alm yourself, my dear young lady, and hope for the best, or I fear I
shall have another patient on my hands. I will stay with the little girl
myself to-night, and I wish I could prevail upon you to lie down and take
some rest, for I see you need it sadly. Have you had your tea?"

Adelaide shook her head. "I _could_ not eat," she said sadly.

"You ought at least to _try_; it would do you good," he urged.

"No, you will not? well, then, you will lie down; indeed, you must; you
will certainly be ill."

Adelaide looked the question she dared not ask.

"No," he said, "there's no _immediate_ danger, and if there should be any
important change I will call you."

And, reassured on that point, she yielded to his persuasions and went to
bed.

CHAPTER XII.

"I drink
So deep of grief, that he must only think,
Not dare to speak, that would express my woe:
Small rivers murmur, deep gulfs silent flow."

MARSTON'S SOPHONIESA.

It was no want of love for his child that had kept Mr. Dinsmore from at
once obeying Adelaide's summons. He had left the place where she supposed
him to be, and thus it happened that her letters did not reach him nearly
so soon as she had expected.

But when at length they were put into his hands, and he read of Elsie's
entreaty that he would come to her, and saw by the date how long she had
been ill, his distress and alarm were most excessive, and within an hour
he had set out on his return, travelling night and day with the greatest
possible despatch.

Strangers wondered at the young, fine-looking man, who seemed in such
desperate haste to reach the end of his journey--sat half the time with
his watch in his hand, and looked so despairingly wretched whenever the
train stopped for a moment.

Elsie was indeed, as Adelaide had said, the very idol of his heart;
and at times he suffered but little less than she did; but his will was
stronger even than his love, and he had fondly hoped that this separation
from him would produce the change in her which he so much desired; and
had thus far persuaded himself that he was only using the legitimate
authority of a parent, and therefore acting quite right; and, in fact,
with the truest kindness, because, as he reasoned, she would be happier
all her life if once relieved from the supposed necessity of conforming
to rules so strict and unbending. But suddenly his eyes seemed to have
been opened to see his conduct in a