ark's," she whispered. "I wish it. Yes, I would
rather go in alone. Wait for me a little while in front of St. Mark's."

She stood still yet half a minute, making her observations or getting
up her resolution; then with a light, swift step passed into the shop.
Rupert could not obey her and go at once; he felt he must see what she
did and what her reception promised to be; he came a little nearer to
the window and gazed anxiously in. The minutes he stood there burned
the scene for ever into his memory.

The light shone in a wide, spacious apartment, which it but gloomily
revealed. There was nothing whatever of the outward attractions with
which in New York or London a drinking saloon, not of a low order,
would have been made pleasant and inviting. The wine had need to be
good, thought Rupert, when men would come to such a place as this and
spend time there, simply for the pleasure of drinking it. Yet several
men were there, taking that pleasure, even so late as the hour was; and
they were respectable men, at least if their dress could be taken in
testimony. They sat with mugs and glasses before them; one had a plate
of olives also, another had some other tit-bit or provocative; one
seemed to be in converse with Mr. Copley, who was not beyond converse
yet, though Rupert saw he had been some time drinking. His face was
flushed a little, his eyes dull, his features overspread with that
inane stupidity which comes from long-continued and purely sensual
indulgence of any kind, especially under the fumes of wine. To the side
of this man, Rupert saw Dolly go. She went in, as I said, with a light,
quick step, looked at nobody else, made straight to her father, and
laid a hand upon his shoulder. With that she threw back her
head-covering a little,--it was some sort of a scarf, of white and
brown worsted knitting, which lay around her head like a glory, in
Rupert's eyes,--and showed her face to her father. Fair and delicate
and sweet, bright and grave at once, for she _did_ look bright even
there, she stood at his side like his good angel, with her little hand
upon his shoulder. No wonder Mr. Copley started and looked frightened;
that was the first look; and then confused. Rupert understood it all,
though he could not hear what was said. He saw the man was embarrassed.

"Dolly!" said Mr. Copley, falling back upon his first thought, as the
easiest to speak of,--"what is the matter?"

"Nothing with me, father. Will you take me h