Her father sat, still holding the little hand, and still gazing
tenderly upon the sweet young face, till, something in its
expression reminding him of words she had just repeated,
"I want to be marked for thine own--
Thy seal on my forehead to wear,"
he laid it gently down, rose, and bent over her with a troubled
look.
"Ah, my darling, _that_ prayer is granted already!" he
murmured; "for, ah me! you seem almost too good and pure for
earth. But oh, God forbid that you should be taken from me to that
place where I can see that your heart is even now. How desolate
should I be!" and he turned away with a shiver and a heavy sigh,
and hastily quitted the room.
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH
"An angel face! its sunny wealth of hair,
In radiant ripples bathed the graceful throat
And dimpled shoulders."
--MRS. OSGOOD.
The cold gray light of a winter morning was stealing in through
the half-closed blinds as Elsie awoke, and started up in bed, with
the thought that this was the day on which several of her young
guests were expected, and that her papa had promised her a walk
with him before breakfast, if she were ready in time.
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