Yes, Elsie had lost her fear of her father, and could now talk to
him, and tell him her feelings and wishes, as freely as ever Enna
did; and no wonder, for in all these weeks he had never given her
one harsh word or look; but indeed he had had no occasion to do
so, for she was always docile and obedient.
It was Sabbath afternoon--the first Sabbath after their return--
and Elsie was in her own room alone with the books she loved best
--her Bible, hymnbook, and "Pilgrim's Progress."
She had spent a very happy hour in self-examination, reading and
prayer, and was singing to herself in a low tone her favorite
hymn,
"I lay my sins on Jesus,"
while turning over the leaves of her Bible to find the story of
Elijah, which she had promised to read to Chloe that afternoon,
when a child's footsteps were heard coming down the hall, the
handle of the door was turned hastily, and then, as it refused to
yield, Enna's voice called out in a fretful, imperious tone, "Open
this door, Elsie Dinsmore. I want in, I say."
Elsie sighed, as she thought, "There is an end to my nice
afternoon," but she rose at once, and quickly crossing the room,
opened the door, asking pleasantly, "What do you want, Enna?"
"I _told_ you I wanted to come _in_," replied Enna,
saucily, "and now you've got to tell me a story to amuse me; mamma
says so, because you know I've got a cold, and she won't let me go
out.
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