I think being up so late last night made them feel cross." "Ah!" he said, in a sympathizing tone; "and had you all the burden of entertaining them?
Where were Louise and Lora ?" "They are hardly ever with us, papa; we are too little to play with them, they say, and Enna won't do anything her little friends want her to, and"-- she paused, and the color rushed over her face with the sudden thought--"I am afraid I am telling tales." "And so they put upon you all the trouble of entertaining both your own company and theirs, eh?
It is shameful! a downright imposition, and I shall not put up with it!" he exclaimed indignantly.

"I shall speak to Lora and Louise, and tell them they must do their share of the work." "Please, papa, _don't_," Elsie begged in a frightened tone.

"I would a great deal rather just go on as we have been; they will be so vexed." "And suppose they are! they shall not hurt you," he said, drawing her closer to him; "and they have no reason to be.

I think the children will all want to go to bed early to-night," he added, "and then you can come here and sit by me while you copy your letter; shall you like that ?" "Very much, papa, thank you." "Well, then we will put on the shoes and stockings again," he said pleasantly, "and then you must bathe your eyes, and go to your supper; and, as soon as the others retire, you may come back to me." Elsie had to make haste, for the tea-bell rang almost immediately.
The others were just taking their places at the table when she entered the room, and thus, their attention being occupied with the business in hand, she escaped the battery of questions and looks of curiosity which she had feared.
Flora did turn round after a little, to ask: "Why didn't you come back, Elsie; wouldn't your papa let you play ?" But Elsie's quiet "no" seemed to satisfy her, and she made no further remark about it.
As Mr.Dinsmore had expected, the children were all ready for bed directly after tea; and then Elsie went to him, and had another quiet evening, which she enjoyed so much that she thought it almost made up for all the troubles and trials of the day; for her father, feeling a little remorseful on account of her long imprisonment in the closet, was, if possible, even more than usually tender and affectionate in his manner toward her.
The next morning Mr.Dinsmore found an opportunity to remonstrate with his sisters on their neglect of the little guests, but did it in such a way that they had no idea that Elsie had been complaining of them--as, indeed, she had not--but supposed that he had himself noticed their remissness; and feeling somewhat ashamed of their want of politeness, they went into the children's room after breakfast, and exerted themselves for an hour or two, for the entertainment of the little ones.
It was but a spasmodic effort, however, and they soon grew weary of the exertion, and again let the burden fall upon Elsie.

She did the best she could, poor child, but these were tiresome and trying days from that until New Year's.
One afternoon Mr.Horace Dinsmore was sitting in his own room, buried in an interesting book, when the door opened and closed again very quietly, and his little girl stole softly to his side, and laying her head on his shoulder, stood there without uttering a word.
For hours she had been exerting herself to the utmost to amuse the young guests, her efforts thwarted again and again by the petulance and unreasonableness of Walter and Enna; she had also borne much teasing from Arthur, and fault-finding from Mrs.Dinsmore, to whom Enna was continually carrying tales, until, at length, no longer able to endure it, she had stolen away to her father to seek for comfort.
"My little girl is tired," he said, passing his arm affectionately around her, and pressing his lips on her forehead.
She burst into tears, and sobbed quite violently.
"Why, what is it, darling?
what troubles my own sweet child ?" he asked, in a tone of mingled surprise and alarm, as he hastily laid aside his book and drew her to his knee.
"Nothing, papa; at least, nothing very bad; I believe I am very silly," she replied, trying to smile through her tears.
"It must have been something, Elsie," he said, very gravely; "something quite serious, I think, to affect you so; tell me what it was, daughter." "Please don't ask me, papa," she begged imploringly.
"I hate concealments, Elsie, and shall be very much displeased if you try them with me," he answered, almost sternly.
"Dear papa, _don't_ be angry," she pleaded, in a tremulous tone; "I don't want to have any concealments from you, but you know I ought not to tell tales.