ation. How
many visits they made to it I dare not say; Dolly never had enough; and
her delight was so much of a feast to her father that he did not grudge
the time nor mind what he would have called the dawdling. Indeed it was
a sort of refuge to Mr. Copley, when business perplexities or
iterations had fairly wearied him, which sometimes happened; then he
would flee away from the dust and confusion of present life in the city
and lose himself with Dolly in the cool shades of the past. That might
seem dusty to him too; but there was always a fresh spring of life in
his little daughter which made a green place for him wherever she
happened to be. So Mr. Copley was as contented with the condition of
things at this time as it was in his nature to feel. He had enough
society, as his wife had stated; he had all he wanted in that line; he
was just as well contented to keep Dolly for the present at home and to
himself. He did not want her to be snapped up by somebody, he said; and
if you don't mean to have a fire, you had best not leave matches lying
about; a sentiment which Mrs. Copley received with great scorn.

It would have, so far, suited the views of both parents, to send Dolly
to some first-rate boarding school for a year or two. Only, they could
not do without her. She was the staple of Mrs. Copley's life, and the
spice of life to her husband. Dolly was kept at home therefore, and
furnished with masters in music and drawing, and at her pressing
request, in languages also. And just because she made diligent,
conscientious use of these advantages and worked hard most of the time,
Dolly the more richly enjoyed an occasional half day of wandering about
with her father. She came home from her visit to the Bank of England in
high glee and with a brave appetite for her late luncheon.

"Well," said Mrs. Copley, watching her,--"now you have tired yourself
out again; and for what?"

"O mother, it was a very great sight!" said Dolly. "I wish you had been
along. I think it has given me the best notion of the greatness of
England that I have got from anything yet."

"Money isn't _everything_," said Mrs. Copley scornfully. "I dare say we
have just as good banks in America."

"Father says, there is nothing equal to it in the world."

"That is because your father is so taken with everything English. He'd
be sure to say that. I don't know why a bank in America shouldn't be as
good as a bank here, or anywhere."

"It isn't that, m