departing chaise which
carried the functionary who gave judgment so easily on matters of life
and death. The question came back. What would become of her mother and
her, if watching and nursing had to be kept up for weeks?--with all the
rest there was to do. Dolly felt very blue for a little while; then she
shook it off again and took hold of her work. Nelly had returned by
this time, with a knuckle of veal from the butcher's. Dolly put it on,
to make the nicest possible delicate stew for her mother; and even for
her father she thought the broth might, do. She gathered herbs and
vegetables in the garden again, and a messenger came from Mrs. Jersey
with a basket of strawberries; Dolly wrote a note to go back with the
basket, and altogether had a busy morning of it. For bread had also to
be made; and her small helpmate was good for only the simplest details
of scrubbing and sweeping and washing dishes. It was with the greatest
difficulty after all that Dolly coaxed her mother to come down to
dinner; Nelly being left to keep watch the while and call them if
anything was wanted.

"I can't eat, Dolly!" Mrs. Copley said, when she was seated at Dolly's
board.

"Mother, it is necessary. See--this is what you like, and it is very
good, I know. And these potatoes are excellent."

"But, Dolly, he may be sick for weeks, for aught we can tell; it is a
low fever. Oh, this is the worst of all we have had yet!" cried Mrs.
Copley, wringing her hands.

It did look so, and for a moment Dolly could not speak. Her heart
seemed to stand still.

"Mother, we don't know," she said. "We do not know anything. It may be
no such matter; it may _not_ last so; the doctor cannot tell; and
anyhow, mother, God does know and He will take care. We can trust Him,
can't we? and meanwhile what you and I have to do is to keep up our
strength and our faith and our spirits. Eat your dinner like a good
woman. I am going to make a cup of tea for you. Perhaps father would
take some."

"And you," said Mrs. Copley, eyeing her. Dolly had a white kitchen
apron on, it is true, but she was otherwise in perfect order and looked
very lovely. "What about me?" she said.

"Doing kitchen work! You, who are fit for--something so different!"
Mrs. Copley had to get rid of some tears here.

"Doing kitchen work? Yes, certainly, if that is the thing given me to
do. Why not? Isn't my veal good? I'll do anything, mother, that comes
to hand, provided I _can_ do it. Mother,