.

my dear, it is yours. There, John, unlock it," tossing him the key. "And now, daughter, get down and see what you can find in it worth having."

      Elsie needed no second bidding, but in an instant was on her knees beside the trunk, eager to examine its contents.

      "Take the lid off the band-box first, and see what is there," said her father.

      "O papa, how very pretty!" she cried, as she lifted out a beautiful little velvet hat adorned with a couple of ostrich feathers.

      "I am very glad it pleases you, my darling," he said, putting it on her head, and gazing at her with proud delight in her rare beauty. "There! it fits exactly, and is very becoming."

      Then taking it off, he returned it to the box, and bade her look further.

      "I am reserving the present for Christmas," he said, in answer to her inquiring look.

      Elsie turned to the trunk again.

      "Dear papa, how good you are to me!" she said, looking up at him almost with tears of pleasure in her eyes, as she lifted out, one after another, a number of costly toys, which she examined with exclamations of delight, and then several handsome dresses, some of the finest, softest merino, and others of thick rich silk, all ready made in fashionable style, and doing credit to his taste and judgment; and lastly a beautiful velvet pelisse, trimmed with costly fur, just the thing to wear with her pretty new hat.

      He laughed and patted her cheek.

      "We must have these dresses tried on," he said, "at least one of them; for as they were all cut by the same pattern—one of your old dresses which I took with me—I presume they will all fit alike. There, take this one to mammy, and tell her to put it on you, and then come back to me."

      "Oh! I wondered how you could get them the right size, papa," Elsie answered, as she skipped gayly out of the room.

      She was back again in a very few moments, arrayed in the pretty silk he had selected.

      "Ah! it seems to be a perfect fit," said he, turning her round and round, with a very gratified look.

      "Mammy must dress you to-morrow in one of these new frocks, and your pretty hat and pelisse."

      Elsie looked troubled.

      "Well, what is it?" he asked.

      "I am afraid I shall be thinking of them in church, papa, if I wear them then for the first time."

      "Pooh! nonsense! what harm if you do? This squeamishness, Elsie, is the one thing about you that displeases me very much. But there! don't look so distressed, my pet. I dare say you will get over it by-and-by, and be all I wish; indeed I sometimes think you have improved a little already, in that respect."

      Oh! what a pang these words sent to her heart! was it indeed true that she was losing her tenderness of conscience? that she was becoming less afraid of displeasing and dishonoring her Saviour than in former days? The very thought was anguish.

      Her head drooped upon her bosom, and the small white hands were clasped convulsively together, while a bitter, repenting cry, a silent earnest prayer for pardon and help went up to Him whose ear is ever open to the cry of His children.

      Her father looked at her in astonishment.

      "What is it, darling?" he asked, drawing her tenderly toward him, and pushing back the curls from her face; "why do you look so pained? what did I say that could have hurt you so? I did not mean to be harsh and severe, for it was a very trifling fault."

      She hid her face on his shoulder and burst into an agony of tears.

      "It was not that, papa, but—but——"

      "But what, my darling? don't be afraid to tell me," he answered, soothingly.

      "O papa! I—I am afraid I don't—love Jesus—as much as I did," she faltered out between her sobs.

      "Ah! that is it, eh? Well, well, you needn't cry any more. I think you are a very good little girl, though rather a silly one, I am afraid, and quite too morbidly conscientious."

      He took her on his knee as he spoke, wiped away her tears, and then began talking in a lively strain of something else.

      Elsie listened, and answered him cheerfully, but all the evening he noticed that whenever she was quiet, an unusual expression of sadness would steal over her face.

      "What a strange child she is!" he said to himself, as he sat musing over the fire, after sending her to bed. "I cannot understand her; it is very odd how often I wound, when I intend to please her."

      As for Elsie, she scarcely thought of her new finery, so troubled was her tender conscience, so pained her little heart to think that she had been wandering from her dear Saviour.

      But Elsie had learned that "if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous," and to Him she went with her sin and sorrow; she applied anew to the pardoning, peace-speaking blood of Christ—that "blood of sprinkling that speaketh better things than that of Abel;" and thus the sting of conscience was taken away and her peace restored, and she was soon resting quietly on her pillow, for, "so He giveth His beloved sleep."

      Even her father's keen, searching glance, when she came to him in the morning, could discover no trace of sadness in her face; very quiet and sober it was, but entirely peaceful and happy, and so it remained all through the day. Her new clothes did not trouble her; she was hardly conscious of wearing them, and quite able to give her usual solemn and fixed attention to the services of the sanctuary.

      "Where are you going, daughter?" Mr. Dinsmore asked, as Elsie gently withdrew her hand from his on leaving the dining-room.

      "To my room, papa," she replied.

      "Come with me," he said; "I want you."

      "What do you want me for, papa?" she asked, as he sat down and took her on his knee.

      "What for? why to keep, to love, and to look at," he said laughing. "I have been away from my little girl so long, that now I want her close by my side, or on my knee, all the time. Do you not like to be with me?"

      "Dearly well, my own darling papa," she answered, flinging her little arms around his neck, and laying her head on his breast.

      He fondled her, and chatted with her for some time, then, still keeping her on his knee, took up a book and began to read.

      Elsie saw with pain that it was a novel and longed to beg him to put it away, and spend the precious hours of the holy Sabbath in the study of God's word, or some of the lesser helps to Zion's pilgrims which the saints of our own or other ages have prepared. But she knew that it would be quite out of place for a little child like her to attempt to counsel or reprove her father; and that, tenderly as he loved and cherished her, he would never for one moment allow her to forget their relative positions.

      At length she ventured to ask softly, "Papa, may I go to my own room now?"

      "What for?" he asked; "are you tired of my company?"

      "No, sir, oh! no; but I want—" she hesitated and hung her head for an instant, while the rich color mounted to cheek and brow; then raising it again, she said fearlessly, "I always want to spend a little while with my best Friend on Sabbath afternoon, papa."

      He looked puzzled, and also somewhat displeased.

      "I don't understand you, Elsie," he said; "you surely can have no better friend than your own father; and can it be possible that you love any one else better than you love me?"

      Again the little arms were round his neck, and hugging him close and closer, she whispered, "It was Jesus I meant, papa; you know He loves me even better than you do, and I must love Him best of all; but there is no one else that I love half so much as I love you, my own dear, dear precious father."

      "Well, you may go; but only for a little while, mind," he answered, giving her a kiss,