ible.

"What de matter wid my chile? what ails you, honey?" asked Aunt Chloe,
coming to her side full of concern.

"I think one of my bad headaches is coming on, mammy. But oh, tell me, is
Mr. Travilla here?--and papa! where is he?"

"Here daughter," his voice answered, close at hand, "and with a note for
you from Mr. Travilla, who has not shown himself to-day."

She took it eagerly, but with a hand that trembled as if with sudden
palsy, while the eyes, usually so keen-sighted, saw only a blurred and
confused jumble of letters in place of the clear, legible characters
really there.

"I cannot see," she said, in a half-frightened tone, and pressing the
other hand to her brow.

"And you are trembling like an aspen leaf," he said, bending over her in
serious alarm. "My child, when did this come on? and what has caused it?"

"Papa, I cannot tell you now, or till to-morrow, at this hour; I will
then. But oh, papa dear, dear papa!" she cried, putting her arm about his
neck and bursting into hysterical weeping, "promise me, if you love me
promise me, that you will not leave the house till I have told you. I am
sick, I am suffering; you will stay by me? you will not leave me?"

"My darling, I will do anything I can to relieve you, mentally or
physically," he answered in tones of tenderest love and concern. "I shall
not stir from the house, while to do so would increase your suffering. I
perceive there has been some villainy practised upon you, and a promise
extorted, which I shall not ask you to break; but rest assured, I shall
keep guard over my precious one."

"And Mr. Travilla!" she gasped. "Oh, papa, if I only knew he was safe!"

"Perhaps the note may set your mind at rest on that point. Shall I read it
for you?"

"Yes, sir," she said, putting it into his hand with a slight blush, "he
never writes what I should be ashamed or afraid to have my father see."

It was but short, written merely to explain his absence, and dated from a
neighboring plantation, where he had gone to assist in nursing a sick
friend whom he should not be able to leave for some days. There were words
of deep, strong affection, but as she had foreseen, nothing that she need
care to have her father know or see.

"Does not this news allay your fears for him?" Mr. Dinsmore asked
tenderly.

"Yes, papa," she answered, the tears streaming from her eyes. "Oh, how
good God is to me! I will trust Him, trust Him for you both, as well as
myself." S