sfying and also
concealing a certain promise. It was certainly the will of the Creator
that all things should be thus perfect, harmonious, and fair. What was
not, could be made so. But then again a shadow would come over this
sunshine, as Dolly remembered the anxieties she had brought from home
with her. She had meant to let herself look at them here, in solitude
and quiet; could she do it, now she was here? But when, if not now?
Gradually Dolly gave herself up to thinking, and forgot where she was,
or more correctly, saw the objects around her only through a veil of
her own thoughts.

She had several anxieties; she was obliged to confess it to herself
unwillingly; for indeed anxiety was so new to Dolly that she had hardly
entertained it in all her life before; and when it had knocked at her
door, she had answered that it came to the wrong place. However, she
could not but hear and heed the knock now; and she wanted to consider
the matter calmly and see whether the unwelcome visitor must be really
taken in, and lodged.

It was not her mother's condition. With the buoyancy of youth, and the
inexperience, Dolly expected that Mrs. Copley would soon get well. Her
trouble was about her father; and the worst thing about her mother's
state of nervous weakness was, that she could not talk to her on the
subject or get her help and co-operation. That is, if anything were to
be attempted to be done in the matter.--That was another question she
wanted to consider.

In the first place, she could not help seeing one thing; that Mr.
Copley was not flush with money as he used to be; as he had always
been, ever since Dolly could remember. It was wholly unlike him, to
send her and her mother down to this cottage with a household of two
women servants; barely enough for the work that was indispensably
necessary. Evidently, Mr. Copley entertained no idea of showing
hospitality here in the country, and Dolly thought he had been secretly
glad to be relieved of the necessity of doing it in town. Very unlike
him. It was unlike him, too, to content his pride with so meagre an
establishment. Mr. Copley loved to handle money, always spent it with a
lavish carelessness, and was rather fond of display. What had made this
change? Dolly had felt the change in still other and lesser things.
Money had not been immediately forthcoming when she asked for it lately
to pay her mantua maker's bill; and she had noticed on several
occasions that her fathe