"Do you like it, aunt?" asked Mildred, approaching Mrs. Dinsmore, as she was in the act of clasping the bracelet on her arm.

"Yes, it's very handsome; but I think there might as well have been a pair of them."

"Ah!" returned Mildred with a smile, directed toward Mr. Dinsmore; "little Elsie would have been glad to make it so, but uncle held the purse-strings, and was inexorably determined that it should be but one."

"Just like him!" said the wife, snappishly.

"My dear, I felt extremely mean in allowing so much as I did to be spent upon my family," he said, with a gravity that was almost stern.

"I don't see why you need," she replied, with irritation, "sacrificing the comfort of your family, as you are, by taking her in."

"I must confess," he returned, "that I see no sacrifice about it. The child will not be the slightest expense to us. But rather the reverse; nor will her presence in the house add in the very least to your cares."

"The children seem well pleased with their gifts," Mildred remarked, giving him a cheery smile, as she moved away toward them, gathered in a little throng about Elsie, amusing themselves by making her talk; asking her questions, and bidding her pronounce their names in turn, with the prefix of aunt or uncle.

"You're the darlingest little thing that ever was!" Adelaide exclaimed, catching her in her arms, and kissing her again and again.

"She's too pretty; nobody will ever look at us when she's by. I heard mamma say so," muttered Louise, discontentedly.

"Pooh! what's the use of talking in that way!" said Lora. "We can hide her up-stairs when we want to be looked at."

"Of course," said Mildred, laughing; "and being such a mere baby, I don't think you need fear that she will prove a serious rival."

"I'm her uncle," remarked Arthur drawing himself up, with dignity; "say Uncle Arthur again, baby girl."

"I isn't a baby," she said, smiling up into his face. "Elsie's a big girl now; Enna's de baby. Pretty baby! Elsie loves you!" she added, lovingly stroking Enna's hair.

"It's high time those children were in bed," said Mrs. Dinsmore, from the other side of the room. "Aunt Maria, take Enna and the boys to the nursery."

Aunt Chloe, not slow to take a hint, picked up her nursling and followed the other woman, Elsie looking back, and kissing her hand to her grandfather, with a pleasant "Good-night, grandpa; good-night, Enna's mamma, and all de folks."

Mildred went with them to enjoy a little talk and play with the child, as had been her custom at Viamede, but did not venture to stay long, lest Mrs. Dinsmore should be displeased at her absenting herself from the drawing-room on this first evening after her return.

On going down again, she found Mr. Landreth there. He spent the evening, and made himself very agreeable. Mildred was quite full of Viamede, and its little heiress, and he seemed much interested in all she had to say about them.

Mr. Landreth was a favorite with Mrs. Dinsmore; she considered him an excellent match in point of wealth and family, possessed also of the added recommendations of good education, polished address and genial disposition.

He had been a frequent visitor to Roselands in the past months, and she had spared no pains to show off to him the attractions of her nieces, and throw him as much as possible into their society; at the same time adroitly keeping Mildred in the background.

But the young man was sufficiently keen-sighted to see through her schemes, and while seemingly falling in with them, in reality reserved all his admiration for Mildred; who on her part was taken up with other interests, and thought of him only as a pleasant acquaintance, whose visits to the house meant nothing to her.

Mrs. Dinsmore had been disappointed by her failure to secure him for one or the other of her nieces; but they were now engaged, and having come to have as warm a liking for our heroine as it was in her selfish nature to entertain for any one not connected with herself by ties of blood, she desired, as the next best thing, to bring about a match between her and Mr. Landreth.

But Mildred did not second her efforts, showing no particular preference for Mr. Landreth's society above that of any one of the half dozen or more other unmarried gentlemen who frequented the house.

She treated them all courteously, but gave encouragement to none, seeming far more interested in little Elsie, and in the studies almost discontinued during her stay at Viamede, but taken up again with renewed zeal directly on her return to Roselands.

But Mr. Landreth was not to be discouraged; he paid court to Elsie, learning soon to love the little creature for her own sweet sake, and managed after a time to associate himself with several of Mildred's pursuits.

The time had now arrived when, according to the original plan, Mildred was to return home, and those who loved her there were looking forward with eager impatience for her coming.

But Mr. Dinsmore wrote to her parents, entreating that he might be allowed to keep her some months longer, and bringing forward several cogent reasons why his request should be granted; Mildred was improving in health, making the best use of opportunities to perfect herself in accomplishments, etc.; was a most pleasant companion to himself and wife, ought not to be permitted to undertake the long journey alone; and at present no suitable escort could be found.

The parents carefully weighed his arguments, and for their child's sake finally gave consent, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

Mildred was both glad and sorry, having a yearning desire for home and its dear occupants, but at the same time feeling that the parting from wee Elsie would be very sad; so tender was the attachment that had sprung up between herself and the motherless babe.

Pity was a large element in Mildred's love for the child, and that increased as the weeks and months rolled on; for both the grandfather and the young uncles and aunts, yielding gradually to Mrs. Dinsmore's baleful influence, treated her with less kindness and consideration; while Mrs. Dinsmore's tyranny was such that not unfrequently Mildred could scarce refrain from expressing violent indignation.

The child was not subjected to blows, but angry looks and harsh words and tones, that to her sensitive spirit were worse than blows would have been to a more obtuse nature, were plentifully dealt out to her; also ridicule, sneers and snubs.

And there was no respect shown to her rights of property; the other children might rob her of her toys, books and pictures, with entire impunity, if she ventured to carry them outside her own room; Mrs. Dinsmore averring that if she showed them, and so excited a desire for them in the breasts of her children, she deserved to lose them.

"She is quite able to afford to present them with anything they want," she would add, "and I am not going to have them tormented with the sight of pretty things that are to be refused them."

Elsie was so unselfish and generous that, as a usual thing, she could be easily induced to give even what she highly valued; but to have her possessions laid violent hands upon and forced from her outraged her sense of justice, and though she seldom offered much resistance, it often cost her many bitter tears.

She was a careful little body, who never destroyed anything, and her loving nature made her cling even to material things, in some instances, which she had owned and amused herself with for years; an old dollie, that she had loved and nursed from what was to her time immemorial, was so dear and precious, that no new one, however beautiful and fine, could possibly replace it. And a living pet took such a place in her heart from the first—a tame squirrel that she had brought with her, and a white dove given her by Mr. Landreth soon after her arrival.

But all these were taken from her; the doll had to be resigned to Enna, the dove to Walter, and the squirrel to Arthur.

There was a short struggle each time, then she gave it up and sobbed out her sorrow in her mammy's arms, or on Mildred's sympathizing bosom.

"Oh, Elsie wants to go back to her own dear home!" she would cry. "Can't Elsie go back? Must Elsie stay here, where dey take her fings all away?"

Mildred at first hoped her uncle would interfere; but no, he did not enjoy contention with his wife, and, like many another man, could not understand how things of value so trifling in his sight, could be worth so much to the child.

He was willing to replace them, and thought it only ill-temper and stubbornness when she refused to be comforted in that manner.

It was a sore trial to the three hearts in the house that loved her so dearly; but all they could do was to soothe her with caresses and assurances of their love, and of the love of Jesus, and that if she bore her trials with meekness and patience, returning good for evil to those who used her so ill, it would be pleasing to Him.

Mildred would talk to her of her papa, too, and the happy times she would have when he came home;—how he would love and pet and fondle her.

"For surely," she reasoned with herself, "he cannot possibly do otherwise when he sees how sweet and lovely she is."

The prospect seemed to give the little one intense pleasure, and she would often ask to be told "'bout de time when Elsie's dear papa will come."

She would watch her grandfather, too, as he petted and fondled his little ones, with a wistful longing in the sweet brown eyes that brought tears to those of Mildred, and made her heart ache.