most delightful, charming story," he went on, drawing them from his
pockets, and handing them to her as he spoke.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" she cried with eager gratitude, "I'm so glad,
if--if only papa will allow me to read it. May I, papa?"

"I can tell better when I have examined it, my child," Mr. Dinsmore
answered, taking one of the volumes from her hands and looking at the
title on the back. "'The Wide, Wide World!' What sort of a book is it,
Travilla?"

"A very good sort. I think. Just glance through it or read a few
pages, and I'm pretty sure it will be sufficient to satisfy you of,
not only its harmlessness, but that its perusal would be a benefit to
almost any one."

Mr. Dinsmore did so, Elsie standing beside him, her hand upon his arm,
and her eyes on his face--anxiously watching its changes of expression
as he read. They grew more and more satisfactory; the book was
evidently approving itself to his taste and judgment, and presently
he returned it to her, saying, with a kind fatherly smile, "Yes, my
child, you may read it. I have no doubt it deserves all the praise Mr.
Travilla has given it."

"Oh, thank you, papa, I'm very glad," she answered joyously, "I am
just hungry for a nice story." And seating herself near the light, she
was soon lost to everything about her in the deep interest with which
she was following Ellen Montgomery through her troubles and trials.

She was loath to lay the book aside when at the usual hour--a quarter