she
taught it to lisp a simple prayer to Him.

Little Elsie was almost the idol of her father and grandparents, who all
looked upon her as a sort of second edition of her mother; more and more
so as she grew in size, in beauty, and intelligence. Our Elsie seemed to
find no cloud in her sky during that first year of her motherhood. "I
thought I was as perfectly happy as possible in this world, before our
darling came," she said to her husband one day, "but I am far happier now;
for oh! such a well-spring of joy as she is!"

"I am sure I can echo and reecho your words," he answered, folding the
child to his heart. "How rich I have grown in the last two years! My two
Elsies, more precious than the wealth of the world! Sometime I'm half
afraid I love you both with an idolatrous affection, and that God will
take you from me." His voice trembled with the last words.

"I have had that fear also," she said, coming to his side and laying her
hand on his arm; "but, Edward, if we put God first, we cannot love each
other, nor this wee precious pet, too dearly."

"No, you are right, little wife. But we must not expect to continue
always, or very long, so free from trial; for 'we must through much
tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.' And 'many are the afflictions
of the righteous.'"

"But the Lord delivereth him out of them all," she responded, finishing
the quotation.

"Yes, dearest, I know that trials and troubles will come, but not of
themselves, and what our Father sends, He will give us strength to bear.
'The Lord God is a sun and shield, the Lord will give grace and glory.'"

This conversation was held when the little girl was about a year old.

Early in the following winter Elsie said to the dear old Mrs. Travilla,
"Mother, I'm afraid you are not well. You are losing flesh and color, and
do not seem so strong as usual. Mamma remarked it to me to-day, and asked
what ailed you."

"I am doing very well, dear," the old lady answered with a placid smile,
and in her own gentle, quiet tones.

"Mother, dear mother, something is wrong; you don't deny that you are
ill!" and Elsie's tone was full of alarm and distress, as she hastily
seated herself upon an ottoman beside Mrs. Travilla's easy chair, and
earnestly scanned the aged face she loved so well. "We must have Dr.
Barton here to see you. May I not send at once?"

"No, dearest, I have already consulted him, and he is doing all he can for
my relief."

"But cann