y sorry for me, you
would try to teach me better."

"Perhaps; but I shall not have time. I suppose we shall go away very
early in the morning."

"I should like to show you the gardens, first."

"Haven't we seen them?"

"Why, of course not. All that you have seen is a little shrubbery and a
bit of the park. Suppose we go over the gardens in the morning?"

"I am sure we shall return home immediately after breakfast."

"Before breakfast then? Why not?"

This plan went into effect. It was an occasion of great pleasure to
both parties. No better time could be for seeing the utmost beauty of
the flowers; and Dolly wandered in what was to her a wilderness of an
enchanted land. Breakfast was forgotten; and young St. Leger was so
charmed with this perfectly fresh, simple, and lively nature, that he
for his part was willing to forget it indefinitely. Dolly's utter
delight, and her intelligent, quick apprehension, the sparkle in her
eye, the happy colour in her cheeks, made her to his fancy the rarest
thing he had ever seen. The gardener, who was summoned to give
information of which his young master was not possessed, entertained
quite the same opinion; and thanks to his admiring gratification Dolly
went back to the house the possessor of a most superb bouquet, which he
had cut for her and offered through Mr. St. Leger.

There were some significant half smiles around the breakfast table, as
the young pair and the flowers made their appearance. St. Leger braved
them; Dolly did not see them. Her sweet eyes were full of the blissful
enchantment still. Immediately after breakfast, as she had said, her
father took leave.

Mrs. Copley had awaited their coming in a mood half irritation, half
gratification. The latter conquered when she saw Dolly.

"Now tell me all about it!" she said, before Dolly even could take off
her bonnet.

"She went to the races," said Mr. Copley.

"That's a queer place for Dolly to go, Mr. Copley."

"Not at all. Everybody goes that can go."

"I think it's a queer place for young ladies to go," persisted the
mother.

"It is a queer place enough for anybody, if you come to that; but no
worse for them than for others; and it is they make the scene so pretty
as it is."

"I can't imagine how there should be anything pretty in seeing horses
run to death!" said Mrs. Copley.

"I just said it is the pretty girls that give the charm," said her
husband. "Though _I_ can see some beauty in a fine horse