The End of a Coil. Warner Susan
and telescopes; and everybody is still, waiting and watching, until I suppose the horses get near enough for people to begin to judge how the race will turn out; and then begins the fearfullest uproar you ever heard, everybody betting and taking bets. Everybody seemed to be doing it, even ladies. And with the betting comes the shouting, and the cursing, and the cheering on this one and that one; it was a regular Babel. Even the ladies betted."
"Every one does it," said Mr. Copley.
"And the poor horses come running, and driven to run as hard as they can; beautiful horses too, some of them; running to decide all those bets! I don't think it is an amusement for civilised people."
"Why not?" said her father.
"It is barbarous. There is no sense in it. If the white horse beats the black, I'll pay you a thousand pounds; but if the black horse beats the white, you shall pay me two thousand. Is there any sense in that?"
"Some sense in a thousand pound."
"Lost" – said Dolly.
"It is better not to lose, certainly."
"But somebody must lose. And people bet in a heat, before they know what they ought to say; and bet more than they have to spare; I saw it yesterday."
"You didn't bet, Mr. Copley?" said his wife.
"A trifle. My dear, when one is in Rome, one must do as the Romans do."
"Did you lose?"
"I gained, a matter of fifty pounds."
"Who did you gain it from, father?"
"Lawrence St. Leger."
"He has no right to bet with his father's money."
"Perhaps it is his own. I will give you twenty pound of it, Dolly, to do what you like with."
But Dolly would have none of it. If it was to be peace money, it made no peace with her.
CHAPTER X
BRIERLEY COTTAGE
A few months later than this, it happened one day that Mr. Copley was surprised in his office by a visit from young St. Leger. Mr. Copley was sitting at a table in his own private room. It was not what you would call a very comfortable room; rather bare and desolate looking; a carpet and some chairs and desks and a table being the only furniture. The table was heaped up with papers, and desks and floor alike testified to an amount of heterogeneous business. Busy the Consul undoubtedly was, writing and studying; nevertheless, he welcomed his visitor. The young man came in like an inhabitant of another world, as he was; in spotlessly neat attire, leisurely manner, and with his blue eyes sleepily nonchalant at the sight of all the stir of all the world. But they smiled at Mr. Copley.
"You seem to have your bands full," he remarked.
"Rather. Don't I? Awfully! Secretary taken sick – confoundedly inconvenient." Mr. Copley went on writing as he spoke.
"There are plenty of secretaries to be had."
"Yes, but I haven't got hold of 'em yet. What brings you here, Lawrence? Not business, I suppose?"
"Not business with the American Consul."
"No. I made out so much by myself. What is it? I see all's right with you, by your face."
"Thank you. Quite so. But you can't attend to me just now."
"Go ahead," said Mr. Copley, whose pen did not cease to scribble. "I can hear. No time for anything like the present minute. I've got this case by heart, and don't need to think about it. Go on, Lawrence. Has your father sent you to me?"
"No."
"Sit down, and tell me what I can do for you."
Mr. St. Leger sat down, but did not immediately comply with the rest of the invitation. He rested his elbow on the table, looked at Mr. Copley's pen for a few minutes, and said nothing; until Mr. Copley again glanced up at his face.
"I do not know that you can do anything for me," said the young man then; "only you can perhaps answer a question or two. Mr. Copley, would you like to have me for a son-in-law?"
"No," said the Consul shortly; "nor any other man. I'd as lieve have you as anybody, Lawrence."
"Thank you. I couldn't expect more. But you must allow somebody in that capacity, Mr. Copley."
"Must I? Depends on how much Dolly likes somebody."
"That is just what I want to find out about myself," said the young man eagerly. "Then you would not put any hindrance?"
"In the way of Dolly's happiness? Not if I know it. But that's got to be proved."
"You know, Mr. Copley, she would be happy with me."
"How do I know that? I know nothing of the kind. It all depends on Dolly, I tell you. What does she think about it?"
"That's just what I don't know and cannot find out. I have no chance. I cannot get sight of her."
"Her mother's sick, you see. It keeps Dolly at home."
"My mother has proposed several times to take Miss Copley out with her, and she will not go."
"She's very kind, and we are grateful; but Dolly won't leave her mother."
"So she says. Then how am I to see her, Mr. Copley? I can't expect her to like me if I never see her."
"I don't know, my boy. Wait till better times."
"Wait" is a word that lovers never want to hear; and Lawrence sat discontentedly watching the play of Mr. Copley's pen.
"You know it would be all right about the money," he said at length.
"Yes, yes; between your father and her father, I guess we could make it comfortable for you two. But the thing is all the while, what Dolly thinks of you."
"And how am I to find that out?"
"Can't tell, I declare. Unless you volunteer to become my secretary."
"Does your secretary live in your family?"
"Of course he does. One of us completely."
"Will you take me, Mr. Copley?"
"Yes, but you would never take the drudgery. It is not in your line."
"Try me," said the young man. "I'll take it at once. Will you have me, Mr. Copley? But she must not know what you take me for. I don't care for the drudgery. Will you let me come? On trial?"
"Why is the boy in earnest? This is Jacob and Rachel over again!"
"Not for seven years, I hope."
"No, I shall not stay in this old crib as long as that. The question will have to be decided sooner. We haven't so much time to spare as those old patriarchs. But Dolly must have time to make up her mind, if it takes seven years. She is a queer little piece, and usually has a mind of her own. About this affair she certainly will. I'll give Mrs. Copley a hint to keep quiet, and Dolly will never suspect anything."
Lawrence was so thoroughly in earnest that he insisted on going to work at once. And the next day he was introduced at the house and made at home there.
It was quite true that Mrs. Copley was unwell; the doctors were not yet agreed as to the cause. She was feeble and nervous and feverish, and Dolly's time was wholly devoted to her. In these circumstances St. Leger's coming into the family made a very pleasant change. Dolly wondered a little that the rich banker's son should care to do business in the American Consul's office; but she troubled her head little about it. What he did in the office was out of her sphere; at home, in the family, he was a great improvement on the former secretary. Mr. Barr, his predecessor, had been an awkward, angular, taciturn fourth person in the house; a machine of the pen; nothing more. Mr. St. Leger brought quite a new life into the family circle. It is true, he was himself no great talker; but his blue eyes were eloquent. They were beautiful eyes; and they spoke of kindness of heart, gentleness of disposition, and undoubted liking for his present companions. There was refinement too, and the habit of the world, and the power of comprehending at least what others spoke; and gentle as he was, there was also now and