would be a change. I should like to go to
Venice."

"Venice! So should I," said Dolly in a changed tone. "Well, mother,
we'll go down first to this cottage in the country--they say it's
delightful there;--and then, if it does you good, you'll be well
enough, and we will coax father to take us to Italy."

"I don't care about Italy. I only want to be quiet in Venice, where
there are no carts or omnibusses. I don't believe this cottage will do
me one bit of good."

"Mother, I guess it will. At any rate, I suppose we must try."

"I wish your father could have been contented at home, when he was well
off. It's very unlucky he ever brought us here. I don't see what is to
become of you, for my part."

Dolly suppressed a sigh at this point.

"You know what the Bible says, mother. 'All things shall work together
for good, to them that love God.'"

"I don't want to hear that sort of talk, Dolly."

"Why not, mother?"

"It don't mean anything. I would rather have people show their religion
in their lives, than hear them talk about it."

"But, mother, isn't there comfort in those words?"

"No. It ain't true."

"O mother! _What_ isn't true?"

"That. There is a difference between things, and there is no use trying
to make out they're all alike. Sour isn't sweet, and hard ain't soft.
What's the use of talking as if it was? I always like to look at things
just as they are."

"But, mother!"--

"Now, don't talk, Dolly, but just tell me. What is the good of my
getting sick just now? just now, when you ought to be going into
company? And we have got to give up our house, and you and I go and
bury ourselves down in some out-of-the-way place, and your father get
along as he can; and how we shall get along without him to manage, I am
sure I don't know."

"He will run down to see us often, mother."

"The master's eye wants to be all the while on the spot, if anything is
to keep straight."

"But this is such a little spot; I think my eye can manage it."

"Then how are you going to take care of me?--if you are overseeing the
place. And I don't believe my nerves are going to stand it, all alone
down there. It'll be lonely. I'd rather hear the carts rattle. It's
dreadful, to hear nothing."

"Well, we will try how it goes, mother; and if it does not go well, we
will try somewhere else."

The house in town was given up, and Mr. Copley moved into lodgings.
Some furniture and two servants were sent down to the cottage; but