, you will think it very short. But to make it pass more quickly, you may write me a little letter every day, and I will send you one just as often."
"Oh! thank you, papa; that will be so pleasant," she answered, with a brightening countenance. "I do so love to get letters, and I would rather have one from you than from anybody else."
"Ah? then I think you ought to be willing to spare me for two weeks. I have been thinking my little girl might perhaps be glad of a little extra pocket-money for buying Christmas gifts," he said, taking out his purse. "Would you?"
"Yes, papa; oh! very much, indeed."
He laughed at her eager tone, and putting a fifty-dollar note into her hand, asked, "Will that be enough?"
Elsie's eyes opened wide with astonishment.
"I never before had half so much as this," she exclaimed. "May I spend it all, papa?"
"Provided you don't throw it away," he answered gravely; "but don't forget that I require a strict account of all your expenditure."
"Must I tell you every thing I buy?" she asked, her countenance falling considerably.
"Yes, my child, you must; not until after Christmas, however, if you would rather not."
"I will not mind it so much then," she answered, looking quite relieved; "but indeed, papa, it is a great deal of trouble."
"Ah! my little girl must not be lazy," he said, shaking his head gravely.
This was Elsie's first parting from her father since they had learned to know and love each other; and when the time came to say good-by, she clung to him, and seemed so loath to let him go, that he quite repented of his determination to leave her at home.
"O papa, papa! I cannot bear to have you go, and leave me behind," she sobbed. "I feel as if you were never coming back."
"Why, my own darling," he said, kissing her again and again, "why do you talk so? I shall certainly be at home again in a fortnight; but if I had thought you would feel so badly, I would have made arrangements to take you with me. It is too late now, however, and you must let me go, dearest. Be a good girl while I am gone, and when I return I will bring you some handsome presents."
So saying, he embraced her once more, then putting her gently from him, sprang into the carriage and was driven rapidly away.
Elsie stood watching until it was out of sight, and then ran away to her own room to put her arms round her nurse's neck and hide her tears on her bosom.
"Dere, dere, darlin'! dat will do now. Massa Horace he be back 'fore long, and ole Chloe don' like for to see her chile 'stressin' herself so," and the large, dusky hand was passed lovingly over the bright curls, and tenderly wiped away the falling tears.
"But, O mammy! I'm afraid he will never come back. I'm afraid the steamboat boiler will burst, or the cars will run off the track, or——"
"Hush, hush, darlin'! dat's wicked; you must jes' trust de Lord to take care of Massa Horace; He's jes' as able to do it one place as in tudder; an ef you an' your ole mammy keep prayin' for Massa, I'se sure he'll come back safe, kase don't you remember what de good book says, 'If any two of you agree——'"
"Oh! yes, dear mammy, thank you for remembering it," exclaimed the little girl, lifting her head and smiling through her tears. "I won't cry any more now, but will just try to keep thinking how glad I will be when papa comes home again."
"A very sensible resolution, my dear," said Adelaide, putting her head in at the door; "so come, dry your eyes, and let mammy put on your bonnet and cloak as fast as possible, for I have begged a holiday for you, and am going to carry you off to the city to do some shopping, et cetera."
"Ah! I think I know what that et cetera means, auntie, don't I?" laughed Elsie, as she hastened to obey.
"Dear me! how very wise some people are," said her aunt, smiling and nodding good-naturedly. "But make haste, my dear, for the carriage is at the door."
When Elsie laid her head upon her pillow that night she acknowledged to herself, that in spite of her father's absence—and she had, at times, missed him sadly—the day had been a very short and pleasant one to her, owing to her Aunt Adelaide's thoughtful kindness in taking her out into new scenes, and giving agreeable occupation to her thoughts.
She rose at her usual early hour the next morning, and though feeling lonely, comforted herself with the hope of receiving the promised letter; and her face was full of eager expectation, as her grandfather, in his usual leisurely manner, opened the bag and distributed its contents.
"Two letters for Elsie!" he said, in a tone of surprise, just as she was beginning to despair of her turn coming at all. "Ah; one is from Horace, I see; and the other from Miss Allison, no doubt."