e detained her.

"Sit still and read it here, darling," he said, "I love to have you on my
knee, and if there are any hard places I can help you."

"Thank you, papa; sometimes there are hard places--at least pretty hard
for a little girl like me--though I think Miss Rose tries to write
plainly because she knows that I cannot read writing as well as big
people can."

She was eagerly tearing off the envelope while she answered him, and then
settling herself comfortably she began to read.

He watched with deep interest the varying expression of her fine open
countenance as she read. Once or twice she asked him to tell her a word,
but the most of it she got through without any difficulty.

At last she had finished.

"It is such a nice letter, papa," she said as she folded it up, "and so
good of Miss Rose to write to me again so soon."

"Are you not going to let _me_ enjoy it, too?" he asked.

She put it into his hand instantly, saying, with a blush, "I did not know
you would care to read it, papa."

"I am interested in all that gives either pleasure or pain to my little
girl," he answered gently. "I wish to be a sharer in all her joys and
sorrows."

Elsie watched him while he read, almost as intently as he had watched
her; for she was anxious that he should be pleased with Miss Rose's
letter.

It was a cheerful, pleasant letter, well suited to interest a child of
Elsie's years; giving an account of home scenes; telling of her little
brothers and sisters, their love for each other; the little gifts they
had prepared in anticipation of Christmas, etc., etc.

At the close she made some allusion to Elsie's letters, and expressed her
heartfelt sympathy in her little friend's happiness.

"I am so glad, my darling," she wrote, "that your father now loves you so
dearly, and that you are so happy in his love. My heart ached for you in
the bitter disappointment of your first meeting with him. It is true you
never said that you were disappointed, but there was a tone of deep
sadness in your dear little letter, the cause of which I--who knew so
well how you had looked and longed for his return, and how your little
heart yearned for his affection--could not fail to guess. But, dear
child, while you thus rejoice in an _earthly_ father's love, do not
forget that you have a Father in Heaven, who claims the _first_ place in
your heart; and who is the giver of every good gift, not even excepting
the precious love that now mak