Mr. Dinsmore was seated at his desk with a pile of papers before
him--legal documents in appearance; he would open one, glance over its
contents, lay it aside, and take up another only to treat it in like
manner.

Elsie stood but a moment watching him with loving, admiring eyes, then
gliding noiselessly across the floor, dropped gracefully at his feet and
laying her folded hands upon his knee looked up into his face with an
arch, sweet smile.

"Mon père, I have come for my lecture, or whatever you have laid up in
store for me," she announced with mock gravity and a slight tremble of
pretended fear in her voice.

Dropping the paper he held, and passing one hand caressingly over her
shining hair, "My darling, how very, very lovely you are!" he said, the
words bursting spontaneously from his lips; "there is no flaw in your
beauty, and your face beams with happiness."

"Papa turned flatterer!" she cried, springing up and allowing him to draw
her to his knee.

"I'm waiting for the lecture," she said presently, "you know I always like
to have disagreeable things over as soon as possible."

"Who told you there was to be a lecture?"

"Nobody, sir."