"But with the very same Almighty Friend their mother has to watch over and protect, to comfort and sustain them." "Yes, papa! Oh, I ought not to have one anxious thought about them!" "When such thoughts will arise, dear child, turn them into petitions on their behalf, and believing in God's willingness to hear and answer prayer, your heart may grow light. "But this is not exactly what I came to talk about." Then he repeated the substance of his conversation with Capt. Raymond, and asked what answer she would give. Her surprise was as great as her father's had been, and a look of sore pain came into her face as she exclaimed, "Violet! my little Vi! must I lose her too?" "Perhaps not, dearest; it may be that she cares nothing for him. But you need decide nothing to-night, and must try not to let the question keep you awake." For a moment she seemed lost in thought, then lifting to his, eyes brimful of tears, "Papa," she said tremulously, "I cannot stand in the way of my child's happiness, therefore I must let him speak, and learn from her own lips whether she cares for him or not." "Yes, I think you are right. And now, daughter dear, I must bid you good-night. But first I want you to promise me that you will determinately cast this care on the Lord, and not let it rob you of needed sleep." They had both risen, and as he spoke he took her in his arms and held her close to his heart. "I will, papa, in obedience to Him and to you," she said, while for a moment her arm was about his neck, her head laid upon his breast. CHAPTER XIII. "On you most loved, with anxious fear I wait, And from your judgment must expect my fate." --_Addison_. Naturally Elsie's first waking thoughts on the following morning were of Violet and her future. She was not a "match-making mamma," not at all desirous to be rid of her daughters, and had never once thought of Capt. Raymond as a possible suitor for Violet. He was not a very young man, and it was difficult to realize that Vi was grown up enough for her hand to be sought in marriage by even one near her own age, much less by the father of a family whose eldest child could not be very many years younger than she. "She surely cannot fancy him!" the mother said to herself with a sigh of relief; but instantly came the remembrance that the disparity of years had been still greater between herself and the husband she had loved with all the strength of her nature--so loved that never for a moment could she admit the idea of the possibility that any other could fill his place in her heart. What more could she ask for her beloved child, for this life, than such wedded bliss as she herself had known? But how could she spare her! especially so soon after resigning her sweet namesake daughter to another. It was only the unselfishness of her mother love which could at all reconcile her to the thought.