Elsie at Home Part 12

"Oh, we are lovers," she answered with a bright smile up into his eyes.

"But then we are not of the same s.e.x."

"And that, you think, makes a difference, eh?" he laughed. "But Max and Ned seem to love me nearly as well as my daughters do."

"Every bit as much, papa!" exclaimed Ned earnestly. "I do, I'm sure."

"That is pleasant to hear, my boy," his father said, smiling fondly upon the little fellow. "And I presume brother Max would say the same if he were here. Ah, we have reached home"; for at that moment the carriage turned in at the great gates.

"Our own sweet, lovely home!" said Grace, looking out upon the beautiful grounds with s.h.i.+ning eyes. "I am always glad to get back to it, no matter where I have been."

"I too," said Lucilla; "unless my father is somewhere else," she added, giving him a most loving look.

"Ah, I wasn't thinking of being in it without papa," said Grace. "I'd rather live in a hovel with him than in a palace without him."

"I don't doubt it, my darling," he returned. "I am entirely sure of the love of both of you, and of all my children."

"And of your wife, I hope," added Violet in a sprightly tone.

"Yes, indeed, my love, or I should not be the happy man I am," he responded; then, as the carriage drew up before the entrance to the mansion, he threw open the door, alighted, and handed them out in turn.

"The children seem to be tired," remarked Violet; "do you not think they might as well go at once to their beds, my dear?"

"Yes," he said. "Grace also; for she looks as weary as they."

"Thank you, papa," she said. "I am tired enough to be glad to do so. But don't be anxious," she added with a smile, as he gave her a troubled look; "I am not at all sick; it is only weariness." And she held up her face for a kiss, which he gave heartily and with a look of tenderest fatherly affection.

The two little ones claimed their turn; then Violet and the three went upstairs, leaving the captain and Lucilla alone together.

"Didn't you say you had some letters to write when you came home, papa?" she asked; "and can't I help you?"

"I say yes to both questions," he answered pleasantly. "Take off your hat and come with me into the library. But perhaps you are too tired,"

he added hastily, as if just struck by the thought. "If so, daughter, I would not have you exert yourself to do the work now. It can wait till to-morrow morning. Or, if I find anything needing an immediate reply, I can attend to it myself, without my little girl's a.s.sistance."

"But I am not tired, papa, and I dearly love to help you in any and every way that I can," she answered, smiling up into his eyes.

"I do not doubt it in the least, my child," he said, laying his hand on her head in tender, fatherly fas.h.i.+on; "and you are a very great help and comfort to me; so much so that I shall be extremely loath ever to let anybody rob me of my dear eldest daughter."

"I hardly think anybody wants to yet, papa," she laughed; "n.o.body seems to set anything like the value upon me that you do. So you needn't be in the least afraid of ever being robbed of this one of your treasures.

Ah, papa, it is so nice--such a happiness to have you esteem me a treasure, and to know that I belong to you."

"A happiness to me as well as to you, dear child," he said. "Well, we will look at the letters and decide whether it is necessary to answer any of them to-night."

They had entered the library and drawn near the table while they talked.

A pile of letters lay upon it. He took them up and glanced at the superscription upon each.

"Ah! here is one directed to you, daughter," he said, "and from someone in this neighborhood; for it is without a stamp."

"Probably from Maud or Sydney," she remarked.

"No," said her father, "the handwriting is evidently that of a man.

Well, you may open it and see who the writer is," handing it to her as he spoke.

"If you would rather I did not, papa, I do not want to," she said, not offering to take it. "Please read it first."

"I can trust you, daughter, and you have my full permission to read it," he said in a kindly indulgent tone.

"Thank you, papa; but I really prefer to have you read it first," she replied.

He smiled approval, broke the seal, and glanced over the missive.

"It is from Chester Dinsmore," he said; "merely an invitation to you to go with him to a boating party on the river, if your father gives consent."

"Which I don't believe my father will," laughed Lucilla.

"And you are not anxious that he should?" he queried with a smile.

"Not unless he is entirely willing to have me go; and hardly even then, as he is not to be one of the party."

"That is my own good little girl," he said, putting an arm about her, drawing her close to his side, and kissing her several times. "I am not willing to have you a young lady yet,--as I think you know,--but I want to keep you my own little girl for some time longer."

"I am very glad that you do, papa," she returned, laying her head against his breast and putting her arms about his neck, "and I hope you won't ever, ever grow tired of keeping me for your own, altogether yours, with no partner in the concern," she added with a low, gleeful laugh.

"You need have no fear that I will grow tired of it until you do," he said with a smile, and repeating his caresses. "But when that time comes do not hesitate to tell me: for, rest a.s.sured, your happiness is very dear to your father's heart. And if you would like to accept this invitation, you may do so with my full consent."

"Thank you, father dear, but I really do not care to go; I should much prefer to keep the engagement already made for that day."

"Ah! what is that?"

"Now, papa, have you forgotten that you are to take Mamma Vi, Gracie, and me into the city to do some shopping?"

"Ah, yes; I had forgotten it for the moment. But I dare say both your mamma and Grace would be willing to defer that for a day or two."

"But I wouldn't, because my father has taught me not to break engagements without very strong reasons; which I don't think I have in this case."

He laughed a little at that. "Well, daughter," he said, "you shall do as you please about it, and I am glad to see that you are so good at remembering your father's instructions and so ready to obey them."

"Thank you, sir. And now must I answer Chester's note--or will you do it for me?"

"That shall be just as you please, daughter. Perhaps it would be as well for you to write the answer; but, if you greatly prefer to have me do so, I shall not refuse."

"May I do it on the typewriter?"

"If you prefer it, I see no objection."

"I do prefer it; it is so much easier and quicker than working with a pen," she said.

"Perhaps you would better wait until to-morrow morning, however," he suggested; "for, on thinking the matter over, you may find that you prefer to accept the invitation after all."

He was examining the rest of his mail, and she considered his proposition for a moment before replying to it.