Mr. Dinsmore started slightly.

"I believe she _is_ a little pale," he replied in a tone of annoyance;
"but as she makes no complaint, I do not think there can be anything
seriously amiss."

"Perhaps not," said the lady indifferently; "but if she were _my_ child I
should be afraid she was going into a decline."

"Really, Mrs. Grey, I don't know what should put such a notion into your
head!" exclaimed Mrs. Dinsmore, "for I assure you Elsie has always been
a perfectly healthy child since I have known her."

"Ah! well; it was but the thought of a moment," replied Mrs. Grey, rising
to take leave, "and I am glad to hear there is no ground for fear, for
Elsie is certainly a very sweet little girl."

Mr. Dinsmore handed Mrs. Grey to her carriage, and re-entering the house
went into the little back parlor where Elsie, the only other occupant of
the room, sat reading, in the corner of the sofa.

He did not speak to her, but began pacing back and forth across the
floor. Mrs. Grey's words had alarmed him; he could not forget them, and
whenever in his walk his face was turned towards his child, he bent his
eyes upon her with a keen, searching gaze; and he was surprised that he
had not before noticed how thin, and pale, and careworn that little face
had grown.

"Elsie," he said suddenly, pausing in his walk.