es your young life so bright and happy.
Keep close to Jesus, dear Elsie: His is the only _truly satisfying_
love--the only one we can be certain will never fail us."

"Is it not a nice letter, papa?" asked the little girl, as he refolded
and gave it to her again.

"Very nice, daughter," he answered, in an absent way. He looked very
grave, and Elsie studied his countenance intently while, for some
moments, he sat with his eyes bent thoughtfully upon the carpet. She
feared that something in the letter had displeased him. But presently he
looked at her with his usual affectionate smile, and laying his hand
caressingly on her head, said, "Miss Allison seems to warn you not to
trust too much to the permanence of my affection; but you need not fear
that you will ever lose it, unless, indeed, you cease to be deserving of
it. No, nor even then," he added, drawing her closer to him, "for even
should you grow very naughty and troublesome, you would still be _my
child_--a part of myself and of my lost Elsie, and therefore very dear to
me."

"Ah! papa, how could I ever _bear_ to lose your love? I think I should
die," she said, dropping her head on his breast, with almost a sob. "Oh!
if I am ever very, _very_ naughty, papa, punish me as severely as you
will; but oh, never, _never_ quit _loving_ me."

"Set your heart at rest, my darling," he said, tenderly, "there is no
danger of such a thing. I could not do it, if I wished."

Ah! there came a time when Elsie had sore need of all the comfort the
memory of those words could give.

"What are you going to wear to Isabel Carleton's party, to-night, Elsie?"
asked Lucy, at the dinner table.

"Nothing," replied Elsie, with an arch smile, "I am not going, Lucy," she
added.

"Not going! well, now, that is _too_ bad," cried Lucy, indignantly. "I
think it's really mean of your papa; he never lets you go anywhere."

"Oh, Lucy! he let me go to town with Carry the other day; he has let
me stay up late two or three nights since you came; he is going to let
me ride with the rest of you this afternoon, and he said that I might
do just as I pleased about going to-night," Elsie summed up rather
triumphantly, adding, in a very pleasant tone, "It is entirely my own
choice to stay at home; so you see, Lucy, you must not blame my papa
before you know."

Lucy looked a little ashamed, while Mary Leslie exclaimed:

"Your own choice, Elsie? why, how strange! don't you like parties?"

"Not nearly