er sun had even already risen upon her, in the warm
light of which no utter darkness was possible.

It was a day or two before, with her best watching, she could catch an
opportunity to speak to her father. The second morning Mrs. Copley had
headache and staid in bed, and Dolly and Mr. Copley were at breakfast
alone.

"How long, father, do you think you may find affairs to keep you in
England?" Dolly began with her father's first cup of coffee.

"As long as I like, my dear. There is no limit. In England there are
always things going on to keep a man alive, and to keep him busy."

"Isn't that true in America equally?"

"I don't think so. I never found it so. Oh, there is enough to do
there; but you don't find the same facilities, nor the same men to work
with; and you don't know what to do with your money there when you have
got it. England is the place! for a man who wants to live and to enjoy
life."

"It isn't for a woman," said Dolly. "At least, not for one woman.
Father, don't you know mother is longing to go home, to Roxbury?"

"Dolly, she is longing for something or other impossible, every day of
her life."

"But it would do her a great deal of good to be back there."

"It would do me a great deal of harm."

There was a pause here during which Dolly meditated, and Mr. Copley
buttered pieces of toast and swallowed them with ominous despatch.
Dolly saw he would be soon through his breakfast at that rate.

"But, father," she began again, "are we to spend all the rest of our
lives in England?"

"My dear, I don't know anything about the future. I never look ahead.
The day is as much as I can see through. I advise you to follow my
example."

"What are mother and I to do, then? We cannot stay permanently here, in
this house."

"What's the matter with it?"

"Nothing, as a lodging-house; but mother would not thrive or be happy
in a London lodging-house."

"People's happiness is in their own power. It does not depend upon
place. All the clergymen will tell you so. You must talk to your
mother, Dolly."

"Father, I talked to _you_ at Sorrento; but I remember you thought you
could not live there."

"That was Sorrento; but London!--London is the greatest city in the
world. Every taste may be suited in London."

"You know the air does not agree with mother. She will not be well if
we keep her here," said Dolly anxiously; for she saw the last piece of
toast on its way.

"Nonsense! That is fancy."

"If