Holidays at Roselands | Page 3

or the
library, as I have letters to write."
"Oh, then, papa, please let me stay with you! I would like it much better
than going to the party; will you, papa? please say yes."
"But you know I cannot talk to you, or let you talk; so that it will be

very dull," he said, pushing back the curls from the fair forehead, and
smiling down into the eager little face.
"Oh! but if you will only let me sit beside you and read one of my new
books, I shall be quite contented, and sit as quiet as a little mouse, and
not say one word without leave. Mayn't I, papa?"
"I said you should do as you pleased, darling, and I always love to have
my pet near me."
"Oh, then I shall stay!" she cried, clapping her hands.
Then, with a happy little sigh, "It will be so nice," she said, "to have
one of our quiet evenings again." And she knew, by her father's
gratified look, that she had decided as he would have had her.
A servant put his head in at the door.
"Massa Horace, dere's a gen'leman in de library axin for to see you."
"Very well, Jim, tell him I will be there in a moment. Elsie, dear, put
away your books, and go down to your little friends."
"Yes, papa, I will," she replied, as he went out and left her.
"How kind papa is to me, and how I do love him!" she murmured to
herself as she placed the books carefully in the drawer where they
belonged.
She found Lucy and Mary busily engaged in dressing a doll, and Carry
deeply interested in a book. But several of the little ones were looking
quite disconsolate.
"Oh, Elsie, do come and play with us," said Flora; "Enna won't play
anything we like. We've been playing keeping house, but Enna will be
mother all the time, and she scolds and whips us so much that we are
all tired of it."
"Well, what shall we play?" asked Elsie, good-naturedly. "Will you

build houses?"
"No, I'm tired of that, because Enna takes all the blocks," said another
little girl. "She isn't at all polite to visitors, is she, Flora?"
"No," replied Flora, "and I don't ever mean to come to see her again."
"I don't care," retorted Enna, angrily, "and I don't take all the blocks,
either."
"Well, most all, you do," said the other, "and it isn't polite."
"They're mine, and I'll have as many as I want; and I don't care if it
_isn't_ polite," Enna answered, with a pout that by no means improved
her appearance.
"Will you play 'O sister, O Phebe?'" asked Elsie.
"No, no!" cried several little voices, "Enna always wants to be in the
middle; and besides, Arthur always wants to play, and he will kiss us;
and we don't like it."
Elsie was almost in despair; but Herbert, who was lying on a sofa,
reading, suddenly shut his book, saying, "I tell you what, Elsie! tell us
one of those nice fairy stories we all like so much!"
"Yes, do, do!" cried several of the little ones, clapping their hands.
So Elsie drew up a stool close to Herbert's sofa, and the little ones
clustered around her, Enna insisting on having the best place for
hearing; and for more than an hour she kept them quiet and interested;
but was very glad when at last the maid came to take them out walking,
thus leaving her at liberty to follow her own inclination.
"What are you going to do now, Elsie?" asked Caroline, closing her
book.
"I am going down to the drawing-room to ask Aunt Adelaide to show
me how to crochet this mitten for mammy," Elsie answered.

"Won't you come along, girls?"
"Yes, let's take our sewing down there," said Lucy, gathering up the
bits of muslin and silk, and putting them in her work-box.
Elsie glanced hastily around as they entered, and gave a satisfied little
sigh on perceiving that Miss Stevens was not in the room, and that her
Aunt Adelaide was seated with her embroidery near one of the
windows, while her papa sat near by, reading the morning paper.
The little girls soon established themselves in a group on the opposite
side of Miss Adelaide's window, and she very good-naturedly gave
Elsie the assistance she needed.
"Elsie," said Lucy, presently, in an undertone, "Carry has been showing
us her bracelet, and I think it is beautiful; she won't tell whose hair it
is--I guess it's her sister's, maybe--but I'm sure yours would make just
as pretty a bracelet, and I want one for my mamma; won't you give me
one of your curls to make it? you have so many