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Updated: June 16, 2025
There were seven of us in a gang in Chicago, and Elsie's father was the boss of the Joint. He was a clever man, was old Patrick. It was he who invented that writing, which would pass as a child's scrawl unless you just happened to have the key to it.
She was not conscious of any thought; her brain was too dizzy; but sat there clasping her forehead between her hands, and seeming to feel the whole world reel into darkness before her gaze. "Has he gone; where is he?" It was Elsie's voice; she had stolen into the room to learn how the matter had ended. "Can't you speak, Bessie; what did he say?"
Middleton gazed at his wife tenderly, but Elsie's youthful scorn increased. She was not sufficiently mature to understand that it shows something of character to look on kindly while another younger, fairer person steps in to fulfil duties that should have been one's own, even though one may have repudiated them.
I was well aware, from an anecdote related to me by Penny, that John Farquhar, the lad's father, was a stern disciplinarian. Elsie's elder sister, Jean, a lass of nineteen, had once happened to return home from confession rather later than usual one Saturday evening, owing to the exceptionally large number awaiting their turn in the church.
He worked for Dad and was right decent, till he got in with Slade and the business started." Lennon was not to be diverted to another subject. The mystery of Elsie's parentage intrigued him. With the realization that the two girls were not of blood kin, Lennon found himself dwelling upon the differences between them.
Travilla, were conversing together on the portico, when they were suddenly startled by a sound as of something falling. Travilla, who was nearest the door, rushed into the drawing-room, followed by the others. "A light! quick, quick, a light!" he cried, raising Elsie's insensible form in his arms; "the child has fainted."
I'm afraid you are getting sleepy, and you must not go to sleep, you know." "Oh, do leave me alone! I'm so tired." "But I can't leave you, Elsie; you are getting sleepy, and don't you remember what Lancy said?" and Dexie lifted her up and gave her a gentle shake. "Oh, do stop just a moment." "No, not a moment!" Dexie was fully aroused now, and realized Elsie's danger.
"Thank you, you are most kind," he said, a slight flush suffusing his cheek for an instant, while his eyes involuntarily sought Elsie's face with a wistful, longing look. Her father turned laughingly to her. "Is this your stranger of the picture-gallery? ah, are you not ashamed of failing to recognize so old a friend?"
Elsie's face flushed with pleasure, and she looked up gratefully; but before she had time to reply, Mrs. Carrington said, "Elsie, we want to take you home with us to spend a week; will you go?" "I should like to, very much, indeed, ma'am, if papa will let me," replied the little girl, looking wistfully up into his face. "Well, Mr. Dinsmore, what do you say?
The picnic party returned just before tea-time, and Lucy Carrington rushed into Elsie's room eager to tell her what a delightful day they had had.
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