The Two Elsies | Page 6

from one so near and dear."
"No, mamma dear, nor could we think of refusing," answered her daughter, quickly, glancing tenderly at her husband as she spoke, and receiving a grateful, loving look in return.
"Certainly not," said Mr. Dinsmore; "but I see no reason why you should not accompany us on our voyage, spend a few days at Nantucket, and then go on to New York. Do you, Lester?"
"No, sir; and if my little wife approves of that plan, we will adopt it,"
He turned inquiringly to her.
"I should like it very much," she said. "If you are quite sure it will not delay us too long," she added as an after-thought.
"No, scarcely at all, I think," returned Lester; "so we will consider that settled."
"Ah, I am glad that we shall not lose your company altogether," Mrs. Travilla said. "And do not despair for your brother, Lester, for many very sick people have recovered, even after being given up by the doctors. We know, too, that with God nothing is impossible, and that He is the hearer and answerer of prayer. We will unite our petitions in behalf of Eric, and if it shall be for God's glory and his good, he will be restored to health."
"Yes, mother; I have not a doubt of that," returned Mr. Leland, "nor of my dear brother's safety in any case. He is one who has lived the life of a Christian for years, and I am sure dying grace will be given him for dying time--whenever that shall come."
"And well may you be," said Mrs. Travilla, "for not one of all God's promises ever fails, and to each of His children He has said, 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be.'"
"If you want to answer your letter by return of mail, Lester, do not let us hinder you," said Mr. Dinsmore. "We are going to the village presently, and will mail it for you, if you like."
"Thank you; then I shall write at once," Lester replied, as he rose and left them.
"This change of plan will involve some change in your intended preparations, will it not, Elsie?" asked Mrs. Travilla.
"Not very much, mamma, as we are not likely to take part in any gayeties. I shall not need to have any new dresses made; indeed, I think I have already a full supply of everything necessary or desirable, in the way of dress, for both baby and myself."
"Then you will be ready for the trip as soon as any of us?" her grandfather said inquiringly.
"Yes, sir; I could pack to-day and start this evening if desired to do so," she answered with a smile.
"We will not put you to the test," he said, "but we hope to sail next Tuesday."

CHAPTER III.
"We all do fade as a leaf." (Is. lxiv. 6.)
A fortnight had passed since the day of the reader's introduction to the dwellers in Crag Cottage; the June roses were blooming about it in even richer profusion than before; tree, and shrub and vine were laden with denser foliage; the place looked a very bower of beauty to the eyes of Lester and his Elsie as the hack which had brought them from the nearest steamboat-landing slowly wound its way up the hill on which the cottage stood.
On the vine-covered porch Eric lay in a hammock, his little daughter, as usual, by his side.
Though losing flesh and strength day by day, he still persevered with his work; had spent some hours over it this morning, but was resting now, his cheek fanned by the pure, sweet air from the mountain and river, his eyes now feasting upon the beauties of the surrounding scenery, and anon turning with fond, fatherly affection upon the face of the child he loved so well.
She was proving herself an excellent nurse for one of her age; never weary of waiting upon her loved patient, always striving to anticipate his every want, and doing her best to entertain him and make him forget his pain.
She was talking of their expected guests.
"I am so glad they are coming, papa," she said, "for I hope it will cheer you and do you much good to see your brother."
"And sister," he added with a faint smile; "your Aunt Elsie is a very lovely and interesting woman."
"Yes, but I hope they will let me have my father to myself sometimes," she said, laying her cheek lovingly against the hand that was clasping hers. "I'm hardly willing to share you even with Uncle Lester."
"No, not all the time," he responded; "we must have an hour alone together now and then. I should not like to be deprived of it any more than you."
She had lifted her head, and was gazing toward the river. "Papa, I think they are here!" she exclaimed. "There is a carriage