bottle of wine. Dolly's heart gave a sudden leap that
meant a throe of pain. Was there another fight to be fought? How should
she fight another fight? But the emergency pressed her.

"O father," she cried, "is that sherry?"

"No, it is better," said her father--pouring out a glass,--"it is
Madeira."

Dolly saw the hand tremble that grasped the bottle, and she sprang up.
She went round to her father, fell down on her knees before him, and
laid one hand on the hand that had just seized the glass, the other on
his shoulder.

"Please, father, don't take it! please don't take it!" she said in
imploring tones. Mr. Copley paused.

"Not take it? Why not?" said he.

"It is not good for you. I know you ought not to take it, father.
Please, please, don't!"

Dolly's eagerness and distress were too visible to be disregarded, by
Mr. Copley at least. Her hand was trembling too. His still held the
glass, but he looked uncertainly at Dolly, and asked her why it should
not be good for him? Every gentleman in the land drank wine--that could
afford it.

"But, father," said Dolly, "can you afford it?"

"Yes," said Mr. Copley. "Get up, Dolly. Here is the wine; it costs no
more to drink it than to let it alone." And he swallowed the wine in
the glass at a single draught.

"O father, don't take any more!" cried Dolly, seeing a preparatory
movement of the hand towards the bottle. "O father! don't, don't! One
glass is enough. Don't take any more to-day!"

"You talk like a goose, Dolly," said Mr. Copley, filling his glass. "I
feel better already for that. It has done me good."

"You only think so. It is not doing you good. O father! if you love me,
put the bottle away. Don't take a drop more!"

Dolly had turned pale in her agony of pleading; and her father,
conscious in part, and ashamed with that secret consciousness, and
taken by surprise at her action, looked at her and--did not drink.

"What's the matter with you, child?" he said, trying for an unconcerned
manner. "Why should not I take wine, like everybody else in the world?"

"Father, it isn't good for people."

"I beg your pardon; it is very good for me. Indeed, I cannot be well
without it."

"That's the very thing, father; people cannot do without it; and then
it comes to be the master; and then--they cannot help themselves. Oh,
do let it alone!"

"What's the matter, Dolly?" Mr. Copley repeated with an air of injury,
which was at the same time miserably marred by e