"I have given you the last caress I ever shall, until you submit." He put the letters into her hand as he spoke, and motioned her to be gone; and Elsie fled away to her own room, to throw herself upon the bed, and weep and groan in intense mental anguish.
She cared not for the letters now; they lay neglected on the floor, where they had fallen unheeded from her hand.

The gloom on her pathway seemed all the darker for that bright but momentary gleam of sunshine.

So dark was the cloud that overshadowed her that for the time she seemed to have lost all hope, and to be able to think of nothing but the apparent impossibility of ever regaining her place in her father's heart.

His last words rang in her ears.
"Oh! papa, papa! my own papa!" she sobbed, "will you never love me again?
never kiss me, or call me pet names?
Oh, _how can_ I bear it! how can I ever live without your love ?" Her nerves, already weakened by months of mental suffering, could hardly bear the strain; and when Fanny came into the room, an hour or two later, she was quite frightened to find her young charge lying on the bed, holding her head with both hands and groaning, and speechless with pain.
"What's de matter darlin' ?" she asked; but Elsie only answered with a moan; and Fanny, in great alarm, hastened to Mr.Dinsmore's room, and startled him with the exclamation: "Oh, Massa Horace, make haste for come to de chile! she gwine die for sartain, if you don't do sumfin mighty quick!" "Why, what ails her, Fanny ?" he asked, following the servant with all speed.
"Dunno, Massa; but I'se sure she's berry ill," was Fanny's reply, as she opened the door of Elsie's room, and stepped back to allow her master to pass in first.
One glance at Elsie's face was enough to convince him that there was some ground for her attendant's alarm.

It was ghastly with its deadly pallor and the dark circles round the eyes, and wore an expression of intense pain.
He proceeded at once to apply remedies, and remained beside her until they had so far taken effect that she was able to speak, and looked quite like herself again.
"Elsie!" he said in a grave, firm tone, as he placed her more comfortably on her pillow, "this attack has been brought on by violent crying; you must not indulge yourself in that way again." "I could not help it, papa," she replied, lifting her pleading eyes to his face.
"You _must_ help it in future, Elsie," he said sternly.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she struggled to keep them back.
He turned to leave her, but she caught his hand, and looked so beseechingly in his face, that he stopped and asked in a softened tone, "What is it, my daughter ?" "Oh, papa!" she murmured in low, tremulous accents, "love me a little." "I do love you, Elsie," he replied gravely, and almost sadly, as he bent over her and laid his hand upon her forehead.