imple, childlike way, of what she had
been reading in her Bible and the "Pilgrim's Progress," asking him a
question now and then, which, with all his learning and worldly wisdom,
he was scarcely as capable of answering as herself. But now she had been
for some minutes sitting perfectly silent, her head resting upon his
breast, and her eyes cast down, as if in deep thought,

He had been studying with some curiosity the expression of the little
face, which was much graver than its wont, and at length he startled her
from her reverie with the question, "What is my little girl thinking
about?"

"I was thinking, papa, that if you will let me, I should like very much
to give Arthur a nice present before he goes away. May I?"

"You may if you wish," he said, stroking her hair.

"Oh, thank you, papa," she answered joyously, "I was half afraid you
would not let me; then, if you please, won't you, the next time you go to
the city, buy the very handsomest pocket Bible you can find?--and then,
if you will write his name and mine in it, and that it is a token of
affection from me, I will be so much obliged to you, dear papa."

"I will do so, daughter, but I am afraid Arthur will not feel much
gratitude to you for such a present."

"Perhaps he may like it pretty well, papa, if it is _very handsomely_
bound," she said, rather doubtfully; "at any rate I should like to try.
When does he go, papa?"

"Day after to-morrow, I believe."

"I wish he would come in for a few minutes to see me, and say good-bye;
do you think he will, papa?"

"I am afraid not," replied her father, shaking his head; "however, I will
ask him. But why do you wish to see him?"

"I want to tell him that I am not at all vexed or angry with him, and
that I feel very sorry for him, because he is obliged to go away all
alone amongst strangers, poor fellow!" she sighed.

"You need not waste any sympathy on him, my dear," said her father, "for
I think he rather likes the idea of going off to school."

"Does he, papa? Why, how strange!" exclaimed the little girl, lost in
astonishment.

As Mr. Dinsmore had predicted, Arthur utterly refused to go near Elsie;
and, at first, seemed disposed to decline her gift; but at length, on
Lora suggesting that he might require a Bible for some of his school
exercises, he accepted it, as Elsie had thought he might, on account of
the handsome binding.

Elsie was hurt and disappointed that he would not come to see her; she
s