swered with a good-natured smile, which seemed to relieve her very
much.

Tea was over, the guests had returned to their homes, and Mr. Dinsmore
sat by the fire, as usual, with his little girl upon his knee.

"We have had a very pleasant day, papa, haven't we?" she remarked.

"Yes, darling, I have enjoyed it, and I hope you have, too."

"Very much indeed, papa; and I do like all my presents so much."

"If I should ask you to give me something of yours, would you be willing
to do it?" he inquired in a grave tone.

"Why, papa!" she said, looking up quickly into his face, "doesn't
everything I have belong to you?"

"In some sense it does, certainly," he replied, "and yet I like you to
feel that you have some rights of property. But you did not answer my
question."

"I can't think what it can be, papa; but I am sure there is nothing of
mine that I wouldn't be very glad to give you, if you wanted it," she
said earnestly.

"Well, then," said he, "your aunt gave you a new Bible to-day, and as you
don't need two, will you give the old one to me?"

A slight shade had come over the little girl's face, and she sat for a
moment apparently in deep thought; then, looking up lovingly into his
face, she replied, "I love it very much, papa, and I don't know whether
any other Bible could ever seem _quite_ the same to me--it was mamma's,
you know--and it has been with me in all my troubles, and I don't think
I could be quite willing to give it to anybody else; but I am very glad
to give it to you, my own dear, dear papa!" and she threw her arms around
his neck.

"Thank you very much, my darling. I know it is a very strong proof of
your affection, and I shall value it more than its weight in gold," he
said, pressing her to his heart, and kissing her tenderly.

CHAPTER XV.

"Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles;
And every sense, and every heart, is joy."

THOMSON.

It was spring again; early in April; the air was filled with the melody
of birds, and balmy with the breath of flowers. All nature was awaking to
renewed life and vigor; but not so with our little friend. She had never
fully recovered her strength, and as the season advanced, and the weather
became warmer she seemed to grow more languid.

Her father was very anxious about her, and sending for Dr. Barton one
morning, held a long consultation with him, the result of which was a
determination on Mr