an effort, took his arm and went swiftly back on
the way to the hotel. He had not been able to say one word. Rupert
could not have the faintest notion of the experience which had pointed
and sharpened Dolly's last words; he could not imagine why, as they
walked home, she should catch a hasty breath now and then, as he knew
she did, a breath which was almost a sob; but Rupert Babbage was
Dolly's devoted slave from that day.

Lawrence himself marvelled somewhat at the appearance and manner of the
young lady in the evening. The talk and the thoughts had roused and
stirred Dolly, with partly the stir of pain, but partly also the sense
of work to do and the calling up of all her loving strength to do it.
Her cheek had a little more colour than usual, her eye a soft hidden
fire, her voice a thrill of tender power. She was like, Lawrence
thought, a most rare wild wood flower, some spiritual orchis or
delicious and delicate geranium; in contrast to the severely trained,
massive and immoveable tulips and camellias of society. She was at a
vexatious distance from him, however; and handled him with a calm
superiority which no woman of the world could have improved upon. Only
it was nature with Dolly.

CHAPTER XIX.

SEEING SIGHTS.

The next day's journey was uninteresting and slow. Mrs. Copley grew
tired; and even dinner and rest at a good hotel failed to restore her
spirits.

"How many more days will it be before we get to Dresden?" she desired
to know.

"Keep up your courage, Mrs. Copley," said Lawrence. "Remember the Green
vaults! We have some work before us yet to get there."

"We shall not get there to-morrow?"

"We shall hardly do more than reach Cassel to-morrow."

"I don't know anything about Cassel. Will it be nothing but sand all
the way, like to-day? We have left everything pretty behind us in
Holland."

"I think the way will mend a little," Lawrence allowed.

"What place is next to Cassel?"

"As our resting place for the night? I am afraid it will take us two
days to get to Weimar."

"And then Dresden?"

"No, then Leipzig."

"Oh, I should like to see Leipzig," cried Dolly.

"What for?" said her mother. "I am sure all these places are nothing to
us, and I think the country is very stupid. And I like travelling where
I know what the people say. I feel as if I had got five thousand miles
from anywhere. What do you suppose keeps your father, Dolly?"

"I don't know, mother."

"You may write and