mbarrassment. "Do you
think I cannot help myself? or how am I different from every other
gentleman who takes wine?"

"Father, a great many of them are ruined by it."

"Well, I am not ruined by it yet."

"Father, how can you tell what might be? Father, I can't bear it!"
Dolly could not indeed; she broke down. She sat on the floor and sobbed.

If Mr. Copley could have been angry with her; but he could not, she was
so sweet in every pleading look and tone. If he could have dismissed
her pleading as the whimsy of a fool; but he could not, for he knew it
was wise truth. If he had been further gone in the habit which was
growing upon him, to the point of brutality; but he was not yet; he was
a man of affectionate nature. So he did not get angry, and though he
wished Dolly at Brierley instead of in his room, he could not let her
break her heart, seeing that she was there. He looked at her in
uncomfortable silence for a minute or two; and then the bitterness of
Dolly's sobs was more than he could stand. He rose and put the bottle
away, locked it up, and came back to his place. Dolly's distress
hindered her knowing what he had done.

"It's gone," Mr. Copley said in an injured tone, as of one oppressed
and persecuted. "It is put away, Dolly; you need not sit there any
longer."

Dolly looked up, rose from the floor, came into her father's arms, laid
her two arms about his neck and her weary head upon his shoulder. It
was a soft little head, and the action was like a child. Mr. Copley
clasped her tenderly.

"Dolly," he said,--"my child--you are giving yourself a great deal more
trouble than you need."

Dolly murmured, "Thank you, father!"

"You mustn't be superstitious."

Alas! Dolly had seen his face already altered by the indulgence of his
new habits. Involuntarily her arms pressed him closer, and she only by
an effort prevented a new outbreak of bitter sorrow. That was not best
just now. She put a force upon herself; after a while looked up, and
kissed her father; kissed him again and again.

"I declare!" said Mr. Copley, half delighted and half
conscience-stricken, "you are a little witch, Dolly. Is this the way
you are going to rule other folks beside me? Mr. St. Leger, for
instance?"

"Mercy, father! no," said Dolly, recoiling.

"I don't believe he would be hard to manage. He's desperately in love
with you, Dolly."

"Father, I don't want to manage. And I don't think Lawrence is in any
danger. It isn't in h