"I shall try, papa," she answered in a submissive and even cheerful tone.
That note, kindly worded though it was, caused great distress to Herbert Carrington. He passed an almost sleepless night, and the next morning, finding himself quite unable to rise from his couch, he sent an urgent entreaty that Mr. Dinsmore would call at Ashlands at his earliest convenience.
His request was granted at once, and the lad pleaded with all the eloquence of which he was master for a more favorable reception of his suit.
Had he been as well acquainted with Horace Dinsmore's character as Elsie was, he would have known the utter uselessness of such a proceeding. He received a patient hearing, then a firm, though kind denial. Elsie was entirely too young to be allowed even to think of love or matrimony, her father said; he was extremely sorry the subject had been broached to her; it must not be again for years. He would not permit any engagement, correspondence, or, for the present at least, any exchange of visits; because he wished the matter to be dropped entirely, and, if possible, forgotten. Nor would he hold out the slightest hope for the future; answering Herbert's petition for that by a gentle hint that one in his ill health should be content to remain single.
"Yes, you are right, Mr. Dinsmore, and I don't blame you for refusing to give me your lovely daughter; I'm entirely unworthy of such a treasure," said the poor boy in a broken voice.
"Not in character, my dear boy," said Mr. Dinsmore, almost tenderly; "in that you are all I could ask or desire, and it is all that you are responsible for. And now while she is such a mere child, I should reject any other suitor for her hand, quite as decidedly as I do you."
"I can't help it. I've loved her ever since I first saw her, and that was before I was five years old."
"Well, I don't object to a brotherly affection, and when you can tone it down to that, shall not forbid occasional intercourse. And now, with the best wishes for your health and happiness, I must bid you good-bye."
"Good-bye, sir; and thank you for your kindness in coming," the boy answered with a quivering lip. Then, turning to his mother, as Mr. Dinsmore left the room, "I shall never get over it," he said. "I shall not live long, and I don't want to; life without her isn't worth having."