bell.

"How--a--how did you get here?" was the next question, put in evident
embarrassment.

"You wouldn't come to Brierley, father; so I had to come to London. I
came with a friend."

"St. Leger?"

"St. Leger! No, indeed. Oh, I came with a very nice friend, who took
good care of me. Now, here's your breakfast."

Dolly was glad of the chance to get upon common everyday ground, till
her breath should be free again. She helped arrange the dishes;
dismissed the maid; poured out Mr. Copley's coffee and served him.

"Better take some yourself, Dolly. Had your breakfast? Let Mrs. Bunce
do you another chop."

Dolly at first said no; but presently felt that she was faint and
exhausted, and agreed to the suggestion. She rang for another cup and
plate, and ordered the chop. Meanwhile Mr. Copley drank coffee and made
a poor hand of the rest of his breakfast.

"What did you come up for, Dolly?"

"To see you, sir."

"You might have waited for that."

"But how long? I had waited."

"What's up?--if your mother's well."

"I wanted to talk to you, father, and I couldn't do it in letters;
because there the talking was all on one side, and I wanted to hear
what you would say."

"Why, didn't I answer you?"

"No, sir."

"Well, what do you want, Dolly?"

"I want a great deal, father. Wait, please, till I get my chop; for I
cannot talk to you till I do."

"'Ill talking between a full man and a fasting,' eh? Well, here's your
breakfast."

It was only the bespoken cup and plate, however, and Mr. Copley had to
wait longer. It came at last, the chop; and till it came Dolly said no
more. Her father watched her, and watched her, and could not take his
eyes off her. The flush on her cheek and the sparkle in her eye, the
moisture still lingering on her eyelashes, how sweet she was! and how
indefinably lovely! Dolly had grown into a woman; she had the presence
and poise that belong to a high-bred woman; and yet she had not lost
her girlhood nor grown out of its artless graces; and as Mr. Copley
looked he saw now and then a very childlike trembling of the under lip.
It troubled his heart. He had been very uncomfortable ever since his
meeting with his daughter; the discomfort began now to develope into
the stings and throes of positive pain. What was she there for? whence
had come that agony of tears? and why when those tears were pouring
from her eyes did her soft arm clasp him so? did she want help from
him? or for him? Mr