nor her spirits perceived to flag. She
was like the flowers with which she filled the house and dressed the
table; sweet and fresh and cheery and lovely. And so ministering, and
so ministered to, I cannot say that the life of the mother and daughter
was other than a happy one. If Mrs. Copley was sensible of a grievous
want here and there, which made her nervous and irritable whenever she
thought of it, the tenderness of Dolly's soothing and the contagion of
Dolly's peace were irresistible; and if Dolly had a gnawing subject of
care, which hurt and pricked and stung her perpetually, a cloud of fear
darkening over her, from the shadow of which she could not get free;
yet the loving care to ward off both the pain and the fear from her
mother, helped at least to keep her own heart fresh and strong to bear
whatever was coming.

So in their little room, at their table, or about the flowers in the
garden, or sitting in the honeysuckle porch reading, the mother and
daughter were always together, and the days of late summer and then of
autumn went by sweetly enough. And when the last roses were gone and
the honeysuckle vines had ceased to send forth their breath of
fragrance, and leaves turned sear, and the winds blew harsh from the
sea, Dolly and Mrs. Copley made themselves all the snugger in the
cottage; and knitting and reading was carried on in the glow of a good
fire that filled all their little room with brightness. They were ready
for winter; and winter when it came did not chill them; the household
life was warm and busy. All this while they had the stir of frequent
visits from Mr. Copley, and between whiles the expectation of them.
They were never long; he came and went, Mrs. Copley said, like a gust
of wind, with a rush and a whistle and a roar, and then was gone,
leaving you to feel how still it was. However, these gusts of wind
brought a great deal of refreshment. Mr. Copley always came with his
hands full of papers; always had the last London or Edinburgh
Quarterly, and generally some other book or books for his wife and
daughter to delight themselves withal. And though Dolly was not always
satisfied with her father's appearance, yet on the whole he gave her no
new or increased occasion for anxiety.

So the autumn and winter went not ill away. The cottage had no
visitors. It was at some distance from the village, and in the village
there was hardly anybody that would have held himself entitled to visit
there. The